Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ Lonely ❯ Nevermore ( Chapter 3 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Nevermore
 

This is the third chapter of Lonely, once again a separate story from the last two!

The house. It was gone.
 
All her possesions, all her memories. All gone.
 
Hilary stood before the ruins of her home a day after the tragedy, Tyson's hand on her shoulder.
 
She was glad to have him, and her other friends as well, with her.
 
(((((((((Flashback))))))))))
 
The 5 of them (Hilary, Tyson, Kai, Ray, and Max) were being typical teenagers and partying in the basement of Hilary's house. Well, except Kai, who was leaning up against a wall.
 
Kai nearly fell asleep; thinking that this party would be just like any other they'd had, that is, until he heard something ticking in the background.
 
Oh my God! It's a bomb! I know one when I hear one…the question is, when will it go off?
 
Kai's question was soon answered. The ticking got faster, and faster still, meaning the bomb was just about to explode.
 
(Actually I'm sure that's not really how bombs work, but it is now, okay?)
 
“Hilary!” Kai yelled to the 14-year-old girl, who was currently doing her rendition of `She will be loved' on the karaoke machine.
 
“We've got to get out of here now! NOW! There's a bomb; trust me, I know one when I hear one; and it'll go off in 1 minute!”
 
Hilary and the others gasped, and ran out of the house as fast as they could. They didn't think that Kai would joke about matters like that. Or about anything, come to think about it.
 
Unfortunately, they forgot about Hilary's family in the rush.
 
Hilary fled for the field that was down the street.
 
Tyson closely followed her.
 
She dove into the field, curled up into a ball, and shut her eyes tight. She didn't want to see the horrible thing that was about to happen.
 
Then she realized that her family was still in the building.
 
The bomb would go off in 5 seconds; it was much too late to save them.
 
The bomb went off.
 
It was loud, but no where near loud enough to muffle the ear-piercing scream, which was soon followed by a series of heart-breaking sobs, that Hilary let out.
 
Tyson held the girl and let her cry on his shoulder.
 
“NO…way…my parents… my brother…my family…all…DEAD!” Hilary yelled in between uncontrollable sobs.
 
What did I do to deserve this… WHAT, I ask you, WHAT! I'm just an ordinary teenaged girl, who wants to lead a normal life!
 
By this time, Hilary had stopped crying. She looked up, and saw Tyson's crimson eyes. She smiled when she saw them. They were a comfort to her; they let her know that at least one thing was still the same.
 
(A/N: Interesting how you can feel that way about a pair of eyes…)
 
Tyson could feel Hilary drifting off to sleep.
 
He couldn't help it; he was tired, too. The two had nowhere to go for the time being, so he ended up falling asleep right there in the field.
 
Hilary smiled, and snuggled closer to him. She fell into a peaceful sleep (well, as peaceful as could be with all that had happened), but not before whispering into Tyson's ear, “No matter what happens, I know that I'll always have you, at least.”
 
(((((((((End Flashback))))))))))
 
The bomb had been more powerful than they'd thought. It blew the house right up, and there was nothing left of anything except ashes, and a few beams and drywall chunks.
 
Hilary didn't bother to hope that one of her family members might still be alive. She knew they'd have been blown to smithereens, like the rest of the house.
 
Suddenly, her something shiny caught her eye.
 
She got permission from the police officers that were present to go past the bright yellow `caution' tape and into the mess that used to be her house, possesions, and—she shivered—her family.
 
She bent down to pick up the silver object. She was thrilled when she saw that it was what she thought: her photo album.
 
Inside there were hundreds of pictures of her family and friends, all the good times with the bladebreakers, that memorable evening on the hill with Tyson…she sighed, and slipped her hand into a navy blue velvet pocket at the back of the book that held a beautiful silver locket with an `H' engraved on the front.
 
She held it up, and put it on, not caring how dirty it was.
 
She swore to herself that she wouldn't take it off, not ever. Well, maybe once, to clean it!
 
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