TAKE WING!I

Chatterbox: Inkwell

TAKE WING!I

TAKE WING!

I know that several of you are on the NaNoWriMo Young Writers site. I wanted to share the story I'm writing on it with you all. (It's also on the Critiques and Novel Feedback" forum.) I know that you will never judge me or make fun of me. And I also know that even if nobody ever reads this story, I will have at least posted it here. I've also included a short section of it here, and a form from NaNo that tells you a little bit about it.

Length: 8,000 words so far, but more every day!

Language: English

Brief Summary: A teenage orphaned girl, Zoey, discovers her heroic destiny in a far-off land populated with dragons, Fae, unicorns, and so much more. But the more time she spends here, the more she realizes that not everything is as it seems. An evil is rising, and only she can stop it.

Known issues: Not everything makes as much sense on paper as it does in my head...

Critique would be much appreciated! While I do like all the "oh yeah it's great keep doing that", I also want honest feedback. If you think something could be improved upon, let me know! 

This is an excerpt from the first chapter. There's also a prologue and several more chapters. If anyone posts that they're interested in reading the rest, I'll post it.

 

And the prince and the princess lived happily ever after. The End.

I sigh happily and close the book of fairy tales. I’ve always liked them. Fairy tales always end well-- even if my story doesn’t.

Case in point: middle school gym class.

I’ve been “excused” from “physical activity” because I’m, apparently, “malnourished”. That’s a fancy way of saying that all the rich parents of the rich kids at the oh-so-fancy Northbrook Academy don’t want me messing up their kids’ PE class.

I’m the charity case here at Northbrook, picked up out of the orphanage a year and a half ago. I’ve been here ever since. They want me here to show how “kind” and “generous” they are, by allowing a nobody like me to have an education as good as people like them.

Or so I’m told, only about, oh, one million or so times a day.

“Hey, charity case!” one of the other students calls as a ball rolls to a stop on the floor beside me. “Throw back the ball!”

I roll my eyes, and for a second I consider ignoring him, just out of spite.

“Fine,” I call back, and kick it vaguely in his direction. It lands at the feet of the most popular girl in the school, Shaina Wintermere. She cringes back.

“Eww! I don’t want to touch it now! The charity case touched it!” she shrieks. The class laughs, and some shoot me dirty looks-- apparently just for existing.

Shaina’s boyfriend, Justin Glendale, runs over to her.

“Kick it here,” he says, holding out his hands to catch it. The students are playing some sort of game that involves both kicking and catching.

Shaina half-heartedly nudges the ball with her toe, and he picks it up.

Justin nods at me. “Thanks,” he says, then runs back into the thick of the game.

I think the humid gym air must have muddled my malnourished brain. The most popular boy in school can’t have just looked at me, much less thanked me. I decide it’s a hallucination brought on by too many fairy tales.

By the time gym ends, I have re-read half the book of fairy tales, and the ball hasn’t rolled back over here once. When the bell rings and all the students pour out the door of the locker room, I stand up and stretch. My academy uniform-- a black pleated skirt, white collared top, and a blue tie-- is slightly too large for me, and it’s gotten all wrinkled from the folded position I’ve been in the last few hours.

I hear Shaina and her followers snicker as they pass me, their perfectly-fitting uniforms looking like they just came out of the bag. I tug self-consciously at my own uniform.

As I’m leaving the gym after the other kids, a hand lands on my shoulder. I whip around. It’s… Justin?

He falters when he sees my angry expression. That anger isn’t directed at him, exactly-- more like at Northbrook as a whole.

“I just wanted… to… um, to thank you, I guess,” he says, hesitating. “For, um, kicking that ball towards me.”

I snort. “You make it sound like some life-changing event. I kicked a ball. End of story. You’re welcome.”

Justin nods. “And, um…” Now he seems just flat-out uncomfortable. I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name,” he blurts out, then stares at his shoes.

