Six Strangers, Lora Carlson [best books under 200 pages .txt] 📗

Zack Anderson’s POV

“C’mon Z! Which chick would you wanna date?” my best friend Tyler asked me during lunch. I looked around the courtyard, pretending to search for a girl.

“Sorry dude.” I shook my head while biting into my sandwich.

“Okay. Fine. How ‘bout.... Samantha Fenning?”

I shake my head.

“Natalie Owens?”

“No.”

“Nyla Marie?”

“Nope.”

“Dude! You're hopeless! I give up.” 

I just chuckled and finished my sandwich.

After school I was hanging out talking to Tyler when my phone went off like crazy, I pulled it out and check the caller I.D. Mom.

“What’s up Mom?”

“Zack, You have to pick up your sister.”.

“Why? She’s fourteen, she can walk home.”

“No. This is serious Zack. She got in a fight at school and ran off the grounds.”

“What?” I waved Tyler away, mouthing to him to go on without me.

“The principal called me about half an hour ago.”

“Don’t worry Mom, I’ll find her”.

My sister is someone you’d call impulsive. But I know exactly where she is. I jogged to the parking lot and hopped into my beat up green Jeep. I kicked it into gear and cruised out of the lot. I drove straight until I reached the “Community park” which is really a field of grass with hazardous swings and the death trap known as a slide. I walk past the swings and towards the slide. She’s usually hiding under the slide behind the latter. Yes, I said latter. It’s that old.

As walked towards the slide I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around.

“Tammi?” I asked as I looked around. I turned back around slowly and stopped dead in my  tracks. Standing right in front of me was a scarecrow. Well, it was actually a guy in black cloths with a burlap sack over his head. The sack had a mouth and eyes stitched onto it. He just stood there, watching me. I made the stupid mistake of trying to step around the freak. I ended up with a needle in my arm and a headache.The last thing I remembered is seeing my sister peeking from around the slide.

Seth Night’s POV

School sucks. Completely. I had my homework stolen, my lunch knocked out of my hands and last but not least, I was punched in the face. I’m not a dork or anything, I have dull brown eyes and dull shaggy blonde hair. So I can’t think of a reason to be punched in the face.

I usually take a walk along the river after school but I had to watch my brother Simon and his friend Jeffrey. The afternoon was mostly uneventful except for when I had to remove Simon from the tree in the backyard because he was “stuck”. After Jeffrey finally left I went up to my room and finished my painting. It’s an abstract piece called “Darkness”. It’s a mix of purple, black, dark blue and dull yellow. No one knows, but I love to paint. It’s my favorite past time after walking along the river.

After dinner and more painting I went to bed around eleven. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep so decided to take my walk. I snuck out of the house and made my way to the river. I walked slowly looking at the moon on the water. Whistling some made-up tune, I just enjoyed the quiet. I stopped mid whistle when I sensed someone behind me. I slowly turned on my heel and almost fell over with shock. In front of me was a man with a scarecrow mask holding a big needle. Even though his face was just stitched on, I swear he was staring at me. The burlap sack over his head was held on with a rope wrapped around his neck. It kinda looked like a noose. I took a small step back, to test him. When he didn’t move, I spun and made a run for it. I could hear him running after me. Since it was the middle of the night I was mostly running on adrenaline. I looked behind me and saw the scarecrow man thing right behind me. I turned my head back around and tripped over a root. I fell and scraped my knees and the palms of my hands. I flipped myself onto my back and put my arms over my face. That was a mistake. He stabbed me with the needle but it felt like a knife. A dull butter knife gouging into my arm. I screamed with all my might but could feel my consciousness fading. The last thing I saw was the scarecrow man cleaning my blood off his needle.

Michael Samson’s POV

I usually walk home from school, but that day I had to bike home. My Mom was having a work party at our house and I had to help set up. I walked out of the school and headed toward the bike racks. I was almost there when I saw a girl with blonde hair and pink highlights wrestling with a baby blue bike. I went to help her but a tall guy with black hair beat me to it. I switched direction and walked to my bike. I entered the combination on my lock and pulled my bike out of the rack. I unclipped my helmet from the handlebars and put it on. Safety first children. I hopped on my bike and cruised out of the lot, trying not to get hit by a reckless driver who was texting. I was about to turn left and go to my house, but then I remembered that I had to pick up plastic plates and cups for the party. I quickly changed direction and almost got nailed by a truck. I swerved, saving my life.

