Showing posts with label Could Make This Into A Novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Could Make This Into A Novel. Show all posts

August 16, 2015

Chapter One: School

Chapter One
I was running for my life, running so fast that the world blew by me in a blur.  There was a monster I was desperately trying to out run.  This monster had bested me before, but not today.  Today I was going to be the victor, no matter what.  I turned the corner at full speed and sprinted up the last few feet to my destination.  As I enter the building in front of me I can hear my shoes squeak on the tile floors. I see that the hallways are deserted except for a few stragglers, which is not a good sign.  I continue my desperate flight down the hall and I barely make it when the bell rings.  I stop and pant inside the door of my AP English class, it takes all my strength not to fall over.  Thank goodness my house is only a few blocks from school, or the monster that is tardiness would have won again.
“How nice of you to join us Kara.” Mrs. Phillips states, “We are all glad you made it, but now I need you to take your seat, class needs to begin.”
I trudge to my seat in the back of the class amid stares from my classmates.  I probably don’t look so hot, I don’t even remember if I brushed my hair before I ran out the door.  Just another day of the geeky high school student.  Getting looked at and judged at all times and in all places. 
“Did your alarm not go off again? I told you that you need to get a new one.” My best friend Angel sits beside me in the seats we picked so long ago at the beginning of the school year.
“I don’t need a new one, I just need to actually set my alarm every day.  Just because it’s old fashioned doesn’t automatically mean I need a new one.” I respond between gulps of air.  I need to get into better shape. “I like my wind up clock.  When it goes off there is no way I could ever sleep through it.”
“No, you just sleep in because it never goes off.” Angel off-handedly replies.  She isn’t paying much attention to me because she is in the middle of her morning beauty routine.  I take this as a good thing because if she saw my hair right now she would probably scream and then pass out.   
I start to actually listen to the teacher as she introduces a new book we are reading to the class.  She says it’s called Metamorphosis and is actually a short story disguised as a novel.  It’s a long story by the look of it but apparently it is about the human condition and all that, like every other novel you would study in high school English class.   As Mrs. Phillips talks I look around the classroom.  The jock corner is actually looking alive today, compared to their usual stance of sleeping through the first two classes of every day, there must be a game soon or they wouldn’t be sitting up in their chairs.  I glance towards the “popular” girls near the front of the class and notice them all texting one another.  They must have gotten yelled at one too many times for talking, or they wouldn’t have gone to such measures.  Everyone else that doesn’t exactly fit in a stereotypical roll is in a stage of being half awake.  Monday mornings are the hardest for everyone I guess. 
I am finally able to slow down my breathing by the time the first bell goes off. I start to gather my things when I hear a gasp coming from the front of the room.
“There is no way that’s possible.” Amy Andrews exclaims, “What could he be thinking asking her?” She is obviously continuing the conversation that was previously being held via cell phone. 
“I know right? He is obvi being delusional.” replies Stacy Green.
They glance towards the back of the room where I am standing and proceed to give me the death glare usually reserved for teachers and when some girl steals your boyfriend.  They must have noticed me eavesdropping on them.  I go back to focusing on cleaning up my desk, I don’t really want to know what they were talking about anyway. Angel however, is a completely different story. 
“I wonder what they could possibly be talking about.” She says with a sideward glance at me.  The way she says it makes me feel uneasy. As if she knows I am keeping a secret from her, except I have no idea what she thinks I’m hiding.  
“I really couldn’t care less.” I say, ignoring Angel’s attempt at baiting me.
“Uh-huh,” she says under her breath, I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Maybe it has something to do with Ty Browning, that’s who they are always freaking out about anyway.”
Ty Browning was pretty much the coolest, most attractive guy in school.  He was the typical king of high school.  He played an instrument, was the quarter back on the football team and was student body president.  A normal person wouldn’t have time for all of that, but Ty Browning was more than normal, he was perfect.  Every girl in the school had a crush on him at one point, most times it never went away. Unfortunately, I had also been caught in the web. 
