Post by Strawberry on Sept 24, 2009 10:34:03 GMT -5
Hey everyone. Well to explain this thread, I'm a bit of a writing maniac. I can be writing one thing one second, another thing the next. I've always wanted to write a novel, and I have thousands of ideas, some I have actually written down.
This thread is for the main novel I'm working on and I just want to get everyone's thoughts on it. Also, students, feel free to use this to help your studies if you find that it will. Anyhow, here it goes...
The wind toyed with his silk, brown hair, feeling it brush against my cheek knowing I was the luckiest girl alive. Zach Myers, the most good looking guy I had ever laid eyes on, chose me. He bought me white roses on Valentine's day, I remember it like it hadn't happened four months ago.
We had both lost precious things in the war that still raged on outside our peaceful town, and we came together, and pieced up the missing parts. Despite everything poor that was happening to our country, I couldn't help but feel happy when ever he embraced me, and it hadn't changed since.
Sitting with him under the night sky, swinging back and forth on my favorite porch swing, I hadn't a care in the world. My younger brother and parents sat in the living room, watching the latest broadcasts about the terrible world our country had turned into.
We simply ignored it.
"This is nice." The words slipped past my lips before I even noticed it.
Making a sound of agreement, he continued to swing us back and forth and somehow I knew he was thinking about his lost family. It pained me just to think he suffered so much before finding his way here. One of the only towns still living and operating as close to normality as possible.
Another silent wave washed over us, and I listened carefully to the breeze, somehow, making me feel at peace. Suddenly, an odd sound drew my attention, I could hear it getting louder by the second though I stayed wrapped in Zach's arms.
Noticing the quick shift in my behavior, Zach brushed a strand of hair from my face, I knew he was alert as well. "What's wrong?" I heard the concern in his voice, as an abrupt realization washed over me.
My features quickly turned from happiness to fear as I croaked out the words, "Oh, no." Turning for shelter in his arms, hoping it would be enough to protect us, the bomb landed, the sound so loud it rang in my ears.
My body shot up straight like a metal rod and the high pitch screaming continued as I tried to make out it's source. Slick, cold sweat cascaded down my neck and my heart pounded against my rib cage like a bullet at point blank range. Covering my face with my hands, trying to hide away from the horror I had relived, once more played out in my head.
Two arms quickly embraced me, rubbing my arms, brushing my cheek, his silent soothing begging for my return to reality to fasten.
Like I had the night before, I collapsed into his arms weeping, letting the spasm of grief for my family, my towns loose heave through me.
Zach's strong hand caressed my knotty, golden hair protectively, trying to scramble his brain for all the ways he knew how to comfort me. Though, just having him there helped in many ways than none. "Shh, Bailee. We're safe now, it's all right."
Minutes passed, the only sounds from my sobbing and Zach's pleas. I tried to calm myself by listening to the little life outside the abandoned apartment window in a town where all life had abandoned two years beforehand. Yet, resting in Zach's arms, I felt oddly at ease, and the tears came to an end as I backed to arms length and gazed into the brown eyes I had lost myself in many times before. "Thank you." I whispered, ignoring the gravelly tone.
Eye's smiling back at me, he stood, reached a hand out to me. Accepting it, I placed my bare feet on cold, glossy wood and attempted to stand. The moment the weight reached my feet, my eyes blurred and I became off balance, landing in Zach's arms again. "I'm all right." I said quickly, disregarding his concern and, at last, standing on my own.
The event of three nights ago weighed heavily on my mind. Not only because the sheer abnormality that Zach and I seemed to be the only two survivors of a surprise bomb raid that completely destroyed the only home I've ever known, however, something happened that night, because of me, that neither Zach and I can understand.
I remember feeling the heat from the fire raging around us, killing my family, but Zach and I remained unharmed, and it terrified me.
"See, all good." I placed my hands on my hips, trying to look in control, but it didn't help that part of my vision was still slightly blurry from either the tears, or the massive head ache that I had had none stop ever since that night.
