Chatterbox: Inkwell

NOVEL THREAD!!

OK, I'm gonna try this for like, the FOUTH TIME, and MAYBE it'll work. I'm starting my novel thread, and I have no idea which of my 3 stories to choose. you may vote. deadline for voting is Halloween. here's a lead from each:

(title undecided) 

Chapter one: Potion Master

One night, a night of no stars. A sleepless night for me, Noel. I stare out the frosted window at the shadows and nightmares outside, wondering if the Fear Fires draw near with their poison and illnesses. I wonder if we have enough essence of illusion, the base of all potions and poisons. Potions aren’t like the people think. Potions are illusions. They think that witches make potions. Believe me, witches aren’t the potion type. That’s us, the potion makers. That witch, Fralyndia, the one who started the whole ‘witches make potions’ thing, she was the exception, not the rule. She was different. That’s what makes you famous, right? Her mother was a witch, and her father was a potion maker. Hybrids. Potions aren’t “...newt’s eye and a drop of dragon blood…”. They’re “...essence of fear and a bit of dragon thought…” yes, we use the thoughts and dreams, not the blood. We like animals here.

Anyway, back to the sleepless night.

The Secret Life of Mahlia Dyst

Just like everyone else. This was the cry silently rallied by my people, the Hulya. We had branches in the government, the top being the Teilo. I was part of the Keir, the people. The perfect, identical people. I never felt like one of the Keir, I was different. Even after I turned four, still, I was not the same. I went to live alone at thirteen. Still not the same. My name is Joy. Joy Unpol. But I have another name, a name given to me by my mother, my mother who I should have forgotten. My name is Mahlia Dyst.

I feel terrible when I look around me, out my blurred plastic window. I see it every day. Small children, four years old. They all have blindfolds, and they bounce excitedly, because they all believe they’re just about to see the most wonderful birthday surprise of their life. If I could relive that moment with my knowledge from many years after, I would scream and kick and fight back. Because not only are they not getting a birthday surprise, they’re about to forget everything. They won’t remember who they are, what they’ve done, the wonderful birthday waiting for them in the Radar. They’re about to be brainwashed.

Unstoppable:

The pain, the pain. Crushing and pushing, breaking and cracking. Killing. I’m falling, falling, teetering on the very edge of death, dying. The feeling is unbearable, but I’m too weak to cry out to save my very own life. Life. Life. I wonder what it would feel like to live again, to be alive. This time I’d make the best of it, wouldn’t take it for granted. If only I were alive. Can’t feel, can’t move, can’t be. Alive. I’m alive. My eyes open, slowly, grudgingly. My vision is blurry, tinted red. The dark above me shines with my own blood, dark and menacing. Suddenly, heat burns my skin, in addition to the crushing agony that I feel already. An amber light fills my spot, making my squint. I roll over onto my stomach and start pulling myself along the steaming, dusty ground. My strength is withering, starting to slowly fade. Suddenly I realize I’m gasping for breath. Smoke fills my lungs, making me gag and cough. I make one final effort, and inch out from under the flaming spaceship, gasping. I crawl away, as far as I can, then lay down flat on my back. I have just enough energy to lift my spinning head to see the spaceship explode before I black out.

just a quick note: Unstoppable is the sequal to The Secret Life of Mahlia Dyst.