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Thread: Soul

  1. #1
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    Title is subject to change. I'm not entirely happy with it because I came up with it on whim so that it had a title when I posted it.

    Soul is a book I am writing, obviously. I decided to post it on here so that I could get feedback from people other than my friends. The story isn't based off of any videogame or anything else, it is completely from my mind and my own ideas. I hope everyone who reads this will enjoy. So without further ado, Soul:


    - Chapter 1 -

    I have learned to deal with the fact that I’m blind. It really isn’t all that bad – although, the darkness does get very boring most of the time. As I was saying, I have learned to deal with my blindness by using other things to help me cope with it; like sarcasm and a knife. Just kidding. I may look like the kind of person that would cut, but I would never result to that kind of outrageous behavior. Although that urge has come up many times before just to use on the occasional annoying person, that really seems to brighten up my day, not myself.

    Now, ever since it had happened; I’ve lived a very uneventful life – luckily for me, that would soon change. My Aunt Lela was really nice, sometimes too nice, but I didn’t mind living with her. She was always making sure I knew where things were, and she would help me get around the house – a little too over protective. It gets very annoying sometimes, because like I said before, “I have learned to deal with being blind.” I can get around anywhere without my walking stick now; I can tell where everything is. It is almost as if I sense everything around me, like everything gives off an aura so I can tell where I am. Being blind is the least of my worries.



    I was sitting in the backseat of a yellow Volkswagen Beetle. I nearly choked at the site of this; my mom and brother were sitting in the front seats. I still just sat calmly in the back staring blankly at the dark void of night. I wanted to shout out and cry, but my body wouldn’t do anything I willed it to. It made me frustrated – why do reunions have to be so complicated?

    My brother sat in the passenger seat as casually and quiet as I was sitting. He stared out the window, tracing the dark blurs of pine trees with his bright-green eyes. He seemed so interested in the mountain scenery even though there wasn’t much to see, and I was sitting right there! Occasionally he would flip his blonde “surfer-dude” hair out of his face, and then pop his bubble gum. I used to find that loud click annoying – he would do it just to bug me – but now, I found it the most beautiful sound I had heard in years.

    My mom didn’t care that I was in the back just as much as my brother. She kept her blue eyes fixed on the road, her expression full of fear and anxiety. I knew she hated driving, it only got worse at night and on a long, winding mountain road lined with steep cliffs. She had her window rolled down, despite the cold and sprinkling rain, with one arm hanging out. It made her long wavy blonde hair blow wildly around her face, like one of those blown-up characters that flopped around in front of car dealerships.

    My mind was racing with thousands of things to say. What do you say when you haven’t seen someone for four years? (Especially when it doesn’t seem like they care either). We had so much we could talk about, but my mouth thought otherwise. No matter how hard I willed it to burst open and start shouting out the past four years at lightning speed, nothing happened. My lips stayed completely shut together.

    Something was really wrong with this picture; most people have complete control over all of their body movements, and usually their hand doesn’t have a mind of its own – my hand, apparently did. It was over by the window, drawing little pictures of bunnies and flowers in the condensation like it did this all the time. The one thing that stood out to me more when I looked at the window was my reflection.
    I looked odd and not exactly how I remembered me looking. For starters, I looked very young. For not knowing how I looked most the time, I knew I wasn’t this small and innocent. My curly red hair was braided and parted down the middle – I usually still wore it like that. Large freckles sprayed across the pale skin of my face, and my big, aqua eyes were full of questions and wonder about the world. My feet barely hung off the edge of the seat – I knew I was short, but not that short. I was wearing a short tan skirt, a pale yellow shirt with a pink flower in the lower right corner, and cute little black and white tennis shoes. I remember this being my favorite thing to wear when I was little.

    That’s it! I must only be a little kid, maybe eight or so – that makes me four years younger than I am now. Oh crap! I thought. If this was what I thought it was, I wanted it to stop right now – reliving this nightmare again would really suck!

    “Clair, honey,” the sweet angelic voice of my mother flew into the backseat, “Are you okay? You haven’t said anything since we left the cabin.”

    This is what I had been wanting, to hear the voice of my mother. It was even better than the memories I had – and sometimes, memories were all I had to get me through a day. Her voice was like the heavens opening up and singing just for me, or all the music ever invented in the world pouring upon me! I wanted to keep this conversation going, and all my worry about the dream flushed away. That was a mistake, I should have woken up.

    I was about to talk, when my mouth did it for me, “I’m fine mom,” I said, “I’m just a little sad that summer is over.”

    We used to always spend the last two weeks of summer in a cabin up in the mountains. It was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life, even though I hate the mountains…now.

    “You always say this sweetheart, but summer does have to end. We will be back next year.” my mom exclaimed. She always had to be so optimistic. I already knew we wouldn’t be coming back.

