Sneak Peek!
I don't know if I should do this but, ah well. By the way, I copied this "format" from Armageddon Child, so yeah credits to him/her.
RAC is more serious than and not as funny as 38DC, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Reviews are loved! (Over there! Haha.) By the way, it has already been uploaded with more than one chapter already.
Rising Above Challenges: Chapter 1
Max gets sent to an orphanage after her parents passed away. There, she meets a strange band of kids not unlike her and soon they become the best of friends. Then Jeb Batchelder appears and everything goes downhill after that. But Max is determined to rise above the challenge, and how far is she willing to go for her friends? Very.
When they told me Mum and Dad died, I didn't shed a tear. I didn't even feel anything at all. It was just as if someone had told me that I had chocolate smeared on my mouth, or that there was going to be a football match later on in the afternoon. If they thought that I was going to cry my heart out, they were wrong.
The reason was kind of simple, actually. It was because my parents didn't care. I was nothing to them. I was just another fly on the wall, another mosquito buzzing around their heads. They treated me like a freak and if they even talked about me, it was as if I wasn't there.
And they brought me to the School.
So what if they died? It was still the same, or better yet, an improvement to my life.
So basically that's how I ended up here, holding Dr. Martinez's and gazing wide-eyed at the woman in front of me. The orphanage was huge and in shambles, but it looked welcoming and homey. There was a small playground at the back – sandbox and all, and I could hear happy shouts and somewhere in the distance a dog was barking.
"Hi honey, I'm Anne Walker," the woman introduced herself not unkindly. "There're many kids like you over here, and you can make many friends. You'll be really happy here," she promised. I nodded but I doubted her. Many kids like me? In terms of the existence of our parents, then yeah. But not like me.
"Valencia Martinez," Dr. Martinez said and held her hand out. Anne shook it. "Max's parents passed away in a terrible accident a few weeks ago," Dr. Martinez explained to Anne. "We have had a lot of paperwork to sort out."
"I'm so sorry," Anne said sincerely. "So, Max, am I right?"
I nodded. Anne turned to Dr. Martinez.
"Full name?"
"Max – " I cut Dr. Martinez off.
"Maximum Ride," I interrupted. That was the name I gave myself. I didn't like my old name. And I didn't want anything that could remind me of my parents.
"But isn't your name – "
"It's Maximum Ride. Max." I looked at her and clenched my fist that wasn't in Dr. Martinez's hand into a tiny ball. Anne opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Dr. Martinez interrupted her.
"Please, she's just really upset and has gone through a terrible loss. Go easy on her. She's just ten, Ms. Walker," Dr. Martinez said to Anne, in hope that she would understand. Anne smiled wryly.
"And here we have orphans here who are as young as two, Dr. Martinez," Anne said to her in a matter-of-fact tone.
"But you see, two is too young to understand. Ten, however, is an age where children can actually grasp the reality of it all." Anne nodded understandingly. She leaned down and looked me in the eye.
"So, should I call you Maximum? Or Max?"
"Max. Just Max," I said with a tone of finality. Anne laughed gently.
"You are quite the feisty one, aren't you?" she stated. It wasn't really a question, I could tell. She smiled wryly.
"What's feisty?" I asked. Anne laughed again. I couldn't get what she was laughing about. Was she really happy about something? "Why are you laughing?"
"You know what you remind me of?" Anne asked me, totally ignoring my question. I glared at her for not answering me.
"What?" I asked rudely.
"Me when I was your age," she said and smiled. She stood up straight and started interrogating Dr. Martinez. I badly wanted to ask Dr. Martinez what feisty meant but I didn't want to interrupt their conversation. That was one lesson that my parents had taught me the hard way – do not barge in when adults are talking.
"Age?" Anne said briskly, in a business-like tone. "Ten, was it?"
"Yes, ten," Dr. Martinez said.
"Any important medical illnesses or allergies?"
"None. The rest of the information is in the file here. Date of birth and all that." Dr. Martinez handed a file to Anne.
"Excellent. Alright then, Max, you can get settled in Room Magnolia. There's an empty bed there. I'd bring her up myself, but there're a few other kids waiting outside." It was a clear dismissal.
