Chatterbox: Inkwell

READ? PLS?

hey guys, I recently started writing a novel for NANOWRIMO (I saw Vi do something like this and I thought why not) so I'd love some feed back, I think it's good....but that could be just because I'm writing it...OH WELL. but  anyway, I've titled my book 'The Creater' but I might change that later. (feel free to point out any mistakes :)) without further Adu( I think I spelled this wrong...) I present to you, my creation!~~~

Chapter one

In which I am introduced to a bewitched rag, yay.

Typically, when a fireball tips over your school bus, when you’re heading back to the miserable place you call a boarding school, you find it terrifying, I found it more of a relief. Well, at least a first, then the unmistakable sense of fear washed over any remaining relief, even if we were getting more time away from the horrid boarding school, we were still under attack from, something.

We had been on our way back from California's natural history museum when it happened. You probably think something called such a thing would include something that was actually interesting, like weird abstract art, that ‘can look like anything’. But nope. It was literally a museum of natural history, where an old guy with a white beard droned on and on, about the world's tallest trees.

But anyway, we had been on the bus minding our own business (more or less) when we were hit.

I had been sitting in the back, Lexia Andrews, a girl with pale skin, dyed blue hair, and terrifyingly blood red irises, sat in front of me, her head slightly bobbing as she listened to whatever music was blasting from her splatter paint pink earbuds. She sat next to Finn, a guy with short black hair, and a hopeless crush on Lexia, as Finn tried to get her attention, the girl merely, turned her back and looked out the window.

The seat next and diagonal to me were empty, the back of the bus was strictly for the people the teachers didn’t want to deal with anymore, and I was top on that list.

I was known for causing trouble, but in reality, I’m caught in the  wrong place at the absolute wrong time, but when I tell people that do they believe me? Of course not, that exactly what a ‘troubled kid’ would say.

I had been blankly staring out the window at the time, noticing a black cat perched on top of a mildewing fence, still wet with the morning dew. The sun had been blocked by ominiouse grey clouds, casting an eerie glow over everything. Finn was hopelessly flirting with Lexia, as she stared blankly at a notebook in front of her, strange symbols littering the page in no general order.

“Does this make sense to you?” Lexia said, staring me down, her red eyes shining like a blazing fire. She shoved her notebook into my face, and I got my first real glance at the symbols that seemed thrown about. They looked familiar, like a picture from an art museum I saw years ago, but it didn’t make sense. I shook my head, and Lexia let out a huff of breathe, sinking back into her seat without another word, I felt like I should have save something else, that was the first time she had spoken to me, and it looked like she hoped it was the last.

“Miss Juliak! Please stay seated, and facing forward, do not make me come back there,” Mr. Wallenberg shouted back, glaring at us, at me. Because as always, it was my fault.

I sunk down into the corner of the bus seat, wondering how much longer we would be stuck the torture chamber on wheels. The noise level here was quieter than a library’s. Mostly because everyone was terrified of Mr. Wallenberg, and what would happen if he got mad, he had a tendency of snapping at students, I had been at the end of most of his punishments.

The sky outside slowly began to darken to a dark blue, small specks of stars beginning to come out from their hiding, and shimmering, taunting us with how free they truly were. It was then when we were hit out of the blue. Most of us, had began drifting into the strange stage of consciousness and sleep, where one was drowsy enough to block something they didn’t want to have stored in their memory, sadly, I wasn’t one of those people, so it’s safe to say, my memory is about as untouched and correct as they come.

We had already crossed into the small, cramped dirt path that led down to the boarding school, and we were the only people on the road. The bus driver had apparently turned on the radio, and I could hear a screaming coming from the speakers, some sort of metal, or maybe rock, something very out of character for the dainty female driver. A small pitter patter, indicated the fact of rain beginning to come down, strange since it had been almost cloudless a few moments before.

“Lexia Juliak! What did I say!” Mr. Wallenberg shouted again, and I turned my attention to the seat in front of me, only to find one head poking up. I looked around, seeing Lexia the the seat next to me, her eyes directed toward the floor, her figure rigid, as if something had scared her. I looked out the window, wondering if she had seen some sort of strange shadow, or maybe an owl, or other type of night creature, merely ran by, and startled her. But that didn’t seem like something she would be afraid of. Something told me it was much, much more.

