Pure

By Frank Clarke

A single mother and her daughter move to a new city and encounter neighbors that are not your typical kind. What is it about the neighbors that are not quite right? What is it about the forest that intrigues them? This is a suspenseful story of a not so ordinary life of a teenager and the adventures and obstacles she runs into. This book is one you don't want to put down. It keeps you in suspense waiting to read what happens next.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452063058

Frank Clarke

Frank Clarke is a retired IBM programmer and a long-term member of Mensa. He enjoys watching the ebb and flow of politics, always with an eye toward the future, which he thinks may not be as pretty as some would have you believe. 'Tipping Point' is his first published work and serves as a 'cautionary tale' for any who think the next civil war will be somehow more 'civil' than the last.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I’d never been this desolate and alone before. The cool air whipped at my hair and I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. The exhilaration was overwhelming as I sucked in breath after breath of air. I was losing oxygen fast, and could barely think as I trampled frantically through the forest, the loud thud of my sneakers ringing in my ears.

But, I couldn’t stop running. Not now. Not when he was so close. Not when he was right behind me, about to catch up, about to reach me….

Keep running, I prodded myself.

I had this. I had to win. I had to fight the urge hidden in the back of my brain. The urge to give up. To let him catch up, rip me to shreds if he had to.

After all, say he caught me, what then? Would my life be over? Or would I by chance live, with only the pain as a memory of this day?

My foot caught a vine, and I was suddenly flailing through the air, falling down to the ground. I could hear the thud of my body banging against the ground. Then he was there, crouching over me, his black shadow prohibiting me from seeing him….

And then I woke up, screaming.

I’d had this dream five nights in a row now. Each time, I fell. And each time he crouched over me, but I never saw his face. I’m still not sure who he is, who’s chasing me in the dream. But, lately, I’ve been terrified.

Apparently my self conscience is scared of him chasing me. But, I don’t have any enemies. Besides, today was moving day. My mom and I were moving to San Francisco. Maybe the dream was a sign not to go, but it didn’t stop me.

I was already packed. I eyed the leather suitcase in the corner of my room. We were leaving early, ten in the morning. The clock on my nightstand said it was only seven. We were leaving for the airport soon.

I sighed, rolling over on my stomach to go back to sleep. But, I was too terrified to. What if the dream came again?

I moved back over, knocking something off my bed. My shoe. It hit the hard ground, making a loud noise.

Abby? my mom called. You awake?

Yes.

She opened my door, a waft of light peeking in. My mom smiled. She’s got short brown hair and bright green eyes. I look a lot like here. But, my hair is blond. I have green eyes though.

You’re all packed, right?

Yes. I said. And I said goodbye to all my friends yesterday at school.

Okay. I’m going to go make breakfast. Pancakes okay?

Yeah, that sounds good.

She smiled and slipped out the door, lightly closing it. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. I was laying on a single blanket with one lonely pillow. Everything else was shipped to San Francisco, waiting for us. All I had was one suitcase containing a few shirts and jeans, just in case the flight got delayed and we had to stay in a hotel, and my carry on bag. It contained my cell phone, some snacks, and a pack of cards.

I stood up, stretching my arms and legs. I slumped across the carpet to my dresser, pulling out a red sweatshirt and jeans. I pulled the sweatshirt on over my tank top and pulled the jeans on. It was going to be a long day. I debated over wearing my hair up or down. But it was so clumped with knots and so frizzy that I just finally had to twist a rubber band around it.

I toted my suitcase, carry on bag, and pillow out my bedroom door. I banged down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling to be sprawled across the ground. But, I caught myself, luckily. I set my bags down next to the front door, so when we left, I’d be ready. Then I headed to the kitchen.

My mom was at the counter, making pancakes. She smiled at me. I grabbed one of the styrofoam cups we had, since all our other cups were packed, and poured some water into it. All our sodas and pitchers were packed too.

I sat on the ground of the bare house, looking around. It’s going to be weird, living somewhere else. I said.

Yep.

Three hours later we were sitting on an airplane, my heart beating so fast in my chest that it felt like I was running as hard as I could, instead of just sitting down in the airplane seat next to my mother.

I had the window seat, and I leaned toward the window, watching in wonder as we rose off the ground. San Francisco is a big city, isn’t it? I asked.

She grinned. Extremely big.

My heart began to rise up and down too fast for me to control, and my head throbbed with a pain too forceful for it to be a simple headache.

I looked down, across the town below.

My head spun.

