Wednesday, January 2, 2013
I just wanted to apologize for my crappy upkeep of this blog. I don't update as often as i should, and i feel really bad about that. I should update a LOT more, but i can't find the inspiration in me to do so. I made a promise to a friend of mine that i was going to update soon, and i feel terrible for not keeping that. But I will try to find my writing muse again and update these stories for you.
Hopefully see you soon my lovies<3
-Fly On- (Stolen from Maximum Ride xD)
I just wanted to apologize for my crappy upkeep of this blog. I don't update as often as i should, and i feel really bad about that. I should update a LOT more, but i can't find the inspiration in me to do so. I made a promise to a friend of mine that i was going to update soon, and i feel terrible for not keeping that. But I will try to find my writing muse again and update these stories for you.
Hopefully see you soon my lovies<3
-Fly On- (Stolen from Maximum Ride xD)
Monday, September 17, 2012
Sephera’s breath whooshed from her body as a blow hit her spine. She spun to face her attacker. The boy dressed in all white, opposite of her attire, and silvery hair fell in front of his eyes. He has two swords in an X across his back and a bright ribbon tied around his head. His bright blue eyes pierced into Sephera’s deep red ones as he crouched low. She mimicked his position and blew her long, pitch-black hair from her face. It flowed down to her hips and she wished as had tied it into a braid before she left the house. Her gun belt felt heavy on her waist and her fingers desired the familiar feeling of the trigger. But she shoved the desire down and reached behind her back to pull her long, thin sword from its case. The boy did the same, pulling out both of his swords. She waited for him, calculating the fairness of the fight. He lunged.
Sephera quickly blocked his advance and spun around. She stuck at his side but he blocked it as easily as she had. Once again, he attacked, this time with a little more force, but she still blocked it. She kept her expression calm as this pattern continued, neither landing a hit. Then, she was taken by surprise. He lashed out with one sword, which was quickly blocked, but then did the same with his second. It cut her right side, directly under the ribcage, and stung badly. Black blood oozed from the wound. Her gaze snapped back up at the boy, her eyes blazing a fiery red as he danced back a few steps.
Feeling a roar building up inside her, Sephera fought to keep it contained. She was able to do so until he smirked. The roar echoed through the clearing and the thick forest beyond as her body morphed, changed, shifted. Her arms shortened, her body grew, her neck lengthened, a tail sprouted from her body, and wings extended from her back.
The boy shook his head, unfazed. “Sephera, the goal of this was to try NOT to shift into your dragon form!” he exclaimed. She blew a breath from her large nostrils as he approached her. She ducked her head down and he softly stroked her scaled neck. Her underside’s scales were a soft gray while her top scaled were a harsh black that tinted purple in the sun. The boy who stood before her, her best friend for the 15 years of her life, Cirrus, could also shift into a dragon. They were the only two. His scales were a rich white that had a gold tint on the edges. Many thought of the two as polar opposites, like Yin and Yang. And yet, we were-and still are-best friends. Ever since about 15 years ago.
Nobody knows who my parents are, not even me. Now, at age 16, things are slightly different. Cirrus and I learned of our powers the night of our 14th birthday. Mine was April 10th while Cirrus’ was December 10th of the year before. Well, we think that’s my birthday. The day of Cirrus’ first birthday was when they found me, and his mother told me I looked to be about 6 months old. Thus, my birth date was born. Cirrus and I always found it ironic that my half birthday is his birthday, and vice versa.
Cirrus’ doorbell rang through his house, and his mother was forced to turn her attention from the year-old boy so she could answer the door. When the wooden door creaked open, nobody was to be seen. Sheltered from the light rain by the porch roof, Cirrus’ mother stepped out of the doorway. A light cry came from the ground in front of her feet, and her gaze shot down to see a small baby-maybe half a year old. Her face softened as the child, even though quite young, cried out for its mother. The nearly crying woman leaned down, picking up the small being. The baby girl had soft black waves of hair and pale, flawless skin. Tears threatened to leak out of her dark, obsidian eyes and her rosy bottom lip trembled.
Cirrus’ mother looked around, searching once again for whoever left the baby girl on her porch. There wasn’t a trace of anyone. As she cooed to the girl in her arms, she turned and entered the house. Her year old son, Cirrus, was standing curiously in the living room and his eyes brightened when he saw the small girl in his mother’s arms. He immediately rushed to his mother, nearly tripping over himself in the process. The girl’s eyes were on him as well, the same spark lighting them as Cirrus’.
Cirrus wouldn’t allow his mother to put little me up for adoption. They took me in, raised me, and Cirrus’ father worked double time so his wife could take a break from work. I felt bad about making this happen starting around age eleven, but they reassured me so many times that it was worth it that I started believing them.
As soon as Cirrus and I entered his-I mean, our back door, his mom was there. She immediately ushered me to the nearby bathroom, handing me a fresh red tank top. I changed into it, after she bandaged my side lightly to stop the scar from reopening. Once I was done, I pulled off my boots, placing them by the door, and padded upstairs to the room Cirrus and I share-believe it or not. His mother-oh, her name’s Amelia-offered me a room as I got older, but Cirrus declined for me and we turned “my” room into a music studio.
Knocking a shot rhythm to let Cirrus know it was me, I slowly opened the white door spray-painted with the words “STAY OUT, WE BITE” in bold black letters. I walked in since I heard no protest from my roommate, and did an instinctual scan of our awesome room. Two walls were white, two black, and the furniture matched. My closet, dresser, desk, bedside table, bookcase, iPod player, and alarm clock were black while Cirrus’ were white. We had a huge window opposite the door, and our twin beds were pushed together against the same wall as the door. My possessions, personal bathroom, and closet were to the right of the door, my roomie’s were to the left, past the bed. The bedding was a mix of black and white, while the top blanket draped across both beds was a yin yang design. I swear, the bed was the size of a queen bed.