I shrug. “Charity case. That’s what all of you call me, isn’t it?”

I start walking away. I’ll be late if I stay talking much longer.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, and I turn slightly over my shoulder.

“What?” I ask.

Justin looks up from his inspection of his shoes to meet my eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for calling you a charity case all this time. It was really mean.”

He sticks out his hand. “Justin,” he says.

“I know,” I say. “Zoey.”

Then I turn and walk away, to Ms. Muiller’s English-Language Arts class.

 

 

I hope that shows up correctly... it might not. Oh well.

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 6, 2017 - 5:53 pm)

First of all, this is actually me, Starseeker, topping this so that it doesn't fall down into the Depths of Despair. Second of all, yay! The copy/pasting I did from the actual thing on Google Docs to here did turn out correctly!! More or less. It left out the tabbing at the beginning of each paragraph and the italics on the first line, but other than that it looks pretty good!

~Starseeker 

submitted by TOP, age TOP, TOP
(September 6, 2017 - 8:15 pm)

That was super good! I feel there might be a ship between Zoey and Justin, and the girls will call it (drum roll please [gets sighs and ughs instead]) JUSTIN CASE! (Just in case? Anyone?)

Ok, besides that horrible joke, I really think Justin might be involved in the magical world you mentioned. Is Charity case supposed to be a nickname? I suppose if it were to be a "name" given to her, the Case would have to capitalized as if it were her last name. Or maybe that's just my mind jumping to conclusions. Either way, that was beautiful! It really brings the reader into the situation. I unfortunately don't have time for NaNoWriMo this month, but keep up the good work!

submitted by Storm Windwhisperer, age 13, Fuar Peak
(September 6, 2017 - 8:23 pm)

Okay, I'll post the prologue, the rest of the forst chapter, and the next few chapters in here now! But I'll do them in separate posts so that I don't overload the Chatterbox system. :)

Also, I don't believe there's going to be a ship between Justin and Zoey, though there might be. And hahaha puns! Yes, charity case is a nickname, although it is a very mean one the other students at Northbrook have given her. I think I might change that scene later, though, because you're the second person (one's irl) that's asked me if charity case is her name.

Eventually, waaaay later on in the book, I think Justin and another character you'll meet in the first chapter get to go to that magical world with Zoey. I'm uncertain at this point. But if I do make that happen, it'll not be for a long time, since (not revealing anything) there's a lot that needs to happed to Zoey between now and then.

Looking forward to your comments on the next chapters!

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 11:30 am)

I really like it SK far! Please post more! I agree with Storm, I think Justin Case could be a thing. (Actually, Storm, I kinda like it XD) I don't see any major flaws yet, so keep up the good work! If I got this book at the library, I would definitely keep reading reading it. 

submitted by Leeli
(September 7, 2017 - 8:05 am)

Wow, this is really good! I can't wait for more!

submitted by unsuspectingstrytllr
(September 7, 2017 - 8:49 am)

Great work, Starseeker!!!

@unsuspectingstrytllr!! HI! I haven't seen you around the CB in FOREVER! Where've you been???? 

submitted by Silverwaxwing
(September 7, 2017 - 10:13 am)

Prologue

Many years ago…

The sapphire dragon anxiously waited in the thick mist. He shivered. Even though he knew there was nothing there that could possibly hurt him, he felt uneasy.

“You came,” said a voice behind him. The dragon spun around, baring his teeth. “Oh,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “It’s just you.”

“Just me?” the voice said playfully, the owner emerging from the mist. It was a human female, with fiery red hair and flowing midnight robes. Her teal eyes sparkled with teasing.

“Zalia…” he sighed.

She retorted, “Oh, fine, Stratus!”, just as another figure emerged from the mist.

“If you two are done bantering like little fillies, we can get on with our meeting,” the figure said. As it stepped forward, Stratus could see it was Jupiter, a wise unicorn friend of his. Jupiter’s snowy mane was beginning to grey, but his silver horn still shone as brightly as it had centuries ago.