    “Next year is too long to wait!” Again, this was not me saying this. If I had any control over what my body was doing I would be yelling, “Turn back now!” I knew what was coming, but I couldn’t get myself to wake up.

    “Ah Clair,” My brother Joseph said, “Next year will come in a flash, and we will be up here and relaxing by the lake in no time!”

    “Fine…I’m not sure I believe you though, it’s a whole year!”

    “Trust me!” Those were the last words I heard my brother say before I sprawled out – well, as much as a short eight-year-old can – and quickly fell asleep.

    CRACKA-BOOM!

    I jumped awake and bolted into a sitting position at the sound of thunder. I usually didn’t mind thunderstorms, but this wasn’t your ordinary storm. It was a freak storm! The clouds were this odd purplish-grey and they seemed to glow. I always thought that you couldn’t see the clouds at night, but these clouds were as bright as if it was noon. I could see bright bolts of lightening dancing everywhere across the sky; everywhere I looked, and thick sheets of rain slammed against the car, the sound of pellets hitting metal.

    CRACKA-BOOM!

    Another heart-attack inducing crash of thunder, it was like every violinist in the world had decide to play their instrument tonight…badly. I began to cry both myself and my body. I knew what this horrible storm meant; my younger self was just afraid.

    “Clair! Don’t cry” My brother said comfortingly. “It’ll all be over in a second.” He had no idea how true his words were. If only he could add the word “literally” to the end of that sentence, but he wouldn’t have known.

    I kept crying anyway, screaming sentences like: “We’re all going to die!” and “Make it stop!” Is it possible to punch your self and tell yourself to shut up, when your body isn’t listening to a word your mind is saying? No…I would say it isn’t. That is exactly what I felt like doing, but all I got out of my body was more crying and screaming. Was I really this much of a baby four years ago?

    “Clair, sweetheart,” My mom was trying to sound as calm as possible, but I could tell she was worried and a little scared. Her body was tense, and her eyes stayed fixed on the turns in the road ahead – her grip on the steering wheel strong enough to make her hands a pale white.

    We weren’t out of the mountains yet, so I wasn’t asleep long. The steep cliffs still lined both sides of the road. There was really no way out if something got in our way, there was a wall of cliff on the left and steep drop into the forest on the right. We were trapped.

    “I need you to be quiet and calm down, sweetheart,” my mom finished. I calmed down just a little and stopped screaming. I still cried, and hard to; I could barely breath.

    Joseph unbuckled his seat belt and hopped over into the backseat with me, followed by a bunch of complaints and shouts from my mom. I was glad to see my brother’s big grin that he always wore as he sat next to me and pulled me into a bear hug. Joseph could always comfort me, even when I was the most scared I had ever been. He had strong arms that felt like he would never let me go; he looked so much like our dad – except for the blonde hair.

    “Clair…I won’t let you go…ever! I promise,” Joseph whispered in my ear. I took in a deep breath and snuggled up against his arm.

    CRACKA-BOOM!

    That was loudest crash of thunder I’ve ever heard – I can’t even think of words to describe the sound that even the deaf probably heard. It came immediately with a flash of lightning that seemed to touch down right in front of our car. It was a bright fluorescent purple flash that left my vision white for seconds afterward; I’m not even sure it was actual lightning; it could have been a truck or something else.

    The next thing I knew was that our small car was taking a sharp turn to the right and started screeching against the metal railing. Joseph slammed into the window making it crack, but never does he loosen his strong grip around me. The weak metal of the railing wouldn’t hold our car forever; it was as if something was pushing against the back of our car. The metal began to creak and there was a loud snap!

    We started racing down the steep mountainside. Think of the worst roller-coaster you’ve ever been on, and then times that by fifty and you will experience exactly what I am. Strangely enough, nothing got in our way as we sped down the mountain we just kept gaining speed. Everything happened so fast, it made me dizzy.

    All sound drained out, leaving me with a small ringing in my ears – I knew we were about to die. I felt my mouth open and I could tell I was screaming; Joseph and mom were screaming too. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t hearing…there was just ringing. Joseph still held on to me, as we zoomed through the darkness.

    CRASH! BOOM! SNAP!

    The sound was back.

    We slammed straight into a large pine tree. The windshield shattered and sent small flecks of glass everywhere. An intense pain filled my face and it began to feel warm and wet. My eyes were burning with the feeling you get after opening your eyes underwater, and I couldn’t see a thing. I reached up and touched my face, all I felt was a warm sticky liquid; I assumed it was blood. My mom’s seat was flung back on top of me crushing my legs and torso; it was getting hard for me to breath. I felt for my mom in the seat, she had warm blood all over her face and she lay perfectly still.

