The Fallen _ Prelude

Kaylea Abbott sighed, her mind engrossed by the upcoming tennis tournament against Southridge High. She was completely absorbed by her own thoughts when she heard the shouts from up ahead. She looked up to see a small group of boys standing in a small circle. On closer inspection she realized that there was another, much smaller, boy in the middle of the gang and the bigger boys were steadily kicking, punching, and shoving the little one.
Kaylea growled to herself and started forward. She raised her voice to a very loud degree, “Hey you kids. Leave him alone!”
As Kaylea sprinted forward, the group of boys scattered fearing the trouble they were in. Kaylea pulled up short as she reached the little boy who was laying, huddled up in fear, on the ground. She looked down to him and knelt, offering a small smile.
“It's okay now. I don't think they'll come back anytime soon.”
The little boy sat up slowly, looking at Kaylea with wide eyes. He already had several bruises and a large black eye blooming. He hesitantly took Kaylea's hand when she took it.
“Th-thank you.....” he managed to mutter.
Kaylea stood and gently pulled the boy to his feet. She realized that he could barely be older than five or six. She hitched her backpack a little higher on her shoulder and glanced around. The bullies seemed to have disappeared, but Kaylea wasn't so sure. She looked down to the child that she had rescued.
“How about I walk you home? My name is Kaylea.” She smiled.
The little boy nodded quickly, obviously terrified of his attackers coming back, “Okay.....I'm Matthew.....”
Kaylea nodded and offered her hand to Matthew, “Nice to meet you, Matthew. Now why don't we get you home before your parents get worried?”
Mathew nodded and took her hand, pulling on it gently, unknowingly leading her home. Matthew spoke softly as they walked, telling tales relevant to a child of his age. As they progressed he came more and more out of his shell. He became excited and smiled more. Before long he seemed to have completely forgotten about the attack. Kaylea smiled and laughed, listening closely to his stories and giving little input of her own. All to soon, Matthew pointed out a house. Kaylea led him to the door and knocked.
A frantic looking woman pulled the door wide open, “Matthew! Oh thank heavens! We were so worried! What happened to you?!”
The woman dropped to her knees and pulled the boy into a tight hug. Kaylea smiled, happy to see the loving scene. Matthew explained to his mother how he had been walking home when the group of older boys had attacked him, wanting his lunch money. He told of how Kaylea had rescued him. As he finished his story, his mother looked up to Kaylea and smiled thankfully.
The woman stood and dusted herself off. She looked at Kaylea for a moment, tears in her eyes. Then, suddenly, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the girl.
“Thank you so much for my son. Please, let me give you something in thanks.” she whispered.
Kaylea was stunned speechless for a few moments before regaining her voice, “No ma'am. It was no problem. I couldn't accept anything from you. Matthew Is a sweet kid. He didn't deserve to be harmed like that. No one does.”
Matthew's mother nodded slowly, “Well....feel free to stop by anytime you'd like. Our door is always open to you, dear. I am Stephanie Terry, by the way.”
Kaylea nodded, “Of course ma'am. But I have to be going. My own mother is expecting me home soon. It was nice to meet you. Both of you.”
Matthew ran forward and threw his arms around Kaylea, giving her a large hug. “Kaylea, come over tomorrow and play. Please?”
Mrs Terry smiled, “Yes, please do. We'd love to have you.”
Kaylea smiled and nodded, “Of course. I'll be here.”
Matthew looked up at her, “Promise?”
Kaylea smiled and winked, “I promise.”1

But Kaylea never showed up the next day, nor the day after that. They never received a call, never heard even a word from Kaylea until a week later when Mrs Terry sat down to the morning paper. A beautiful blonde girl's senior Portrait was blown up in the middle of the front page. Mrs Terry smiled, recognizing Kaylea.
“Look Matthew, your friend is in the paper.”
Matthew abandoned his cereal to run to his mother's side. He peered over her shoulder at the headline beside the picture. Exhausting all of his reading skills, he sounded out the t headline.
“Lo-cal....G-girl.... M-m-m-mur-de-der-red....Local....Girl...Murdered.....Mommy, what does murdered mean?”
Mrs Terry never answered her son. For at that moment her throat was closed up and tears were spilling down her face. Upon seeing this, Matthew started to cry as well.
Matthew soon learned that Kaylea Anthony had been murdered late that night on her way home from a party. Her killer was unknown and they had no leads. He was never to see his friend again.....