Cirrus was seated at his desk, hunched over whatever he was working on. To not disturb him, I quietly shut our door behind me and padded to my bathroom. I was in dire need of a shower. Even though it was only my bathroom, I locked the door. With only a quick glance in the mirror to ensure my state of filthiness wasn’t just a feeling, I stripped of my clothes to turn on the hot water and step into the spray. The water rinsed off dirt, massaged my sore muscles, and soothed my mind of any thoughts. Washing my long hair and rubbing the soap into my scalp felt so much better. It made me wish Cirrus didn’t flush his toilet the moment I was done rinsing my hair and shaving my legs.
See, whenever one of us flushed our toilet, the other’s water (shower or sink) went icy until the toilet was done. Both of us knew that. So, you could imagine my anger as I yelped, shut off the freezing water, and wrapped a towel around my body. I yanked the door open and glared at the teen sitting on his side of the bed looking at me with false innocence on his face. Gritting my teeth together, I eventually spoke.
“You know the water goes cold when you flush Cirrus,” I spat. He tilted his head as though he was confused.
“Do I?” he asked as an egotistical smirk twitched his lips. His eyes widened as I picked up a book and hurled it at his head. With the speed it flew, Cirrus barely had time to duck his head so the book smacked the headboard of his bed. He chuckled. “Okay, so I know. I’m sorry, I was getting bored and wanted the company of my best friend.” I sighed, shaking my head. He was always great at making my anger disappear.
After I got dressed, dried and brushed my hair, and brushed my teeth, I walked back into the room. Cirrus was now laying on the bed, bouncing a tennis ball off the ceiling. How brilliant. I laid down beside him, my left side against his, and I snagged the ball from his hands to toss it to a random corner of the room. We quickly turned to face each other, inches between us, waiting for the other to speak. A random thought crossed my mind.
“What are we having for dinner?” I asked. Cirrus shrugged.
“Mom is going to the clinic”-did I mention she’s a nurse?-“so I’m taking you out,” he told me.
“Do I have a-“
“No,” he cut me off, causing me to roll my eyes. He laughed and I couldn’t help but smile. His laugh and smile were just infectious.
We talked about everything and anything for what seemed like forever. Finally, we stopped when an alarm rang from Cirrus’ pocket. I arched a brow as he pulled his iPhone from his pocket and slid his finger across the screen to quiet the alarm. He looked up at me with a crooked smile and asked, “Ready for our date?”
Let’s just say, I nearly choked on my own spit.
Cirrus’ arm was locked around my waist as we approached the restaurant. It wasn’t an unusual thing for him to do anymore. He started doing it when we were 14, stopping whenever he had a girlfriend and continuing when they broke up. I wouldn’t stop him if I had a boyfriend, which he seemed happy with. I told whoever it was to deal with it or break up with my. 7 of them stayed, the other 3 were idiots.
I had my 1st boyfriend, if you could even call him that, at age 12. He asked me out, kissed my cheek when I accepted, and then came up to me after school that day with a black eye and a break up on his lips. To this day, I don’t know who gave him the black eye. I’m not sure I care anymore, since Cirrus and I had been home schooled as of our powers revealing themselves. So things like that didn’t matter, to me at least. I can’t speak for Cirrus.
I didn’t catch the name of the restaurant before Cirrus had whisked me inside. Candlelit tables, twinkly lights, roses, a fresh scent, the whole romantic aura. Why did he take me here of all places? The early-20s woman standing at the front desk gave us a look of longing as we approached her.
“Sky for two,” Cirrus said with a charming smile. The lady nodded as I tried not to laugh at the name Cirrus had given her, and then grabbed two menus and a specials paper. She led us to our table, which ended up being out on a deck. Other than the candles, there was no light, the stars twinkling far above.
The classroom erupted into applause when I finished. All the faces mirrored my own bright smile and their eyes sparkled with lasting impression. Ms. Greenfeld clapped loudly. “Brava Blair! Brava! That was truly stunning. Now class. Class!” All attention returned to her, so I quickly sat down. Zane eventually let go of my hand, and a deep part of me wanted him not to. “So, I wanted to inform you on what this year is going to be like. You will have a partner for a duet project, two partners for a harmony project, multiple partners for a band project that will have a special reward and presentation, then we will attempt for the first time to put on or at the very least assist in putting on a school musical!” Everyone cheered once she was done, and all of us were almost bouncing in anticipation. “Now, you are free for the rest of the period. Go!”
Suddenly, a swarm of students engulfed me. The hum of everyone talking at the same time commenced, and my head pounded. A gentle hand gripped my forearm, - seriously, what it up with people and dragging me today? – whisking me away. I looked at the hand’s owner to see Ms. Greenfeld. She led me to a beautiful black wood piano, sitting on the bench and looking up at me.
“Who taught you to sing like that?” she asked.
“I’m completely self-taught,” I admitted. She looked shocked.
“Wow. Amazing. Do you play an instruments as well?”
I looked at my feet, a blush creeping up my neck. “Guitar, bass, drums, and piano.”
“Self-taught as well?” I nodded, finally looking back up to see her astounded smile. “How did you…?”
“I had a lot of free time you could say.”
Ms. Greenfeld nodded, that bright smile still on her face. Then, her smile turned slightly suspicious. “So… you and Zane?”
I laughed, but a blush still warmed my face. “What about us?”
“Are you two going out?” she sounded genuinely curious.
“No! We’re just friends,” I quickly denied.
At my answer, she frowned. “But you like each other, right?”
Once again, my gaze was locked on my feet. “We just met each other a few hours ago.”
“That’s not-” the teacher was interrupted by a voice calling my name. My head snapped to see Nate at the door. My eyebrows drew together as I excused myself from Ms. Greenfeld and walked over.
“Why are you here?” I hissed. He faked hurt, then grinned.
“The office wants you to come in.”
“Oh,” I muttered. I looked back at Ms. Greenfeld. She nodded, but gestured for me to look to the right of her. I looked to see Zane. He was watching us carefully, his face stoic. For a moment, I was going to send him a smile, but I noticed his gaze wasn’t actually on me, but on the teen standing behind me. Why was it that the two seemed mad at each other when they were perfectly fine before? Before I came, they were like brothers! …Did I do something?
