Writer's Choice

When I tell people who I am, they laugh. However, that's before they realize that I am telling the truth. Then they merely turn away and swear to themselves that they will never talk to me again.

Chapter One: and let's begin with…

Once upon a midnight clear I typed and watched as the words appeared on the computer screen. As soon as the words appeared I erased them. "Blah!" It was the best of times; it was the worst of times… "No, far too much A tale of Two Cities!" I erased the words again. "Hmmm…ah-ha!" There was a scrawny midget named Harry whose parents were killed in a 'car crash', but it wasn't REALLY a car crash. That sounded really good to me, but then I saw where I got the idea. "I'd get sued for copying Harry Potter if I wrote that! Wait, I could change Harry's name to Larry and no one would notice…"

I angrily slammed my fist to the keyboard in frustration. Why could I not start a story? Even my little brother could start a story. Wait, I could get Aaron…. I stood up and went to the door, I was about to open it when someone pushed the door into my face.

"Excuse me!" I yelled, and then I found myself face-to-face with none other than Harry Potter.

Harry was tapping his foot, "So…I hear that you are the person to come to if you have a 'story problem'." I could clearly see that I was supposed to answer 'yes,' and watched nervously as he twirled his wand around with his index fingers.

I nodded. Harry pushed passed me and sat down by the computer. I silently closed the door and then nearly fell back in shock.

I hadn't erased the last thing I typed and now Harry came into my room. "What is this about there being a scrawny midget with my same name?" Harry puzzled. "You know, I think the two of us have a lot in common. Petunia told me that my parents were killed in a car crash, but that wasn't the truth."

Harry had a good friend named Ron Weasley and another good friend named Hermione Granger. "Now this Harry could be me."

"Yah, I always said you were a scrawny midget."

"Ron!"

"What, I was just saying the truth."

I turned around a found Ron and Hermione standing in my room, looking upon Harry and the words written upon my computer screen. Hermione, the brightest of the three, figured out what my computer could do, perhaps even before I did.

Ron showed how sorry he was for being rude by bursting into tears and giving Harry a big hug.

Hermione waited for a moment, and then began to laugh. Ron had erupted into violent sobs and was hugging Harry so hard that I worried that he might pop. I looked down on the computer screen. Of course, the power of words is much stronger when it comes to characters.

I erased the words, and Ron stopped crying immediately. Harry looked nervously at Ron before sulking away, "its okay Ron, I didn't take offense to it. I won't hold it against you. Just next time you are sorry, please don't go act like that. It was kind of scary."

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, can I have you attention for a moment?" I asked. Each turned to me, and I smiled weakly. "You say that you want help with your story?" They nodded. "Okay, well, don't mess around with this computer, or any other computer for that matter. It controls your world, whatever is written will happen, so we have to be very careful. Understand?"

They did, just not in the way I expected. All three of them pushed me out of the way to the computer first, each wanting easy glory.

Ron reached the computer first.

But they were wrong; Harry wasn't the only one who could survive the killing curse-

Harry got there next, pulling Ron off the computer and throwing his elbow into Hermione's face. She stumbled back, grabbing her bleeding nose.

Voldemort found remorse before he died and now he is in Heaven throwing flowers to all the little children.

Ron was angry, he really did love Hermione.

Hermione's nose stopped bleeding even though Harry is a-

Harry punched Ron, giving him a bloody nose.

-wonderful and brilliant person.

"STOP! You idiotic bunch of morons! Look what you are doing to each other," I lazily pushed Ron and Harry out of my way.

Ron's nose stopped bleeding.

It did. "Now, with that under control, I have an idea. Since the three of you are friends, I am sure this will work at least decently. I want you to get over your temperamental anger and we'll take turns, like kinder gardeners. First I shall go, for I am the least biased. Then Ron will go because he isn't a scrawny midget or a retarded know-it. Hermione will go third for she isn't as ugly as Harry. Harry will go last, and then I shall go again. We will repeat in that order."

They grumbled, Harry the loudest.

"Each person writes ten words." Then I began.

It was a decently good evening, with the sun setting—over Harry's overlarge and fat head. No one liked to—say just how bad of a friend Ron is. Just—now, Harry triumphed, knowing that he's fame had increased and that he—

"Harry, that's twelve words," I said impatiently.

Ron growled, "See who the idiot is now."I grabbed the keyboard and began to type.

--is a scrawny midget.

This began a brawl. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed at me. I typed vigorously: Harry dropped his wand. Thankfully he did, and just in time too. Harry looked embarrassed when he bent over to pick it up. Ron swung upwards and knocked Harry over; throwing his arms up in victory. "Idiots!" Hermione yelled, and she punched Ron in the jaw.

"Enough guys!" I yelled. "I see that just because you are friends doesn't mean that you guys can get along.

Then Voldemort walked into the room. He was holding a dozen bright-pink roses. "…yes, I planted them this morning. Aren't they beautiful?" Voldemort gestured to the roses.