The Hanging Tree

Twisting bark, sharp finger like leaves, and a rope necklace. A song in the wind will draw you into it's grip. You will never escape The Hanging Tree...


2. An Accident

"Ophelia!" a voice called from the bottom of the stairs. "Get up! I'm going now!" I just moaned and rolled off the bed. I had a feeling in the back of my throat, the kind you get when you don't brush your teeth the night before. But I knew I wasn't ill though. I almost never get sick or at all unhealthy. Maybe I was just resistant to viruses and stuff like that. I rarely get a cold, the most commonest of things. Most people get them every half year or so, but I get one every few years and when I do, it's only for a few days. I laboured to my feet and grabbed my uniform from the floor. It's always never been my type of thing to actually hang things up, my room shows that.


I changed into my black trousers and white polo shirt, I was already wearing a socks and I slept in my vest. I quickly washed and brushed my teeth then hurried down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, I slipped into my shoes and continued to the kitchen. I never ate at lunch, but I did eat when I got in to be fair. I grabbed a glass and poured myself a glass of juice, but it was gone in one swig. I grabbed a cereal bar, my bag and hoodie by the front door and left, slamming the door behind me. I wasn't late or anything, but I like to take my time walking to school. I pulled on my black hoodie and began eating. I hung my red tartan bag on my shoulder and observed the view. Nothing really. Just a grey street, miserable from the rain last night. The houses at the one side were almost all identical, except the varying garden decorations. Ours didn't have anything, just a simple patch of grass and a path.


The cars drove pass, spilling the puddles, pushing them to the side. Nothing exciting was going to happen today, I can already tell. It's gonna be boring. On the other side of the street was nothing except fields overgrown with weeds and other nasty plants alike. I never knew why, but no-one ever goes there. No-one ever speaks about the fields. There were plenty of other fields that people used, but it's that one that I've never known about. Curiosity suddenly switched on in the back of my mind, like a reminder to think about it later.


I got to school about ten minutes later. The green, harsh looking gates were open as they always are at this time. But the car park was almost empty, just the occasional sedan or hatchback. I let it slip my mind. I walked through the pedestrian gate and went straight to the canteen. I just waited there for my friends since I was always the first person to get there. I settled onto the uncomfortable plastic chair and raided my bag. Maybe I had a message on my phone. I scratched out the HTC and got through. Nope nothing.




Oh! I got a message. Must be them saying they here. I opened it up, it was from Natasha:
Get out here!
Has something happened? That would explain why there was basically no people here, the bell is about to go too. I rushed outside, there was a massive crowd gathered around something. I tried to get closer, but I had no luck.
"Ophelia!" I turned. Natasha was standing at least ten metres away. I quickly rushed to her, but as I got closer I noticed two things. Scarlet wasn't here and  Natasha was in tears.
"Natasha, what's wrong?" I asked desperately. She was shaking, her mascara running a little.
"It was an accident," she trembled out. I was scared now. I didn't know what she was talking about.
"Where's Scarlet?" I asked. She didn't say anything, but seized my hand and dragged me away.


We got deeper into the crowd, I don't know what she was trying to tell me. But I was shaking now. Everyone parted as we walked through. I could hear faint sirens in the distance, their blurriness growing. We got to the center and there she was. There Scarlet was, laying on the floor, almost under a car, soaking in a puddle of her own blood...

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...