Nate snapped me from my reverie by lightly laying his hand on my arm. Seriously, way too many people touched that same arm so far today. I looked over to him, nodding at his expectant face, and following as he whisked me away. The halls were empty, silent other than the sound of our footsteps. Echoing in the hall, our steps seemed as loud as thunder. Neither of us talked, but the silence wasn’t too awkward. Just a little bit. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Nate opening his mouth as though he was going to say something but quickly shutting it again. I tried to hide a smile. He was completely at a loss for words. Apparently, I didn’t hide my smile very well.
“What’re ya smiling about?” Nate asked. His voice rang through the halls with our footsteps.
I shook my head. “Oh, nothing,” I told him, smiling the littlest bit more.
He nudged my shoulder with his. “Come on. Tell me.”
Quickly, I wracked my brain for an excuse, “Vocal IV was just really fun.”
All of a sudden, Nate’s face darkened. “Have fun with Zane?” he practically spat the name.
My eyebrows drew together. “Yeah, I did. What’s up with you two?”
He brightened his face, but it looked as fake as it was. “Nothing. Just a little rough bit, like brothers.” I nodded even though I didn’t believe it at all. The tone of voice he said that in just screamed false. Not to mention, his smile looked forced, like he wasn’t actually happy.
Soon enough we reached the wooden door with the plain blue font reading “OFFICE”. I almost groaned at the sight alone. Nate opened the door for me, his charming smile once again in place. With a wary glance his way, I walked past him into the office. Multiple people sat at computers on the other side of a desk in the middle of the room. There were multiple doors leading to the nurse’s, VP’s, and principal’s offices.
One woman with short red hair, a splash of freckles, and brown eyes looked up with a relieved smile. She must have been happy to stop typing for even a short while. She flexed her fingers as if they were sore.
“Blair, right?” she asked. I nodded and she gestured for me to follow her. Nate started to follow, but the woman waved him off. He took a seat in on of the padded chairs by the door as I continued with to a back room labeled “Storage”. She quickly flipped the light on so it illuminated the small area. Many boxes with different last names as labels were stacked on top of each other on shelves, but my suitcase and my soft material bag were on the ground at the end of the closet. I looked to the woman with a questioning gaze.
“We need you to find another place to put these. A teacher has boxes to store, and this is where we need to put them,” she informed me. As I nodded, my mind raced to think of a place I could put the,. Not one popped into my mind. The lady nudged me so I walked forward, pulled the handle of my suitcase up, and positioned the strap of my soft bad comfortably over my shoulder. Then, I walked back to Nate, a thank you from the woman caressing my ears with a sweet tone.
Nate raised an eyebrow at the luggage I now had. I gave him the “don’t ask” look, so he changed the subject. “Do you need an escort back to class?” he offered. I contemplated over my answer.
If I said yes, I definitely wouldn’t get lost. There was no doubt to that. Plus, I would get more time with him. He was really sweet, and a complete gentleman. Not to mention easy to talk to. At the same time, something about him made me uneasy. I just didn’t know what.
“No, I’m fine,” I found myself saying. He respected my decision and backed off, saying goodbye. Just as he did, I left, though a tad clumsier. Let’s just say going through doors with that luggage is NOT easy. Once I finally figured that mess out, I walked quite slow on my way back to music. I don’t know how long it took, but all I accomplished was tripping, running myself over with my suitcase, and numerous other fails. As soon as I was visible through the large glass window beside the door, I felt a gaze burning a hole in my head. Immediately, I looked up to see an expressionless Zane. I waved, causing his face to relax as he walked over to the door and proceeded to open it for me. I nodded in thanks, and then I felt a tug on my suitcase. My gaze snapped over to my hand as it tightened its grip on the handle. A tan hand was lightly gripping it as well, and my eyes trailed up the strong arm to the plain black t-shirt, to the strong jaw to the full lips and up to the golden eyes. They showed curiosity and a spark of confusion. Yet they were warm, like melted gold. My hand slowly opened, letting go. Zane smiled very softly, taking my suitcase into the music room. All the students that cared to notice had matching expressions of confusion. I followed Zane to Ms. Greenfeld, whose eyebrows were raised as she watched our approach.
“May we be excused in order to bring these bags to a safe place?” Zane politely asked before our teacher could utter a sound. Her eyebrows drew together at the question.
“Is she unable to do it herself Zane?” she replied with a question of her own. Zane chuckled.
“Is it wrong to fear for the safety of a beautiful girl walking alone?” he shot back. My cheeks heated. He was the first male to call me something apart from hot or sexy. Ms. Greenfeld smiled when she glanced at my flushed state.
“Alright. I’ll give you passes for being late to your next class.” And that is exactly what she did. Next thing I knew, I was walking with Zane towards the front of the school. Although, I didn’t know why. My legs moved quickly passed each other as I raced to keep up with Zane’s longer stride. The rolling of my suitcase was the loudest sound.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked, almost panting.
“The parking lot,” he answered nonchalantly. His answer almost made me freeze. The parking lot? Like, the place my parents dropped my off? Great. Cause I totally wanted to go back there. For about 5 minutes we walked, and then we were exiting the front doors of the school. A large lot of cars were laid out before us, and I scanned my eyes across them all. How could the students possibly pick out their own car from all the rest? It seemed impossible, but Zane gently took my hand in his as he pulled me the right direction. I could feel my face heating up already.
Zane finally stopped in front of a sleek black convertible that had the top opened up. I must have looked like a gaping fish with my wide eyes and open mouth. Zane chuckled as he put his rough fingers on my chin and shut my mouth. My face heated up even more than before when Zane’s fingers lingered slightly more than necessary.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Alright, I apologize for not updating in awhile, but here's the next few pages of my story. PLEASE comment, critique, etc. But no flames!
“Kendra!” the brown haired girl scolded. The blonde, Kendra, apologized quickly as her face fell. I brushed it off as the teen next to me introduced everyone. “As you now know, that’s Kendra,” he started, pointing to the blonde who was now smiling brightly as she waved enthusiastically. Then, he pointed to the brown haired girl. “That’s Arianna, though she prefers Ana. Next is Callum,” he gestured to the boy next to Kendra. The teen sitting next to Ana stood, holding his hand out.