    I began to cry out in pain. I could barely breath, I was covered in blood and my head was pounding as if it had just been the victim of a very bad drummer. I began to feel nauseous and very dizzy. My eyes shut and I was out cold.

    * * *

    I awoke still being unable to see. I could feel my mother’s seat on top of me, and the warmth of the morning sun beating down through the sun roof. The blood on my face had crusted over, and my eyes still burned. I ached all over; the pain was enough to knock me out again.

    I groped around in front of me to feel for my mom. I found her face; it was cold, and she didn’t react when I touched it. I could feel dry crusted blood, but even new warm blood. My mom was freezing cold, and I knew instantly she was dead. I began to cry, when I noticed Joseph wasn’t holding me, or even in the car.

    Joseph didn’t keep his promise.
    -----------------------------------------



    I'm going to try and post Chapter Two later today, probably after people comment on this.
    Last edited by trapezechimpanz; 11th October 2007 at 6:13 PM.

    ~.:Bojangles|Mamba|Atlas:.~
    ~.:Opal & Topaz:.~
    ~.:Soul:.~

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    This is a pretty good story, I like it. However, as you're telling the story, I'm confused a bit on if Clair is blind during the accident or not. Because you're describing things from her view and if she's blind, how is that possible? Maybe I misread it, but that's how I comprehended it. ^^; Other than that, this is really good and I'm interested to see where Joseph is and if he survived. You've got a reader in me.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mimori Kiryu View Post
    This is a pretty good story, I like it. However, as you're telling the story, I'm confused a bit on if Clair is blind during the accident or not. Because you're describing things from her view and if she's blind, how is that possible? Maybe I misread it, but that's how I comprehended it. ^^; Other than that, this is really good and I'm interested to see where Joseph is and if he survived. You've got a reader in me.
    Wow! You read that fast! I only just posted it. Thanks for the postive feedback; I'm glad I got a hooked reader already!

    To answer your question, she isn't blind during the crash. You find out at the beginning of the next chapter that Clair is dreaming about the crash that already happened.

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    Okay, I just wanted to check and make sure. Because there wasn't a break inbetween when she's narrating and when she's dreaming so that the reader can see the difference. That's why I asked. Thanks for clearing that up. And yeah, you've got a reader already. ^^
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mimori Kiryu View Post
    Okay, I just wanted to check and make sure. Because there wasn't a break inbetween when she's narrating and when she's dreaming so that the reader can see the difference. That's why I asked. Thanks for clearing that up. And yeah, you've got a reader already. ^^
    Here's Chapter Two to keep you busy then! haha!


    - Chapter 2 -

    I jumped awake in the eternal darkness drenched in cold sweat. My hands were shaking terribly and I had a huge headache like my head was the tragic scene of a construction sight being run by monkeys. My eyes were sore; it has been awhile since I’ve looked at the sun for a few hours, but I figure your eyes feel like this afterwards. The pain was all too familiar; I have had that dream too many times before, every time it almost killed me.

    I should probably mention that I don’t usually have normal dreams. I have realistic dreams. No, I don’t mean realistic as in everything in my dreams can be explained by science; I mean, they’re real. It’s like I am living my dreams, and I usually wake up feeling exactly how I had before the dream ended. I’ve always just figured that it was normal, and never try to talk about it – people tend to get more worried when I say or do something strange.

    I’m not traumatized from the accident; I’m over it. I’ve come to accept the fact that I no longer have any direct family members. My mom had died, and so had Joseph – at least, that is what they told me. I had never seen – well, felt – Joseph’s body after he had died, but I do know that we buried two coffins at the funeral service. As far as I’m concerned, I’m perfectly fine with living with my Aunt.

    I got out of bed and mindlessly fumbled around my room. I tripped a couple of times over what I think was a pair of tennis shoes and my backpack. I know I said that I could sense things around me and get around without a walking stick, but seriously I would like to see you try and get around a dark room right when you first wake up.

    I finally made my way to the light switch and flipped it on. I’m not sure why I still do that; it doesn’t make much of a difference – everything stays dark. I walked over to my closet and started gathering something to wear to school. Everything in my closet had to be perfectly organized or else I could end up wearing pajamas to school instead of a new shirt I just bought and wanted to show off. To save myself total and utter embarrassment, my Aunt put away my clothes for me over a designated sticker that told me what it was in brail. I don’t really like organization; but like a lot of things, I’ve learned to deal with it.

    I grabbed what was supposed to be a blue, plaid blouse and put it on as quickly as I could. I rolled up the sleeves to my elbows, and then pulled on my tan pants while dangerously hopping around on one foot – it was dumb, but hey, I didn’t fall. I braided my hair, very slow and carefully; into two neat braids. (It took me forever to get the “neat” part right.)