"Good. Now get changed, there's some clothes round about your size in the draw over there." Zach gestured to the ancient mahogany draws resting against the far right wall. "We should keep moving, who knows what's out there." His words sent a chill down my spine, but kept it locked inside, not wanting his worry if he noticed.
Looking down at the clothing I currently wore, it didn't take me long to remember the owner of the male t-shirt twice my size was a complete stranger, and I had slept in their bed, showered in their shower and eaten their food all for the sake of survival.
The savage civil war which had consumed Australia since 2002, still thriving 10 years later, for reasons unknown, had taken many innocent lives and persuaded others to leave to look for shelter. For the ones who struck out on their own, lived off the belongings of strangers, while they searched for a way out of the country. I'd heard about it on the news, the only thing ever on the television these days, however, I never in my wildest dreams believed that I would once be one of them.
"Okay." I answered, watching Zach walk out of the room with an empty back pack.
Zach and I had both lost things important to us when we met last year at the traditional town meeting. Apparently, I had spent the last 3 years of my life in a coma, the result of another bomb raid, and I had lost all memory from after I was five-years-old. I had tried many different tactics to try and bring it back, but it never worked.
Zach had just arrived in town a day before the meeting with a small group of other refugees. During the time after the meeting had finished, my parents would spend all eternity speaking with other adults, about the latest news, anything that was of interest and I took the time to speak to Zach, who had seemed dead at the time. His face was so stoic, and he rarely talked I worried whether I had said the wrong things. Though, after I told him about my experience with the coma and the memory lose, he seemed to pay more attention. After that, we were always seen around town with each other, and soon, we fell in love. It was typical these days to see young love, not many people lived to see the next day, so we always lived life to it's fullest.
Watching Zach walk out of the master bedroom with that empty bag bought back that particular memory. The empty look on his face was sad, but it soon filled up with life, and I feared, that with the current events, one, or even both of us, might fall back into that dark pit of loneliness and never get out.
Feeling angry with myself for letting my thoughts get carried away, I strolled over to the desk of drawers and opened the very top.
Lucky for me, the woman who lived here wore my size and the type of clothes I enjoyed wearing which kept the dread of running around the country in a skimpy mini skirt and crop top out of my mind.
Pulling the t-shirt over my head, I replaced it with the one that was my size with the print of a band I'd never heard of. I tugged on the skinny leg jeans, and did the ritual pants dance as I struggled pulling them over my thighs. Walking into the adjoined bathroom, I counted all the make-up products that covered the sparkling white stone top and was astonished that the woman had over one hundred.
Picking up the brush, I kept thinking about how many poor little puppies had been hurt during the testings of each product wincing each time I contended with a vicious knot and lost. The sound of clanking caught my attention, and curiosity got the best of me.
Finished with my hair, I walked out of the bedroom straight to the kitchen and watched Zach dump different types of caned food into the empty bag. "What are you doing?" I put two hands on the back of one of the dinning room chairs and leaned, trying to think in the same lines as the once before refugee.
"If we want to survive until we find our ticket off this island, then we need food, food that will last." Satisfied with what was inside the bag, he zipped it and turned to face me. The look he wore shocked me, only because he had more composure this time, than I had. It seemed like we had switched positions.
Observing Zach more closely than I had just minutes ago as he rushed in to calm me from my
nightmare, I became aware that he also changed into the strangers clothing. The plain black t-shirt was snug, and I could make out his lean muscles, the light brown cargo pants fit him well, and I was glad that we had such good clothes to choose from.
"I take it the clothes fit?" It was more a statement then a question. I reached across the table to attempt picking up the bag. It barely got an inch off the table when I dropped it back down with a huff. "Wow. That going to be hard to carry."
Laughing, Zach picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder with no effort at all. "Don't worry, I'll carry it. The next bag we get you can carry." We both walked out the front door. I knew Zach was thinking about where to go next, but I was wishing the next bag I carried was a shopping bag.