“Yes, just why have you called us here, Jupiter?” Zalia asked curiously.

Jupiter took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Something is not right with the land,” he said. “Something evil has stirred. Something… long forgotten, and better left alone.”

“The Three?” Stratus said fearfully. He had not been alive when the Three last rose, but his great-great-grandfather had, and he had been raised on tales of the Three’s evil deeds.

“Perhaps…” Jupiter said thoughtfully.

Stratus turned to Zalia for a second opinion, only to gasp in horror. For she was floating in the air, and her usual blue eyes blazed green.

“Wha--” Stratus started, only to be cut off by Jupiter.
“Ssh,” he said, “let her speak.”

When Zalia finally spoke, her voice whispered with the spirits of long past.

Three Heroes Born To End The Fight

Three Heroes Come To Repel The Night

Save Or Raze The Land They Will

Fate Shall Unfold On Night Of Quill

A Maiden Of The Raven Hair

Shall Come To You From Lands Out There

Time Ago Banished Here

Far Away Across The Mere

A Pure Descendant Of Cloud

True, Honest, and Golden Browed

Does Always Noble Endeavor

And Shall Be One Of Three Heroes Forever

One That Does Not Fit

One That Cannot Flit

Scorned By Those Who Cannot Foresee

He Will Be One Of Destined Three

An Evil Is Coming To Choke The Land

All Will Perish By Their Hand

Time Again Will Repeat

Unless The Evil Can Be Beat…”

Stratus whimpered in fear. Zalia’s eyes blazed brighter and he was forced to look  away. When he looked back, she was lying crumpled on the ground. Stratus gasped and surged forward, but Jupiter was already there. Zalia sat up, rubbing her head. She looked confused when she saw Jupiter and Stratus bending over her.
“What-- what happened?” she asked.

Stratus babbled, “You were floating, and then your eyes were glowing, and then you were talking, but it was weird, and it rhymed, and your voice was all slithery, and--”

Jupiter cut him off. “You seem to have gotten the Gift,” he said.

“The Gift? What in all the lands is the Gift?” demanded Stratus.

Jupiter turned to him. “The Gift of Sight, or the Gift for short, is something Zalia’s ancestors had. It allows the recipient to see snatches of the future, and the voices of the past to speak through a mortal form. It only appears in times of great trouble. The last time it appeared was…”

“When the Three last appeared,” Zalia cut in. Her eyes were far away and troubled.

Stratus gulped. “Does that mean…”

Zalia nodded. “The Three are back.”

~~~
So, that's the prologue. It's not the best and brightest of my writing so far, but it gets the prophecy out. (I slaved HARD AND LONG over that prophecy, so please be gentle in your critiques on it. Thanks.)
~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 11:36 am)

Wow, thanks guys! It means a lot to me that you guys like it! I didn't see any of your posts until after I'd posted something back to Storm but thanks so much for the encouragement!

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 11:39 am)

Me again. I know I said I would post the first chapter, but I haven't actually finished it yet. I added it on to the beginning. The second and third chapters are done, however. Give me a day or two and I should have the first chapter completed, and then I will also post the second and third chapters. Then there's going to be a big gap as I finish the fourth chapter. And so on. Sometimes I can have a flash of imagination and it takes me only a few hours to write a chapter, but other times, I have no time to write and no imagination either. Bear with me here!

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 1:44 pm)

xD have I really been gone that long.?Idk, I've been busy with school starting and stuff :P ... I've been checking up on the CB but never had much time to post.

submitted by @Silverwaxwing, unsuspectingstrytllr
(September 7, 2017 - 1:45 pm)

I like the writing style- it's good, easy to read, and flows together nicely. The plot could end up being cliche if you're not careful, though. You know, the girl gets transported to corrupted land sort of thing? I think that if you continue in the way you have been, and keep it interesting, it'll be a great story. 

submitted by Pepper Star
(September 7, 2017 - 6:17 pm)

I got really excited and finished the first chapter! So here it is: the first official chapter of Take Wing. Now there's going to be a bit of a pause while I edit the second chapter. (Authors, you know how there's that one character that always worms their way in to your story? That character is Kelsey. She was barely supposed to be in the story at all, and now she's shown up in the first chapter. So now i have to do some editing in the second to account for that.)

