by G. Bailey
—
Ura
“There is a spider in my room, and I’m not touching it or unpacking until it’s gone,” I state, standing at the bottom of the stairs and glaring at my father who chuckles as he runs a hand through his brown-going-grey hair. Dad turns his light blue eyes on me, the amusement clearly shining through them. I glance around at the piles of boxes we are trying to move into the old house and notice that the counters in the kitchen have cobwebs on them. There are going to be more spiders.
“What? The girl with pink hair and a nose piercing can’t handle a spider? I thought you were going through a whole rebellious, badass chick stage,” he replies, being a smartass like usual. Don’t parents grow out of that at some point when they get old?
“I like pink, not hairy spiders in an old house. Please just get rid of it, dad,” I groan, and he laughs, messing my hair up with his giant hands as he passes me to go upstairs. I walk over to the mirror, smoothing down my dark pink hair, which doesn’t match my blue eyes and freckle-filled face. I had to tell dad I dyed it pink when he was in hospital because it naturally started growing out this color after the accident. The pink is darker at the top and lighter at the bottom as the sun has faded it. I also try to ignore the blue pattern on my head, which used to freak me out, but now it’s just a reminder that I might be a little crazy since the crash a year ago. It looks like a mixture of swirls made up of blue light, and it is exactly where I remember my head being cut in the accident. Only, no one can see the weird mark but me since I woke up from the accident. I lift my tank top to see the other mark, the rose shaped one on my hip, and run a hand over it as memories flash in my mind.
I still vividly remember when I started asking about the glowing blue marks after the car crash…and well, the memories make me cringe. I came out of the accident with nothing but bruises, memories of being hurt far worse, and a glowing blue light that was warm and comforting. Neither my dad nor anyone else has believed me about it yet. They assumed I must have hit my head harder in the crash than they thought. It was months of tests while I waited for my father to get out of the hospital after he was flung from the car and somehow survived. The moment he got out of the hospital, he announced he had found this new job and that we were moving to a new house. An old, creaking house full of spiders in the middle of nowhere. Gross.
“At least there won’t be a psychologist in this town for dad to send me to,” I mutter to myself, knowing that’s one benefit of the tiny ass town we have moved into. I walk to the front door, pull it open, and walk down the steps to look up at the new house. Someone once painted the bricks white, but they have faded and chipped over time, making the house seem creepier as it sits in the middle of lots of tall trees. The windows are made of wood, also chipped in places, and the roof doesn’t look in the best condition. This is a massive step down from our flat in London. It was in an old building, but the building was well looked after, not like this place. I shake my head and go to sit on the steps just outside my door.
I stare out over the tiny road to the house on the other side of the street, which only contains these two. It is the mirror image of ours, with perfect white painted bricks, white plastic bay windows and steps leading up to the blue front door. There are two cars parked in front of the detached garage, both of them sport cars, and the sun shines off the red and blue paintwork. They must have cost a fortune. I keep searching around the only other house on the street, wondering why anyone would choose to live right outside a ghost town. I know the only reason my father chose this house is because of its cheap price; we can’t afford much after we lost the flat in London when my dad was ill in hospital. My dad would have chosen one of the expensive houses in the town if he could have. So why would people who can afford cars like that, live out here? My eyes flicker over the left window, just as the curtain moves a little to make a gap, and I see that someone is watching me. I lift my hand and wave, and the person lets the curtain go, walking away. Well, seems they aren’t friendly then.
“The spider is all gone,” my father says, his footsteps couldn’t be missed as he walked across the creaking floor in the hallway to the front door and opened it. The creaking was so loud, I could hear him before he opened the door. “It is now free in the garden.”
“No going in the garden for me then. The spider can claim that space as his own, and hopefully all his friends inside the house go to play with him,” I say, and my dad chuckles before he walks away. I stand up, stretching a little before going inside and closing the white door behind me.
“I’m going to go into town to get some shopping and a pizza for dinner. Do you want to come?” Dad asks, sliding his wallet into his jeans and picking up his keys off the side.
“I’m good, dad. I have to unpack and log into the school’s website to get my curriculum up for tomorrow,” I tell him. I left everything to the last minute, which is a bad habit of mine.
“Alright. Anything you want from the shops?” he asks. “And you don’t need to ask for popcorn.” I grin up at him, thankful that he remembers my favorite snack. I’m happy to see my dad back to normal, not sitting in hospital and struggling to get better. This dad is like how it was before the crash.
