Music of the Clown

Автор Atlas

A face is lurking in the darkness. The face of...pure evil.

In 2005, teenager, Christopher Robertson, with some other dropouts started a band. Unbeknownst to them, there is evil hunting them, watching their every move. Evil is coming for each of them...all because of Christopher.

• Язык: Русский
• Издатель: Words Matter Publishing
• Дата выпуска: 18 янв. 2024 г.
• ISBN: 9781958000717

Atlas

Up-and-coming author, Atlas, is a freshman at Benton Consolidated High School. He created his first book never expecting it to be published. A quiet person, Atlas fills his writing with detail and suspense.

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Chapter One

Christopher awoke at 10:13 a.m. per the ignorance of his sleep schedule and the thrill and love he had for playing music. He had slept in his dark blue jeans and an Arctic Monkeys t-shirt. Christopher sat up and opened the drawer of his bedside table. Pulling out his Nokia 1110, he saw he had a message from Nick. However, on Christopher’s phone, he had him labeled as Nicholas because he knew Nick hated his full first name. Opening the message, he found, Last nites reehursul wus rokin!

Christopher chuckled to himself, Nick had never been a great speller, even when they first met. He replied with a simple, Yeah, it was. Putting his phone in his back pocket, he stood with a yawn and a light stretch of his back. Seeing the window was still open from last night when he snuck out, he shut it quietly, drawing the curtains back over it in a normal yet haphazard way to match the mess that was in his room. He walked out of his room, and he could hear his father mowing the lawn out front of their trailer.

Since the death of Christopher’s mother in 1995, he and his father had moved into a trailer park, Breazeale Trailer Park, to be exact. Mark, Christopher’s father, said this trailer park was founded in 1984, eleven years before Christopher’s mother died. Christopher looked at a framed picture of his mother, his father’s wife, Maria, or Marinara. He was told his mother’s sister called her that since she was little, but he brushed it off. He would never get to hear it anyway; why think of it? Maria was a beautiful woman in Mark’s eyes; she had the best auburn-colored hair with her fade-to-orange hair dye. The last thing Mark remembered of his wife was the beautiful smile she had as she died while trying to shield six-year-old Christopher from the heartbreak of watching his mother die.

Christopher heard the mower stop as he looked away from the photo