Chapter 4 - Introducing Zak

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ZAK'S POV


Zak opened one of his bright blue eyes sleepily, not completely sure whether he was still dreaming or not, and glanced at his window. It was a difficult thing to do when the whole room was black and he was only half-conscious.


Nevertheless, he managed to do it and blinked slowly as he saw a whip of black hair, long like a dark cape, leave his room and disappear out of his window into the night.  Confused, he jumped out of bed and ran towards the window, stubbing his toe on the end of his bed with his haste, causing him to groan in frustration.


He swore under his breath before blinking with wide eyes and rubbing them roughly with his fingers to clear them. He dodged the football which lay still on the floor and it rolled to the other side of his room, bumping into his wardrobe. From the clanging noise coming from behind the door, he assumed that something had just fallen from it's hanger and was now lying at the bottom of it in a messy heap. It probably added to the rest of the clothes that he'd thrown in there this afternoon and he promised himself that he'd tidy it later on.


He'd probably completely forget about it in the morning.


When he looked out of his window, rubbing his foot as he hopped from side to side, he was disappointed when he saw nothing. All he could see was the leaves rustling down the road and a strong breeze whacking him in the face as he stuck his head further out of the room to get a better look.


He was almost positive that something had been in his room. He wasn't usually awakened by nothing so the fact that he was stood near his window rubbing his foot as the pain began to lessen made him think that he'd just missed something important. However, he couldn't seem to think straight in order to figure out what could have possibly disturbed him as he still felt a little dreamy and slightly disorientated. He rubbed his forehead and groaned with tiredness.


Maybe he was just seeing things. It wouldn't be the first time, that was for sure.

           

Standing by his window just made him feel grateful for the fact that he was inside on such a cold night. Mist travelled down the streets in large waves and he frowned as he followed it with his eyes, quite perplexed as to how mist was able to act in such a fashion.


It took him a moment to realise that his room was just as cold as his the air that was coming through his window. That was probably what had woken him up. Being the height that he was, his feet usually got cold due to the draft from the window and he knew he couldn't sleep with cold feet. He would have to mention to his mum and dad about getting a new bed. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep properly with half of his feet sticking out of the end.


However, usually his sleep wasn't that disturbed. He was sure he'd closed that stupid window before he'd gone to sleep. He couldn't fall asleep without the window and the door being shut tight. The draft was partly the reason for this. Maybe the wind had pushed it open this time; it was quite windy outside and it could have easily pushed the window open slightly if caught in the right moment. It didn't matter that it had never happened before.


What confused him the most was the dream he had been having just seconds beforehand. He'd dreamt that something cold had touched his face. It wasn't even part of the dream he had been having, which confused him further. It was as if his thoughts had been muddled just before he'd woken up.

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