“I’m Nate,” he told me with a wink. Thanks to reading magazines, I knew he was flirting with me. Blushing lightly, I shook his hand. He flashed a bright smile my way as he released my hand. I felt more than saw the teen next to me tense up. Once again, he put his hand on my arm to lead me away. His grip was harsher though. Everyone called his or her farewells as I was dragged off.
Then teen stopped once we reached a shady area. We couldn’t hear anyone talking from this distance, so they couldn’t hear us.
“What was that? Why’d you drag me away?” I asked, incredulous. His hair hung in front of his eyes as he responded.
“I wanted to introduce myself.”
“And you couldn’t have-” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Alright, go ahead.”
He held his hand out in a calm manner. “I’m Zane.”
Interesting name… “Blair,” I reply, shaking his slightly calloused hand. Static electricity hit my hand, and we both pulled back.
Little did I know that little spark I felt was not related to static in the slightest.
Zane cleared his throat, looking almost nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So… do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
I read about them in a magazine once so I knew what they were. Sighing, I shook my head. One of Zane’s eyebrows shot up, so I guessed everyone had a cell phone nowadays. My shoulders raised in a shrug as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Okay. Where are you and your family staying?” he asked. I looked down, trying not to think about how my parents just dropped me off.
“I don’t know,” I finally answered. Zane looked confused.
“How do you not know?”
“My parents… I ran away,” I lied only because I had to. He couldn’t know the truth.
Zane nodded. “You, umm, need a place to stay for awhile? My parents are going out of town tonight for… I don’t really know how long.”
At first, I was thrilled. I had a good place to stay! Then came the hesitation. Two teens, different genders, alone in a house. Would he try something?
He must have seen the look in my eyes because he raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t do anything. I wont even touch you,” and then he smirked. “Unless you want me to,” he finished, winking at me.
I chuckled, shaking my head and lightly shoving his shoulder. He laughed along with me, and I accepted his offer for a place to stay. Our heads snapped up as the bell rang. For a moment, we watched the different groups mix into a large crowd headed different ways. Then Zane offered his hand to me, since I had fallen due to laughing so hard. A smile graced my face as I took it, standing up. To my disappointment, he let go once I was balanced. Both of us walked, in a comfortable silence, to music class. I was surprised he had this class, but went with it and entered the room for the 2nd time today.
The teacher looked up as we entered. She had black hair that was just starting to turn silver and flowed to her shoulders. Her blue eyes met mine with a friendly smile. I ducked my head, about to go to the back when Zane grabbed my arm. I had to resist growling at him as he led me to the teacher.
“Hello Blair, I’m Ms. Greenfeld. It’s a pleasure to meet the one who broke into my classroom.” The weird thing? She was genuinely nice the whole time she talked.
I bit my bottom lip as Zane silently laughed. “Busted,” he mouthed to me. I sent him a quick glare as Ms. Greenfeld laughed softly. “It’s alright. Just ask me for the key next time.” I quickly nodded. “You’re an amazing musician Blair, so I trust you have a passion for music and wont damage this studio. You may go to a seat.”
Zane led me to two seats apart from the others. Once we were seated, our teacher began to speak.
“Alright students. I recognize you all from previous years, except for one. As you all know, we have a new student. She just enrolled into this school. Blair, stand for a moment.” When I did so, I felt eyes raking over me. “Just like all of you, she is going to sing a song for us instead of a plain ol’ introduction.” My eyes widened. Sing? For people older than me that I don’t even know?Let me explain. Vocal IV is a class for seniors. Very few juniors get in, because they have to try out and meet certain requirements since they have not had vocal class all 3 full years. I honestly don’t know how I got in, since I didn’t even audition. Sure, I’m a good singer and I enjoy singing for people I know. People I don’t know? No thanks. So terror shot through my veins when Ms. Greenfeld said that, but my head still nodded. I must have looked like a deer in headlights. Going to sit on the stool at the front of the classroom, Ms. Greenfeld watched me as I mentally prepared myself. All eyes were on me. I felt a warm pressure on my left hand, and trailed my eyes down my arm to see Zane taking my hand in his. Encouragement shone in his eyes, and I felt better. My gaze calmly met Ms. Greenfeld’s again, and I sang.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Alright, here's the next part of my book. Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment or critique!
In physics and calculus, I didn’t pay attention. There were too many terms they didn’t review, so I didn’t understand them. Square root? Variable? Exponent? God, I didn’t even know what those are. I was able to pay attention in English though. The extremely nice female teacher was reviewing how to correctly write a multiple page research paper because in a few weeks English and physics would be teamed up for the essay. It was really fascinating to learn how to put ideas, facts, and opinions together into a structured literal work of art. I was nearly bouncing with anticipation for the opportunity to write my own essay. Everyone else seemed annoyed or agitated which I did not understand.
After English came physical education or P.E. I walked through the gym doors into the empty ‘court’. Only the coach stood in the gymnasium since all the students were changing into their gym uniforms. I walked up to him and cautiously looked him over.
Dressed in gym shorts and a wife beater, he looked like an average P.E. teacher… I think. He had a lanyard around his neck with a whistle and a few keys on the end. Also, good running sneakers were covering his feet and black sunglasses covered his eyes. He looked up from his clipboard and soft chestnut hair fell in front of the glasses. I had to admit, he was cute for a teacher, and he was probably around twenty or so.
He cleared his throat. “Hey… Blair is it?” he asked. I nodded and he let out a breath. “I’m Mr. Johnson, but I have people call me Coach J.”
Once again I nodded and he motioned for me to sit on the bleachers closest to the doors leading into the hallways. I did so and slowly, students emerged from the locker rooms-mainly boys-and stood in groups that varied in size. A teen in a far corner caught my attention. His dark black hair fell grazed over his eyes that you could tell were gold from miles away. Tanned skin stretched over lean muscles and he stood tall, around 6 feet. To me, he looked like a runner. An extremely attractive runner. And I guess others found him attractive too since girls were crowded around him. Yet, his golden orbs met mine. False green versus stunning gold.
I looked away, down at my hands that were rested on my lap. Then, Coach J’s voice thundered through the gym.