    When I felt like I was ready enough to go out in public, I headed out my bedroom to the kitchen right down the hall. My Aunt was already making breakfast. As I took in a deep breath, I could smell the stimulating aroma of my Aunt’s prize-winning, blueberry waffles and a heaping pile of crispy bacon – her typical Monday breakfast, and one of my personal favorites.

    “Good morning Clair!” My Aunt was over by the fridge in the left corner of the kitchen, but she started to move towards me, “Did you sleep well?”

    “Umm…yeah!” I lied. My Aunt had made it over to me, and she grasped my shoulders with her cold and dainty hands. I rolled my eyes; she was helping me to the kitchen table. I knew where it was, right in front of the screen door by the fridge. “Aunt Lela,” I tried to sound nice, “I can find my way to the kitchen table. I don’t need help walking over there.”

    “Okay dear,” she let go of my shoulders and started walking toward the kitchen table, “Just follow the sound of my voice.” Didn’t I say she was annoying sometimes? I really did like living with her, she just had a little trouble grasping the fact that I had been blind for four and a half years now. I knew her house well enough to get around on my own. I can’t really explain how I can walk through the school hallway without bumping into people though.

    When I sat down, my aunt started piling my plate full of waffles and bacon. I could feel the comfortable heat rising from my plate and warming my cheeks. The splashing and gurgling of orange juice pouring into a glass could be heard next to me. If I didn’t already know that it was orange juice, I probably would have thought it was something much more disgusting just from the sound effects.

    Aunt Lela sat down across from me and started devouring into her plate of waffles. I wish I could see my Aunt eat. I wondered if she ate any prettier than it sounded. She inhaled her food as if it was the last breath she would be taking in ages, and then she chewed it with her mouth open so I could hear every last crunch, squish, and munch. I assume she took large bites, because listening to her swallow sounded like it took a lot effort. It was almost as if she was throwing up, but doing exactly the opposite.

    I complain about my Aunt too much.

    “Do you know what you’re doing at school today?” Lela asked through a mouthful of bacon.

    “I have a math test, but other than that, nothing exciting happening.” I replied. My voice cracked mid-sentence. I hoped she didn’t notice; I was still a little shook up from my dream.

    “Did you study?” She didn’t notice.

    “Uhh…yeah, last night before I went to sleep. It isn’t too hard.” My voice sounded shaky with that answer. Apparently my dream had affected me more than I first though. With any luck, my Aunt will still be clueless to my shaky behavior.

    “Are you alright?” Lela asked.

    Crap. I have to come up with an excuse fast. They usually work. Either I’m a really good liar, or my Aunt is just plain oblivious to my lies. Maybe I’ll try telling the truth for once. Yeah, that could work. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

    “Another one?”

    “Yeah, they keep happening more frequently. I’m getting used to it though.”

    “Okay. Just, let me know if they get worse. I don’t want any acci—”

    Aunt Lela always avoided the word accident, no matter what the situation was. Did she think I would be hurt by it? I use the word accident all the time. It doesn’t make me think of it...most of the time. I’m over it. I’m over it.

    “You can say that word you know.”

    “Right. Anyway, are you finished with your breakfast? We should probably head off to school now.”

    The car ride to school passed in silence. It was awkward, but my Aunt’s own fault, not mine. She always had to make anything that involved my mom, my brother, car accidents, and me being blind, into a big deal and awkward moment. Not my fault, hers. If she has a problem with talking about it, then she can go to therapy. I went through it, and it helped. It was her sister that died and her nephew. She was left all alone to take care of a weird blind kid that had nothing special about her. That seems like enough problems to go to therapy for.

    My aunt dropped me off in front of the school, saying the usual, “I love you. Have a good day. Be careful,” speech that she always gave. My best – and only – friend Hope was waiting for me at the front entrance.

    I have never seen what Hope looks like. She’s told me that she has black curly hair, wore glass, and wasn’t the skinniest or fattest person in the school. I had asked her to tell me that much, and in my opinion, you have to real guts to tell a person that your overweight. For all I am concerned, she is nice and has a very sweet, very nasally sounding voice.

    We had met on the very first day I came to her school. Everyone else in the school resented me; I heard the whispers. They were mostly afraid of me. I’m blind. And like always, people fear what is different or new to them. I was sad and alone at lunch; until this nice girl, Hope, came to sit by me. We instantly became best friends. We were a pair, and the only friends we had were each other.

    Hope is a nerd. If she ever reads this, she will laugh and agree with me. She liked school and was into pretty much every nerdy thing you can think of: video games, Star Wars, Japanese cartoons, chess, and math. I don’t mind. I’m not as big as a nerd as she was, but I’m not going to break off a four year friendship just for that. I’ve even started to like some of things she does. She tried to teach me chess; but without seeing, it’s a really hard game.