“Since that is normally the crutch of their conversations and I can say that that is a fairly good bet.” I keep walking, ignoring Angel’s pointed stares in my direction.  We turn into our math class and find our seats. I’m hoping that whatever is on Angel’s mind will be blown away by the torture that is Trigonometry but my hopes are quickly crushed.
“Oh come on, you have to give me something! I’m your best friend!” She adds a slight whine to her voice because she knows I cannot stand whining.
“I really have no idea what you are talking about.” I say as I sit in the desk. I just want her to get it over with but if I ask her outright, she will shut down and get defensive.  She would probably say something like ‘Fine, if you won’t tell me your secret, I won’t tell you what is on my mind.’ Which would be completely ridiculous because then I really have no clue as to what she wants from me.  
“Yeah right, there’s no way you haven’t heard about it.”  I can tell she is getting obstinate, so for now my best course of action is to remain silent. I guess after ten years of being best friends with someone you know how to manipulate them really well.  Angel probably would have been in the popular crowd if it wasn’t for her friendship with me. I blink my eyes at her and wait patiently.  We are supposed to be doing a warm-up thing, but I can talk and do it at the same time because it is ridiculously easy. 
“The rumor…?” still trying to bait me. I blink more at her. “About Ty…and prom… come on!” she exasperates, looking exhausted at my ignorance, “There is a rumor going around that Ty is going to ask YOU to the prom.” 
Most of the time I feel like I am too mature to still be a high school student.  I don’t do what normal teenagers do.  I actually listen to the teacher while they are talking, I do my homework, go to bed before 10:00 p.m., stay home on the weekend and not go to some ridiculous party, half the time I talk in bigger words because of all the old English books I read.  But as soon as Angel told me about that rumor, I became an average teenage girl.  The butterflies started in the bottom of my stomach and I blushed uncontrollably. 
“There’s no way.” I say under my breath, I am too stunned to respond in proper English, “Shut up, there is no freaking way that is possible. Why would he want to ask me when he can have any pick of the girls in the school?” I subconsciously started to whisper, as if we really were talking about some secret, and not just an improbable rumor.
“He likes you, duh.  Haven’t you noticed?” I shake my head, still bewildered that I was the topic of such a juicy rumor. “You really are oblivious sometimes.   Whenever you two are in the same room he glances in your direction.  It’s the worst in orchestra because every time he tries to steal a glance he messes up, you think the first chair would be better at focusing.  He has turned down six offers of a date in two weeks!  Everything is pointing to him asking you to the prom.” Angel’s face is a mixture of frustration at my being incapable of keeping up on the gossip pool like her, and admiration for apparently gaining the favor of the cutest boy in school. 
Mr. Anders calls the class’s attention and Angel is forced to turn away from me.  I sit in stunned silence.  Can it be possible?  Can the hot shot of our school really be interested in a geek like me?  How on Earth did that happen? My head swims in a chaos of these types of questions and math mixed in there as I frantically try to focus on math. 
The rest of the school day goes by in a blur.  My mind turns into that of a goldfish, only having three minutes of memory before everything goes back to Angel’s voice telling me that Ty Browning likes me.  Next thing I know I am walking down the road with Angel as we head home.  She lives a few blocks farther from school than I do, so we always walk home together. 
“It was really weird that I didn’t see John today.” She mumbles as she plays with the strings on her backpack.  John is my best friend since before we were born.  His mom and mine were college roommates and made sure to stay near each other.  He is also Angel’s boyfriend for about a month now.  Nothing is more awkward than your two best friends making goo-goo eyes at each other over the lunch table.
“Maybe he was just not feeling well.” I say, starting to come back to reality.
“He should have texted me then.” She states as she pulls out her phone, “It’s really weird that he hasn’t even tried to talk to me today.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” I console her, “He may have just been sleeping all day.”
“I hope you’re right.  Hey! Do you want to go see him later?” She asks, perking up, “We haven’t had a good game night together for a while and it would probably cheer him up if he is sick.”
“I would, but I can’t.  My brother and his family are coming for a visit tonight and I really need to practice for my recital.” I reply.
“No normal sixteen year old plays the harp.” She sighs. She has been trying to convince me to quit since I started, but I am too stubborn for her ways.