“Toffee or sweet, please,” I suggest, and he pats my shoulder before walking out of the door. I run up the stairs, not enjoying the massive creaking noise the dark wood boards make as I go. I pass by my dad’s room, the shared bathroom and go to my room right at the end of the hallway past a cupboard. I walk into my room, pausing to look around at the magnolia walls, dark wood floors and the big window. I love this room because the window has a window seat, which will be perfect to sit and draw in. I slide my cardigan off my shoulders and chuck it on my single bed that I need to do the sheets for. I walk to the boxes and start pulling them open, looking for only a few things. I pull out my sketch pad and a pencil from my pencil case, then walk to the window as I flip through the sketch pad for a new page. I sit down, not enjoying how cold the wood feels. I need to get some cushions or something for this seat. I might even have some packed away in the boxes.
My hands start drawing before I even really think on it, and when I finally notice what I’m drawing, I stop, staring down at the eyes of a man I’ve never met, the man who haunts my dreams since the crash. I close the pad and put the pencil down, wrapping my arms around my knees as I watch out the window. I frown when I see a flash of blinding, bright green light from outside, and then after a few moments, someone knocks three times on the door as the light disappears. What the hell was that?
Link to Amazon here
Blurb-
With sharing the true light, there is always a cost.
My new neighbor is an arrogant jerk.
Oh, he's also an alien who claims we share a soul, and he wants me as far away from him as possible...
Ura didn’t want to move, but her father didn’t give her a choice when he said he wanted an escape after the car accident that nearly killed them both. Trying to survive in a literal ghost town is never fun, but add in the neighbor from hell, well it’s becoming a nightmare.
When two new strangers move into Maxx’s house, Ura finds out there is more than the true light to be frightened of.
When light appears, so does darkness…
Please keep reading for an excerpt from Run Little Wolf-
“Really? A party in the woods? That’s where you want to spend your eighteenth birthday?” Colton asks me, just as the school bell rings, signalling the end of class and the last day of school for us. It’s finally over, and to celebrate, everyone is going to this party in the woods tonight. Well, everyone except Colton, that is, and he hasn’t stopped asking me why I want to go, since I told him this morning of my plans. I chuck my books in my bag, looking around at all my classmates as they run out the door, all of them so happy to leave.
“Yes, why won't you come?” I ask, pulling my coat on and picking up my bag. He grins at me–a cheeky grin that matches his personality. Colton is
every bit the typical hot guy in looks, with short blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and golden skin. In fact, when he spoke to me for the first time, last year, I choked on my drink and blurted out a load of words that made no sense. While I was utterly mortified with myself, he still wanted to be my friend. He’s a strange guy, but we quickly became best friends.
“I just can’t, not at night,” he mutters, pushing a hand through his hair. It’s a nervous tick of his.
“You know, I never see you out at night. Are your parents really that strict?” I ask. He always leaves my house before the sun sets, and he never wants to go out after school in the winter because it gets dark so quickly. I met his parents once, and they didn’t like me; at least, I don't think they did, considering they never replied to me when I said hello, and only asked Colton what he was doing by bringing me home with him.
“Something like that.” He smiles, but it almost seems a little sad. “Let’s go and get some lunch. I have a gift for you,” Colton says, and holds his hand out for me. I take it as we leave the classroom.
“Why do you always hold my hand, Colt?” I ask him, and he smiles down at me as we stroll through the nearly empty corridors.
“I want to, it's that simple,” he says, and shrugs his shoulders.
“You should hold hands with a girlfriend, not me. This is why you don’t have one.” I lift our joined hands, and he laughs.
“I don’t have one because I don’t want one, Harper.” He nudges my shoulder. “Plus, every girl here is too scared of you to try and hit on me.”
“What eighteen-year-old guy doesn’t want a girlfriend? And I’m not that bad,” I laugh.
“This one. And yes, you are. You glare at them when they speak to me,” he says. To be fair, I don’t exactly glare. It’s just, the Barbie dolls that try to hit on Colton aren’t good enough for him. Colton needs a sweet girlfriend, someone kind and not made of mostly plastic. I roll my eyes and stop as Skye runs up to us in the car park. Skye is my only other friend in this school, in this village. Growing up in foster care isn’t easy; bouncing from house to house isn’t any better. When I moved here last year, no one would talk to me until I met Skye. And then I met Colton.
“Harper, are you still coming tonight?” she asks, stopping in front of me, not even looking at me as she talks. No, her eyes are on Colton. Not that he even looks her way; he never has. Skye has tried to get me to set her up with him on several different occasions, but I don’t know how many times I’ve told her that he isn’t interested. I do get her interest, even I have to admit Colton is extremely good-looking compared to the guys at this school. Or any school I’ve ever been to, for that matter.
“Yeah, I will meet you there at eight.” I smile at her, even though I’m getting annoyed at how she acts around Colton. I roll my eyes as she twirls her blonde hair around her finger and steps closer to him.
