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NANOWRIMO NOVEL THREAD
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NANOWRIMO NOVEL THREAD
NANOWRIMO NOVEL THREAD
Gah!! A publisher has agreed to publish me if I'm done by November 30!!!
Anyway, here's TWO DAYS OF TYPING:
August 9, 2002
TEA Headquarters
Leopold Dietrich swept around the bend of the hallway,
his stethoscope glinting in the cold light. Assorted underlings cast their eyes
down, not wishing to meet the cold, hard glare of those stone grey eyes.
Aveleen O’Rourke sat calmly in the cold hospital room,
reading the books her mother had brought her yesterday. Voyage of the Dawn
Treader, it was called. She smiled as Leopold swept into the room. He didn’t
like that. No one else dared to meet his eyes, let alone smile. He scowled and
furrowed his brow.
“Will my mom and dad come today?” she asked sweetly.
Leopold scowled deeper, trying not to look uncomfortable
under the gaze of the greenish-turquoise eyes. “No.” he said, in a tone that
clearly said, ‘Shut up and whimper.’
Little Aveleen just smiled and swung her small legs.
Leopold tried not to slap her upside the head. He gritted
his spotless teeth and snapped.
“It appears the- erm- experimental drug worked. You will
be…” he bit his tongue, “Released.”
He barely withheld the urge to throttle her gleeful grin.
“Thanks Mr. Leopold!” she said and ran out of the room.
Leopold overturned the table. Ever since the girl’s
powers had gone dormant, Project ECHO had gone downhill. His assistant, a
gabbling man who was barely competent while dusting a shelf, let alone fifteen
files, stumbled and sent the papers sprawling.
Leopold glared and picked up the papers. These were made
on the day, in 1998, when TEA told Deidre O’Rourke and Patrick O’Rourke that
their infant daughter had a fatal disease. Then they said they had an
experimental drug. Then they took the baby, allowing her parents to visit
often, and tested her with tectonium, their new chemical. She had exhibited
powers, but none anymore. The powers were dormant.
After barking at his assistant to clean up the mess, he
strode down the hall to make sure the employees weren’t slacking off.
August 9, 2014
Forest
Aveleen walked through the forest, the sultry summer sky
shimmering in the midsummer heat. A light wind tousled her hair, promising a
windy autumn. She shouldered her backpack and sat in the glen, slowly laying
down to rest.
Suddenly another girl crashed through the brush, looking
different yet similar to Aveleen. The girl’s face looked normal, like any
average American girl. But her braid, which looked like it had once been neatly
tucked back, was now hanging off to the side, unkempt. It was dark blue, almost
black, and deep purple on the tips. The girl’s wide violet eyes looked scared,
like she had seen a ghost.
Aveleen stood up, drawing her little dagger. Realizing
how hostile she looked, she sheathed the dagger and opened her mouth to speak.
The odd girl interrupted her.
“Who are you and where am I?” the girl snapped.
“In my forest, in Everinne.” Aveleen said, confused.
The girl stopped to breathe, glaring at Aveleen as though
Aveleen had done something wrong. Aveleen grew increasingly uncomfortable as
the girl stared at her in intense concentration. The girl seemed surprised
after nothing happened.
“Look, you didn’t hear anything, see anything, or talk to
me. Got it?” Mystery Girl snapped, scowling.
Aveleen hesitated. “Got it, but….”
The girl turned around, still scowling.
“What?”
“What’s your name?”
The girl hesitated. “Lily.”
Aveleen stared after her as the girl ran deeper into the
forest. Then Aveleen shrugged, crunched a cookie, grabbed her water bottle, and
slung her pack on her shoulder.
“I’m going back to the house,” sighed Aveleen, deciding
there was no point in asking questions.
Aveleen walked through the front door to find no one
home. A quick note was taped on the refrigerator in her mother’s loopy
handwriting.
Aveleen-
Gone to town
for an important business meeting. Your
father is in a meeting at the BHR corporation with their president Theo
Windlow. Eat some lunch! We have leftover food from the hibachi grill.
Oh, and I heard
you dropped a book in the forest yesterday. I believe I saw it in the south
corner.
Your Loving
Mother,
Deidre
Aveleen
read the note and grabbed her pack again. That book was a library book. The
last thing she needed was another one overdue.