“Good thing I’m not normal then.” I say turning off the sidewalk to face my house.  The walk is a lot shorter when you spent half of it daydreaming. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay? Say hi to John for me.”
“See ya.” She grumps, she most have really missed John today.
I walk up to my front door and brace for the blinding light.  Whoever thought doors should be white never thought about afternoon sunlight.  As I walk through the doorway, I get attacked what looked like a blur of gold. I fall to the ground and feel my face start to be wet.
“Rocky, get off of me boy.” My golden retriever steps on my stomach to get over me as I wipe his slobber off my face. “What are you doing Rocky?” I ask.  He softly barks and me and then runs for the back door. I must have forgotten to put him outside when I left this morning.  Curse you tardiness, you have to ruin my dog’s life too.
“Sorry buddy.” I say as I follow the bouncing fur ball to the back of the house.  When I open the door he takes off like a NASCAR racer towards his “special spot”.  I leave the screen door cracked open a bit so he can come back in when he wants.  He knows how to open it more if he needs to.
I bound up the stairs towards my room, ready for some serious practicing time.  When I practice music, the world disappears around me and I really don’t notice time passing.  It is one of the best parts of my day.  If I haven’t said it already, I’m a huge geek.
“Wow, you’re starting to sound good Care Bear.” My dad says as he opens my bedroom door a crack.  His bald head is slightly red from working in the fields today, and I can tell he hasn’t showered yet because there is dirt all over his hands.  My dad works on a farm in Jefferson County, which isn’t too far away, but he still has to commute. “You’re gonna do great at that concert.”
“It’s a recital dad.”
“Concert, recital, same thing really.  Hey, can you do me a favor?” He pleading asks.
“Um, that really depends on what it is.” I reply.  With him you can never know what he is going to ask you, it can range from hold out your hand to re-shingle the roof.
“Calm down, I just need you to get out the food for tonight’s dinner. I already have the grill warming up, I just need the steaks taken out there while I clean up a bit.” He says.
“I am cleaner than you are at the moment.” I say as I stand up and put my sheet music away.
“Thank you.” He says turning away from me and walking towards the bathroom.
I head downstairs and start getting dinner together when my mom walks in through the garage door. My mom is an accountant at an important firm, or so my dad says, and she is really what has kept this family afloat.  Don’t get me wrong, I love farmers and farming, but it is really undervalued in today’s society. 
“Hey sweetheart, how was your day?” It really is a mom’s job to make meaningful conversation with her children at all times.
“Fine, yours?” I haven’t looked at her, but I can feel her plant a kiss on the back of my head. 
“Long.” She sighs, “I can’t wait for Peter to bring me my grandkids.”  I’m the youngest of four and the only one that still needs to live at home.  Peter is the oldest and the only thing we really share is a love for his kids.  He has some really cute kids. 
I help my dad get dinner ready as my mom tidies the already spotless house until Peter comes.  Then the night is filled with laughter and steak.  The best of combinations really.  We sit around the table talking as my nieces and nephew play with toys in the living room. Mom and Peter are discussing finance and my sister-in-law and father are pretending they know what they are talking about. I sit in silence.  Honestly, the kids are having more fun than me at this point, but it would be rude to get up without a reason.  Then my salvation rings the doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” I quickly say, pushing away from the table. 
I open the door expecting to see a late salesman, but instead find Angel.  Her face is red and puffy and she won’t look me in the eye.  I can tell she has been crying, so my overprotective friend mode kicks in.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving in to put my arm around her shoulders and drag her into the entryway.
“He’s gone.” She sobs.  It is really hard to get good information out of emotional teenagers.
“Who’s gone?” I ask. I hope John didn’t break up with her because then I would have to break his legs.  I have it in writing and everything.
“John!” She wails, “I went to his house to see him and his parents said he didn’t come home last night.  They haven’t seen him all day. When I told them he wasn’t at school they called the police and I had to give a statement.  He’s been kidnapped or something!” Her wails are getting louder, and my mom came into view.
“Why don’t we move down to the family room.” She says and walks over to put her arm around me.  It’s then that I realize I have frozen.