“Students! Line up!” he boomed. All the class scampered into a horizontal line parallel to the bleachers across from where I was sitting (thank you calculus for teaching me things). “Alright. Today Mrs. B is using the field for her class.” The students made noises of disappointment. “Oh relax. That means we are playing… dodge ball!”
Suddenly, the boys and a few girls busted into an uproar of cheering. I raised an eyebrow at their enthusiasm. What could be so amazing about dodge ball to cause this kind of reaction?
Coach J split the class up into two halves and they stood against opposite walls. The girls looked slightly nervous while the boys looked determined. My gaze slid to the golden-eyed teen. His eyes were locked on the red rubber balls being placed on the middle line. His hand was flat against the wall and the rest of his body looked ready to sprint. All of the muscles in his body were tensed and prepared. Unwillingly, a soft smile had spread across my face.
I was snapped out of my trancelike state when Coach blew the whistle. Most of the teens sprinted to the center in attempt to get a ball, except for the girls who were afraid to break a nail. That included the one who rubbed on me this morning. A shiver ran up my spine and my body shuddered. I wrapped my arms around myself slightly as I continued to watch the class purposefully slam each other.
“Why are you hiding under your hood Blair?” Coach J’s voice said next to me, causing me to jump. I looked over at him and noticed he was sitting right next to me, a few inches away. My heart pounded. I was not accustomed to being so close to people.
I shrugged and he sent me a look. “Fine then. Take it off,” he told me, tugging on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I shook me head and stood up. He sighed heavily and then said, “You can go to your next class if you’d like. But go to lunch when the bell rings.”
Quickly, I nodded and walked out of the gym. As I did, the hair on the back of my neck prickled and I held back the urge to turn around to look at the person watching me exit. I walked to he music room to find it empty and locked. My head hung as I sighed, then I decided on a solution. First, I checked for watchers or passing people, but I found no one. Secondly, I lowered my hood and sighed in relief as my hair once again flowed past my waist. Then, I took the barrette out of my hair, letting my bangs out, and picked the lock. As the door swung open I stepped in and switched on the light. What I saw made me smile.
The room-which was almost the size of the gym-had black carpeting and a deep red padding on the walls for better acoustics. Guitars of different genres, shapes, and sizes hung from hooks on the walls while pianos, drums, violins, etc were on the ground or on shelves. Everything was well spaced out and microphones or recording cameras were placed throughout the room. Warmth flowed through the atmosphere and I took off my sweatshirt altogether, throwing it by the door. I walked to an acoustic guitar and picked it up. Strumming a few chords to warm up my fingers, I cleared my throat. My fingers changed to start playing “All I Wanted” by Paramore, one of my favorite bands. Then, my voice rang through the air.
My father always told me I had a beautiful voice, that it was smooth as silk but could have as much power as a tiger. Mother agreed with him. As I sang, my hair waved around me and my eyes itched to be free of the contacts. Never once did my voice break or my throat itch, not even hitting the high notes. My eyes closed as I felt power building in me, a feeling I always got with music. When my fingers strummed the last notes, my eyes opened. I yelped.
The gold-eyed hottie was leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes closed. His posture was relaxed, as if he was falling asleep. He had the slightest bit of sweat on the back of his neck so I guessed he really got into dodge ball. At the sound of my yelp, his eyes opened and his gaze once again met mine. I couldn’t help but suck in a breath as my heart skipped a beat. That gold was just mesmerizing. He walked over, holding my gaze, and stood in front of me. I calmed my expression, raising an eyebrow, and he cleared his throat.
“Coach sent me to tell you that the lunch bell is-“ his deep, slightly roughened voice was cut off by the bell ringing. “about to ring,” he finished. I gave him a smile, nodding, and put the guitar back on its hook. As I did so, the boy opened the door and gestured for me to exit first. I walked out and he shut the door after turning off the lights. I frowned as the room was drowned in darkness. The warm feeling of homeliness disappeared completely, leaving me once again with the empty, drifting feeling I had before.
“You coming?” the boy’s voice snapped me from my thoughts. I looked over to him, seeing him looking over his shoulder at me from down the hall. I nodded, jogging up to him. He handed me something soft and I looked to see my sweatshirt in my hand.
“Thanks,” I said softly and he shrugged, blowing it off. We walked side by side to the lunchroom and he didn’t make any comment to shoo me off, so I stuck around. As he grabbed his lunch from the food court, I looked around. Blue tables were spaced out around the room and there were more outside in the sun. Different groups sat at different tables, though most to all gazes were on me. I ducked my head, my bangs falling into my face. I quickly returned to the boy’s side and he glanced at me for a moment. People’s gazes practically burned through my body and I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. Suddenly, a wolf-whistle rang through the air of the cafeteria. More immediately followed it.
The boy’s head snapped around so fast I thought he would get whiplash. I bit my lip, and he put a hand around my elbow. He led me from the building and to the outside tables hastily. He led me to a table where four teens were already sitting. The first was a female who looked to be in our grade. She had chestnut hair that waved just below her shoulders in choppy layers. Her forest green eyes were completely visible, untouched by bangs or anything of the sort and her pale complexion was untouched, almost like a porcelain doll.
Sitting beside her with his arm over her shoulders was the teen I had seen girls giggling at this morning. This time he had brushed his blondish brown hair away from his light hazel eyes. He also had a pale tone to his skin, just the slightest bit paler than the girl’s. But he looked as though he couldn’t get a tan while the girl looked as though she could get some color. Next, the girl I had seen this morning was sitting under the arm of a guy across from the pair. A sea blue streak covered the blonde bangs that fell above her soft brown eyes that had a twinkle in them. The stick straight hair fell down to the middle of her back, reminding me of a waterfall almost. Her skin had a little more color, and freckles were sprinkled across her nose and slightly on her cheeks. She also looked to be in our grade, along with the teen that had his arm over her. He had brown hair that reached his light brown eyebrows. His eyes were a gray color that shined silver in the sun, and I bet the moonlight as well. All in all, they were a very interesting group that I would not have guessed to see.
They all looked our way as we reached the table. All their mouths turned to smiles, except the blonde girl. Her mouth fell open slightly.
“You… you’re a chick!” she exclaimed.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
This is another book I'm writing, though I lost some interest in this one. Please let me know if it's worth continuing!
