Authors: Jesse Kimmel-Freeman
Bella
Notte
A
Novel by Jesse Kimmel-Freeman
Bella Notte
Jesse Kimmel-Freeman
Copyright © 2011 Jesse
Kimmel-Freeman
This ebook is licensed for your
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Please do not reproduce any part
of this work without expressed permission from the author. For more
information, send an email to
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.
All
characters, places, and events in this novel are fictitious and
though may share similarities to any real person, place or event, all
similarities are purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Visit the author's website at
http://bellanottethebook.weebly.com
.
The sky was
growing dark crimson over the clearing in the forest behind our house
as I drifted across the glen toward the edge of the trees. I walked
as if I knew exactly what it was I was looking for, and where I was
going to find it as well.
A small crackling
noise caused me to stop halfway across the field. I turned to look in
the direction the sound came from- that's when I saw him.
Those dark green
eyes and his dark auburn spikes were so familiar after seeing them
for the past fourteen years, that it was always a relief to see him.
He walked towards
me, and stopped at my side. The dry winter grass beneath our feet was
barely audible as we took a step forward, lacing our fingers
together.
The sky was no
longer crimson, but had transformed into a deep indigo and a slight
breeze had picked up. The hairs on my arms rose as the chill in the
air assaulted my body. I moved closer to him out of instinct. His
body temperature seemed to be so much higher than mine that just
being near him kept me warm, strangely from the inside out. The moon
had risen. The color was a frightening shade of blood red and the
wind strewn clouds blew across the face of the cratered orb. He held
suddenly, very still, as the breeze brought scents from across the
clearing. With his eyes closed, he breathed in deeply. Those dark
emeralds popped back into view and carried the fear that the grimace
on his face displayed.
That's when we
heard it- the howl. The sound was terrifying, like a large wolf.
Somehow, inside, I knew it wasn't a wolf, at least not in the
conventional sense, and that scared me more than anything. My body
froze and my mind blanked with fear. I watched his grimace change to
a visible snarl and those beautiful green eyes flash a dangerous
shade of ruby. The next thing I knew he was pushing me out of the
field and into the cover of the trees.
I wanted to plead
to him, but no words would form with my dry tongue sticking to every
ridge in my mouth. He grabbed hold of me and whispered “run”
very softly into my ear- then he was gone. It took me a minute to get
over the shock, but then my feet moved as quickly as possible.
I could not
escape the sound of his scream as the forest closed its arms around
me.
I knew it was a
dream, not any dream but
the
dream
.
The dream I've had since I was a little girl. Every scene was
memorized from beginning to end, and I again knew the sting of the
silent tears that cascaded down my hot, flushed cheeks.
I knew that I should
probably get up, seeing as the alarm had been merrily buzzing for the
last half hour. Everything seemed too bright though and my eyelids
were weighed down by the dream … and those damn tears.
Why do I always
cry? And who is that guy?
I
thought about the questions that'd plagued me since three this
morning.
The dream normally
didn't bother me that bad, but something was different last night- it
felt more real. Three and a half hours after the episode, I was still
awake and now, out of time too.
Today was the first
day of senior year and I was going to be late because of some freaky
dream that I've had since I was at least three.
Wonderful, better
get outta bed, Em
.
I've always loved
how my brain talks to me on a first name basis, a clear sign of
insanity.
I reached out a ruby
polished finger to hit the off button on the alarm. The silence was
eerie and reminded me too much of the dream. I pushed the emerald
comforter off of me and rolled out of bed. My black cotton pajamas
were plastered to my damp skin.
God,
I look like crap!
What the mirror
showed was just a minimal reflection of the way I felt after last
night.
The hot shower felt
good against my stiff muscles and the questions that clung to my mind
were washed away. Having a blank mind was a nice change from the
flood of words that had bounced against my brain all night long.
After I dried off, I
grabbed my clothes and put them on.
I
wonder if wearing all black on the first day will put a jinx on the
entire year?