    “Hey! Clair,” Hope shouted to me from the door as my Aunt drove away, “What’s up?”

    “Nothing really; I had another dream last night, the one about the accident,” I said.

    “Oh, well that sucks. Was it as vivid as it was last time?”

    “Yeah, even worse. I couldn’t stop shaking when I got up this morning, but it’s all good now.”

    We were now walking through the maze of hallways at school, heading to our locker. They are seriously confusing, and how I don’t get lost in them was still a mystery. There are so many random hallways that jutted off the main one that I am positive I have never been down. All the minor hallways then connected with even more minor hallways. It’s a maze that was built to become a blind person’s nightmare. Luckily I had Hope with me.

    Hope is allowed to leave her classes early so she can help me through the hallway. I didn’t need her help. My daily routine was the same, and I had the steps and turns covered. Her company was still nice to have, and it is nice to have her open our locker for us. We share a locker, and I would probably never be able to find it – let alone, open it - if I didn’t have Hope around.

    As we walked down the hall, I was pretty sure I heard someone whisper, “Dorks,” as they passed it. I just turned around and shouted “Jerk!” at the top of my lungs. I usually did that, even if the person thought I couldn’t hear them. You could whisper at least five feet away from me and I could hear it as if you were whispering right in my ear, even if the room is full of sound.

    The late bell rang. We hadn’t even heard the first bell. I had to get to my U.S. History class that I had with Hope. It was the only class we had together, and it just happened to be the most boring and have the strictest teacher. Hope ran headed dragging me along by the wrist. We probably looked even nerdier rushing to class like this. Hope was never late, even when she had permission to help me. School is her top priority.



    “Clair? Clair Vederno?”

    We walked into the room right as the grizzled old voice of Mr. Clark boomed across the classroom. “Here!” I cried.

    “Tardy, again,” Mr. Clark sounded annoyed, “but, alas, I cannot do anything about it.”

    “Thanks sir.” Hope led me to my seat in the back row. It was only obvious that I sat in the back row. I had no need to see what was written on the board. The fact that I was blind only made it easier to not pay attention; Mr. Clark could never tell if I was slipping or listening attentively. I enjoyed this.

    As soon as everyone was settled into class and Mr. Clark was done taking roll, he put on a boring movie about the Industrial Revolution. I’m sorry, but I don’t really care that much about how the invention of the steam engine or other inventions that we probably take for granted today. Mr. Clark always put on some boring video and never really bothered to teach. After he was sure everyone was paying attention to the video, he would either leave the classroom or sit at his desk reading a golf magazine and drinking Diet Coke.

    Mr. Clark was a fat lazy man. I knew he was fat because I could hear how much effort it took him to get out of his chair, and then how much it groaned under his weight as he sat back down. I knew he coached some pointless sport at the school and that was the only reason why he was here. I could also tell from his gravelly voice that he was a hard smoker; maybe one pack a day.

    I sat, uninterestingly listening to the boring monotonous voice of the narrator of the video. It seemed to take him forever to explain how one simple little thing worked and how it was invented; when really, if he tried, he could explain it in a minute. My first period class was going perfectly normal.

    The darkness began to fade. I could see it melting, and then dripping away out of my eyes. My eyes burning like hot coals out of a furnace, I had to rub them. The sudden bursts of light they were receiving were too much. I dug my knuckles into my eye sockets rubbing as hard as I could, which didn’t help rid me of the pain. When I pulled down my eyes, I wasn’t looking at what I remember a typical classroom setting looking like.



    I stood a little taller than what I knew my height being, in a large cavernous room. The walls were made of round purple stones randomly pasted into a dark grey plaster. Bright green torches were stationed, evenly-spaced along the wall, sending ominous green light dancing across the floor and ceiling. At the end of the room – directly across from me – were two long windows that looked out onto a dark landscape. I could still hear the voice from the video in class echoing across the walls, but it was slowly diminishing.

    I am a little shocked at what I was seeing. I mean; I am seeing. That hasn’t happened in years, except for in my dreams which don’t count. I’m not standing in my classroom, I know that much. I’m defiantly somewhere else, and somewhere much more ominous.

    Two tall figures stood in front of the tall windows. The one on the right, a woman, stood much taller than the figure on the left. She wore a long dark green cloak that covered most of her body, except for long strands of silver hair. The figure on the left, a boy, looked up at the woman in longing – almost as if he was waiting to hear a request. He had dark grey hair, which looks strange on a boy at his age. He looks like he is only a year or so older than me.

    “Are you positive you’ve found her this time?” the woman asked. She had a wispy and airy voice that floated through the room on the wind.