If you’re reading this, looking for a happily-ever-after romance, put it down now. This isn’t that kind of story. Once you read this, you will have knowledge of a battle that no one knew about or even took note of. If you don’t believe in the supernatural, enjoy this story of the “fake.” But if you do, you will be shocked at this story. There is so much you don’t know about. This knowledge can be used for good or evil, so you may be in danger right now. Use this knowledge wisely…or something may come after you. Right now, if you are thinking that’s just an empty threat, you have no clue how wrong you are.
This is your last chance to turn back and forget about this book completely. Simply close it and walk away. But if you are sucked in to this story already, strap in for the Ride of Hell.
~Nekoda Aurora Nightblade~
“Aura dear, it’s time to wake up for school,” I hear my mother’s calming voice say next to me, breaking me from my sleep haze.
I sit up & look over to my left at my mom. Her long, silky brown hair cascaded in soft waves down her back and her light blue eyes shined brighter in the light of my simple room. I smiled gratefully at her and she headed out. I looked around at my practically empty room and sighed. I had a wood floor and blue walls, a bed, a desk with computer, chair, and bedside table. That was it.
I take a short shower and change into clothes. Blue skinny jeans, a purple V-neck, and brown Ugs plus a black leather jacket. Quickly, I brushed out my smooth black hair to its length of lower back, brushed my already white teeth, and smiled at the girl with deep blue eyes staring back at me in the mirror.
With a fast pace, I walk down the hall of the one-story house into the kitchen and smile at my dad. His black hair seems freshly cut and his hazel eyes are focused on the eggs he’s making. I sneak up behind him and whisper in his ear, “Boo.” He jumps and spins around while I chuckle at his horror-struck expression. When he sees me, he relaxes and smiles, pulling me into a bear hug.
“My little girl is turning 17. You are getting old,” he says.
“You’re one to talk old man,” I reply, pulling out of his hug & grabbing an apple.
“See you after school!” I call behind me as I open the front door.
“Bye Hun!” I hear my mom call as my dad says, “See ya sweetheart!”
I walk to the bus stop a few houses down and it rumbles up, puffing exhaust. I cough and climb in.
“Happy Birthday honey,” my bus driver says.
“Thanks Nana,” I say back. She’s been my driver since elementary, so she’s like a second mom to me. I go and sit at the very back of the empty bus, watching it fill up more and more at every stop. I wait for us to arrive at Zoe Barnum High School, Home of the Tasmanian Devils, which has a small amount of around 1,500 students. It’s not too far from my house in Bayview, California, which has 2,399 people, but a little while. I’m 16, well 17 today, and nearing the end of my junior year. It’s April 10th and we end at very early June or so.
Anyway, the bus finally stopped and I left after everyone, muttering a “see you tomorrow” on my way. When I stepped out, my not-really-friends swarmed and we headed off to class, eyes following us, either with jealousy or want. None of my “friends” knew my birthday because they didn’t care & I think it’s just another year of not dying, what’s so special about that? Only my parents and bus driver knew my birthday.
The first bell rang as I reached my first class and I settled in for a long day of lectures about upcoming tests.
School went by as usual, boring. Finally, the bell rang to leave. I practically ran out of the building and started my long walk home. Thunder rumbled above me and I looked up to see dark clouds. A car honked to my left just as it started pouring rain. I looked over to see Nate, the school jock and “hottest guy in school”, in his flashy sports car.
“Hey hottie,” he calls out. His brown hair looks perfectly dry and his brown eyes rake over me. He had been stalking me at school for the past month or so and it was getting on my nerves.
“Leave me alone Nate,” I call back, trying not to drown in the water dripping down my face.
“Oh, come on! I know you want this!” he gestures to himself, “Just climb in the car and make your decision!”
“She said to leave her alone,” a deep voice says darkly behind me. I spun around to see a boy around my age with soft brown hair and chestnut colored eyes. He stood about a foot away from me so I spun back around to look at Nate, crossed my arms, and cocked an eyebrow. Next thing I know, Nate’s car peeled out and sped off.
I turned around to thank my savior when a sharp pain stings my shoulder. Faintly, I hear him say, “I’m sorry,” then darkness overtakes me.
“I think she’s waking up, Jason. Go tell Headmaster while I get her dressed & ready. I’ll text you when we are on our way to the office,” a feminine voice says. I hear footsteps leave; I’m guessing Jason’s.
Slowly, I open my heavy eyelids & look around. It looks like I’m in a plain room with a fireplace, table, chairs, & a couch underneath me. A girl who looks around my age is standing at the end of the couch, near my feet. She has about shoulder-length light brown hair & grayish eyes that seemed like they change between green & blue in color. She smiles at me, practically bouncing.
“Hi! I’m Yuna,” she says/squeals, “Headmaster told me to get you all clean & really pretty, you know? He said it so boring though, like it WAS boring to him. How can it be boring? I LOVE dress-up and makeup!!!”
She took my hand & practically yanked me through a door leading to a bathroom. There was a simple walk-in shower & vanity. Also, there were two towels & a fluffy robe.
“Take a shower, wrap your hair in one towel, dry your body with the other, & wrap yourself in the robe. When you’re done, come back into the room you were just in.”
My body feels numb, empty, but I nod and start doing what she said as she leaves. The hot water feels amazing on my chilled skin & tight muscles. As I put the shampoo & conditioner in my hair, I slowly feel it getting softer & healthier. I step out of the shower after about half an hour, slowly drying off while thinking about everything that’s happened. My parents must be worried sick! After I dried off, I wrapped myself in the robe & walk into the previous room, feeling a little more alive.
Yuna is waiting for me & I smile at her, very slightly. She grins back enthusiastically & practically bounces over to me. She looks me over & squeals lightly. “You have to let me choose your outfit & do your makeup!”
“No makeup,” I say tiredly.
“Ugh. Fine! But I am choosing your outfit.” She skips toward another door, motioning for me to follow. Reluctantly, I do so. Slowly, as if she was trying to surprise me, she opens the door. Inside is a completely white room that’s the size of my bedroom back home, maybe bigger. Home, my heart twinges at the thought.
