Sixteen: Kimi Matthews Book 1

By S. A. Jarrett

Kimi was very excited to turn sixteen; she really hoped it would mean change as she saw her life as pretty dull. Little did she know that, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, she would wake up alone.

She was not only alone but was also in a world where everything looked the same apart from the fact that there were no other people, the weather was nondescript, and there was no sound. The only thing that seemed normal was when Kimi returned to her bedroom. When she looked out of the window, she was able to see all the comings and goings of a normal day, but why couldnt anyone see her?

Confused and alone, Kimi ended up in her best friend Claras house, where she finds out that a boy called Karl had exactly the same life as her. The bad news was that he was in a different country. The story developed as the two found a way to communicate but started to realize that very strange things were happening to them. Someone else was also trying to get in touch and had some life-changing information to share with them both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524636678

S. A. Jarrett

I live in a small Norfolk town with my teenage children, Jade and Ryan who keep me extremely busy. I started my writing career in the non-fiction world of educational writing, where I write student materials in my own subject area of horticulture. Writing has always been a passion of mine and being published has been an ambition for many years. I started writing Sixteen when my children started school, now they are about to leave. Growing up in Norfolk, England I went to a small village school where my high school best friend and I would always hope something vaguely exciting might happen. This is where the idea for my main character Kimi Matthews was born. I’m a huge fan of fiction, especially the supernatural and paranormal. My favourite authors are Tim O’Rourke, H.P.Mallory, P.C and Kristin Cast and Rachel Caine. They have all kept me sane and fuelled my imagination - I hope to be able to do that for my readers too.

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© 2016 S. A. Jarrett. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/01/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3666-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3665-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3667-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Silence

Window

Karl

Lila Daythorne

What Now?

Alone (Karl)

Union

The Little Girl

The Key

My Wishing Star

Dan

Trust

Why?

Seeking Truth

Found

A Long Way from Home

Home

Powers

About the Author

SILENCE

I WOKE UP to a lazar of bright orange light burning into my eyes from last night’s badly drawn curtains. Even pulling the duvet over my head didn’t prolong my lazy, birthday morning-lay-in. I found that I was just unable to breathe.

It was time to leave The Pit, as my mum often referred to it. Typically, when I have time for a long lay-in I can’t sleep, but when I need to get up for school, I could sleep for a year.

Like most teenagers, I am the proud owner of an extremely untidy bedroom. This drives my mum insane, but for me it has its advantages – in fact, the dodging motions required, meant that this morning I could bypass the mirror so I didn’t have to face the horror of my bed hair. I shuffled through the mess for my phone to complete my usual morning social media check. A blank screen greeted me. Brilliant, I moaned as the phone ended up back on the floor with the rest of the mess. I couldn’t even begin to think about where my charger might be.

I paused at my bedroom door to spend a few moments staring at the array of beautiful pictures stuck to the back of it. I am only allowed to put pictures on my door because my mum is strict about me sticking pictures all over her walls, even though it’s MY bedroom. As a result, there wasn’t an inch of door that didn’t have a picture stuck to it. I stared at the beautiful male specimens that were looking back at me with admiration. I tried to mentally prepare myself for my mum’s inevitable excited party mood. I most certainly wasn’t a chirpy morning person like my mother.

The warm carpet hugged my feet as I tip-toed quietly downstairs. There wasn’t a sound to be heard. Knowing Mum, she would be fit to bursting in our front room with a huge pile of presents, ready to blurt out the Happy Birthday song as soon as I appeared. Embarrassing, yes, but she’d done that for every one of my previous birthdays.

Although my eyes were still trying to adjust to the light, I could see that the room was empty. Turning on the spot, I headed for the kitchen. I felt a sinking feeling – what if there were balloons on the walls? Did she think I was a five-year-old or something? The door creaked as it opened, but beyond that there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Thankfully the kitchen wasn’t so bright, which gave my eyes a chance to focus on the second empty room of the morning.

My Mum had never stayed in bed late on my birthday before. My feet touched seven of the fourteen steps on our stairs in a rush to give Mother some of my new, never before used, sixteen-year-old hassle. I paused outside Mum’s door, briefly realising that it wasn’t just quiet in the house – it was silent. I frowned.

The door handle took a bit of turning as I entered the dimly-lit room.

Mother what do you thi… I began. In front of me was an empty, un-made bed and closed curtains. That was odd. She always made her bed and opened her curtains when she got out of bed. This was so she could nose on her best friend Will, who jogs past in his tight shorts at a certain time every morning.