~~~

Chapter 1

And the prince and the princess lived happily ever after. The End.

I sigh happily and close the book of fairy tales. I’ve always liked them. Fairy tales always end well-- even if my story doesn’t.

Case in point: middle school gym class.

I’ve been “excused” from “physical activity” because I’m, apparently, “malnourished”. That’s a fancy way of saying that all the rich parents of the rich kids at the oh-so-fancy Northbrook Academy don’t want me messing up their kids’ PE class.

I’m the charity case here at Northbrook, picked up out of the orphanage a year and a half ago. I’ve been here ever since. They want me here to show how “kind” and “generous” they are, by allowing a nobody like me to have an education as good as people like them.

Or so I’m told, only about, oh, one million or so times a day.

“Hey, charity case!” one of the other students calls as a ball rolls to a stop on the floor beside me. “Throw back the ball!”

I roll my eyes, and for a second I consider ignoring him, just out of spite.

“Fine,” I call back, and kick it vaguely in his direction. It lands at the feet of the most popular girl in the school, Shaina Wintermere. She cringes back.

“Eww! I don’t want to touch it now! The charity case touched it!” she shrieks. The class laughs, and some shoot me dirty looks-- apparently just for existing.

Shaina’s boyfriend, Justin Glendale, runs over to her.

“Kick it here,” he says, holding out his hands to catch it. The students are playing some sort of game that involves both kicking and catching.

Shaina half-heartedly nudges the ball with her toe, and he picks it up.

Justin nods at me. “Thanks,” he says, then runs back into the thick of the game.

I think the humid gym air must have muddled my malnourished brain. The most popular boy in school can’t have just looked at me, much less thanked me. I decide it’s a hallucination brought on by too many fairy tales.

By the time gym ends, I have re-read half the book of fairy tales, and the ball hasn’t rolled back over here once. When the bell rings and all the students pour out the door of the locker room, I stand up and stretch. My academy uniform-- a black pleated skirt, white collared top, and a blue tie-- is slightly too large for me, and it’s gotten all wrinkled from the folded position I’ve been in the last few hours.

I hear Shaina and her followers snicker as they pass me, their perfectly-fitting uniforms looking like they just came out of the bag. I tug self-consciously at my own uniform.

As I’m leaving the gym after the other kids, a hand lands on my shoulder. I whip around. It’s… Justin?

He falters when he sees my angry expression. That anger isn’t directed at him, exactly-- more like at Northbrook as a whole.

“I just wanted… to… um, to thank you, I guess,” he says, hesitating. “For, um, kicking that ball towards me.”

I snort. “You make it sound like some life-changing event. I kicked a ball. End of story. You’re welcome.”

Justin nods. “And, um…” Now he seems just flat-out uncomfortable. I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name,” he blurts out, then stares at his shoes.

I shrug. “Charity case. That’s what all of you call me, isn’t it?”

I start walking away. I’ll be late if I stay talking much longer.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, and I turn slightly over my shoulder.

“What?” I ask.

Justin looks up from his inspection of his shoes to meet my eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for calling you a charity case all this time. It was really mean.”

He sticks out his hand. “Justin,” he says.

“I know,” I say. “Zoey.”

Then I turn and walk away, to Ms. Muiller’s English-Language Arts class.

