So, this is something we had to do for our library class. We had to write a ten chapter story, five to ten pages per chapter, and the teacher had us center it all so we would have to write less. We each got a prompt, and mine was to write a book/story for middle schoolers. I was going over it in my docs and discovered that, once out of print layout, there is only a thousand or so words per chapter. It's nowhere near as long as my usual standard, but since this is how it is written and I have a lot to copy and paste, the chapters will be fairly short. I hope that doesn't bother anyone. Once I begin writing on it again I think the chapters might get longer, or they might not. Who knows? I hope you enjoy it, anyway, however, and that you review and tell me what you think.
Note: I had to label it under books and Harry Potter (I decided that was best due to the magic, I suppose, but perhaps I should have used Narnia) in order to upload the story. There is no HP in this. Well...actually, maybe. Harry has terrible luck and might just fall out of a portal in the sky, who knows? *Shrugs*
I sat alone in class, in my own personal secluded corner far, far away from the idiots I had deemed (very original, I know) The Blockheads. And I don't mean they have literal block heads, because that would be crazy. No, they just have no sense and like to sit at the front of the class so they can mess with the teacher and cheat off the smarter kids. Which, that's perfectly fine and all. Except for the fact that they're just so loud, and it's ridiculous.
"Settle down," called our teacher, Mr. Stanley. He didn't seem very enthusiastic; poor guy, I actually felt sorry for him. He probably started out the year excited to be teaching a new group of students who were ready to learn, but instead got us. "Come on, stop talking, you've got work to do!"
Jacob Marley (the leader of his band of idiots) turned around in his seat and pressed a straw to his lips. I knew what was coming and hastily flipped my folder up in front of my face; I could feel the slight impact of something hitting it and carefully lowered it. I peered around the side and could clearly see the spitball there, stuck to the front of my otherwise perfect folder, and winced.
Stupid boy, I inwardly grumbled, shooting him a glare as I poked the spitball experimentally with the tip of my pencil. Ugh. He could've picked anybody else…
I finally managed to use my pencil to flip the spitball from my folder and set it back on the desk. Mr. Stanley was looking pretty distressed, and it only got worse as the class got louder; they never listened to him, anyway. Why would they? He's pretty spineless, no offense. I mean, he's okay and all, but he really needs to learn to stand up for himself sometime. No one will listen to him otherwise, not unless he puts his foot down.
I glared at Jacob Marley one last time, before I pulled out my notebook and pressed the pencil to the paper, turning my eyes to the words that had been written there. I loved to write, and I was constantly making up different stories just the way I liked them: strange. Well, not strange so much as different, but still. I liked to write to escape the reality I lived in, where I was a lonely little orphan girl who hated the majority of the people in her town.
Everyone was so basic, and basic is boring, I'll tell you now. Everyone here is completely satisfied with their bleak little town and their bleak little lives, where everyone knows everyone and helps everybody else.
I'm not from here, here as in Strong City, Kansas, where everything is completely and utterly flat. Sure, there are hills and stuff, but what I miss are the mountains of my old home, in Wears Valley, Tennessee. I'd lived there until I was thirteen, when they shipped me off here to live with my drunk, hardly ever home foster parents, Dean and Marla. I'd only ever socialized with them when they were in and completely plastered, so my impression of them wasn't the best.
I'd tried to be optimistic when I got here. Really, I did. But when you had foster parents like Dean and Marla Kidd, and had classmates like Jacob Marley, you couldn't help but lose all hope for anything good to come out of the move.
I wonder what would've happened if I had stayed… I twirled my pencil between my fingers and shook the thought, because I already knew. I would have still been alone, but at least then, I'd have had the mountains to run away to. Whatever. What's done is done, and I'm stuck here until they move me again.
I pressed my pencil to the paper again, hoping that I could maybe start a sequel for my last story, but for right now...well, I'm out of juice. My thinker no longer wants to work for me, and I'm starving.
Great. And there's still….a half an hour until lunch. Ugh. I dropped my head onto my now folded arms and groaned softly. What I wouldn't kill for a burger.
I lifted my head and decided to preoccupy myself by flipping through the pages of my notebook, reading through what I already had so far.
See, this particular story involves my main character, Luke Mason, who just happens to be an orphan like me; I relate better to him that way. He and his twin sister Lyra had escaped their own foster home and discovered that there were evil warlocks out to get them, and these warlocks were coincidentally the same ones who had killed their parents.