This thread is for the main novel I'm working on and I just want to get everyone's thoughts on it. Also, students, feel free to use this to help your studies if you find that it will. Anyhow, here it goes...
Chapter One: Nightmares and Bad Guys (Part One)
The wind toyed with his silk, brown hair, feeling it brush against my cheek knowing I was the luckiest girl alive. Zach Myers, the most good looking guy I had ever laid eyes on, chose me. He bought me white roses on Valentine's day, I remember it like it hadn't happened four months ago.
We had both lost precious things in the war that still raged on outside our peaceful town, and we came together, and pieced up the missing parts. Despite everything poor that was happening to our country, I couldn't help but feel happy when ever he embraced me, and it hadn't changed since.
Sitting with him under the night sky, swinging back and forth on my favorite porch swing, I hadn't a care in the world. My younger brother and parents sat in the living room, watching the latest broadcasts about the terrible world our country had turned into.
We simply ignored it.
"This is nice." The words slipped past my lips before I even noticed it.
Making a sound of agreement, he continued to swing us back and forth and somehow I knew he was thinking about his lost family. It pained me just to think he suffered so much before finding his way here. One of the only towns still living and operating as close to normality as possible.
Another silent wave washed over us, and I listened carefully to the breeze, somehow, making me feel at peace. Suddenly, an odd sound drew my attention, I could hear it getting louder by the second though I stayed wrapped in Zach's arms.
Noticing the quick shift in my behavior, Zach brushed a strand of hair from my face, I knew he was alert as well. "What's wrong?" I heard the concern in his voice, as an abrupt realization washed over me.
My features quickly turned from happiness to fear as I croaked out the words, "Oh, no." Turning for shelter in his arms, hoping it would be enough to protect us, the bomb landed, the sound so loud it rang in my ears.
My body shot up straight like a metal rod and the high pitch screaming continued as I tried to make out it's source. Slick, cold sweat cascaded down my neck and my heart pounded against my rib cage like a bullet at point blank range. Covering my face with my hands, trying to hide away from the horror I had relived, once more played out in my head.
Two arms quickly embraced me, rubbing my arms, brushing my cheek, his silent soothing begging for my return to reality to fasten.
Like I had the night before, I collapsed into his arms weeping, letting the spasm of grief for my family, my towns loose heave through me.
Zach's strong hand caressed my knotty, golden hair protectively, trying to scramble his brain for all the ways he knew how to comfort me. Though, just having him there helped in many ways than none. "Shh, Bailee. We're safe now, it's all right."
Minutes passed, the only sounds from my sobbing and Zach's pleas. I tried to calm myself by listening to the little life outside the abandoned apartment window in a town where all life had abandoned two years beforehand. Yet, resting in Zach's arms, I felt oddly at ease, and the tears came to an end as I backed to arms length and gazed into the brown eyes I had lost myself in many times before. "Thank you." I whispered, ignoring the gravelly tone.
Eye's smiling back at me, he stood, reached a hand out to me. Accepting it, I placed my bare feet on cold, glossy wood and attempted to stand. The moment the weight reached my feet, my eyes blurred and I became off balance, landing in Zach's arms again. "I'm all right." I said quickly, disregarding his concern and, at last, standing on my own.
The event of three nights ago weighed heavily on my mind. Not only because the sheer abnormality that Zach and I seemed to be the only two survivors of a surprise bomb raid that completely destroyed the only home I've ever known, however, something happened that night, because of me, that neither Zach and I can understand.
I remember feeling the heat from the fire raging around us, killing my family, but Zach and I remained unharmed, and it terrified me.
"See, all good." I placed my hands on my hips, trying to look in control, but it didn't help that part of my vision was still slightly blurry from either the tears, or the massive head ache that I had had none stop ever since that night.