This was all too much, and I wondered why on Earth I’d ever wanted to move. My mom saw the look of pain on my face, and patted the back of my hand.

I asked the plane waiter for a cup of water.

I leaned my face against the cool pane of the window and sighed. I knew it was a long flight. And before I could even start a conversation with my mom, or stare endlessly out the window, I was asleep.

Chapter 2

The dream was different this time. This time when I fell in the forest, I saw his hair. Not his face, but the wispy, mahogany hair that flashed in front of me.

I still woke up screaming, and my mom had to shush me. It took me a second to realize we were still on an airplane.

Are you alright, Abby? Mom asked quietly.

I nodded, and leaned back against my seat.

Are you still having those nightmares?

I nodded again.

Well, we’re almost there, about ten minutes.

‘Kay.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and took a pack of crackers out of my carry on bag. I took a small bite from one of the round, salted crackers.

Our house is one of those townhouses, the ones with a neat yard, and friendly neighbors. Mom said.

Oh.

We’ll be living across the street from the park, too.

Oh.

She sighed. You feel okay, Abby?

A little lightheaded. I admitted.

She smiled soothingly, rubbing my back with her hand. I ate another cracker.

An announcement came on: We will be landing in five minutes. Five minutes.

I peered curiously out the window, at the city below. It was huge. Buildings, houses, cars. Everywhere.

And for the next five minutes, I continued staring out the window, until the plane began to tilt downward, and then it was gliding across the ground.

It stopped.

We had landed.

We stretched, stood up, and walked off the plane behind a line of other passengers.

We were here. San Francisco. My new home.

Within a matter of seconds, Mom had hailed a taxi from the airport, and we were suddenly driving down the street to our new house. I was eager to see it, even if I didn’t feel too good.

The house was white and tall; two stories. The front yard was a small strip of green. The window shutters were light blue. I liked it.

You like it, Abby? Mom asked, unable to hide her smile.

I grinned. Yep.

The inside was even better. A big kitchen with green counters, the biggest living room ever, and five bedrooms upstairs. There was even a basement.

There’s so much extra room. I noted.

I know. she said. I was thinking, me and you each get a room with a bathroom, and the other three bedrooms become random rooms. I know I want one to be a guest room.

How about having a game room?

Great. But, I’m not sure what to do about the basement.

A hang out room. I suggested, laughing lightly.

She smiled and walked to the corner of the living room, where all our luggage sat, devouring a large amount of space.

Someone had delivered it for us.

I grabbed my two suitcases and ran upstairs. I’m gonna pick out a room. I yelled, laughing with joy. I was hoping to get the biggest one. Two rooms came with private bathrooms, and that made me happy.

I picked out a room in the front of the house, overlooking the park Mom had mentioned. There were two large framed windows with huge white curtains covering them. It was a beautiful room.

I set my bags down and walked into the bathroom. Normal looking bathroom.

Mom! I yelled, running back into my new bedroom.

I heard her pounding footsteps on the stairs before I had even opened one of the white curtains.

What? she said.

She eyed the spectacular room in astonishment. This is nice. she said.

I know.

I opened one of my suitcases, which contained all clothes. My bed and dresser were still downstairs.

Will you help me carry my bed frame up here? I asked.

Sure, hon.

Chapter 3

Monday morning I walked into the school with not an ounce of confidence. I’m kind of a quiet, nervous type when it comes to making friends.

I walked into first period history and stood there awkwardly. I spotted a tall teacher with bushy brown hair and glasses. I walked over to him.

Oh- he said, smiling. Are you Abby Finch?

Yes sir.

Well, welcome to Greenwood High School, Mrs. Finch. I’m Mr. Miller. Please take a seat right over there.

I sat in the seat he directed to. It was in the corner, next to a skinny guy with brown hair.

I sat down.

Hey. someone hissed. It was the the skinny, brown haired guy. I peered at him.

I’m Joel. he said, smiling.

Hey. Abby.

You new here?

Until recently. I grumbled.

He chuckled. I take it you hate it here.

"No, I hate being here." I corrected.

Joel smiled. I was glad I was amusing him. I’m surprised he was talking to me though. Maybe this school wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’re funny. Where you from? he asked.

Michigan.

Huh. A long way from here.

You’re telling me. I said, sighing.

Yeah, so-

Joel! Mr. Miller snapped. No talking! But, since you seem to want to speak, why don’t you explain to the class what I just taught?

Um, okay. Joel mumbled.

Silence.