My best friend is missing.  The cops are looking for him.  What am I going to do?

May 3, 2015

The Academy's Test

“I couldn’t imagine not remembering anything.” –The Red Pyramid, Rick Riordan 

Fourth day of the Sixth month in the year 1385

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I had finally done it.  All my years of hard work were paying off.  I was going to graduate as a full-fledged sorcerer.  I had made it through the academy and was on my way to being one of the greatest sorcerer’s of all time.  There was only one little thing in my way.  My trial.

When a wizard graduates they go through one final test, a test that will push you to your limits and make sure you are worthy of the respected title of Sorcerer for the State.  Basically, you are supposed to be able to use your years of knowledge and learning into proving without a doubt that you know what you’re doing.
 
My test is next week on my 20th birthday.  All I know about it is that it is different for everyone, and you won’t know what it is until it happens.  I have heard rumors though. Of course there is the usual, you have to face your worst fears and defeat them, or you are in a magical scenario that shows you a magical creature attacking your home and you have to defeat it.  They also say that half of the students that go through it die.  I’m trying not to think about it. 

What I am trying to do is prepare in any way I can.  My   nights are filled with words dancing across a page as I desperately try to remember all the spells contained within my books.  And when I do sleep, I dream of monsters attacking those that I love.  It’s not a very conducive environment for the calm that is needed for proper studying. 

When I ask the teachers what I should expect, they avoid me.  “No amount of studying will help you, Gillian.  The trial does not test your book knowledge, it tests your ability to think quickly.  Just get rest and know you will be at your absolute limit.”  Helpful, right?  But I think they are right, at this point more studying will only hurt me. 

To help me calm down, I go to my best friend’s home.  Thalias lives outside the academy’s gate with his family.  His father works as a gardener for the school’s grounds so Thalias and I grew up together.  My favorite place in the world is their home.  It is warm, and comfortable, and happy.  The perfect place for me to prepare for the hardest thing in my life. 

I have been at the academy since I was seven years old, they took me in when the orphanage couldn’t handle my magical outbursts.  My parents died when I was really little, and the teachers here think that my magical abilities became apparent early because of the trauma.   Orphanages don’t really like it when you start levitating the other children.  When I first came they were at a loss of why I showed signs of magical ability so young.  Most children don’t start showing it until they are about 10 years old, and even then it is small talent like a few sparks of the fingers or making a toy dance. Definitely not making eight children hover above the floor.  My teachers thought that my subconscious must remember what happened to my parents and that’s why it manifested early.  The truth is, I don’t remember it subconsciously, but consciously.  I know exactly what happened and it has helped me grow strong.  That night is what gives me the reason to want to protect people with my abilities. 

When I was three my mother and I went to the market to buy food for the week.  My father was from a wealthy family, and we lived in comfort.  I never realized anything that happened, I just knew that if I didn’t get what I want I would throw a fit.  As my mother and I were walking home my father surprised us and met us just outside the market.  I was happy, I loved my father the most.  He was so strong in my eyes.  We walked home, my parents were holding my hands and my father carried my mother’s basket.  The sun was setting over the Western mountains is a beautiful display of color.  Two men walked towards us on the road and my mother grabbed my hand more tightly.  They had swords, which is not an uncommon thing, I kept looking at the sunset, and then my father stepped in front of me.  The men talked to him, telling him that if he did not give them all of their wealth, they would murder him.  My father refused.  I still remember how the sword looked in my father’s back.  My mother picked me up and tried to run, but she soon fell to their swords as well, I was underneath her and couldn’t move, they must have thought me dead.  I couldn’t see much, but I felt them moving my mother, probably searching her for valuables, and then they left.  All I could do as I lay there was think that there should have been something I could have done.  I didn’t cry and I didn’t talk when they found me.  I didn’t talk for two years in the orphanage. 