✧✧✧

At the end of the day, I walk out of the school building and down the worn gravel path to the girl’s dormitories. I think about my day. Other than Justin after 5th period gym class, no one has spoken to me at all today. And when I answer a question in class and the other students look to see who’s speaking, they stare right at a point over my right shoulder. I don’t even know how they all manage to do that. I mean, is there a telepathic message that I missed? Only stare at the charity case’s right shoulder? Or is there some creature sitting there that only snobby rich kids can see? Oh, lookie there, it’s a Schnordelheide, on the charity case’s shoulder! It’s much more interesting than the charity case! Let’s all stare at the Schnordelheide!

I’m pulled out of my reverie by a loose stone in the path, which I promptly trip over.

“Ouch,” I mutter.

Giggles emerge from the woods beyond the path. Supposedly, there’s a stream in there, which gives Northbrook its name. Many have searched for it, but none have found it. It’s become a bit of a dormitory legend, at least from what I can tell, listening to the other girls whisper once they think I’m asleep.

“Who’s there?” I call into the dark woods.

More giggles.

I sigh. It’s probably just a group of girls trying to make fun of me, or maybe some students having a party with stolen food and drink.

Either way, I forge onward on the path, and after what seems like forever, I reach the dorms. The dorms are three big brick buildings, each with a Greek letter on the front: Alpha, Delta, and Gamma. I stay in Delta dorm. It’s in the worst repair of the three, with crumbling brick walls, faded and chipped white accents, and a door that creaks whenever you open it. Still, it’s better than an alleyway or the orphanage. Unlike the orphanage, it has a more-or-less working heating and cooling system, and unlike an alleyway, it has a more-or-less solid roof.

Delta dorm is populated with the dregs of the rich kids-- the girls that aren’t quite as rich as the others, or that have ticked the richer kids off in one way or another. Supposedly, the Head of School, Mrs. Tryst, makes “random selections” when placing the enrolled kids in dorms. But always, somehow, the popular kids, like Shaina, end up in Alpha dorm, which has two flat screen TVs, a game console, and more beautifully furnished bathrooms than I can count.

I guess, with enough money, you can do anything you want.

I push open the aforementioned creaky door with the crookedly-hanging delta symbol. Once inside, I head straight towards the stairs, quickly passing the other rooms full of laughing and fun-having girls. I don’t want to talk to them, and the feeling is certainly reciprocated. Nobody even notices as I slip up the stairs into the small room I share with four other girls, named-- I couldn’t make this up-- Macie, Casie, Lacy, and Tracey. I don’t know how they tell each other apart. I certainly can’t. I just call them the “C Squad” in my head. They’re always wearing identical high, flippant ponytails, and their school uniforms are always just a little too tight around their busts.

Luckily for me, the C Squad isn’t here right now-- they’re probably visiting friends in other dorms or something. The four girls have squashed their beds, plus matching pink and orange bedspreads, onto the wall opposite my bed. I suppose they, like everyone else, wants to stay as far away from the charity case as possible.

I flop down onto my own black-and-blue bedspread and sigh. The book of fairy tales I finished today was my last one. I’ll have to run by the library tomorrow after class and pick up a few new ones. Even though I don’t have an official library card, the librarian always lets me borrow books from her.

“Just remember to return them,” she always says with a wink.

I absent-mindedly rub the toe I stubbed on the loose rock in the path. It doesn’t hurt, exactly; more like it’s irritated at me.

Join the club, I say to it mentally, then frown. I don’t think I have enough social interaction if I’ve taken up talking to my toes.

Just then, the C Squad flounces in the door, laughing and talking to each other.

“So what did he do next?” one of them-- Casie? Tracey?-- asks.

Another member-- Macie? Lacy?-- sees me and falters. “I’ll tell you later,” she says.

The rest of the C Squad sees me then, too, and they fall silent as well, only occasionally whispering to each other as they gather up the hair supplies scattered across the room. One of them-- Tracey? Lacy?-- actually flinches as I roll over on my bed to face the wall.

The C Squad finds what they’re looking for and silently shuffles out, their happy conversations resuming after they’re in the hall. I know they just didn’t want me to hear. This should sting, but it doesn’t. Not after a year and a half of it.