She grabbed a piece of bread, hardly stopping to eat as
she raced toward the southern edge of the forest. A flock of crows scattered as
she ran by, staring at her shiny, fragile necklace.
So……..shiny.
The crows watched fascinated as Aveleen rooted around in
the old leaves. the necklace was loosely tied, but none of them dared attack.
The crows looked at each other, as if to dare each other. None of them were
willing. All except one.
Aveleen felt a rustle of wings as a small bird snatched
her necklace and flew into the old apple tree. The apple tree was old, possibly
dead, and produced no apples, but it remained an excellent climbing tree. She
gasped in outrage and looked at the old tree. The crow was on a high branch,
having placed the necklace on a bough. The crow looked at her almost
apologetically, which was odd for a crow. Aveleen grasped a branch and pulled
herself up a few feet. The crows flew off. Except, of course, the strangely
apologetic one.
Aveleen kept climbing, annoyed with the crow for taking
her necklace and putting it on the highest branch. And it was just standing
there! It should be ashamed. She
thought bitterly.
Her pant knee tore
and was scraped quite badly. Her blood dribbled down the side of the tree. She
didn’t care a whit. She had to get that necklace back at all costs.
The sky went grey, heralding a thunderstorm. She groaned
and kept pulling herself towards the crow, her main desire to wring its scrawny
neck. It looked at her, a little afraid.
“Be afraid, you little vermin,” she smirked at the crow,
wishing she could throw a twig at it. But it had really started to rain now;
the bark was getting slicker. The crow hopped aside as her hand closed around
the necklace. Aveleen let out a whoop of triumph.
But then she began to slip.
With a loud crack, the branch she was sitting on snapped.
The bough wheeled down into the puddle under the tree as Aveleen dropped the
necklace.
It miraculously caught on a little twig, but the twig was
slowly breaking. The little glass feather twinkled in the waning light, as if
saying goodbye. Aveleen wouldn’t let it break. It was her only memory of her
brother. She used her power.
It stopped, levitating a fraction of an inch above the
ground. Aveleen almost cried with relief as she levitated it towards her. She
made it clasp around her neck. The sky began to light up with lightning as a
bolt streaked towards her. Aveleen didn’t scream.
She didn’t cry for help.
She just closed her eyes as
the tree exploded.
submitted by Brookeira
(November 2, 2014 - 6:33 pm)
(November 2, 2014 - 6:33 pm)
I love it! Cool how you sneaked the names of CBers into the story. (1844 words for me so far).
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MicrosoftInternetExplorer4
(November 2, 2014 - 9:14 pm)
Whoa, that's weird. Don't know why my comment showd up like that.
I don't either, J.B.E. That code doesn't show in my posting box. It may be because you coped and pasted from someplace and brought the code along with your words.
Admin
(November 2, 2014 - 9:33 pm)
(November 3, 2014 - 11:30 am)
This is great. I love it. It's awesome. :D Keep up the awesome work, Brooke! :D
(November 3, 2014 - 1:57 pm)
Noelle! Haven't seen you on here for a while.
(November 4, 2014 - 10:23 am)
1,790 as of today. Will post more novel this eve.
(Oh, and watch for the names Noelle, Winter Firefly, and more!)
(November 3, 2014 - 5:10 pm)
This is so awesome, Brooke! Keep up the good work!
Love how you snuck the names of CBers into the story. Gave me a good laugh :D
(November 3, 2014 - 11:31 pm)
What publisher? How did you find them? They said they'd publish you without even reading th enoel? Are they giving you time to reise? I don't know about you, but it seems fishy to me.
(November 4, 2014 - 6:42 am)
@S.E.:
Agreed.
Request to Brookeira--
If this book is actually going to be published, can you please take out the name Everinne? I'm insanely flattered that you'd want to use it, but if possible, I'd like to use it for my own story.
(November 4, 2014 - 5:36 pm)
@ SE Um... well, the publisher is my best friend's dad..... (NOT SURE WHICH PUBLISHER) but she said she might be able to get him to AFTER I'm done.
@Everinne Sure thing!
(November 4, 2014 - 9:44 pm)
I'm up to 4k words!
(November 4, 2014 - 10:13 pm)
1,959 words. I'm going to be typing about THREE THOUSAND WORDS A DAY on Thanksgiving break, though.
