So, tentsv here, and I am making a story. I am bored out of my mind. Here goes. Oh, and the pov's are for pp. I will be using abbreviations to hide it. So if someone were to try and read this, they'ed have a hard time.
CHAPTER 1-The Voice mpov-at the beach m: this is it. The score is 0-1, me on the losing team. As always. Before I realized it, the ball came hurtling towards me. I jump and miss badly. Yeesh, I thought, I really have to up my game! ?: "You really should."
m: who was that? I whip around to see nothing. It was like they were behind me!
c: I see m on the other side, staring at nothing, but he is glaring at it, so I walk over there to see what is wrong. "Hey," I said. "What's up?"
m: I turn around again to see nothing but c, giving me the look. I guess I was hearing things, I thought. Maybe it won't come again. "Nothing" I mumbled, embarrassed at what happened. I think I should go to the doctor. The doctor would fix this.
?: "No! Don't! They might-uh-lock you up in the mental facilities!"
m: There goes that voice again! Well, maybe I will let it talk so I can track it.
?: "I won't let you track me! I am smart enough to know what you are going to do!"
m: Obviously he's not. I look at the direction I am hearing him from, and then jump toward the sound, snapping my jaws, only to come up with air and jaw pain. I moan. "I almost had him," I said in a whisper. This was getting ridiculous. I decide to ignore him for a while, and then get checked out. Maybe I am dreaming! This could all be a wild and wacky dream! My smile slips. If I missed the ball in this dream, then I am WAY to clumsy in real life.
r: p's! To the lo!
p's: rnu!
m: Let's see how this goes...
p's except m: Where's m?
m: I have to be less clumsy, I have to! "I have to, I have to I-" as I chant what I need to do, I am not focusing on the ground beneath me. I step in a bucket and tumble down towards the others. Shoot.
z: I start a head count. "1,2,3,4,5,6, 7? Where's m?" I asked, cocking my head to the side a little bit. Funny thing about head tilting, it can state things from good to bad to confusion. Mine was confusion.
ro: "here he comes", I say, pointing toward the blur of black, white, red and brown. "Probably a bucket." I guessed.
m: "Look out!" This is worse than I thought. Hopefully this is still a dream? I'm not too sure of myself either way. I close my eyes, bracing for impact, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes again to see that I have come to a stop. "Hey, the bucket's off!" I look back to see it smack dead into my face. I continue rolling, questioning the universe if they hate me or something. I close my eyes once more, and the collision finally happens. I always make a joke, though. Since this is the real deal, I will give them the double whammy. I go for it, having a great one. Or two, shall I say. "Don't cask. I was just jugging before this happened."
z: I never had any jokes before, but I think I will give it a shot. I think this one's good. "You did look a little pail." That got a good laugh. But I think I saw a glare in my direction before it quickly hid into a smile.
m: That was... a pretty good joke. I never get laughs like that. He's already good at stuff, but clumsiness and jokes are MY red carpet. I gave him a glare to warn him, then went on and smiled. But that was not going to slide.
c: "This one might be fun!"
m: Oh yes it might. As a matter of fact, it will be.
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