Following the E-mailer
by J. Provine
"Can I check his room?" Alex asked. Aunt Doris nodded, so he dashed up to it.
In the room, everything was a mess. The bed covers were strewn across the floor, blank papers sat on the desk scattered. It looked like he had hastily left.
I probably scared him... Alex thought. He looked through the room which turned up nothing. Only one place left to check....
The rental car fit uncomfortably. The seat was sticky on the side and the steering wheel was too close, but still, Alex drove on towards the castle's address. Outside, it had turned to night, and rain was starting to pour. Alex sipped at some of his coffee to calm himself as he turned onto a muddy road.
The rain fell in torrents. The once-dirt road turned to mush under the wheels as Alex tried to drive on. Near as he could figure, it was only another twenty kilometers to the castle.
Suddenly, he hit a very slick patch of sand and the car lost control. It skidded and then plunged into a ditch. Alex hung his head in despair, then sighed. He tried to move the car, but it was firmly stuck.
He leaned his seat back. He didn't like the idea of spending the night in the car. Plus, with all this rain, it'd probably flood. He searched the horizon for any signs of life. Over a kilometer, across a field, was a light. Through the wet windshield it looked like a house, but he couldn't make it out for sure.
Sighing loudly, he threw on his coat and his backpack and crawled out of the car. The rain soaked him immediately, and the mud was deep. Every footstep made him go ankle deep into it.
Emily O'Halley was enjoying her evening with her uncle and aunt. It was quiet around the farm cottage which had very few electrical appliances. Her Scottish cousin, Mary, was also a good part of the pleasantness.
Mary and Emily looked so alike, many thought they were twins. Emily, in fact, was a year older, but that didn't seem to change much. They both had fiery red hair and sharp green eyes. They refused to wear similar clothing ever since they were small, because it made them feel weird.
Suddenly, the door bell sounded.
"Who could that be?" Emily's aunt questioned nobody. Her uncle swiftly answered the door.
Standing there was a poor young man. He was soaked to the bone with rain and his legs were muddy up to the knees. Probably some crazy American backpacking across the country again.
"Oh the poor dear!" Emily's aunt said. She quickly took him inside and gave him a blanket to dry off with. Then she dashed into the bathroom to draw some water for a bath.
The young man sat down. He was shivering with cold, and the hair on his head was a mess.
"So, boy, what's your name?" Emily's uncle questioned.
"Um... Alex," he said.
The story continues from the perspective of: