Hey guys, sorry that I have been gone for a long time and never updated any of my stories as promised. I had a lot going on, especially now that I will be moving in November. Yet again. *sigh* Growing up, my family and I used to move around and never had a place to call our own. But thats another story for another time.
Anyways, I want your opinion or more like a vote, about which stories to delete and which to keep.
The stories are the following:
Run To Me
I am Awake
Survival Guide 101
Who Are You Now
Blank Space
Gone Bad
Adelaide
I would really appreciate if you guys let me know which to keep and which to delete. I have so many stories that I never completed and I want to know which one grabs the readers attention.
For now, I want to start a new story that is based on Avengers. I've started writing this story over the summer and I got even more motivated when I went to see Marvel Universe live! with my younger cousin. The show was fantastic! I couldn't get over the fact how amazing the show was, especially the stunts! Gah!I just went few weeks ago but I would do anything to repeat the whole night again!
Anyways, enjoy this story! I will update second chapter tomorrow!
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There is a saying that after you die, it is believed that you have 7 minutes of brain activity left inside you and in the 7 minutes you experience your entire life over in a kind of dream. Because, in a dream, time feels stretched. So, if this is the case, what if right now you're in that 7 minutes? How do you know if you're alive or just reliving old memories?
My memory took me all the way back to where I met ta man that cared so much for someone like me; who cared so little about giving my life up. It took me back to my first kiss to the first heart break. It took me back to the first friendship to the very last betrayal and the hurt in their eyes. Those seven minutes felt like seven years as it took me back of all the mistakes I have ever made. To being a stranger, to feel love and hate to the last tears without a goodbye.
We learned who really was the bad guy in this war.
We all believe that we are good until we realize what we have 's always a twist to everything.
At least we got the chance to switch sides before gravity pulled us down.
Well, one of us did.
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Chapter one: Summer
Aliens are stupid.
I don't mean those green little creatures with big heads, black eyes and stubby fingers. No, I mean the actual aliens that have incredible strength, supernatural powers, born from a different planet, the ones that blend in with humanity, or have wealth, money, power and fame with smarts; those whom walk among us. Those aliens are well known and they are known for their heroic acts. Beating the bad guys, taking them to time out, and the town throws a parade and confetties.
Heroes are stupid.
Yes, I said it. They get all the attention, while the rest of us lurk in the shadows and fear of getting caught and tested of our abilities. No matter how hard we prove ourselves that we are not bad as we look, some still feel threatened and lock us up. Because they are scared of our powers and how we look.
It wasn't our fault that we were picked at random and tested unwillingly. Needles penetrating on our skins and serums floating in our system. We are human lab rats, picked up at the moments that were dying. Going through their experiments was hell. It was worse than dying. The excruciating pain, the daze feeling, faded memories, and the empty feelings. I felt a cold, silver metal hand on my shoulder. I didn't need to look up to see who it was, however my body was slightly shaking at what we are about to do. No matter how many times we've done this, I always get nervous. The floor was ours and we had eyes watching us, waiting for us to start our training. His metal hand lingered from my arm all the way down to my cold, sweaty hands. I felt the hairs on the back of my arms standing up and shivered in nervousness and goosebumps. I looked up at my friend, who was taller than me, wider than me because of his immense muscles. His stubbled, unshaved lower facial features, his menacing blue eyes but his soft comforting smile. His long dark brown hair that formed his face, and the dark circles around his eyes due to lack of sleep.
My only friend since the experiments, my friend until the end of time; Winter.
Winter wasn't much of a talker, he's more into body gestures and facial expressions. He only talks when he needs to and in most occasions, in his sleeps. Winter held my hand firmly before we walked in to the training room, giving me a small comforting smile that only lasted 5 seconds. He gave me a concerned look, pushing my strand of hair behind my ear. I wasn't scared of fighting with him, we have been training together for a long time. I'm not scared of getting hurt as long as I'm winning, I don't care if I get a miniature scratch or lose a limb. I don't care at all as long as I'm winning and getting the job done.
What I'm really scared of is being judged and being told that I am not doing good and start all over.
At this base, we are trained to kill. No remorse, no mercy. However, I never killed any one, or put anyone in harms way but myself. And the thing about killing is that you don't know if you can actually do it until you do. That is when you will know what you are really capable of and my second fear of that, I will not know if I will be able to control myself. I feel like nothing is ever going to happen to me or Winter because we hardly ever leave base, but we won't know until something really happens to us. How are we going to react? We weren't taught how to treat wounds, only to walk it off. We are just trained to fight and kill at all cost because the whole world wants to kill us. For being lab freaks. For being different. For not having the money and buying people to let them think that we are the good guys.
My body grows every day, following a strict diet and sleeping routines. And even though my body grows, as the day goes by, my spirits begins to crumble. I used to hope that someone would come and save us or at least put us out of our misery. But that day never came and it never will.
We heard a Russian voice speak through the intercom, "Winter Soldier and Summer, step to the ring in five." A small, chubby brunette woman who was wearing faded blue military uniform and a white with red cross band across her sleeve, came to us. She carried a small silver tray, like the ones that is used at the restaurants to carry food to their customers, but this tray contained two serums; yellow and red.
I pulled my hair to the side of my shoulder and looking up at my friend and half smiled at him, "Good luck." He half nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder in comfort. Winter grabbed the yellow serum from the tray and injected himself on his right arm. His good real arm. When the needle penetrated the first layer of skin, I saw him flexing his hand so it won't go numb and then placed the needle back to the tray. He didn't hiss or show any sign of pain.
I saw him walk away when I felt cold raspy fingers brush at the base at the back of my neck, the nurse did not even ask if I was ready or what it was. I usually get a green serum inserted in my system but this woman just went straight at it and almost stabbed me to death.
If only I died, but that serum is what keeps me alive. Without it, in matter of days I would start feeling weak and my insides deteriorate, my organs turning into liquids and bleed inside out. I would start experiencing flu like symptoms only more slowly and unbearable. I would start hallucinating and won't be able to tell what is real and what is not. From unbreakable to breakable.
The nurse dabbed a wet cloth where she shot me and then walked away without a word. I walked towards the tall white doors and pushed them open. When I walked through them, I felt something going through my body and then feeling lifted.
This is not my drug that I am used too.
As I walked through the doors, I did not recognized the training floor. I saw a maroon stair rail to my left and I automatically placed my hand on it, walking down slowly. Everything around me felt really hot and it smelled like cigarette. A group of ballerina girls walked upstairs in single file. Not one of them showed emotions or talked to each other.
Where am I?
It looked very familiar. I felt my heart started to beat fast and I felt like I was breathing too fast. In front of me, I saw few girls waltzing around as a very faint song played in the ground. Three girls were sitting on the floor, they were watching and waiting for their turn. One particular girl caught my attention, however. The girl had fair white skin, soft pink lips, rosy cheeks and her long black hair set up into a tight bun. The girl looked at least 16 years old.
"Again." An instructor sighed in frustration and held a grim look. The instructor did not look friendly at all. He had his gray eyes on the girls and then looked at the black hair girl sitting at the corner of the room.
"Emily, your turn." His voice echoed, and it sounded like he was almost moaning. Everything sounded like a moan and whenever someone talked, it would be slow.
The whole world moved slow.
Emily got up slowly, face down and walked towards the group of girls that were practicing.
"Emily, face forward and on your toes." The man instructed. The girl inhaled and exhaled and did what she was told. Face forward and on her toes. Every so often, the girls' body would tremble since only a certain amount of time they can stay up on their tip toes. But the instructor did not care, he continued to push them. Especially Emily.
"Emily, on your toes and face forward. Start from the beginning." The instructor called her out. I saw the way her shoulder started to shake and her arms. I saw the sweat at the corner of her hair line and her eyes turning red at the point of breaking. Emily looked down for a quick second, "Emily, eyes up and face forward!"
"Emily, shoulder up and on your toes!" The girl squared her shoulder and started again. She twirled and waltzed across the room with the rest of the girls and accidentally bumped with one by accident making both of them fall down.
"Get up!" The instructor boomed.
The blonde girl got up but not Emily. Come on, Emily get up!
"Emily, get up!" The instructor is going to break her. The rest of the girls moved out of his way and watched the whole scene. He pulled the girl up rather harshly by her arms and the girl looked at him with tears rolling down her eyes, "You're not good enough! Again!" He shouted at her and she cried.
"Again!"
Again! Again! Again! Again!
I felt something cold and hard hitting me across my rib cage, knocking the air out of me. The impact was so hard that it sent me flying across the room, hitting against the cold pale wall. My vision was blurry and I saw double. My opponent was across the room waiting for me to get up and do something about it.
You're not good enough, just like Emily.
My hands clenched into a fist, my knuckles turning red and white. I got up and cranked my neck to the side. I ran towards my opponent and went back to the waltz room.
I saw Emily standing in front of a shooting cardboard and hand a gun in her small hand. Never in my life had I held a loaded gun and pulled the trigger, but Emily has. I saw the corner of her lips twitching, wanting to smile. She looked so alive when the bullet hit the head of the cardboard and the judges behind her watching and taking notes.
"Good, but not good enough." A red head woman commented and looked down at her notes. The instructor looked at the woman and then back at Emily, "Again."
Emily went again, she was shooting more than once and switched hands. My vision blurred and saw a woman in a red dress on her knees and weeping, speaking in a foreign language. I couldn't see her face since it was covered with a brown bag.
"No, porfavor." she cried. I looked at Emily, her arm raising and the gun pointing at her victims head. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, pulled the trigger and-
"On your feet!" Someone shouted from above and I looked up to see where the voice was coming from but only a fist met my left side of the cheek. I was going to wear blush this week but I guess purple blush will look good on me.
I doubled back, almost falling on my ass but I regained my balance and went back to my opponent. I ran towards him, slid underneath him and hit him on his weak spot. Winter got up quickly and ran towards me, I did too and managed to jump on his shoulder wrapping my legs around his neck and punched him down to the floor.
I saw Emily again. A man in his early twenties had his arms around her neck, having her in a chokehold. Both of the cringing in pain but neither one giving up until Emily tap his elbow to release her. She fell on her knees gasping for air and the man moved away from her to give her space and shaking his head in frustration.
"Sloppy. Pretending to fail. Again." The woman in blue dress announced and walked around the room.
Emily was breaking down and everyone pushed her. She would get mad whenever she is told when she is not doing good and being sloppy when only she was trying her best.
But her best is not good enough for the rest.
Emily is me.
Winter had me in chokehold and I managed to get a good grip on his real arm and pulled him over my shoulder and place a foot on his throat.
xx
At the end of the training, I went back to my room after I took a long shower. I laid down on my cot and stayed still in the darkness. I closed my eyes and only saw Emily breaking down and children faces with no lips. I can hear her crying and shouting in frustration. I saw her holding a gun to her temple but only drops the gun and pulls out a razor. I see her bleeding wrists and the scars forming.
I pulled up my own wrists and saw the faint scars.
Emily is me, but Emily is long dead and gone, Summer.
I have no memory of my past and I don't know what I just saw during training. It was probably the drugs.
xx
Hey guys, I know this story is short but its something right? Please read and review and let me know what you think. I know there's not a lot of plot to this story but the second chapter it will pick up the pace. This is just and introduction!