    “Yes, it’s her. I followed her this morning. Her aura is distinct,” the boy replied. He had an average voice for a boy of thirteen or fourteen. It cracked occasionally in the middle of his sentences.

    “Perfect,” the woman turned to stare out the window, “It is only a matter of time before she realizes the truth of who she is.”

    “She seems clueless. But if you say so, she may learn in time. I can tell she has sensed her ability many times before, but has yet to realize its full potential.”

    “Yes, so I can tell she has used it before as well. I’ve been watching her just as you have, but I was unaware of her location. Are you most positive that you have it this time? I don’t want to end up capturing the wrong girl and killing her in the process of bringing her here.”

    Whoa! I have no idea who these people are, but they sure meant business. I sure hope the girl they were talking about was okay. If only I knew who she was, I could warn her that someone was looking for her.

    “As I have said already, I know exactly where she is. I’ve walked passed her many times, but with her…disability she didn’t notice anything strange,” the boy sounded creepy that time.

    “Okay, I am far too busy to carry out the task of fetching her. I am giving you the task of bringing her here too me. If you have any problems, kill her on the spot. She would be better off dead than finding out the truth, but I can still use her as a weapon.”

    “Yes, my lady,” the boy got on one knee and bowed. As he got up he said his last words, “I will find Clair Vederno and bring her to you dead or alive.”
    Last edited by trapezechimpanz; 11th October 2007 at 6:17 PM.

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    Ooh. Interesting little thing we have going on here with these people looking for Clair. I can't wait to see exactly what's going to happen here. :3 And Hope seems just like me except for I have brown hair. XD All of her likes are just like mine, haha. Except for this little fixing here:

    Quote Originally Posted by trapezechimpanz
    strictest
    I'd change this to most strict. I don't think strictest is a word. ^^;

    Other than that, good job.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mimori Kiryu View Post
    Ooh. Interesting little thing we have going on here with these people looking for Clair. I can't wait to see exactly what's going to happen here. :3 And Hope seems just like me except for I have brown hair. XD All of her likes are just like mine, haha. Except for this little fixing here:



    I'd change this to most strict. I don't think strictest is a word. ^^;

    Other than that, good job.
    What part is that at? Weird that me or my computer didn't catch that.

    ~.:Bojangles|Mamba|Atlas:.~
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  8. #8
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    The late bell rang. We hadn’t even heard the first bell. I had to get to my U.S. History class that I had with Hope. It was the only class we had together, and it just happened to be the most boring and have the strictest teacher. Hope ran headed dragging me along by the wrist. We probably looked even nerdier rushing to class like this. Hope was never late, even when she had permission to help me. School is her top priority.
    Right as Clair's teacher called out to her. ^^
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    Well you've hooked another reader that's for sure.
    I loved it, great description, great storyline, and great characters! Can't wait for chapter 3.
    Keep it up

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    Quote Originally Posted by KaMaKaZi View Post
    Well you've hooked another reader that's for sure.
    I loved it, great description, great storyline, and great characters! Can't wait for chapter 3.
    Keep it up
    Thanks!

    On a different note: I'm sorry! I said I would post a chapter every week, but I didn't do one last week! I was sick, so atleast I have a reason. I should have chapter 3 up tomorrow.

    ~.:Bojangles|Mamba|Atlas:.~
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    This is looking pretty nice so far. There are just a couple of things that bug me...

    - The first thing is the transition into the dream near the start of Chap 1. It's really not very fluid at all, and I can see it getting confusing for someone who doesn't immediately realize it. "Wait, I thought the character was supposed to be blind?"

    -
    Now, ever since it had happened; I’ve lived a very uneventful life – luckily for me, that would soon change.
    This bit of foreshortening seems to be totally unnecessary, especially given the content of Chap 2. However, cutting the "luckily" part might make it take on a new meaning, perhaps tricking the reader into thinking the dream is foreshortening.

    -
    That’s it! I must only be a little kid, maybe eight or so – that makes me four years younger than I am now. Oh crap! I thought. If this was what I thought it was, I wanted it to stop right now – reliving this nightmare again would really suck!
    Somehow, considering her dread at experiencing the dream, I don't really think it fits for her to say that it "would really suck." That phrase, to me, speaks of a much more mundane dread, like going to face a math test you forgot to study for, or going to work on a day when you already know half of your coworkers have called out sick. The nature of her dream would make me expect a more serious phrase, like, "wasn't something I thought I could stand," or, "was not something I was looking forward to."

    There's a few other areas that don't really seem to fit the intended tone, most of which are similes and metaphors, so I'd go over it with a fine-toothed comb to make sure everything fits the mood.

