Author: redfeatherz PM
I am the writer. I am the vessle for the unspoken, the connection between words and dreams. I can take a life and put it on paper as just a story. And that's all it was, just a story, a fantasy. This is the story that became so much more than a story...Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Romance - Chapters: 10 - Words: 26,760 - Reviews: 29 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 06-14-08 - Published: 02-11-08 - id: 4066262
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Terror rains drenchin', quenchin' tha thirst of
Tha power dons
That five sided fist-a-gon
Tha rotten sore on tha face of mother earth gets
Tha triggers cold empty ya purse
((Hey everyone! I got a brilliant idea last night, when I was listening to music. It was actually Bulls on Parade by Rage Against the Machine. Great song. That's what the lyrics above are from. In case you've never read any of my stories, I like to post random lyrics up top in italics. Mostly from my favorite bands and songs. A lot are from Guitar Hero II or III. Great game. So anyways, here's the story! Great story! And don't you dare skip on reviewing!))
Disclaimer: I don't own a good chunk of this. James Patterson does. If you don't know what's his and what isn't, then you obviously haven't read the books and shouldn't be reading this. Other stuff is mine. If there's something there that's from someone else, then please tell me and I'll do my best to correct it. I haven't read every book in the world yet, though I'm far on my way to, so sorry if there's something that's someone else's work!
Polo gasped in pain as his head smashed violently against the wall. He slowly and painfully turned to look in the crazed yellow eyes of his attacker.
"You told!" the enemy snarled, hands at Polo's throat. Polo glared at him.
"How would I? I've been here for my whole life," he spat back. The man, or actually was more of a teenager, who was pinning him growled and slapped him across the face. Polo just sucked in a breath and turned back to face him.
"No, you haven't. You escaped that once, remember," the teen retorted.
"I didn't tell, Molt," he said in an exasperated tone, as if he was used to this sort of thing. Which he actually was. The teen, Molt, just bared his too-sharp teeth.
"Really. Then how does a girl know our entire story? How does she know everything about… everything?" Molt hissed. Polo rolled his eyes.
"I. Didn't. Tell." Polo said again. Molt hesitated. "If I would have told, the story would have been out before now. I would have told it to the world, not just one girl in the middle of nowhere," he emphasized. Finally, Molt nodded, his eyes seeming to dim until they were just light brown, his teeth seeming normal again, and the inane animal look gone.
"Okay," Molt said. He roughened up again suddenly. "Back in your cage, filth!" he snarled, practically throwing the scrawny teen into a cage. Polo sighed, picked himself up, and leaned against the bars.
Home, sweet Home.
"Hey, have you read
that new book?"
"Ohmygod, yes. It was so good!"
"Good? That's it? It was freaking amazing!"
"Wow, you just said a book is amazing! You hate reading!"
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my binder, closing the locker. Everyone was fawning over a book, and I had already read it before it really came out. Because I had been the one to write it.
Yup, I wrote a book. Nobody knew that I was the author, except my publisher. You'd think that I would need parental forms and junk like that to write a book, since I was only fifteen, but I didn't! The only way someone would be able to relate me to the writer, Sam, was if they somehow wrung the information out of my publisher or realized where the enormous sum of money in my bank account came from.
Even though I had written a whole novel with numerous awards and tons of cash, life still went on. I went to school, dressed normal, hung out with my friends, and had hockey.
I'm a girl and I'm on a guy's hockey team. So? It's actually supposed to be co-ed, but they cut mostly everyone. I was the one exception. There was no one else fit for playing goalie, since the last one graduated. I was the best candidate.
Wow, I'm getting too far ahead of myself. My name is Eli Hazel. I'm fifteen. I live in Maine. It was late February, and there was a crapload of snow on the ground. I'm talking a good four feet of the stuff, and it was somewhere around negative eleven. I was a freshman in high school. I had golden-brown straight, a little over shoulder-length hair that has deep red in it. Not stripes or anything, but in the right light, it takes on a reddish tint. I didn't dye it, they're just like that. My eyes are hazel and just about match my hair. Sometimes people teased me and called me Hazel. Last name is Hazel, eyes and hair…? You should get it.
So, introductions- check.
I stifled a yawn as I headed for the locker rooms. All the girls around me were changing up for basketball and skiing, but I was the only one yanking on hockey gear. I'm not the most popular girl, and I'm not friendless either. I was asking Emily to help me with my gear occasionally, and she did so gladly.
She was into basketball, and I had been for middle school. Then it dawned on me how badly I sucked at it, and I didn't play for a while. When I shot hoops at the local gym complex, Gentile Hall, I found that I didn't really like basketball that much anymore. So I went with hockey.
Emily had dark brown hair, a bit shorter than mine, and all spiral curls. She had a round face and blue eyes, and we were best buds ever.
"Have you read that new book yet?" I asked casually. She nodded, her eyes lighting up as she tore a brush through her curls.
"Yes! It was amazing! I'm not usually into that sci-fi stuff, but this had some good romance in it! Max and Fang… they're great," she crooned. I smiled.
"I liked it a lot," I said simply, snapping on the rest of my gear.
Two hours and what had to be a couple miles later, I headed home. I had taken my snowmobile to school today because I had woken up a bit early and had time, so I enjoyed the ride, blasting through the snow like I was shot from a gun barrel.
About a quarter mile from home, I thought I saw a figure on the edge of the woods. A bear? Whatever it was, it was big and black and on the ground. I stopped a little ways away for safety's sake, and slowly crept forward. I froze when I realized what it was.
Everything I thought I knew crumbled in that one second. That was the last time I saw life as I had before.
((So, whaddya think? I know, it's wicked short, and I'm sorry for that, but I have to save the other stuff for the next chapter. I'd like at least four reviews before I post again! Please, sir/madam, can you spare a moment and review? –bambi eyes-))