Black Dawn

The Earth didn't wake up.
When Aurora Mavros wakes up for another day of high school, the last thing she expected was that no one else would wake up. No one. After discovering that the entire planet seemed to be stuck in a coma, Aurora excepts defeat. Insecurity.
Eve Black was always the last in her family to wake up. Until today, when everyone slept. And slept. Rebellion.
Doce Luto was as hot as the noonday sun. But had a charming way of keeping his cool no matter what the circumstances. Until today, when the world was as cold as bitter ice. Vanity.
Luna Noir foolishly chose that night to attempt an all-nighter, knowing she had school the next morning. The most traumatized of the six, Luna watches her family collapse into eternal slumber. Sensitivity.
Fleck Schwarz had a fancy way of making people listen. It came as quite a shock to him that no one listened to his frantic screams of "wake up!". Leadership.
Shai Li was, like his name, shy. Faith.

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2. Eve Black

     "You're freaking kidding me," I cursed under my breath as I pulled uselessly on the knob on my front door. Its plain brass knob stood firmly in place, locked from the inside. They always do that, I thought to myself. It wasn't the first time, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

     I turned around and looked at my surroundings. More than once my heart skipped a beat at the sound of sirens in the distance. It was just a small fire this time, only took down an old garage on the outskirts of the suburbs. No one would miss it. My friends had a laugh, glorying in their rebellion as the flames ignited their irises in an orange glow.

     There was something about fire that gave me a giddy sensation deep in my stomach. The doctors called me a pyromaniac. My peers thought I was a lunatic. Even my small group of friends were sometimes afraid of my obsession. My parents could only give me looks as if to say, "Where'd we go wrong? Your brother Hunter is valedictorian, Eve! Why can't you be more like him?"

     Screw him, I thought maliciously.

     Giving up on the front door, I snuck expertly around the left side of my crisp brown, looks-like-everyone-else's-suburbia house. I made my way to the first window, directly underneath a balcony that led to my room. Cursing my parents and perfect brother again, I hoisted myself up onto the familiar white windowsill that sat above the sink in our kitchen. I could barely make out the blue light shining above our oven, which read the time: 11:57.

     I was dead.

     Not giving the time much more thought, I stepped lightly on the white painted ledge, aware I was leaving a sooty ash print messy enough to make my mom cringe. My long pale fingers gripped the wooden ledge above me, slipping slightly.

     Two years ago it hadn't been there. For my fourteenth birthday I asked for a field day at Menards. My dad lunged at the idea. For one, he worked in construction and thought it was a great way for us to bond. Secondly, he was surprised to find that for once I wanted to build something, not tear it down with fire. I remembered refusing to tell him what I had in mind. The entire car ride was tense. I knew he was worried I'd coax him into buying me a lifetime supply of kerosene and matches. There was no need for that; Walmart had the worst security.

     The corners of my mouth twitched as I climbed.

     I remembered making a beeline for wooden boards, nails, nail guns, and saws. My dad promptly led me away from those, saying that he had all types of saws already stored in our garage. The price at the checkout counter was near jaw-dropping worthy, yet my dad handed the cashier his credit card without hesitation.

     My arms trembled under my weight. I was halfway up.

     We spent one long week on it, but it was finished almost too quickly. For a few hours each day we worked on my balcony. We'd plug in the radio, listening to my dad's favorite genre of music: Old Rock. I'd stand by the window and hand him tools while he put the boards together perfectly. I remembered envying his skill, the way my dad could put things together and make them sturdy, yet clean and pristine too. His tan fingers were long like mine, but strong and nimble, great for working with things or climbing.

     I grasped one of the bars with my slick hand.

     Once the floor of the balcony was laid down, my father let me climb out of the window to help him build the bars all around and finally, the railing. That took only two days, since we both were working together. We made holes in the wooden floor at 6 inch intervals, placed the beams inside, then nailed them in. Soon, outside my window was a simple, yet perfect wooden balcony 2 feet wide and 4 feet across.

     I placed my left foot on the ledge.

     Then the worst part came. Two weeks later, my friends and I burnt down a gas station that caught my friend stealing cigs. I hated the things, hated the smell, hated the fact that you had to be dependent on them. I hated being dependent on anything, so even though I loved being a pain, I couldn't bring myself to touch the things. But I could burn a place down.

     I remember that was the first time I used our creation as a sneak-back-in route.

     Half an hour later, a sheriff had knocked on our door.

     Like the bright flash from a camera, my dad's disappointed face shined in my eyes. I saw that look so often now I hardly could remember the proud smile he had given me the day we finished the balcony.

     My right foot still dangled in the air. I hardly noticed that my left was inching backwards.

     The words he had said to me rang in my ears, as if he was right beside me saying them.

     "My daughter, why?"

     My left foot slipped entirely off the ledge.

     I yelped in shock as my hands slipped down the wooden beams so fast I had no time to react. My stomach felt as if it dropped out of my body completely. My black hair whipped around my face. My hands stretched outward, reaching for nothing that could save me. My back hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Every ounce of air deserted my lungs. And my head....

     Eve Black was swallowed in darkness.

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