    -
    I’m not traumatized from the accident; I’m over it. I’ve come to accept the fact that I no longer have any direct family members. My mom had died, and so had Joseph – at least, that is what they told me. I had never seen – well, felt – Joseph’s body after he had died, but I do know that we buried two coffins at the funeral service. As far as I’m concerned, I’m perfectly fine with living with my Aunt.
    I like how you handled her emotions here. It definitely seems like she's not really over the accident, but rather just trying to convince herself. However, she also seems to doubt her brother's death, which to me sounds like another example of premature foreshortening. If not, I'd probably reword it to make sure she seems to actually believe that Joseph is dead.

    - Near the last part of Chap 2, when Clair has the vision of the people who supposedly are after her... I assume this is a dream as well? If so, you should probably sort of hint at that by having the sound of the movie become a hypnotic droning, or have her realize that she's dreaming at the start, or something like that. Right now it just sounds like she astral-projected into the near future while temporarily regaining her sight.

    - There's a few places where you repeat the same words a few times close together. It's not too often, and they aren't all that close, but it's enough for me to notice.

    -------------------

    Anyway, I will say you do a good job of describing scenes, although I think a lot of physical descriptions should be made a little more vague, or focus on senses other than sight (like the way you described Lela's eating habits). For example, rather than saying that Hope told her she had curly hair and was slightly overweight, you could have Clair find those things out through her sense of touch or through other people's passing comments.

    Anyways, it seems to be shaping up rather nicely. I've got a slight suspicion as to what Clair's supposed powers are, but I'm interested in seeing if there are more that have yet to be alluded to.

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    ^^^
    Thanks. I'll have to go through and change a few things, Mostly the mood. The fore-shadowing stuff will stay as it is. I have the whole storyline planned out and perfectly fine with foreshadowing early. A lot of them seem like they are obvious, but trust me, it's not going to turn out how you think.

    A couple of people have told me that transition into the dream is confusing. I don't see why, but I did write it. There is a huge gap between them, like five spaces. At the beginning it has a more past tense to the way Clair is telling the story, because she has already lived it. Then it switches to her telling the story in a more present tense, starting with this car accident. I really can't think of a better way to transition it...

    I have noticed a lot of the mood stuff that you mentioned. Some of it bugs me, but some of the awkward different moods should be there. Not all of them though. I'm working more on editing grammer mistakes when I edit. I wasn't planning on making major editing to things until I was finished, but I might do it earlier.

    The dream at the end of Chapter 2, isn't a dream. That's all I'm going to say. Although, I'm not entirely happy with that part. I feel it should be longer. The conversation seems rushed, but like I said before I'm not editing stuff like that right now.

    Anyway, here is Chapter 3. It's a lot shorter than the other two.

    ----------------------------------

    Chapter 3

    “Clair?”

    Someone was shaking me, but I couldn’t see who. The ominous scene that I was just standing in began to fade back into darkness. It was like the news. One minute your paying attention to one program, the news interrupts for a special report, and then it goes back to your original programming. Thankfully that programming for me was twenty-four hour darkness.

    “Clair?” It was Hope shaking me. She was whispering, and sounded stern.

    I was back in my classroom where everything is boring, and nothing seems wrong. The boring Industrial Revolution video was still playing, and I was pretty sure Mr. Clark was no longer in the classroom – though I wasn’t totally sure how I had convinced myself of that. “Yeah, what?” I grunted, shaking off Hope’s hand in the process. I think I sounded a little meaner than how I meant to sound.

    “Well…it’s just – are you okay?” Hope asked.

    “Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

    “You’re just really pale, and have been staring at the front of the room for the past twenty minutes.”

    “I stare at things all the time Hope. You know that.”

    I wanted to go back to the room I was standing in, in my - would it be considered a dream? I don’t really remember falling asleep; in fact it doesn’t even feel like I slept at all. I know that what ever I just saw happened. It was real. I have to find out why those people want me. I can’t see why anyone would want to kill me, or why anyone would be looking for me. I’m not that special, just your typical blind girl. Don’t you just hate it when your dreams leave you hanging?

    These people obviously have to think I’m special in some way. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes the truth about who she really is. That’s what the woman had said, but what truth? Who am I, really? Have the past thirteen years of my life been a lie? No. I was positive of that. There must be something hidden inside of me waiting to come out, maybe it’s something from a past life? I’m not much of a Buddhist, but maybe these people are.

    I’m thinking to hard about this. It was probably just my imagination going wild when I got bored. It was nothing. No one is trying to find me or kill me. I’m not convincing myself of very much.

    “Clair,” Hope whispered, “you’re still worrying me. You keep blanking out.”

    “I’m sorry.” I said, “I just have a lot on my mind today because of the dreams I keep having.”

    “Oh…”

    Hope tends to avoid the subject of my dreams. They are usually very strange, and from her point of view, probably a very awkward conversation.