(November 5, 2014 - 1:57 pm)
At 3,082!!!
Aveleen woke up as the cool
dawn light began filtering through the treetops.
She sat bolt upright, gasping
for breath and falling back down again. Pain shot through her back like fire,
making it impossible to move or cry out. She lay on the ground and panted,
trying not to cry.
After what felt like a year,
she sat up. Wiping ashes off her face, she looked at the tree. It hadn’t
actually exploded; the top had cracked off and the tree was charred. Debris was
scattered across the ground like snow, a fine layer coating everything around
her. She stood up, ignoring the vicious pain, and fingered her necklace. At
least it was safe.
Her parents weren’t home. The
business meeting had been overnight for her mom and her dad must have stopped
at a hotel. She could see from the clearing she stood in that there were no
cars in the driveway. She began limping home, wincing with every step and
trying not to pass out. The house was only twenty yards away. She limped faster
and collapsed, pulling herself toward the haven. All she needed was her bed.
She needed to sleep. She started to cry, knowing she didn’t have enough
strength to make it.
One
step, one step, might as well be a mile, she
thought as her strength ebbed like the tide.
I
hope someone finds me.
A girl walked out of the
woods. Her hair was brown with blonde streaks, tied in a side ponytail. Her
skin was pinkish and she had some freckles on her face. That was the last
Aveleen saw before she passed out.
Aveleen woke up in her
bedroom.
Some of the ashes had been
wiped off, though her bed was still soiled. A bandage was wrapped around her
scarred leg. Her mother must have found her. She sat up slowly, ignoring the
sparks of pain. She winced and walked downstairs.
Her mother’s car was not in
the driveway. A simple breakfast of bacon was on the table; it tasted heavenly.
Aveleen washed her mouth and drank three glasses of orange juice, barely
stopping to breathe as her throat slowly became wet again. After eating her
fill, she began to wonder who had come. Then she noticed a trail of black, ashy
footprints too small to be her mother or father. She followed them around the
house, to the curb where they mysteriously vanished near the mailbox. She
naturally opened the mailbox to get the mail, finding a political ad, three
holiday ads, the newspaper, and an overdue library notice (to Aveleen’s
chagrin).
Aveleen threw away the ads and
opened the paper to the classifieds. A strange lump disturbed the surface of
the paper, and after a moment she shook the paper and a note fell out.
I took you too tu to yore your
room. I did not no know what elss else to do so I bandujed bandigged
put cloth on your wounds and wiped off the ashuss ashes.
-FB
Aveleen shook her head and
walked back to the house, slipping the strange note into her pocket and
wondering who FB was. Was it a boy or a girl? Probably a girl; she remembered
the figure she had seen approaching that morning. Young or old? Probably young or
just illiterate, because of the errors in the mysterious letter. She was
probably illiterate, not young. She had to be able to carry Aveleen inside. Aveleen
might have been short for sixteen, but a young girl still couldn’t carry her.
For
now, thought Aveleen, I’ll
call her Faith Brown. I doubt she’d be named Frederica, it isn’t as popular.
Neither is Fiona. But what if her last name is Bailey? Or Baker?
Aveleen’s head swam and she
sat down, trying not to feel giddy. She held her forehead as it swam. She
groaned and staggered to the medicine cabinet, using her power to open it in
her desperation. She grabbed the Forrest tablets, the strongest headache pills
her family owned and swallowed one, using her power (telekinesis, if you want
to be formal) to levitate herself to the couch as she groaned.
The aforementioned apologetic
crow watched from the window, staring at Aveleen sadly. So young. His age, but
so much more innocent. She had never felt the sting of abuse, the pain of
someone misusing you as a servant.
Servant?
More along the lines of slave.
He slowly turned his back,
shook his feathered head, and flew back to the T.E.A.
Chapter 2
Crow
Matthias Crow was a quiet boy,
preferring solitude to socializing. He was normal, other than that. He liked
Saturday morning cartoons, cars, planes, dinosaurs, and all the other things
you’d expect a young boy to like. He was homeschooled and woke up as late as
his parents allowed to avoid schoolwork, though they tried to explain to him
that he was merely delaying the inevitable. He was 3’5” at age six, with black
hair and deep brown eyes. His skin was pale and looked a bit sickly at times,
and he was skinnier than an average boy. He was a perfectly normal boy.
