September 3rdI like to read a lot. It's generally a thing that I do, or at least try to do as much as I can. Two years ago, I read a book almost every day, and on this particular dayor night, ratherI was reading Inkdeath, an excellent novel I had just recently come into possession of. It was far later at night than I was permitted to be awake at, being only 13 years old, but it was dead silent and everyone was asleep, and I simply could not pull myself away from that book. It really was an exceptional one.
I was very much sucked into that book, but at the same time, more than aware of any noises around me, coiled tense and ready to spring should I hear any signs of life from upstairs, where my mother and twin sister were asleep. That's why I jumped so high into the air when a sudden BANG filled my ears.
It came from upstairs; that much I knew. And it was a familiar noise, actually. It was the sound of someone falling. Why is that familiar? Well, remember that af