CHAPTER ONE: THE LOST THIRTEEN
In a town of Crowmoor where many people do not know exists there is a teenager named Nyra. She is an outcast of the town and does not like to blend into the citizens. There are only 1313 citizens left of the town.
Originally there were over 8,000 but then suddenly everyone started moving away quickly and some no one really knows what happened to them.
Nyra always knew she was the black sheep of the town just by the way she dresses. Everyone enjoyed walking around in colorful clothing, nice fixed hair dos and so much make up on them if they were to wreck, it would leave their whole face print on the windshield.
While she dresses in all black no matter the time or season she wears the bare minimum lipstick, eyeshadow, and mascara and that is all.
Nyra is always fantasizing about the oddest things. In her past time, she is reading about history that lies around the towns near her. One town she would love to visit is Blackmere. A place of clueless whispers that sounds like sirens calling. The whispers are so strong, they have talked a lot of the town's population into the bottom of the lake and it is warned that no one goes to it or around it or they will meet their fate. This sounds like a curse if you ask me.
Another thing she is fascinated about is death. She always wonders how people died and oftentimes spends her time wandering around graveyards checking out all of the graves except one. One that sits way off in the far corner. It looks like no one has even been there in years and it is always so dirty and grown up. It is never known why she never went there but she just did not. Maybe she never noticed it and just thought it was a tree or a vine holder.
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