We’re waiting, Mr. Michaels.

Well, Joel said, for this lesson, you must know about history. You just have to think about it. Actually, it’s just so simple…

Joel! Since you seem to think this class is a joke, why don’t you take this mark.

Joel sighed, taking the mark slip from Mr. Miller. Then, he glanced at me and smiled. I really suck at history. he said, tossing the mark slip on the brown classroom carpet below.

By lunch I hadn’t made any friends. The only person I’d talked to had been Joel. So, I sat by him at lunch.

He didn’t seem to mind.

You again? he said, an amused smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

Yes, unfortunately- I began, but I stopped talking suddenly to stare at the guy across the cafeteria. The guy with the wispy, mahogany hair. Just like the guy from my dream…the one who chased me….

"Who is that?" I asked, pointing.

Joel looked. Oh, him? That’s Craig Andrews.

Oh.

Craig was tall, muscled, with that beautiful mahogany hair. He had on a brown leather jacket and jeans. I couldn’t help but stare.

Why? Joel asked. Is he ‘hot’?

No, no, I was just wondering.

But, Craig was pretty good looking.

A pale girl with light blond hair and dark eyes sat across from Joel. Next to her a broad boy with a hard, tough expression also sat down.

Hey. Joel said.

The girl eyed me warily. Who’s she?

Abby. She’s new. Abby, this is Meredith and Tom.

Hello. Meredith said, smiling.

She didn’t look too happy to see me though. The heavy guy, Tom, glared at me, and in a gruff voice, said, Hey.

Uh, hey.

It was quiet, with only Joel’s random babbling filling the silence. He talked about his weekend, using enthusiastic expressions and intense energy.

I tried to listen, but seeing Craig Andrews, I had to wonder; would he be chasing me soon? Would he try to kill me? Was he the guy in my dream? Other guys have mahogany hair, but….

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Is there a forest in this town? I asked suddenly, aware of an awkward silence. I was also aware of the glance Meredith shot Tom.

A forest? Joel said. Sure.

Where?

Near the park, a little ways east. Why?

Just wondering. I said, averting my eyes back to my lunch.

We also have parks, zoos, beaches, and museums, too. Meredith joked. Where are you from anyway?

Michigan.

What, they don’t have forests there?

My cheeks blazed red.

I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t explain to these people I just met about my dreams. About the mysterious mahogany haired fellow chasing me. It was a weird feeling. A frightening feeling that made my spine tingle. The scariest moments of my life are in that dream.

Leave her alone, Meredith. Joel said, glaring at her.

She rolled her eyes. I was joking. Joking, Joel. Then she looked back at me and said, So, let me guess; you love nature?

I guess.

I was still staring at Craig. He was sitting alone. Eating. No one seemed to want to sit with him.

What are you looking at? Meredith said. She spun around to see. "Who are you looking at?"

That Craig guy- why does he eat alone?

Joel leaned toward me, keeping his voice low as he said, No one’s for sure, actually. Craig is kind of scary, Abby. I wouldn’t waste time on him.

Meredith sighed. Exactly. Trust me, I’ve tried more than once to get his attention.

I nodded, examined Craig.

The only thing I’ve ever heard him say was, ‘Leave me alone.’ That was last year, when I tried to talk to him. Joel said.

He’s mean? I asked.

And odd. Tom said. Immensely odd.

But, Joel said. there is one person who Craig actually talks too and eats lunch with….

Who? I asked.

Blue Carson. they all three said at the same time.

And all in one second, I turned around, saw a buff looking guy with short blue hair who was wearing khaki shorts and a muscled black shirt, and saw the blue haired guy sit down by Craig.

Hes got blue hair. I said.

Joel chuckled. Hence the name Blue. His real name is Joe, but everyone calls him Blue.

He’s Craig’s only friend?

Meredith said, Sadly. But, Blue actually talks, unlike Craig. He’s meaner than Craig, though I wouldn’t mess with either of them.

Huh. I mumbled.

I stared at Craig and Blue until the lunch bell rang. Then I headed to sixth period art.

Blue was in that class.

I shuddered when I saw him. I shuddered the whole time. Even as the teacher explained about when and where to shade in a picture, I shuddered.

Blue seemed to glare at me the whole time.

When the teacher told us to pick a partner for an art project, I panicked. No one would want to be the new kid’s partner. Everyone seemed to already have a partner. Except me.

I walked up to Mrs. Tyler.

I don’t have a partner. I said quietly.

She only grinned. "Well, actually, you