But that excluded his wings.
His wings stretched, feathery
and dark, from in between his shoulder blades. They looked like the wings of a
crow. No one knew about these, and his parents would have liked to keep it that
way. Matthias, as a toddler thought he was no different from any other boy and
wondered why his parents kept him in the house all day, though he didn’t mind.
His parents didn’t own a TV, so he had never seen anyone but them and his
grandparents when he used Skype. Even when he did, his parents made him fold
his wings inside his shirt, tightly. He always assumed they did the same thing,
but all the time. His sister Rachel had wings, after all, though they were
metal and folded into her back easily. He didn’t know until his sixth birthday,
when he asked his mother if he could invite the neighborhood boys.
He had always watched them
from the windows. They looked nice and appeared as if they weren’t the type to
disrupt a birthday. He decided he wanted to make friends this birthday, and,
flying downstairs (quite literally), he begged his mother for a party.
Lara Crow was aghast. “A
party?” she asked nervously, her eyes darting around the room, “But-why, Matt?”
“’Cause I want to,” he said
simply.
His mother bit her lip.
His sister Rachel flew down
the stairs, folding her metal wings as she landed next to her mother. “You can’t
have a party, silly,” she said, tousling his hair. He tore away, scowling.
“Why not?” he snapped, “All
the kids in books do!”
“You will understand when you’re
older,” said his mother, as though that ended the discussion.
“NO!!” he screamed, “I get to
know now!”
“Matthias Arnold Crow, do you
want to be sent to your room?”
He stamped his foot and flew
up to his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it as his mother
yelled for him. He would show her. She would have to get a locksmith to get him
out of his room without inviting the neighborhood boys. He sat on is bed and
tried not to cry, but the tears came. No young boy can live in seclusion
forever, even the ones who don’t mind it as much. He cried until he couldn’t
cry anymore, and then lay on his bed, panting and sniffling. He heard a knock
at his door. It wasn’t the sharp knock of his mother or the thudding knock of
his father, more like a mix of both. It was sharp and businesslike like his
mother’s, but quieter like his father’s. He got up and opened the door to see
his sister standing there.
“Why are you here?” he
sniffled, trying to scowl as he blinked back tears.
The ordinary Rachel would have
told him flat out, and if she was angry she would’ve reprimanded him. But she
did something Rachel hadn’t done since he was three.
She hugged him.
He began to sob as she hugged
him, the little boy who had never been farther than the grocery store (and even
then he sat in the car while his parents did the shopping), who had barely felt
the sun in his life, even if he was only six years old. She stroked his mussed
hair and kissed his forehead, comforting him as he slowly stopped crying. He
wiped his eyes with his knuckles as he pulled away.
“Why won’t mommy and daddy let
me invite them?” he sniffled.
“I’ll tell you. Can I come in?”
se asked tenderly.
He nodded and stepped aside to
let her in. She sat down on the bed and faced him.
She told him everything. Hey were
both born with wings, and no one else had wings. He asked her why this mattered,
she explained. Hours and hours she explained, repeating things patiently and
never snapping as he slowly comprehended the story. Rachel could go places
because her wings folded into her back, but his were noticeable lumps at their
tightest squeeze (their grandparents had terrible eyesight, so they didn’t
notice). He wiped his nose on his sleeve.
“Am I a monster?”
“Of course not.”
“But no one else has wings.”
“Fine, then I guess we’re both
monsters.”
Matthias managed a shaky
smile. “M-monster club!” he sniffed.
Rachel hugged him. “Monster
club.”
Rachel
pulled him close as he began to sob.
When Matt woke up, Rachel was
gone.
He knew she would be; she
couldn’t stay with him all day. Still, it would have been nice if she could
have been there. He sniffled and slowly got up.
Rachel suddenly poked her head
in, startling Matt. “Hi, Matt,” she said, smiling.
He smiled shakily. “Monster-Monster
Club!”
She laughed and ran off,
leaving him to follow her as he ran downstairs. He knew he could sneak out
without his parents noticing; he heard his dad snoring and his mom was in the
office, typing. He ran outside, unnoticed by Rachel and giggled as he ran deep
into the woods. He was chilly without his coat, but he didn’t care. It was
almost a new year. 2004 was right around the corner.