By the time I was six I was comfortable in the orphanage and I had started to understand what really happened that day.  Those men killed my parents because we were wealthy and they were greedy.  I then decided that I was going to grow up to make sure I could protect people from ever having to go through what I did.  And that’s what I did. 

I found my talents and through the academy I have grown to be a sort of prodigy there.  I don’t think of myself as a prodigy, just someone who had more time to practice.  This alone gives me the help I need to pass the trial.

Eighth day of the Sixth month year 1385

Thalias’ mother, Angelina, makes us breakfast, she is the best cook in the whole world.  I am going to get fat staying here, which probably won’t actually help me in my trial.  Thalias and I are doing what we normally do, hitting each other in between stuffing our mouths full.  That’s when there is a knock on the door.  Angelina goes to the door, looking at us over her shoulder and tries to tell us to stop slugging each other.  When she opens the door she bows, a guard stands in the doorway wearing the crest of the academy.  He hands her a note, then walks away.  She walks toward me with a smile on her face, I can tell she is proud. This is why I love this house, because I can feel what it’s like to have a mother’s love. 

I open the letter and it reads. 

Gillian,
For the ceremony of your graduating trial, be at the main foyer of the citadel on the Eleventh at dawn.  Bring nothing. 

Waste of a good envelope if you ask me.  But there is one thing it did do. Make me so nervous I felt sick.  The rest of the day I spent lying on the floor in the room I was sharing with Thalias, curled in a fetal position.
 
Tenth day of the Sixth month year 1385

My feet get worn out from pacing.  In my head is swirling all of the rumors I have heard over my years at the academy.  They are so loud that I can’t hear Thalias saying my name.

“If you talk about it, you’ll feel better.  Tell me what you are most worried about.”  He looks at me with worry in his eyes.  I have always been good at reading people. 

“It’s not that I’m worried about something in particular, just terrified about not knowing what is going to happen.” I reply, never ceasing in my pacing.

“What could be the worst thing you can imagine?”

“I don’t know…” he finally got me to stop moving, “I guess, I am worried about failing.  Like what if I am not good enough and I go back to being nothing, and losing my dream forever?  Nothing could be worse than that.”

Thalias scoffs, “Well that’s easy to fix then.  You won’t fail.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you,” he looks determined now, “and there is no way you can fail.  You are the greatest sorcerer to ever come out of that place and you will be one of the greatest of all time.” 

I stare at him.  “How did I get so lucky to have a friend that believes in me as strongly as you do?”

“That I can’t tell you, sure is a mystery.” I can tell he is proud at my question. “Now get some sleep, or I will start throwing things at you because I need sleep.”

He rolls over on his bed and blows out the candle, our only source of light.  I lay on the mattress his mother put on the floor for me and stare up at the ceiling.  Sleep never comes to me.
 
Eleventh day of the Sixth month year 1385

I stand outside the gate bouncing on my heels.  Whether from nerves or excitement I don’t know.  When the gates open the headmaster is there to take me to the ceremonial chamber.  We walk in complete silence, I don’t dare ask him any questions.  Especially since the last time I talked with the headmaster I was pleading my case for letting loose wild foxes in the girl’s dormitory.  He leads me to a part of the complex that I have never been in before. I holds the teacher’s rooms and none of us have dared go there.  We go to a small building made of black rock.  The door is ornate and depicts a magician of some kind underneath a huge tree.    I don’t look at it long because the door opened upon our approach.  As we enter we are surrounded by blackness.  A heavy cloak is placed on my shoulders and I am led by the hand forward.

When we stop I am asked to kneel down.  The floor is cold stone and I am trembling.  Then a man starts to speak, the blackness remains.

“We are here today to witness the graduation ceremony of young Gillian Westfall.  Let the ceremony commence.”

All of a sudden the room is filled with light.  I am in a large amphitheater and all of my teachers are sitting on benches above me.  They wear black cloaks and hold somber expressions.  I do not recognize the man at the center, he must be a visiting sorcerer that graduated before me.  He stands in front of the headmaster who is sitting in a large chair. 