Dr. Martinez tugged my hand and we walked up the stairs through the hallway, looking for Room Magnolia. We didn't meet anyone on the way up, and from the noise coming from outside, everyone was probably playing at the mini-playground.
It was in the middle of the second story of the three-story building. A picture of a magnolia flower was taped to the door. Taped to the doors of neighbouring rooms were pictures of other flowers. Room named after flowers. How… nice?
"Room Magnolia," Dr. Martinez said. We were standing outside the door. She handed me my duffel bag. I took it with a word of thanks and put it on the floor. It was light – there wasn't much in it.
"Good luck, Max," Dr. Martinez said to me. That was when I realized what was about to happen.
"Don't go," I begged. "Why can't I stay with you? I want to stay with you."
She smiled at me kindly.
"Max, you'll be happy here. You'll make lots of new friends and maybe you can get over the loss of your parents," Dr. Martinez reasoned.
"What about the chocolate-chip cookies? You always bake them the best," I asked as a last-ditch attempt to convince her not to leave me at the orphanage.
"They have chocolate-chip cookies here too. I'll ask Ms. Walker to get some for you. For all you know, they could actually be better than mine," Dr. Martinez said. She smiled at me sadly. "I'll be back to check on you soon, don't worry."
"Is it because you don't want me?" I asked, my tone slightly accusatory, as the thought entered my mind. The orphanage – a place to dump all the unwanted kids. Was that it?
"Of course not!" she replied indignantly. "Where did you even get that thought? You are the sweetest, wittiest and funniest little girl I've ever known."
"Then why did you put me in here?" Dr. Martinez looked at me sadly.
"You won't understand, Max. You're just too young." I looked at her forlornly. "I'm so sorry, Max," Dr. Martinez said, and kissed me on the cheek. "I'm so, so sorry. Good luck. I'll think of you every day."
And with that, she left. I stared at the empty hallway, hearing her footsteps fade into the distance. Dr. Martinez was by far the closest to a family I've ever felt. And now she was gone.
"Bye," I whispered.
I stood there for a few minutes, just staring into space. Sighing heavily, I grabbed my duffel bag, turned around, and entered my new room. It was painted a cheery yellow, and there were three beds in the room and a single dark brown wooden dresser. The room was small, but it felt comfortable and, well, homey. I walked to the only unoccupied bed that was near the window and dumped my bag there. I sat on the bed beside my bag and started swinging my legs. Then I lay down experimentally. The bed felt comfortable enough.
I walked over to the dresser with my bag and started to unpack. I didn't have much, just a few pieces of clothing, a card I stole from my father's pocket, a picture of my family and a notebook and pen. Dr. Martinez had given me the notebook and pen. She told me that it could be an "outlet for any suppressed feelings" that I didn't want to share with anybody else. I had no idea what that meant and I hadn't opened it.
I looked at my family picture. My parents were sitting on a chair, and I was propped on my mother's lap. I had been about five years old then. It looked so… fake. The smiles plastered on my parent's faces – fake. The black hair on my father's head – fake. The jewelry adorned on my mother – fake. In fact, the only real thing was probably the expression on my face. I was wrinkling my nose in disgust, probably at the strong smell of my mother's perfume and father's cologne. I sighed. I didn't need a reminder of a horrible past.
I stood up, went to the window, and hurled the picture out as hard as possible.
Well, that was one piece of trash taken care of.
The dresser composed of three drawers. I opened the first one and found it full clothes that were either black or dark blue. Mostly black. I closed it immediately. The second drawer contained an assortment of clothes belonging to another guy. It was more general than the first. The third drawer was empty, and I claimed it as my own.
Looks like I would be sharing Room Magnolia with two guys. I hoped that they would be fun and not snotty like the kids in my neighbourhood.
"Is this yours?" I jumped and whipped around to see a boy about my age dressed in black standing a few feet away from me. He was extremely good looking – he had black eyes, dark hair and olive skin. He was obviously one of my roommates – the one who had all the black clothes.
Of course it doesn't end here, but the rest of the chapter is under the real RAC! :D I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for accompanying me throughout 38 DC. I had fun. Review one last time?
I'll miss writing this story.
But when one journey ends, another begins.
-alexa35
"Here's a freebie: Don't play poker with a kid who can read minds."
-Max: The Final Warning
-FINIS-