This is my entry for the city of bones competition. A story inspired by city of bones following the story of the girl named Ashlin.


1. A Mysterious Morning

Drifting. The light fading,all essence of weight gone. Darkness everywhere I look, I gasp for air that doesn't come. My own body feels empty and cold. Lungs tightening and claustrophobia kicking in. suffocation, a slow, sweet way to die. No worries as none are important. Suddenly a high wailing screech rips through the darkness.

Staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom, the same four walls huddled around me. Another strange dream of weird creatures and swirling patterns. These dreams have been following me for months, whenever I close my eyes it’s all I see. Blurry eyed and fuzzy haired I get up and stagger across my room to the window. Yesterday’s clothes are thrown on the floor as other clothes are spilling out the wardrobe and dresser. The desk in the corner is scattered with papers, revision notes, notebooks, books all to help with exams.

It’s five o’clock so most of New York is asleep, a thick layer of fog smothers the city, hiding the cluttered back allies and littered roads. Pulling off my pajamas I tug on my jumper and jeans and head out my bedroom for the front door. I creep across the apartment, while passing the kitchen I grab a piece of bread for breakfast and grab my keys. The front door creaks open and I slip out through the gap and lock it behind me. The corridors outside our flat are silent as I make my down the steps to the ground floor.

The fog outside is slowly lifting but it’s impossible to see the end of the street but I know where I’m going, Down the street, left on to the next, then across the road to the park. My favorite place to be in the morning. I head over the big willow tree and start climbing, pulling myself up onto each branch until I reach the top. I perch myself on a high branch and view the park.

The green of this park has always been a safe place for me, it’s just visible from my window on a clear day, but today something feels different. Normally there are birds and the wind blowing through the trees but not today. The fog is strangling everything and casting dark shadows across the ground, but, the shadows were moving, not swaying like shadows of trees through. These were unnatural and strange, distinct movements like the ones of my dreams, Human and yet beastly movements. I shift closer and towards the end of the branch, keeping a tight grip on the bark. The shapes started to become clearer but still mysterious. I slowly shuffle closer concentrating on the figures but I slip. I fall from the branch making one last grab for the tree but miss and tumble towards the ground at high speed. The ground quickly comes up to meet me and I close my eyes waiting for the end, for the cold feeling of death.

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