Something rammed up against the side of the bus, making the vehicle shake, I pressed my face against the glass, puffs of smoke clouding my view as I breathed against the cool surface, but I was still sure of what I saw. A cloaked figure dressed in all black, stared right back at me,  while most of his face was covered, I could see a small patch of wrinkly, grey skin, not in an older person way, it was something that seemed to come out of horror movie. The figure pulled what I assumed was his arm, and slowly began to reveal his face, I spin my head around quickly, trying to see if anyone else had noticed what was going on, everyone was normal, the slight chatter a bit quieter that before, but nothing was unusual.

Except for Lexia.

She was right next to me, her eyes gleaming as they stared at the cloaked man, his face now fully revealed. Coarse hair, that seemed to only grow in two inch intervals, swept down his shoulders, his eyes were completely white, yet they looked to be staring right at me. He had no eyebrows or lashes, but he had dark blue whiskers poking out from his skin, beneath his nose. Giant green orbs had been placed in his earlobes, like idiotically big earings, he opened his mouth, showing pitch black teeth, and a dark purple tongue, with a slit down the middle, it mouthed a single word, before pushing off the bus back into the night, ‘Lexia’.

I turned to the girl, his hands clasped into fists so tight her skin was ghostly white, “get down,” she whispered, and at first I wasn’t sure she had truly spoken, her voice quieter than I had ever heard her. “Get down!” she said again, louder this time, yanking my arm, pulling me to the ground, my face crammed up against the seat in front of me.

“Do you know that thing?” I hissed, feeling the need to keep my voice down. Lexia wouldn’t meet my eye. Her gaze shifted around, so I wasn’t sure if it was because she was scared, it was almost like she was calculating.

“Peter, I mean this is the nicest possible way, but, shut up,” she said, her voice low, like a purring cat. For a moment it was almost like her figure was shifting, her appearance changing, but I must have imagined it.

The bus came to a surprise stop, and everything jolted forward, making my face slam into the seat, I pulled back, rubbing my nose. “Aw man!” I heard the bus driver yell, “we’ve got a flat, a full out flat tire, I didn’t even know we ran over something,” she began rambling, and I stopped listening, but I did find it strange that out of nowhere, after the strange creature-human hybrid thing, that we had a flat tire, stopping us from getting back to the crappy hole we call a home. But I wasn’t complaining, the more time we got away from the boarding school, the better.

“Keep quiet and low, get as close to the ground as you can,” Lexia instructed, I listened, crouching down as far as I possibly could, given the fact I was in between two seats.

I wondered why, after all this time of going to the same school, that now was the time Lexia Juliak started talking to me, not even a ‘hi’ in the halls, and now she was giving me directions for, something.

I opened my mouth, trying to form a question, but I was cut off, with a blazing heat whizzed over me, I felt my skin beginning to burn, like someone brought down the sun and strapped it to the top of the bus. I let out a yell of agony, because who wouldn’t when they were being cooked alive? Stupidly, I tried to look at whatever was acting as a giant oven, quickly, whipping my head back afterward, because it was like I was looking into the sun that was strapped to the top of the roof. So that was fun.

While it felt like hours, that it was above us, it couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds, simply zooming over us.

The fireball was gone.

The roof of the bus was still there, there was no hole where the fire had passed through, Lexia was back in front of me, ignoring Finn, and I was the idiot sitting on the ground, screaming.

“Watts!” Mr. Wallenberg yelled, “what the hell are you doing?” his voice was pretty much the definition of anger, sounding like he was ready to walk back, and throw me out the window. The rest of the bus looked back at me, most of them snickering, Peter Watts’ at it again. But this, like everything else, was not my fault, like the time a giant bird flew into my english classroom, and I tried to fend it off with my chair, I got sent to the principal's office for that one, even through, I was 100% sure it was real.

The bus had begun moving again, as if it hadn’t just had a flat tire. Mr. Wallenberg shot me a menacing look, trying to decide whether or not I was was worth getting up for. He apparently thought against it, and turned back to speak to the bus driver.

I waited awhile in silence, wondering if I truly had imagined what just happened. I looked over at Mr. Wallenberg, making sure he wasn’t still watching me, I stood up and tapped Lexia on the shoulder. She turned to me, her face filled with annoyance as she pulled her out her earbuds, “What?” she said.