“Gillian,” the man proclaims, “Are you prepared for the test?”

I want to answer that no I am not, no one has even told me what I am supposed to be doing, but luckily my brain saved me and I said, “I am.”

“Very good.  Your test is yours, and yours alone.  A spell will be placed upon you so that you will experience something inside your head.  Nothing will be of danger to you, but the events will seem very real.  Bring forth the potion.”

A man in a dark blue cloak walks up to me and all I can think about is why they are using such formal language. Just another sign that I really was losing it.  The man hands me a flask and motions for me to drink.  The metal is warm as it touches my lips and the liquid inside tastes just like Angelina’s cinnamon rolls.   

Then I am standing on a road.  The road is like any road in the kingdom, dirt, worn down from wagon wheels, and surrounded by mountains.  There is no one around me.  I start to walk because I feel like standing there is not a good idea and I run into a young woman on the side of the road.  She is selling jewelry, but none of her charms compares to the beauty that shine from her.  She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I move towards her without even realizing I urged my feet forward.  She smiles at me but says nothing.

I look at her wares. They are simple enough, nothing that a noble would buy but something that would be seen as very valuable to a poorer individual.  I glance up at the woman and ask her how much she is selling the necklaces for.  She smiles again.

“That depends on what you are not willing to part with.”  Her voice is rough, not the sweet voice I was expecting.  She lifts her hand to my face with one finger pointed at my forehead and a burst of light shatters my vision.

Then I am at my home town.  It looks that same as I remember it, and again I am grateful for what I can remember.  I stand outside the west gate, near the place where my parents were murdered.  I look around but there is no one there, even the city seems dead, which is odd considering it is the middle of the day. 

“I wonder what this place holds for you.” The woman’s rough voice says from behind me.  I turn quickly and she is standing there, but this time she looks like an old crone. Her voice is much more fitting. 

“Who are you?” I demand.  I start to gather magical energy to my hand and start thinking of a defense spell.

“No one of consequence.  Tell me what happened at this place.”  She walks up to me to look straight into my eyes.

“My parents were murdered here when I was three.” I tell her.  I don’t know why I said it, this woman is a stranger who has probably placed a spell on me, but something in her eyes compels me to answer truthfully.

“Such a sad event, yet I feel power from this place.  What do you remember of that day?” Usually when someone asks me that question, I play off being sad and simply say that I was three at the time, but now I know that magic is at work because I cannot take my eyes off of her. 

“Everything.”

She smiles. “Such a sad experience. It must be very painful.”

My voice catches, “Of course.”

“You must want revenge on the people who murdered them.”

“I have never sought revenge.” I say immediately, “I only want to be able to help people so what happened to me won’t happen to others.  I wish to bring peace.” There are power in my words, it feels very similar to when I am conjuring magic.

The old crone smiles again, this time showing me brilliant white teeth.  “If you would like, I could take the pain away.”

“I don’t want to forget. That day gives me purpose and it has made me who I am.”

“You are wise beyond your years.”

Then the world went dark.

. . .

When I woke up I was lying on the ground.  My knee was bent at an awkward angle and by back was cold from the stone.  The light had dimmed in the room but was not out completely.  There was silence. 

Since I probably looked like a fool, I tried to hurriedly stand up.  Someone caught me as I fell over and helped me balance on my feet once more.  I was dizzy and the world seemed a little blurry.

“Gillian Westfall, how do you feel?” At least their priorities were on my health at the moment.

“Dizzy, and nauseous.” I mumble. My tongue seems heavy and I can’t move it. 

“Take him to the infirmary so he can rest.”

I am then lead away.  This walk goes by in a blur and the next thing I know I am waking up and the teacher that I was in most classes with.  She was a glutton for punishment it seems. 

“Gillian are you awake?”

“Yes, I think so.” I was still in a daze, but not as much as coming out of the ceremony.

“I have news.” My heart skipped a beat.  This was the moment my fate was decided. 

“You passed.”