Anyway, the walls of said room are covered in clothes, shoes, accessories, & makeup. It’s every girls dream. One of many dreams at least. Warily, I watch as Yuna flips through racks & racks of clothing, before finally having an outfit. She lays it out on the makeup table along with a hairbrush & straightener. I send her a look, but she shrugs innocently & says, “You never said anything about your hair.” Quietly, I sigh, knowing she’s right.
I walk over to the table to take a look at my outfit. A purple shirt with ripped sides, black skinny jeans, & gray Ugs. That & the straightener, I could deal with. What I couldn’t, was the lacy red lingerie next to it.
I back away from the table like it’s the plague. “No. Heck no! I am not wearing those,” I say.
Yuna glares lightly at me. “Yes, you are. You said I could pick out your outfit, & I did! Now PUT IT ON!”
I’m stunned. That girl could scream. She comes forward & grabs me by the wrist, dragging me towards a Chinese screen thing, then hands me my outfit. Grumbling, I take off the robe & slide on the undergarments. Just as I’m about to put on the jeans, Yuna shouts, “I wanna see you in that lingerie!”
I yell back, “You like guys, right?”
She sighs, “Of course! Now get out here!”
In any other situation, I wouldn’t. But for some reason, Yuna felt like a sister to me. So, I walk out from behind the screen. Loudly, Yuna squeals & says, “Yes! Perfect! You look so hot! And do NOT take that the wrong way!”
I chuckle, but freeze when the doorknob jiggles. Just as the door opens, I duck behind the screen. Footsteps enter & I flush lightly.
“Jason! What are you doing in here?” Yuna yelps out.
“I came to tell you that Headmaster is waiting. Wait, where’s Ko-Aura?” a deep, masculine voice replies. So this is Jason, I think to myself. I wonder if he’s cute…and why’d he say Ko-Aura? What was he gonna say?
“She’s just behind the screen, relax.” I tune back into their conversation as Yuna responds.
“Well, let me see her!” I peek my head around the screen.
“She is right here, you know,” I say loudly.
Jason turns so quickly, I’m afraid he might get whiplash. His dark brown hair hangs very slightly in front of deep blue eyes, which are the same as mine. As our eyes lock, we click. NOT like boyfriend/girlfriend, but like a brother/sister relationship. He starts toward me, a big smile on his face, but Yuna & I scream, “No!” Instantly, he freezes, looking confused.
“One sec,” I tell him at the same time Yuna says, “She’s in lingerie. Only lingerie.” I flush deeper than before. Thanks Yuna, I think sarcastically as I wrestle into my outfit. What can I say? Skinny jeans are tough. And so is getting a shirt over a towel on your head.
When I’m finally finished, I walk out. Yuna cheers & Jason wolf-whistles. For some reason, I’m comfortable & feel so at home with them. I spin around, posing, & I would have flipped my hair if I could have. Jason comes over & pulls me into a bear hug, laughing.
Please comment on this and give me your feedback! This is a story I am writing!
The doctor walked over to the examining table, syringe in hand. Thick red-orange liquid filled the tube connected to the long, intimidating needle. Obsession and masochism showed in his dark eyes, scaring the victim tied down to the table in front of him. He grabbed the victim’s small arm, plunging the shot in without pity. Screams rang through the room, but no farther, for the walls were soundproof.
The mentally disturbed “doctor” smiled and watched as the liquid he injected spread, turning the victim’s veins black as coal. Screams continued to pierce the air, and the victim thrashed about the metal table. Luckily, the straps held the victim from doing anything further than that.
Hours upon hours passed of pain and screams, and then all sound cut off suddenly. Erie silence commenced, spooking the doctor slightly. The victim’s head turned toward the doctor, but their eyes were shut tightly. Shivers ran down the doctor’s spine, though he didn’t know why. Silence suddenly seemed deafening and the room seemed smaller than he would have liked. The doctor didn’t have claustrophobia and had never show any signs of it, until now. He wanted OUT, and he would do anything to get there. Running as fast as possible, he sprinted towards the door. Just as he was going to wrench it open, he felt as though he was being watched. Quaking in his shoes, he turned around. Ice blue eyes stared back at him from the table.
A baby girl. Born and experimented on on January first, the start of a new year. The start of a new race. The start of a miracle.
The start of the hybrids.
Blair Kyle Tora. A shapeshifter capable of controlling vicious fire.
“You will behave!” my mother screamed at me for the hundredth time. I sighed, placing my elbow on the freezing desk and leaning my head on my hand. I never paid attention in my supernatural classes, I wanted adventure. I wanted to explore the land, run until my feet ~or paws~ bled. My parents always said I was a disgrace to our town of shapeshifters, a shame for a hybrid. I always wondered what other shapeshifter towns would think of me, but for some reason my parents wouldn’t let me out of the town walls.
“Blair Kyle Tora, are you even listening?” my mom asked tiredly. Her black hair and gray eyes represented her snow leopard blood, but her petite body looked worn and tired. My dad was out, probably with the hunting group. Every time I volunteered to go, they would all say no. That’s all my life has been. No Blair, you can’t do that. No you can’t do that either. It was getting quite tiring. My father’s main Shift was a Bengal tiger. So, his hair was a red-orange color and his eyes are a deep brown.
Every Shifter had their main Shift. This was what they morph into most. Other morphs could be slightly too extremely painful, while their main was smooth and easy. Your features represent your main Shift. For those who are lucky, you get a powerful animal but for those who are unlucky, you get a prey animal. Once, there was a lady who Shifted into a parrot. Her hair was rainbow!
Personally, my main shift was a white tiger. I believed my features represented that quite well. Paper white hair with coal black streaks (it’s all natural, I swear) flowed a few inches past my waist with side bangs covering my right eye. Ice blue eyes practically cut through you, into your soul. My long, tan, lean but muscled body stood before you at 5’10”, which is five inches higher than my mother and four inches below my father.
I hadn’t realized I had zoned out from my mother yelling at me until she struck me. My cheek stung in pain, and I put it together that she had slapped me. Her ring had made a slight scratch down my jaw and a trickle of blood dripped down. I lifted my hand up to gently touch it and my hand shook.
