All Credit For Characters ect. To Their Rightful Owners. I Do Not Own Anything.

The Last Sunset

Chapter 1. My Passing Nightmare

It was a dark and eerie night; all I could see was a large muscular man and that voice. Then I woke up. That was how it always ended and then it began again the next night. I thought there was nothing that could stop me reliving my worst living nightmare; my parents, my sister, my whole family, brutally murdered. To get to me, the youngest but the smartest compared to my sister who was flunking most subjects. Every night my mum shouted up the stairs "Zahra, honey, have done your homework and brushed your teeth." She always knew I had, it was just out of habit she asked, but I always said "yes mum, I'm going to bed love you." And she would say "I love you too."

I was 12, just started secondary school. I was in my room doing my homework as I usually did every Friday night so that I would have the weekend to do something more important. Well more important in my view anyway. I always took care of the wild animals living in the forests that surrounded my large, striking house. Every Saturday and Sunday morning I would take food for all the animals. My parents used to say I had a special bond with animals, as they trusted me before I even tried to give them food.

It was Friday night and I went to bed early, 8pm as usual, well, usual for me anyway. I had been asleep for a few hours when a noise woke me up, followed by an ear-splitting screech. I went downstairs as quickly and quietly as I could to see a large man standing over the bodies of my family. I gasped and the man turned and slowly walked towards me. I was frozen on the spot. That's when I heard it for the first time. The most angelic, perfect voice anyone could ever hear "stay calm", but the man didn't seem to notice the voice, only the change in my expression; he looked at me with a confused gesture, shrugged it off, and pulled out a black bag. "Stand up" the voice told me, and so I did without argument. The man didn't seem worried that I stood and continued towards me. "Fly" was all the voice said, without thinking I turned and ran up the stairs. I ran towards my open window and jumped out. At that moment I pulled out two long white wings and glided through the air. It wasn't something I had to think about it just came, like a natural instinct. I knew I could fly from the age of 9 but I never told my family, worried that they would think I was a freak. And I guessed that was the reason I wasn't killed immediately. But they were.

I regretted my decision not to tell my family, even after 5 years, thinking maybe I could have saved them, but it didn't help thinking that, if they did know, they would have been killed sooner. Either way it was my fault, I was the freak show that caused the murder of my innocent family. I'm still grieving, and I always will. I would have given myself to the vial, disgusting creatures that killed them, if I knew they wouldn't be harmed, no matter what my fate was. Death would have been a small price to pay to save the ones I loved.

I decided I would try and be normal. I changed my name, moved schools and got a part time job as an assistant in a local vet practise. Calming animals was always my speciality, and every time they said "Renée, how do you do that?" and every time I answer "I'm just good with animals." They would huff and say 'yeah, yeah' and I would move onto the next patient or have my break in the 'keep room' as I called it where the animals were put to recover from operations. My school was okay, but you know school, especially collage. Everyone looks at you and laughs, shouts or gives you some other inappropriate gesture. But I had my fair share of that, nothing new or out of the ordinary.

I meet my best friend when I moved to Corsica school, when I was 13. Her name was Maya Reade. We went to the same collage, both studying to be animal nursing assistants. One day she noticed I was upset, she asked what was wrong and I told her "5 years." She knew what I meant. She told me about her family for the first time, like mine, her parents died. But they died in a plane crash not by the hand of an evil maniac. She had never once told me about this, so I decided I would tell her almost everything. I gave her a run though, skipping most bits.

"I was 12 someone broke in and killed my family while I was upstairs; I heard a scream and hid. The man that broke in set the alarm off but before he left he found me but the police got there in time to rescue me, but it was too late for my family. I changed my name with the police protection unit and moved to Corsica." I thought it might be best to leave out the wings, for now.

Okay Guys So Tell Me What You Think, What I Should Have Added, Blah Blah Blah. It's nice to know if someone is enjoying my story so just a "good work!" would be nice. (No offence, but I have pretty much finished this so I won't be changing anything unless someone comes up with one of the best ideas ever that I can include.) Thanks!