Home of The Brave [[ON HOLD]]

[STARRING YOU! YES YOU!]

You wake up to a world that is vastly different to the one that you fall asleep to. There are no 'adults' - everyone over the age of 25 has suddenly disappeared.

It's a teen-eat-teen world out there. Some people are creating new countries - new teen led clans. You and your friends become involved in a clan conflict, wanting to unite the new 'adults' and teenagers together. However, some mysteries have popped up around the globe.

Can you find out what's happened before they take you too? Time's ticking.

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1. the beginning: i

Home of the Brave.

Prologue.

You wake up with a sudden jolt, sweat beads slowly trickling down your face. Your heart beats rapidly as if you had been running a marathon. You try to cast your mind back to your dream, wondering whether it crossed the blurred lines between a dream and nightmare. Goosebumps pop up across your arms even though you’re safely covered by your duvet. You open your eyes to be faced with an almost darkness, with only utter darkness in the unknown corners of your room. You can still make out the objects closest to your by their size, shape but further than that, they start to look like unknown creatures of the night.

You wonder why your body forced you awake at…what time? Your eyes dart to the green blinking numbers on your alarm clock. The only source of light within your room starts to make your eyes hurt as you stare at the numbers hoping that they’ll start to make sense soon.

01:00

Only five hours left until you had to be up for school. You sighed as you settled back in your bed, preparing your mind to fall back into your dreams. Out of the corner of your eye, something – a shadow, you hope it’s nothing- moves across your room. It moves too quickly for your eyes to follow it. The hairs on your arms stand up on edge. You feel the tips of the hairs brush against the duvet, sending a small tingly sensation to travel up your arm. At the same time, a tree swings its braches at your window, its leaves blocking out the recently flickering streetlight’s light in the far distance. Your body jumps as if you were falling in your dream.

Your eyes are slowly drooping but your mind is awake and fights the urge sleep. You aim lazily for the light switch, causing a few books to fall on the floor. You aim again, this time with a bit more effort, to hit the light switch on the lampstand and you succeed. But the sudden light blinds you temporarily. You blink a couple of times to help adjust your eyes to the brightness. Everything is the way that you left it – your coat is still hanging at the back of the door, there is still a growing dump of clothes on the floor, the fallen books are scattered on the floor and your laptop is still shut on the table.

Everything is as it should be. Yet, you feel as if something’s off.

The shadow that you swore you saw disappears. You try to remember which direction it moved but your memory fails you as you search around the hidden corners of your room. You chalk it up to a late-night hallucination, something that you’re used to seeing since insomnia moved in. You become more alert as seconds turn into minutes but you close your eyes anyway, hoping to drift back to sleep. You lay there, trying to resist the urge to move your body. The rain falls harder outside your window, the soft patters attempting to lull you back to sleep.

You give up with trying to cross the hazy lines between sleep and reality. A shiver travels up your leg as your feet connect with the cold, hardwood floor. You dig around blindly with your foot, using your toes to grab mindlessly at the air for your furry slippers. Your little toe hits something hard – a book, a box, you’re not sure - and the pain spreads across your foot. You bite on your fist, trying hard to muffle your yelps of pain, knowing well that your parents are in the next room. You carefully place your feet on specific floorboards, hoping to avoid the floorboards that creaked. The heavy snores of your father travels through the walls, allowing you to mask the doors’ sound as it opens.

The light from your room travels down the hallway, illuminating the objects in the hall and creating new shadows. Shadows that are unlike the one that you thought you saw in your room. These shadows resembled the objects you were so familiar with seeing, the moving shadow resembled nothing in your room. The only sounds you can hear are your own heavy breathing and the rain outside; your dad’s snoring seems to have lessened now.

You head for the bathroom, looking back over your shoulder with each step you make. Your heart stills, the rapid beating is no longer a problem. The shadow was probably just a figment of your imagination, you try to convince yourself.  You tell yourself not to worry, there’s nobody here, there’s nobody to fear. But you flinch when something knocks against the hallway window, your hands in a defence position. You slowly realise that it’s one of the branches of the 50-year-old oak tree near your house. You laugh softly to yourself, how silly you’d appear to a possible robber. You, in your pyjamas, eyes wild, and hands prepared to hurt, armed with your cartoon slippers.

“A joke.” You mutter to yourself, after going to the toilet. You head back to your room, stunned by the eerie silence that fills your house. You turn the light off before retreating back into your bed, your room yet again returning to the state it once was. You close your eyes, having no hope that you’ll fall asleep quickly. You estimate that it’ll probably take around 3 hours at best before you fall back into your dreamland.

Sleep comes faster than you expected.

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