“Watch where you're going, kid!” The driver yelled at me. I rolled my eyes and worked my way down the sidewalk, swerving around kids drawing with chalk and an old lady walking her dog. I turned onto an abandoned street and started pedaling faster and looking around. I felt like someone was watching me. I was a couple of houses away from the end of the street when something hard knocked me off my bike. I hit the ground hard, rolling away from whatever tackled me off my bike. I was face down on the ground, so I lifted myself off the ground with a groan. I looked at the dark figure lifting himself off the ground. I squinted, trying to see his face. He looked at me and I took in his features. He was dressed in all black and had a burlap sack over his head. He looked like a scarecrow. I quickly stood up. But I must have hit my head when he tackled me, so the world started spinning. I sat down, feeling my head for a bump. I found one. I looked up when I saw his shoes. He just stood there. Watching me with his stitched on eyes. I was about to get up when he stabbed me in the chest with his giant needle. The last thing I remember is the pain of him yanking the needle out of my chest.

Nyla Marie’s POV

I could barely contain my excitement as I watched the clock. My leg bounced up and down under my desk. The movement made my hair fall into my face every few seconds, so I had to keep brushing it out of my face. I looked behind me and grinned at Rachel, my best friend. After school we were shooting a music video for “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars, and I was the star. I know, it’s kinda weird for me to lip synch Bruno Mars because I’m a girl and he’s a guy, but it looks cool nonetheless. I looked back to the front of the room where Mr. James was saying something about a field trip we were taking the next day. I brushed my hair out of my face again and the bell rung. I jumped out of my seat and ran-walked to the door. Just as I was about to open it I heard:

“Nyla, can I talk to you?” I lowered my hand and slowly walked back to Mr. James desk. He waited until we were the only people in the room.

“Is everything OK? I’m worried. You’ve been coming to class late, falling asleep in class and your grades are going down”  Mr. James said to me with honesty. I looked at him. Mr. James is the youngest teacher in the school. Almost all the girls are crushing on him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine” I mumbled as I slowly inched toward the door.  He stood up. I stopped walking. He never stands up when talking to a student. I should know, I watch through the little window above the door. I usually sit on Justin’s shoulders and watch the show. It’s like watching a movie on mute with no subtitles. He walked around the desk and leaned against it.

“Is everything OK at home?” He asked quietly. I looked at him wide eyed. Everyone at school knows that my mom remarried after the divorce. And everyone knows she married an angry drunk who has been to jail for child abuse. Sure, Greg is angry. And barely ever sober. But he is OK. I guess. Well, he has broken most of the plates and vases in the house. He also locked me in my room for a day, but other than that he’s OK.

“Yeah”

“Good. Have a good day Nyla”

“Okay......” I quickly walked out the door and into the hallway. Rachel, Justin and Ryan were all waiting for me.

“What happened?” Rachel whispered harshly.

“He was just talking to me about my grades, geez guys. Chill”

“I have to edit the music video tonight so we’d better get going” Ryan said while picking up his backpack and camera case. I nodded and we all walked out of the building together.

Rachel forgot that her iPhone was with her sister Stacy, so she went to get it with Ryan. I walked to the bike rack to my baby blue bike and took the key for my bike lock out of my pocket. I fumbled with it for a second then got it unlocked. I tugged on my bike. Nothing happened. I pulled on it again and tried twisting it to get it out. I was about to kick my bike when Justin came over and helped me get it out. I looked over my shoulder when I saw a flicker of movement and saw a tall guy with brown hair and wide shoulders walking away, to the other bike rack. I looked back at Justin.

“Did you see that guy?” I asked while braiding my hair for the ride.

“Which guy?”

“The one with brown hair and wide shoulders”

“You are gonna have to be more specific”

“Oh, never mind” I grumbled. Justin put his hands up in mock surrender. I patted my braid to make sure it wasn’t too bumpy, then hopped onto my bike. I clipped on my helmet.

“Meet ya there!” I yelled to Justin as I rolled out of the parking lot.

Seven minutes later I stood next to my bike, finger combing my hair. Rachel was the make-up artist but was always mad when my hair was really tangled. She was also pretty upset when I got my pink highlights, but then learned to love them. I heard Ryan’s car before I saw it. Not because the car was noisey, but because the people in it were.

Half an hour later we were in the middle of filming the music video. We were on the train tracks in the woods. There is a gravel parking lot next to the tracks were Ryan’s car was parked and were Rachel’s makeup table was set up. I stood on the train tracks for