“Are you coming, Colt? I know I would love to see you there,” she says, her words laced with suggestion. She may as well strip down naked and lay herself out for him at this rate.
“No, it’s Harper’s birthday and I have plans for her. See you around, Skye,” he says, tugging on my hand as she frowns. I give her a small smile as I walk past her with Colt and get into his SUV. Colt has a Land Rover, a red one he fixes himself. The vehicle runs like a dream, and the inside has dark-blue leather seats he custom fitted in here. They’re even heated.
“Urgh, I wish I had your car,” I say, as I snuggle down in the seat and clip my seat belt on.
“I would give you anything, Harper, but not my car.” He winks at me, and I laugh. Colt makes sure his seatbelt is latched before turning on the car to drive us the ten minutes out of town. I smile and lean back in my seat when I see where he is driving us to.
“The water tower?” I ask him.
“Where else? We always go there when we want to be alone,” Colt says, and I turn the heat on for the seats.
“Alright, anything is better than going back home,” I comment.
“What did she say?” Colt asks, picking up straight away that my foster parent has done something.
“The usual; she wants me to move out, but it’s still difficult to hear on your eighteenth birthday, you know?” I try not to think of my foster mum and how she needs me to move out, as she doesn’t get paid to look after me anymore. Every foster home I’ve been in has been about the money, and they want a child that they basically don’t have to deal with. There isn't one I can remember being loving. I’ve been in foster care for as long as I remember, since I lost both my parents, but I was too young to remember their deaths. I don’t even have photos, or anything from them, as it was all sold or lost over the years. I wonder if I look like them as I see my reflection in the window; my big green eyes, my long brown hair, and my golden skin. I wonder what parts of my face look like my mum or dad?
“You could come and live with me,” Colt tells me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sure your parents would love that. They don’t like me, remember?” I chuckle.
“They don’t get you, it’s not that they don’t like you. I can’t explain it, but trust me, they wouldn’t say no. I won’t see you out on the streets, Harper,” he says, resting his hand on my knee for a second and squeezing it.
“I know you wouldn’t.” I smile at him as he returns his hand to the wheel. Colton pulls onto the old road, where the water tower sits at the end. The tall fixture hasn’t been used in years; it was just left here, and looks like it’s close to falling apart. Colton parks, and I get out, following him up the pathway that is made of crumbling stone and weeds. He doesn’t have to worry about the car being stolen around here, as no one comes this far out, so he doesn’t lock it. I climb up the old ladder that has bars around it to stop people falling, and pull myself onto the circular walkway near the top. I wait for Colton to climb up before we go and sit on the edge. I hook my arms through the bars as my legs dangle off the side. I used to be scared of the height, but eventually, when I started to look around at the town, and the lights, that fear dissipated. It's better not to let the fear of falling stop you from seeing the beauty of where you are.
“I like it when you watch the town; your whole face lights up,” Colton tells me. I turn my head to look at him as he takes a piece of my brown hair in his fingers, twirling it gently before letting it fall.
“Colt,” I whisper as he moves closer and pulls a box out of his pocket.
“It’s your birthday gift. Well, the first one, and the second one, I’ll have to give you tomorrow, as it’s not done.” I’m finding it hard to look away from him as he moves that bit closer to me.
“Oh. You didn’t have to get me anything, but I’m not going to say no.” I chuckle a little and accept the box. My eyes widen when I open it and see a bracelet inside. There are three silver crystals, shaped like roses, sitting in the middle of a silver bracelet.
“This is amazing, thank you so much,” I tell him as he takes the bracelet out the box for me. I offer him my wrist, and he ties the bracelet, then smiles at me.
“It’s meant for you,” he says, moving to brush a piece of my hair behind my ear. His face is so close to mine. When his finger trails down my cheek, to my neck as we stare at each other, my breath hitches. Colt has never touched me like this before.
“What are we doing, Colt?” I ask him. He starts to answer when his phone rings. The phone ringing ruins the moment between us, and I move back. Colt swears under his breath as he gets his phone out of his pocket.
“Hello?” he answers as I lean back, and annoyance crosses his face.
“Yeah alright . . . alright . . . bye,” he tells whoever is on the other end, and then ends the call.
“I have to go, but I’ll drive you home first. Can we meet up tomorrow? There’s something I really need to tell you,” Colt says.
“Should I worry?” I laugh, and he shakes his head with a sad look. He goes to say something, but his phone rings again. He takes a deep breath
as he stands, pulling me up with him.
“Not at all,” he smiles. Yet, I can’t seem to make myself believe him.
Link to Run Little Wolf…