He glanced back occasionally,
running farther away from the house and deeper into the woods. What was that
forest poem?
This is the forest prime
weasel-
He paused. That wasn’t right.
This is the forest prime evil-
What was prime evil? No, that
wasn’t it.
This is the forest primeval-
That sounded right, though he
had no clue what primeval was. He unfolded his wings and coasted along,
imagining he was a bird. His wings cast shadows on the snowy ground as he sped
towards the southern corner of the woods. The snow glittered and he stretched his
hand out to touch it. He kept speeding on like a dark streak, stark against the
snow. So, this was snow. So… cold.
So amazing.
He closed his eyes and almost
ran into a wall.
(November 5, 2014 - 10:22 pm)
DON'T DIE, THREAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The wall came up fast, like a
wave crashing over a beach. He pulled up just in time to avoid breaking his
neck, gasping and wheezing as the exertion of flying so quickly caught up to
him. He stared at the imposing building, slowly becoming aware of his
surroundings. His home was nowhere in sight.
He silently flew around the
wall, keeping to the shadows where he might not be seen. It was a thick, white wall, made of pale stone
that glimmered dully in the pale sunlight. He kept flying for what seemed like
ages, nervously glancing behind himself if he heard a noise. The snow had
gathered around the walls, making hills and dunes in its surface. He brushed
back his hair and nervously looked around as he finally came to an iron fence.
The fence was black, as black
as iron could possibly be. It stood seven feet high and ten feet wide; quite
out of place with the pale white walls. Intricate swirls spiraled through the
design, like rain whirling through a windy sky. Mesmerized, he traced the
design with his fingers, first a bar up, then a bar across that one. Next to
that was a bar with three lines jutting out. Then, a triangle with extra-long
sides. Wait, letters!
The first one was l, but it
had a – on top. A capital T.
The second was definitely a
capital E. He could tell just by looking.
The third was a triangle, but
with no bottom and a – in the middle. The letter A.
He wondered why someone would
write TEA on an iron fence on a building in the middle of the forest, not
noticing the man until he spoke.
Leopold raised his eyebrows.
“Those are excellent wings.”
Matt looked terrified and
whirled around, desperately trying to stow his wings in his sweater, but only
making them more obvious. He looked at Leopold with a mix of fear, curiosity,
and anger. Leopold faked a smile (a difficult feat for him) and offered his
hand.
“I am Leopold Dietrich. I work
at the TEA, in this building.”
Matt fidgeted uncomfortably,
torn between running away and asking questions. He decided that the man seemed
okay.
“I’m Matt Crow,” he said
softly, than louder, “Why is it called TEA?”
Leopold decided it would be
wise, if he wanted this boy, to resist yelling at him for asking questions. He
forced an even faker smile, saying, “It stands for Tactical Enforcement
Association, however, that is a bit too long to say. So we call ourselves the TEA.”
Matt nodded. That made sense.
“Would you like to come in?”
asked Leopold, “We have hot chocolate.”
Matt forgot any misgivings
he’d had; he forgot all the stories about kids who had been abducted by such
means. His sense melted away and all that was left was the image of the warm,
steaming cocoa, with jumbo marshmallows and a peppermint stick. He nodded with
a dazed look on his face and followed Leopold inside.
Inside, there was no cocoa, no
warm smell, no spark of life inside the cold hallways. He looked around,
confused, as Leopold whispered to a tired looking assistant. The assistant
looked disturbed and saddened, but like she had heard this before.
In a robotic voice, she turned
to Matt. “Please relax for your own safety.”
“Why?” asked Matt, the hot
chocolate fantasy fading, “What are you-“
He broke off as the woman
injected a syringe into his arm, making him collapse. He woman sighed as
Leopold’s eyes gleamed hungrily.
“Put him in Aveleen’s old
room,” he said coldly.
The woman put him on a
stretcher and wheeled him to his room, where she set him on the bed. She fought
back the tears as she knew he would never escape as long as Leopold lived.
Matt grew up in the lab, his
only memories starting from that day. He last remembered waking up, six years
old, with no memory of his past or family. He walked out into the hall,
ruffling his wings, and looked around at the halls.
Leopold came then. “Hello,
Crow. I looked up your name in the files, but I’ll just call you crow. I-“
“Who are you?” asked Matt,
bewildered.