My mum is almost forty, although she certainly doesn’t look it. She says she looks younger because, unlike her friends, she has no man in her life. Her eyes are green and sparkle when she smiles and she has short brown hair almost the colour of mine, although that’s the only likeness we share. Mum is shorter than me by about three inches – she is what they call petite in both her features and in her shape, and she dresses very well – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mum in anything other than a dress.

Mum and Will have been friends for years. They work together and flirt outrageously. Neither of them would ever admit to it, and on the odd time when I have mentioned it I’ve always earned myself a stern talking to. Honestly, adults – I really struggle to understand them sometimes. I’d had a conversation with my best friend Clara only days before.

Will’s quite nice for an older bloke, I’d laughed.

Agreed, said Clara as we knuckle-bumped. He’s got that tall, dark haired thing going on. We had giggled together for a while and likened Will to Gerard Butler with less muscle. We often likened people to the rich and famous, although not always in a good way.

I’d spoken to Clara about how I’d told my mum several times to just go for it with Will and how every time she’d flicked my arm and done some silly giggle. We’d spent some time pretending to be my mum and laughed.

Obvious or what, we’d said at the same time, still giggling.

Now though, outside Mum’s door, I was growing more and more irritated.

MUM.

Silence.

MUM YOU CAN STOP HIDING. I AM AN ADULT TODAY YOU KNOW.

Nothing. This was all beginning to feel a little bit suspicious.

I looked to the bottom of the stairs. The chain was still on the front door and my keys were dangling from the lock. That’s when the penny dropped. I knew exactly where my mum was: in the back garden. I had asked for a new bike after all – she must have still been wrapping it. I reached the back door and found the keys still dangling from the lock. I don’t mind admitting that I was a little scared. I started humming in a weird kind of way in an attempt not to panic.

MOTHER, I shouted with a little more urgency, I’M NOT FINDING THIS FUNNY.

My legs wouldn’t move quickly enough through the house as I shouted for my mum. When she didn’t answer I tried my brother Wade, even though I knew he was at Uni. I also tried my other brother Dom, though he wouldn’t be here either – he lives with his girlfriend Mel a few miles away. Then there was the stab in the dark. DAD? he doesn’t even live with us and hasn’t for at least thirteen years. That’s when realisation hit: no one was here. I was alone.

My heart tried to squeeze its way out of my chest and my mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. I sat down, scanning the kitchen for a note or some clue as to why I was alone.

Christ Kimi. Sort yourself out, I said to myself. I do that a lot. I tried to think logically; I came in late last night, I didn’t see anyone and I locked the door. Mum hasn’t been home! I thought about ringing her, but decided I wanted to see what she had to say for herself, in person. Especially considering the number of lectures I’ve had to listen to about being responsible.

I had managed to calm myself down and was feeling slightly better. I decided on a lazy morning; I think I deserved it. After all, it was my birthday, and I hadn’t seen one person. All that worrying had tired me out.

Sinking back into the sofa, I tucked my legs under myself and reached for the remote.

Yes. A TV morning is on the cards.

I didn’t even get chance to notice what came on the TV –something else had caught my eye. Above the fireplace, the clock read three o’clock…

Three o’clock shocked me straight off the sofa, and I ran upstairs to my room. No wonder everyone was out. Mum would be at the book shop, and I should have been at ballet two hours ago. My teacher, Miss Sara Michelle, would not be impressed. How could I have lain in so late? I really thought it was morning.

At this point, if I’d have stopped to think logically, I might have realised that things weren’t as they seemed.

Clara and I have been best friends since we started school. Clara is the complete opposite of me. For a start, she isn’t ordinary like me. Clara is tall, or leggy as the boys at school liked to refer to her, whereas I am just a normal height for my age. She is always perfectly dressed in matching clothes, while I’m more into a grungy look with jeans, jumpers and t-shirts. And on top of all that, she is extremely beautiful, and has the most gorgeous red curly hair you’ve ever seen in your entire life. I’m just plain with straight, brown, shoulder-length hair. That said, I do have something going for me: my eyes. They are brown with flecks of gold in them. I’ve never seen eyes like mine before, and they are my favourite feature.

Yesterday, we had arranged to meet for lunch today before ballet, but I’d missed this date. I pictured Clara’s beautiful red hair all wild and steam coming from her ears, because she certainly had that red hair stress thing going on. I flew back to my room to find my phone where I knew a million texts would be waiting. I would also be tagged in some smarty pants status update like, Clara Wells best friend Kimi Matthews is a… in-box me with suggestions.

Remembering my phone was dead I ran around trying to locate the house phone, eventually finding it under a pile of clothes. I had to call Clara and explain. However, once the phone reached