    “So, how much time is left in this class?” I asked, deciding to change the subject. I didn’t feel much like talking about the dream I had just had. I can just imagine trying to tell Hope that I had just seen two people I don’t know having a conversation about how they want to kill me, then continuing to say that believed it to be real. She would probably suggest that I tell somebody, and then make me promise to tell my aunt. My aunt would try to put me in therapy. We can just see how if I keep quiet, everything turns out better for everyone… or it ends in death for me.

    “We have about five minutes left.” Hope answered my question, “I don’t think the clock is moving fast enough.” She laughed. I could already tell this conversation was a little awkward, despite my attempt at changing the subject. I sat back and watched the movie for the rest of class.



    The hallways were overcrowded, as usually, and students pushed, shoved and yelled as the rushed to their next class. Hope and I on the other hand, took our sweet time and made a stop in the bathroom. Since we both had an excuse for being late to class, we took complete and total advantage of it. We would walk slow, make a few stops, and occasionally just sit and talk while we waited to get to our class. All we really had to worry about was making sure we weren’t too late, that way the teacher didn’t suspect anything.

    By the time we were done in the bathroom, the bell had rung and the halls were empty. There wasn’t much to do and I wanted to avoid talking about my dreams as much as possible, so I started walking. Hope stopped me.

    “Hey Clair, I think we should talk.” She sounded worried, “You haven’t been quiet yourself today.” She sounded like my mother.

    “I know. It’s just the dreams; I can’t seem to get them off my mind.” I said.

    “Well what are these dreams?”

    “I already told you about them.”

    “It’s seems like there is more,” Hope protested, “I know you have the vivid dream of the night your mom and brother died, but you always say you’re over it and it doesn’t effect. Then why, might I ask, is it effecting you so much today?”

    “You’re right there is more—”

    “Well, then tell me!”

    “I had another dream during History class—”

    “I knew you were sleeping during that class!”

    “No, it wasn’t like that. It was like I was actually standing in the dream; it was all too real. It wasn’t like I had fallen asleep.”

    “You say that about most of your dreams.”


    “This time it was different Hope! I don’t know how to explain it, but somehow I know I wasn’t sleeping.”

    “So you were seeing?”

    “Yes and No… I was somewhere else.” I decided I would leave the whole thing out about people looking for me and wanting me dead or alive. Hope doesn’t have to know everything.

    “So you were dreaming…”

    “No! I already said I wasn’t asleep!” I knew I didn’t want this conversation to start; I should have made a change of subject at the beginning and avoided the whole thing like I planned. I didn’t want to talk anymore so I stormed off.

    “Clair…” Hope said. She could tell I was upset.

    “What?” I said.

    “Where are you going?”

    “To class, where else would I be going?” Seriously, Hope had her dumb moments.

    “It would probably help if you were going the right direction. Class is the other way.” Then again, I have my dumb moments too. We both laughed and started walking in the right direction to Science class, but there was a deeper laugh mingled in with ours. I had assumed the halls were wrong, but I guess I was mistaken.

    I turned around and spoke to whoever had laughed along with us, “It’s not nice to listen in on other people’s conversations you know.”

    “I know… sorry,” His voice was deep, but had a high pitched squeal hidden underneath. The two sounds mixed together perfectly to make the tune of his voice. Strangely enough, I liked that sound. “It’s just a little hard to not listen when you two talking is the only sound in the hallway. Besides, I have a question for you.”

    “What might that be?” I asked.

    “I was wondering if you could tell me where…room…two-twelve is. I’m a new student here” He paused in what I found as awkward places in his sentence, and rushed towards the end. He is probably just nervous on his first day.

    “We have that class right now,” Hope said.

    “I can show you where it is.” I said

    “Are you sure?” He laughed, “Earlier it seemed like you didn’t even know where it was.”

    “I guess you’re right. Hope knows the school better than I do.” I wonder if he’s noticed I’m blind yet. If he hasn’t, he must be stupid.

    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Clair and this is my friend Hope.” I sure wish it was Hope I was pointing at when I said her name, “and your name is…”

    “Diggory.”

    “Interesting name,” Hope said.

    We started walking towards room two-twelve, where Science class was held. Like history, I found that class boring, but hopefully this time I would have more than just Hope to talk to. It does get a little dull talking to the same person over and over again. I’ve always wanted another friend, and new students are typically the easiest to become friends with. I’m sure there have probably been plenty of other new students before Diggory, but it’s hard to notice them when you can’t see anyone new there.
    Last edited by trapezechimpanz; 25th October 2007 at 2:08 PM.

    ~.:Bojangles|Mamba|Atlas:.~
    ~.:Opal & Topaz:.~
    ~.:Soul:.~

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