“Leopold, head scientist of
TEA,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“But- where-who am I?” gasped
Matt.
“At TEA, and your name is
Crow.”
For days, Matt kept asking,
until Leopold threatened to gag him with the thick, air-proof cloth TEA used
for wiping up chemicals. Matt fell silent and never asked again.
He was used as a servant by
Leopold, who forced him to track people down. When he learned Aveleen, then
twelve, was in the area, he forced him to follow her for years. He found he
could turn into a crow when he turned fourteen, and followed her until she
finally used her power. He barreled into Leopold’s private room, morphing into
a human as he panted.
“She’s not-she,” he gasped for
air, “she’s not dormant!”
Leopold whirled around, eyes
blazing. “What?!”
Crow cringed. “She-she used
her power twice. Once to save a necklace-“
“Women,” Leopold grunted.
“I think it might have had
sentimental value, sir,” said Crow, cringing, “and then to get medicine. She
was almost struck by lightning.”
“And you didn’t take her when
she passed out? You little- oh, hello.”
Leopold halted mid-insult as a
particularly pretty assistant walked in. He smiled unctuously, adjusting his
composure. “Why, hello, there,” he stopped to read her nametag, “Lucinda.”
Lucinda smiled with a mask of
confidence. “Hello, sir-“
“Call me Leopold,” he said,
flashing a pure-white grin.
She winced almost
imperceptibly. “Leopold,” she remembered what she had been saying, “What are
you discussing with Mat-Crow?”
“Oh, merely a former subject
of mine. You do remember Aveleen O’Rourke, subject 13?” he asked carelessly.
Lucinda winced. Elite
Chronological Homing Operation, or ECHO, had focused mainly on sticking
chemicals into infants whose blood type matched the calculations. Out of the
thirteen who had had the rare O negative blood type, only two had survived. One
was Aveleen, the other was practically a legend. Her name was Lily, and the
chemical had apparently worked. Aveleen was dormant, so why were they
discussing her?
“Yes, sir. I do. Here is the
coffee you requested,” she said, hurrying towards the door.
“Oh, and Lucinda,” Leopold
said silkily.
Lucinda stiffened. “Yes, sir?”
“Come to dinner with me
tonight,” he said, “Ill drive.”
Lucinda smiled and walked out
of the room, managing to turn her shudder into an enthusiastic nod.
Leopold scowled at Crow as
soon as Lucinda left. “Again, why?”
Crow looked at his feet. “I-I
don’t know, sir.”
Leopold stood and walked to
the window, staring out at the pale snow so like the snow on the day Crow first
came. The dull light cast eerie shadows on Leopold’s face.
“Crow, do me a favor.”
“S-sir?”
“Leave. Don’t come back until
you have her. When you have her, I will release you from my service.”
If people had been around TEA
that day, they would have wondered why a sixteen year old boy with wings was
thrown out the door. They would have wondered why he ran so quickly. And they
might have noticed which direction he ran.
Towards Aveleen’s house.
Toward the telekinetic girl.
Towards freedom.
Chapter 3
School and Such Business
Aveleen woke up at five and dressed for school, as she
had nothing better to do
She groggily ate some instant oatmeal and checked the
clock. It was six now. She ought to start heading over to Noelle’s house.
Noelle ran a company called The Winter Firefly, which was
evident in her home. Knitting needles, empty water bottles, and papers littered
a table amongst Noelle’s tangled menagerie of yarn. Aveleen ran her hands along
the multicolored threads, stroking them and marveling at their diversity.
Amaranth pink, Egyptian blue, and dark taupe were woven together somewhat in
what appeared to be a scarf, though it was not yet finished. Aveleen attempted
to untangle the cobalt blue from the cyan as Noelle came down the stairs.
“You’re up early,” yawned Noelle, “always thought you
hated mornings.”
“I, um,” Aveleen paused, “Went to bed really early last
night.”
Noelle raised an eyebrow but said nothing and began to
untangle a huge knot of crimson, fiddling with different threads and only
succeeded in tangling it further.
“So, how’s it been? Since I saw you two days ago, that
is,” chuckled Noelle.
Aveleen laughed a bit nervously. “Excellent! Um… I read
Lord of the Rings again!”
Noelle raised an eyebrow. “How
many times have you read that now?”
“Fifteen.”