“That thing with the fire…” I trialed off, hoping she would pick up where I left off and explain. That didn’t happen. She gave me a blank stare, her eyes squinting at me.

“Are you trying to joke with me? We’ve never spoken before, go prank your friends,” and with that, she turned back around, and went back to doing nothing.

I slumped down, my hands shaking, heart still beating way faster than it should. This couldn’t be something I made up. I felt alone in the back of the bus, sitting on this plastic seat, the cold metal of the bus pressed up against my arm, I didn’t really notice it. My stomach squeezed, and I felt sick. For what seemed like the hundredth time this week, I wished I had someone to go home to, or at least someone I could write to, someone that would care about my insane hallucinations, as the school nurse like to call them. But I couldn’t, my parents died years ago, in a fire that claimed all my belongings.

I could still see the bright smiling face of my mom when I closed my eyes, her long black hair hanging just above her shoulders, and the dark grey eyes everyone said I shared with her, the dimples-another thing she handed down to me-that seemed perfectly placed next to her full smile, skin that always seemed to be tan, and limbs that seemed out of place, but were absolutely perfect.

My dad was the complete opposite, he was about an inch shorter than my mother, and had blond hair, and evergreen eyes, with a nose that was just slightly crooked, something you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking. He was fit, always working out at the gym, but not because he was a muscle maniac, he once told me that he worked out so much because he lost his brother to diabetes, and he refused to let the disease take anyone else he loved, so he made sure my mom and I didn’t eat too much ice cream, and actually exercised sometimes. People said I looked more like him, with the hair, and nose, but I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see myself looking like anyone honestly, to myself, I was just, well, just me.

I had been seven when they died, and for the past eight years, I’ve been living here at the horrid boarding school for the orphans that were turned away from foster cares.

“Watts! Hurry up!” Mr. Wallenberg shouted shaking me from my thoughts. I looked around, we had pulled into the parking lot of the school, everyone had already gotten off the bus. I thought I caught Lexia looking at me from outside, but it must have simply been the tinted windows.

I jogged down the isle, keeping my head low as I passed the warden, nodding a silent ‘thank you’ to the bus driver, she gave me a sad smile.

“How was the trip?” Max asked as I got off the bus. Max was pretty much the only person who talked to me here, without the intention of trying to fight, I would trust him with my life. “See any interesting trees?” he laughed.

I looked around and saw Finn looking over at me in disgust, it wasn’t unlikely for him to be unfriendly, but this was stranger than usual.

“Dude, did something happen with you and that blue haired girl? Lexia, the popular one?” he started, speaking as if this school had millions of girls named Lexia, “I mean she was totally checking you out earlier.” I looked around trying to find the mysterious girl, was there a chance the fireball thing really did happen, and she remembered? Could she just be pretending to think I’m insane, and in reality, I’m somewhat sane? All questions that would have to stay unanswered, because yet again, Lexia was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t think so,” I lied, normally I’d tell Max about my ‘hallucinations’, but this time it felt like something that needs to be kept to myself. Like some sort of secret.

“Just remember, that I totally call dibs,” Max joked, nudging me with his arm. I gave a small smile, still wondering about earlier.

“I’m not a prize to be won Maxwell,” Lexia said, seemingly appearing out of thin air. Her blue hair had been tied back, face expressionless.

“Woah, uh, s-sorry,” Max stuttered, his cheeks turning almost the same color as Lexia’s eyes. I tried to hold back my laughter, earning me a glare from my dear friend. “We were talking about a different Le-”

“Save it for someone who wants your explanation,” she said, closing her eyes as she shook her head for a moment, like something was paining her. “Anyway, and this is super important,” she said, turning to me, “Did you see my notebook? The one I had on the bus?” her face flooded with worry in a matter of seconds, her hands shaking.

“No, the one with the weird wri-” she slapped her hand over my mouth, her eyes sending warning flares. “I could help you look?” I asked once she took her hand away. She sighed exasperated, before turning on her heal, and walking away, muttering about something.

“What was that?” Max said, eyes wide. I shook my head, and without answering, walked off, my mind on much different matterers.

And besides, I needed to find that notebook before Lexia did, maybe that could give me some answers.

Anyway, thanks for reading,