So, they had run into an old, abandoned manor and hidden. Right before the warlocks found them, however, Lyra tripped and fell into a wall; the wall had turned like a revolving door, and both she and Luke had been thrown to the other side. On that other side, they discovered another dimension (dimension, world, land, whichever) called Aerovera, and found themselves stuck with a small, talking purpled rabbit named Kyuri. They had no way out and were sure the warlocks were following them, so they fled and made many odd friends and enemies along the way. They fared pretty well in the new world, to be honest, and had even made friends with the princess of the land, Callidora.
Like I said, everything went reasonably well, until the warlocks, Hisao and Raiden, kidnapped the princess and took over the kingdom, thus forcing Luke, Lyra, and many of the citizens of Aerovera to flee and go into hiding.
I left off there. I hadn't been able to think up anything else yet, so I hadn't written anything in a week. Honestly, it was killing me, not being able to write, but since I had writer's block, I wasn't getting anywhere soon.
I tapped my pencil against the desk and bit my lip, frowning down at my notebook as I thought hard. Maybe I could….no. Or I could just have them….no.
I groaned in frustration, and when the bell rang, quickly packed my things away, slung my bag over my shoulder, and made a break for the bus.
Thankfully, I managed to find an empty seat and slid in near the window, depositing my bag beside me so no one could sit there. I hated sitting with other people, and the ones that rode my bus were nothing short of obnoxious.
I leaned my head against the cool window, watching the landmarks fly by as the bus trundled on, ignoring the loud chatter and shrieks coming from everywhere around me. I closed my eyes to wait it all out.
~~~xxx~~~
I awoke to the bus jerking to a stop, and I leapt from my seat, grabbing my bag as I glanced about wildly. I hadn't missed my stop, had I? I felt a panic rise within me as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings; almost all the other kids were gone, and I was only the tenth or eleventh stop at most.
No! No, no, no….Dean and Marla will kill me! I bolted from the bus, all but throwing myself down the stairs when the doors open, and when it slowly rolled away, I regretted it. I felt the first raindrop hit and sighed, pulling my hood over my head. Just my luck.
I trudged on for what felt like hours in what I hoped was the right direction, and it seemed that for once I knew what I was doing, because the house I stayed in was only a short ways up the road.
The rain was pouring when I made it to the door, and almost immediately, Marla was in my face before I'd even made it inside.
"Where've you been?" she demanded, and I cringed at the smell of her breath; Bud Light, and lots of it. "You were supposed to be cookin' dinner by now!"
"I fell asleep," I tried to explain, taking a step back. "I missed the stop, and then it started to rain…"
"I don't care! Get those muddy boots off and get in here now!"
She stormed into the house, and I sighed and slid off my boots, leaving them on the porch, before I made my way inside. Marla was already waiting in the kitchen, and she rapped me sharply over the head with a wooden spoon; I flinched.
"Get to work."
"But—" I made to protest, but she cut me off with narrowed eyes.
"What did you just say to me?"
'Uh oh.'
I swallowed. "But?"
This was rewarded by another hit with the spoon, this time on my cheek. When she pulled her arm back, I raised my own to gingerly touch my cheek.
"I'm sorry," I gritted out, ignoring the stinging pain on my cheek. "I'll get to work now."
"You better," Marla told me furiously, before she waved the spoon in my face one last time and left the room. I sighed again, but got to cooking.
When I was finished, I was sent straight to my room for "back-talking" without any of the dinner I had prepared, and Dean had came in not even twenty minutes ago and eaten it all, like usual. So, now I'm laying in my bedroom, staring blankly at the ceiling as I think.
You'd think I'd have had friends at one point, right? Wrong. Even as a kid, I was always a bit of a dreamer and the others thought I was too weird to play with; now, the others thought I was just some sort of loner freak who hated people. Which, this was pretty true, but sometimes…
Sometimes it isn't fun being alone. Especially not for as long as I have. No friends, no family to speak of, not even a dog; just me. Just me, left alone for years with people like Dean and Marla Kidd, who were in it just for the check and didn't care about their charge at all.
That's one reason why I write so much, as I said; to escape. I escape to a different world where I make the rules, and where I have friends who care about me, no matter how imaginary they are. If Luke and Lyra were here, I'd never have to worry about being lonely again.
I rolled onto my side and hugged my pillow tightly, feeling considerably upset. Why me?
I could feel my eyelids begin to droop, and in my lethargic state, I was barely able to finish my last thought before I drifted off.
I wish they were real.
