just the first chapter of my nano novel. updates weekly on mondays.

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       The rock was small and light grey, brightly contrasted against Aaron's muddy palm.

It was smoothed into a thick ring with a small hole set exactly in the center not quite

large enough for Aaron to slip his little finger through. Aaron slipped the soiled stone

into his jacket pocket, an obvious lump forming from the tight cloth.
    He had received his jacket as a Christmas present three years before, the cuffs a

good two inches past his fingers and the extra material bunching up like excess skin

around his eleven year old form. He had taken to it immediately, covering his face against

the biting cold of his beach, stretching and manipulating it until it fit him better than

his shirt. He had outgrown it at the begging of his growth spurt, yet he refused to give it

up.
    Aaron gazed out across the waves crashing violently against the beach, towards the

red sun sinking slowly under the horizon, the same as so many times before. This was his

beach; his ocean, his sun, his sand. He had claimed from his first visit, too long before

to remember. Never in his life had he known it to be disturbed by anyone but him.
    The quarter mile trip back to his house was quick and relaxing, as it always felt.

The sight of his small, one story house brought his annoyance and anger back as he trudged

up the back steps and into the small kitchen. Inside, his mother, Alice, looked up from the

newspaper lying on the granite countertop, next to a bowl of what looked like brownie

batter.
    "Where have you been?" She asked. Aaron ignored her, but closed the door with

exaggerated force and crossed through the kitchen in long strides.
    "Well?" Alice pressed.
    "It's none of your business where I go! Stop bothering me!" Aaron shouted

instinctively, stepping into his bedroom and flinging the door shut behind him. Fuming, he

sat on his bed, the only piece of furniture in his room besides a small table covered in

papers, books, and other random junk tossed heedlessly onto it.
    He stared up at his dark ceiling, thinking furiously. He hated his room. He hated

his house. He hated his life, but most of all he hated his mother. Ever since his dad died

only months before, which was entirely has mom's fault because she allowed him to leave the

house that day, Alice was trying to be happy, as if the accident hadn’t happened. As though

things were fine. And she had become bothersome and way over-protective, always wondering

where he went and what he did. He never told her of course; she didn't deserve the

satisfaction of knowing her constant bugging had yielded in his weakening.
    A knock sounded on his door, followed by Alice's voice;
    "Aaron, I've got some brownies ready, if you would like to have-"
    "Go away! Give your stupid brownies to the bugs; they're the only ones who will be

able to stomach them," Aaron shouted at the door. Instantly he regretted his outburst. His

mother’s brownies were known throughout their neighborhood and were endlessly sought after.

Too late to take back his words, he slid off his bed and crossed the room to his desk, on

which his most treasured items lay amid the jumble: his shell collection.
    Of course, all of the beautiful shells came from his beach. They lay in a heap of

different shapes, sizes, colors; some were not even shells, but queer rocks, dried seaweed,

and the like. Aaron pulled the small stone he had found from his pocket, rubbing between

his fingers for a moment before placing it on the pile.
    Later that evening, he slipped out of his room, through the deserted kitchen, out

the back door, and ran to his beach. He was glad of the cold breeze from the ocean stinging

his cheeks and bringing life into him. As he neared his beach, he felt a flush of

bewilderment and anger. Standing near the distant shore was a girl, her back to him.
    It was almost impossible for anyone to even think of coming near his beach. Both

sides of the stretch of sand were blocked off by tall cliffs, spilling out into the water.

There was only one house within the quarter mile radius, its lawn scraggly and brown and

several windows boarded up. It had been empty of residents for over seven years. The only

way down a rocky slope that lead down to Aaron’s beech was entirely invisible to any

ignorant people. So how had someone managed to find, and reach, his beach?
    Aaron sprinted across the moist sand. As he drew nearer to the girl, he noticed

that she was about his own age, skinny and dirty. She looked around at him from her

concentration on the ground, dark brown hair spilling over her shoulder.  
    “what are doing here?” demanded Aaron forcefully. The girl looked surprised.
    “Why? Is it illegal to stand of public property?” she said politely.
    “This is my beach,” insisted Aaron, suddenly realizing how stupid the statement

sounded.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” she answered sarcastically, “I didn’t realize the state gave out

property to teenagers nowadays. May I have a small piece? I haven’t a beach of my own yet.”
    Aaron stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. She gave a little laugh at

his expression and stepped nimbly onto dry sand.
    "It's just that- that no one ever comes here besides me," explained Aaron,

flustered.
    "Well, as true as that may have been, the simple fact that I am talking to you and

you to me proves that you're wrong. By the way, I'm Sarah. Who are you?"
    "Uh, Aaron."
    "Nice to meet you, Aaron. Perhaps we will meet again."
Sarah set off up the beach towards the trail that led to the road above. Aaron stared after

her for a moment, realized what he had been meaning to ask, and ran after her.
    "Wait," he said, after he had caught up with her, "How did you get here?"
    "Generaly speaking, it's because I was born, more specificly, I walked."
    "No, I mean- well, the entrance is kinda hard to find, and hardly anyone even

thinks to come down this way at all."
    "You know the old boarded up house that was for sale up on the road? Well, it's no

longer on sale."
    "you mean you-" gasped Aaron, unbeliving. After all, who would want a house like

that?
    "yes," she interrupted. "As for finding the entrance, I personally found it quite

obvious."
Aaron frowned at this.
    "Anyway, I've got to go. Bye." she turned to walk up the street, where her new

house was. Aaron started. He had hardly taken notice of the walk up the trail. He slowly

began to walk home, enjoying the last bit of warmth before the sunset. As he reached his

back door, he felt the stab of annoyance at having to come home, but the feeling was lesser

now.
    His room was darker than he remembered it ever being. he flipped the long-forsaken

light switch, filling the room with a bright glow and glinting off a rock on his desk. He

stared at it a moment. It was the rock he had picked up earlier that day, a dull gray.

Definitely not anything that could reflect the light very well. He crossed the room and

picked up the small stone. Inside the hole in the center, a glossy layer of... something...

Had stretched across the empty space. He struggle to remember if it had been that way when

he found it, but no familiar feeling was in his memory.
    He placed the stone pack on the table, this time in a relatively cleared spot away

from his shells.
    We
    aaron spun around, looking wildly around the room. Had he been imagining it, or had

a voice just whispered in his ear? Seeing nothing, he started to feel confidant that it had

been in his mind.
    are
    This time he knew it wasn't his mind. Tentatively, he whispered, "Hello?"
    coming
    The voice was louder this time, soft and scratchy. Aaron suddenly had a crazy idea,

 which he chided himself for even thinking such nonsense. Yet, obeying the idea, he turned

back to his desk and picked up the stone. It had grown ice cold, frost playing around the

edges and numbing his fingers painfully. Instantly he knew the voice had come from inside,

warning... of what, though? He dropped it on his floor, unable to hold its freezing

surface. He clutched his stinging hand as the voice filled the room again, louder and more

powerful than ever.
    Prepare yourself. We come.