“Blair-” my mom started, reaching towards me. I smacked her hand away and stood. Quickly, I ran out the door and Shifted. My paws thumped against the ground and I shook my body, the fur rustling. I let out a loud and long roar, several responding. One extremely powerful roar responded, and I recognized it as my dad’s. Immediately, I ran toward the sound. Soon enough, I reached my father. His orange and black fur gleamed in the setting sun and I lowered my head in acknowledgement.
He Shifted back, and motioned for me to do so as well. He was wearing faded jeans with dirt stains and a plain black T-shirt, making him seem slightly paler. When I Shifted back, I was once again in my black jeans, white T-shirt with a wolf on it, and black knee-high Converse. The cut on my cheek had completely healed, leaving just a slight rise in the skin.
“What happened?” my father’s deep voice snapped me from my observations.
I shrugged, “Mom finally got tired of me not listening.”
“You need to pay attention in your classes Blair,” he rumbled. I nodded, but he sighed. “I mean it. I don’t know what to do with you.”
I flinched the slightest at his words. “I just want to see how other kids live. What are their lives like?”
“You needn’t worry about them Blair. Your life is here.”
I looked down at the ground, “Yes father.”
“Now we must go to dinner. We don’t want to keep your mother waiting.”
I followed him back to the house, lagging slightly once we get there. Without hesitation, Father walked into the house, but I didn’t follow immediately. The scent of deer assaulted my nostrils and I breathed in deeply, savoring it.
“Blair! Get in here!” my father yelled. My eyes widened slightly and I immediately scampered into the house, wondering what’s going to happen. I rushed to the dining room, taking a look at the table. A large steak sat in the middle on a platter with three places set at one end. Usually, this would’ve made my stomach grumble, but today it made me sick. Nauseously, I sat at my place. I watched as my parents sauntered in, looking determined. I swallowed.
Silently, they sat down and looked at each other, as though they were having a secret conversation with one another. Finally, after what seemed like eternity of suspense, my mother looked at me, opening her mouth to speak.
“We’ve decided, after much thought, that we cannot control you here. So, we are going to give you what you want. We are going to let you live like others do. You are going to high school.”
I cocked my head in confusion, “High school?”
“It’s where you will take your classes,” I nodded in understanding. “You will take a science, math, English, PE, Spanish, and music class. Science teaches nature, math teaches numbers, English teaches grammar, PE is exercise, and the rest are self-explanatory.”
My eyes were the size of golf balls by the end of her speech. I didn’t know what she was even talking about! Shouldn’t the kids be learning Shapeshifter things? I voiced my thoughts and my mother shook her head.
“Not everyone is a supernatural Blair. There are people who have no clue we exist since they have no special abilities of their own. You must keep it that way Blair, no telling anyone what you are. These clueless beings are called humans. You must respect them though, and respect their laws or rules.”
I nodded, still taken aback at this information. “Whom will I stay with?” I asked quietly.
“You must find your own place to stay if you really want to do this.” I nodded, knowing for sure that I wanted to.
I didn’t expect it to be hard though.
August twenty fifth, one month after our agreement and the first day of school. The start of my junior year.
I looked out the window at the looming buildings of Camden County High School in North Carolina. I would be lying if I said this school didn’t intimidate me, for it was completely unfamiliar. My parents were getting my schedule from the office and dropping my small suitcase there until I found a place to stay. After just a few minutes, my parents came back, a paper in their hands and slight worry on their faces. Slowly, I climbed out of the truck. My black backpack matched my T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots, then semi-matched my gray and black sweatshirt. My hair was hidden under my hood and my eyes were covered in green contacts.
My parents and I didn’t exchange a teary goodbye, not even close. We nodded, waved, then I was off, no words said at all. My schedule said the first bell would ring in forty-five minutes, so I decided to explore the school and find where my classes are before I HAD to find them.
Thirty minutes later, I had seen all my classes. They weren’t way too far away from each other. My schedule was Physics, Calculus, English, Physical Training, Vocal IV, and Spanish. I didn’t understand what any of those meant, but I guess I was going to find out.
Students had started to trickle in and I breathed in. I was shocked by the fact that there was no slight animalistic scents in the air like at the town. As students came, I leaned against the front wall, off to the side and ran through my schedule in my mind again. Suddenly, the sound of giggling caught my attention. I looked to my left to see a group of girls glancing at me and whispering. Was there something wrong? My eyebrows drew together slightly in puzzlement. I saw another group of girls doing the same to a guy as he walked past. It confused me greatly, since he had nothing wrong with him at all. He was quite attractive. Dirty blonde hair hung halfway down his eyes, which I couldn’t tell the color of.
Why were the girls giggling at a guy and me? What did we have in common? It clicked. With my hood up, they couldn’t tell I was a girl. They thought…oh god…they thought I was a guy! I shook my head, shuffling slightly in discomfort. I tucked my hands in my back pockets and banged my head against the wall behind me.
“Are you okay hot stuff?” a sickly sweet voice said from in front of me. I raised my head to see a girl with dyed blonde hair and blue eyes RIGHT in front of me. She had a pink shirt that showed WAY too much and a skirt that barely…uhh…COVERED. On her feet were four-inch pink pumps, making her as tall as me.
I nodded tiredly and she ran her hands over my shoulders. “Need a massage?” she asked, attempting to sound seductive and failing. Her voice just grated at my ears.
I shook my head quickly, taking her hands off my shoulders and placing them at her side. Her eyes shone with disappointment as I just walked away. As I walked, a girl with naturally blonde hair with blue streaks and brown eyes giggled lightly. She was naturally beautiful, but I wasn’t into girls like that. I didn’t have anything against people who do, but…I’m rambling.
I entered through the school doors just as the first bell rang. Quickly, I walked to physics class. As I slid through the door into the classroom, I pulled my hood tighter around my face. Instead of going up to my teacher (who looked very welcoming with simple clothes, straight grown hair, and soft hazel eyes), I sat in a seat at the very back of the room. The class came into the room and sat down within a minute or two, and then the late bell rang. Many students sent a look my way, but otherwise ignored me.