“How long have you had it?”
“Since I was seven.”
Noelle shook her head. “Why am
I not surprised?”
Aveleen laughed. “You aren’t
surprised because I’m the girl who puts out tents at San Diego Comi-Con so I
can have my rare Journey Into Mystery #83 signed.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”
They both giggled before
untangling the yarn in amiable silence.
“We should probably head over
to school.”
“Yes, it’s about that time.”
The schoolyard glittered in
the early morning light. Two boys played tag while little girls played with the
jump ropes. They laughed and giggled as the snow puffed up around their feet,
sending little drifts billowing up towards them.
Aveleen smiled as she and
Noelle walked into math, sitting next to each other as the teacher began
talking about the usual math lessons. Aveleen gasped as she remembered.
She had forgotten her lunch.
She suddenly felt faint with hunger.
She hadn’t eaten for over a day. Her head swam and she barely listened through
the rest of math, staggering into the hall at the bell to see if anyone would
offer anything.
She gawked when she saw a
lunchbag next to her backpack, tied with a bow and a note.
I made this for you; I new
knew you would be starving hungry.
-FB
Faith Brown. Again. She shook
her head as she slowly walked to literature. _________________________________________________________________
After school, Aveleen went home to do homework.
It was simple, and she was finishing at about four o’clock
when she saw a black shadow flit in front of the window. She blinked, wondering
if she was seeing things, and leaned back in her chair in order to see the
window better. After a moment, she shook her head and went back to her
homework.
There. A dark shape outside the door.
Aveleen got up cautiously, peering through the curtains.
She sighed. It was Ashlee Murphy.
Aveleen opened the door, sighing and looking at Ashlee
with a fake smile “Yes?”
Ashlee grinned. “Hey girl!” she said, “What’s up?”
“Um… I’m finishing my homework just now.”
“Ave, you are such a nerd!” Ashlee laughed as Aveleen fidgeted
uncomfortably.
“So… why are you here?” Aveleen asked, looking around for
something to help escape Ashlee. Ashlee
was 5’ 8” at sixteen and was around 4” taller than Aveleen. Aveleen had a
slightly upturned nose, pale skin and dirt blonde hair. Aveleen’s eyes were big
and lively looking. They were actually turquoise but changed depending on her
mood; grey eyes meant angry or bored, green eyes meant tired or normal, blue
when sad or scared, and turquoise when happy. If she had mixed feelings, the
colors combined.
Ashlee had bleached blonde hair, tan skin, and blue eyes.
She was the pinnacle of beauty for her age. Unfortunately, she was mean and not
the brightest bulb in the box. She wrote
the school newspaper’s gossip column. Aveleen found nothing that would be a
valid excuse for escaping, and turned nervously back to Ashlee. To Aveleen’s
chagrin, Ashlee had a notepad and pen.
“I want to ask you, like, about your boyfriend.”
Aveleen’s chagrin turned to shock as she did a double
take. “My-my what?”
“Your boyfriend, you know-“
“I don’t have a boyfriend!”
“Then how did the boy know you? And if you don’t like
him, give me his number.”
“Ashlee, what
are you talking about?!”
Ashlee sighed and talked slowly, as if Aveleen was dumb
not to know. “The cute boy in the Halloween bird wings, duh!” she said, as if
cute boys in Halloween bird wings showed up on doorsteps selling cookies.
“Ashlee, I have no
idea who you are talking about! What exactly happened?!”
“He said he was, like, looking for you.”
“And that made
you think we were boyfriend and girlfriend?” asked Aveleen, disgusted.
“He described you, too, because I played dumb,” Ashlee
said smugly, as though this was an incredibly clever idea.
Aveleen scowled. “I’m sure you have a myriad of reasons
to believe that, but I’m afraid I need to finish my homework. Goodbye,” she
said, slamming the door.
Ashlee left immediately, whistling an obnoxiously merry
tune. Aveleen suddenly realized that by losing her temper, she had made it
appear as if she was hiding something. She banged her head against the wall and
groaned angrily.
(November 9, 2014 - 7:29 pm)
TOP! Here is the cover:
And could you not use the name Winter Firefly, it's my penname, if I ever Publish. (If you use this cover, you could write Winter Firefly, for coverart, if you want...)
(November 26, 2014 - 8:45 pm)