"Good. Now get changed, there's some clothes round about your size in the draw over there." Zach gestured to the ancient mahogany draws resting against the far right wall. "We should keep moving, who knows what's out there." His words sent a chill down my spine, but kept it locked inside, not wanting his worry if he noticed.
Looking down at the clothing I currently wore, it didn't take me long to remember the owner of the male t-shirt twice my size was a complete stranger, and I had slept in their bed, showered in their shower and eaten their food all for the sake of survival.
The savage civil war which had consumed Australia since 2002, still thriving 10 years later, for reasons unknown, had taken many innocent lives and persuaded others to leave to look for shelter. For the ones who struck out on their own, lived off the belongings of strangers, while they searched for a way out of the country. I'd heard about it on the news, the only thing ever on the television these days, however, I never in my wildest dreams believed that I would once be one of them.
"Okay." I answered, watching Zach walk out of the room with an empty back pack.
Zach and I had both lost things important to us when we met last year at the traditional town meeting. Apparently, I had spent the last 3 years of my life in a coma, the result of another bomb raid, and I had lost all memory from after I was five-years-old. I had tried many different tactics to try and bring it back, but it never worked.
Zach had just arrived in town a day before the meeting with a small group of other refugees. During the time after the meeting had finished, my parents would spend all eternity speaking with other adults, about the latest news, anything that was of interest and I took the time to speak to Zach, who had seemed dead at the time. His face was so stoic, and he rarely talked I worried whether I had said the wrong things. Though, after I told him about my experience with the coma and the memory lose, he seemed to pay more attention. After that, we were always seen around town with each other, and soon, we fell in love. It was typical these days to see young love, not many people lived to see the next day, so we always lived life to it's fullest.
Watching Zach walk out of the master bedroom with that empty bag bought back that particular memory. The empty look on his face was sad, but it soon filled up with life, and I feared, that with the current events, one, or even both of us, might fall back into that dark pit of loneliness and never get out.
Feeling angry with myself for letting my thoughts get carried away, I strolled over to the desk of drawers and opened the very top.
Lucky for me, the woman who lived here wore my size and the type of clothes I enjoyed wearing which kept the dread of running around the country in a skimpy mini skirt and crop top out of my mind.
Pulling the t-shirt over my head, I replaced it with the one that was my size with the print of a band I'd never heard of. I tugged on the skinny leg jeans, and did the ritual pants dance as I struggled pulling them over my thighs. Walking into the adjoined bathroom, I counted all the make-up products that covered the sparkling white stone top and was astonished that the woman had over one hundred.
Picking up the brush, I kept thinking about how many poor little puppies had been hurt during the testings of each product wincing each time I contended with a vicious knot and lost. The sound of clanking caught my attention, and curiosity got the best of me.
Finished with my hair, I walked out of the bedroom straight to the kitchen and watched Zach dump different types of caned food into the empty bag. "What are you doing?" I put two hands on the back of one of the dinning room chairs and leaned, trying to think in the same lines as the once before refugee.
"If we want to survive until we find our ticket off this island, then we need food, food that will last." Satisfied with what was inside the bag, he zipped it and turned to face me. The look he wore shocked me, only because he had more composure this time, than I had. It seemed like we had switched positions.
Observing Zach more closely than I had just minutes ago as he rushed in to calm me from my
nightmare, I became aware that he also changed into the strangers clothing. The plain black t-shirt was snug, and I could make out his lean muscles, the light brown cargo pants fit him well, and I was glad that we had such good clothes to choose from.
"I take it the clothes fit?" It was more a statement then a question. I reached across the table to attempt picking up the bag. It barely got an inch off the table when I dropped it back down with a huff. "Wow. That going to be hard to carry."
Laughing, Zach picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder with no effort at all. "Don't worry, I'll carry it. The next bag we get you can carry." We both walked out the front door. I knew Zach was thinking about where to go next, but I was wishing the next bag I carried was a shopping bag.