My black pleated
skirt, black button up, and black combat boots looked fine to me, but
to be on the safe side, I changed my shirt for my favorite burgundy
tee that said, “Beware, I bite without warning.”
As I read the words
over again, a wicked little smile played at the edge of my lips.
If
only I had this shirt when I was younger. All those upset parents
wouldn't have been able to say anything to my parents, they would've
been warned
.
My laughter was the
first sound to break the morning silence. If anyone had been around
it probably would've frightened them, but Mom and Dad were in England
completing a business deal- nothing new there. Grandmama and Grandpa
were playing tennis from six until eight in the morning, which they
decided was fine since I was seventeen and they no longer had to make
sure I got up for school. It was always amusing having them around
more when my parents were off working.
We all lived
together in our two-story plantation home. However, my parents were
only around for the “important” days and left me in the
care of my grandparents. It used to bug me that I was so easily left
behind, but now I only get upset because they get to go to all these
exotic places while I'm stuck here in this small town that I was born
in. I guess you could say that I'm a little jealous.
Our house was
beautiful, but far too big for this little town. As I walked down the
stairs from the second floor, I realized that even the inside was too
lavish and rich for here. We were too rich for here; it made us seem
out of place, and odd. Even though we had the money, bought most of
my clothes from the local stores- Mom and Grandmama ordered their
things from Paris and the like. Sometimes, I felt like it was a
little distasteful the way my family allowed themselves to throw
their good fortune around.
I grabbed an apple
off of the counter and checked my wallet for lunch money.
Just
enough funds to make sure I don't look like a snob, good
.
I never liked to
flaunt the fact that I was born into wealth and most of the people in
town lived on a tenth of what the interest was from my own savings
account. I looked at the clock before stepping out of the side door
from the kitchen to the garage. It was seven-thirty.
Better
take the highway so I'm not late
.
My 1994 wrangler was
already pulled out of the garage and was facing the road.
Thanks
Grandpa
.
He always seemed to
know when I'd be behind schedule enough to be in a hurry ... and
likely to take out part of the garage in my haste to get my black
chrome rear end out.
I wasn't one to buy
a new shiny car, but my used one was definitely in a better state
than when I purchased it. The paint was new, and so was the green
flame detail on the sides. I replaced everything I could for chrome,
and added all terrain, all weather tires. I absolutely spoiled myself
on my 'baby' ... and I loved it.
The drive was
especially pleasant this morning. The trees filtered the bright
morning shine into soft shapes against my windshield. It was a nice
temperature and the cool air flowing in my window added to the
calming atmosphere. The trees were a beautiful honey color and the
breeze caused the leaves to look like they were doing an intricate
dance. It was absolutely stunning. All the fear and dread that I
still carried with me from last night vanished by the time I turned
out of our huge gate and onto to the highway. It would only take
another fifteen
minutes to get into
town, being that I never went less than seventy on the highway and we
only lived about seventeen miles away by highway.
I got into town in
ten minutes instead of fifteen- I admit I have a lead foot when I'm
in a hurry. I never really mind being in a hurry through this town
though; it's all too quaint for me.
The post office was
a place where Mrs. Wilkins has been working since before I was born,
and believe me she knows something scandalous about everyone. The
sheriff, Mr. Johnson, really only busts tourists for breaking the
speed limits, and I've never seen an arrest here in town. I've never
been to church, but they say that the Priest can make you cry for
spitting in public, and yes, if you did it, someone saw you. Everyone
knows everyone else. All the little shops are run by the locals and
everyone says “Hello” to you. It is
too
boring
for me, but I grew up here, so maybe I would like it more if I moved
from some huge city that was scary or something.
I drove up to the
cluster of plain brown buildings that were just as I had left them-
dull. I parked in the student lot, my car usually stuck out like a
sore thumb, but today there was a shiny, red sports bike in the lot.
Being that I was already running late, I'd have to gawk at it later.
Wipe
the drool and get to class, you can't be late on the first day!