I roll back over on my bed and stare at their beds, a fierce wave of hatred washing over me. How dare they laugh, and talk, and have fun while I’m here, in the corner, alone? How dare they leave me out! I mean, it’s not like I’m invisible, right? I’m here, I’m a human, and whatever Shaina says, I’m not any dirtier or any cleaner than these stupid, foolish, rich kids jerks!

I glare at the C Squad’s beds so hard my eyes begin to hurt. I hate them so much. I hate their perfect ponytails, their matching blue eyes, everything.

I thought I was over my emotions, after a year and a half of being ridiculed. Of being ignored. Of letting people treat me like a piece of trash so often that I began to believe it myself.

All I can see is red and black.

Red like rage and blood.

Black like death and bones.

Red.

Black.

Red.

Black.

REDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONESREDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONES.

A thought occurs to me through my red and black rage haze. Not all of the red and black I’m seeing is just in my mind. A corner of one of the C Squad’s beds is starting to turn black, like ink soaking up the fabric.

I almost don’t want it to stop. I’m so furious, so angry, so tired of being ignored, that I want that inky black to soak up all the orangey pink of the bedspreads.

A wave of fear washes over me. What am I doing? How am I doing this?

I try and stop the wash of red and black in my vision, but it’s like my rage has taken over.

All my mind can think is REDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONESREDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONES.

“Stop it,” I say aloud, desperately. The inky blackness continues to spread, and the red and black continues to pulse in my vision.

I close my eyes, but the colors remain. Stop it, I think as fiercely as I can.

REDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONES, echoes my mind.

Stop it, I think again, directing it at the back of my mind, where the source of the red-black haze lingers. Stop it right now.

The furious thoughts don’t abate in the slightest. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on taking deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside of me.

No change.

A wave of fear, stronger this time, washes over me again. The inky blackness creeping over the bedspread slows, and finally stops as my fear grows.

I take a deep breath, then another, and another. The tide of black on the C Squad’s bedspreads starts to retreat back to whatever depths it came from.  

“Go,” I say angrily. “Just go.”

“Do you mean me?” a voice says from the doorway, and I flip my head back to see an upside-down girl, leaning against the doorframe, with a suitcase in one hand and a backpack slung over the other shoulder.

She’s not actually upside-down-- it’s the angle I’m looking at her. I sit up to get a better look at her. She has straight reddish-brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and skinny blue jeans. Her face is dotted with freckles, and her hazel eyes peer at me curiously.

I realize I’ve been staring at her for a while now. I clear my throat.

“Um, no, I don’t mean you. I was, just, um, well…”

The girl raises and eyebrow, a skill I’m rather fond of. I didn’t realize it looked that epic, though. I think I’ll start using it more often.

“Talking to yourself? Or maybe your inner demons? Something like that?” she finishes.

“Something like that,” I agree. There’s no way I’m going to tell a girl I just met what happened. I don’t even know what happened, anyway.

The girl sticks out a hand, the nails painted with a teal polish.

“Kelsey,” she says. “Kelsey Cooper.”

I hesitantly shake her hand. “Zoey.” I say, waiting for the inevitable question.

The girl raises her eyebrow again. “Zoey…”

I shake my head. “Just Zoey.”

The girl-- Kelsey-- nods, but still looks confused. I don’t feel like explaining how I was picked up off the streets, or how I don’t know who my parents are.

There’s an awkward silence. Then Kelsey breaks it.

“Well,” she says, “I’m Kelsey, but you already knew that, because, I mean, I just told you that.”

This time, it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m new here,” Kelsey continues. “I just moved here from New Jersey. Before that I lived in Missouri, and before that was Washington, and even before that was Kentucky. Before all of that, though, I was born in Wisconsin.”

I nod, not finding anything to comment on.

Kelsey goes on. “I was told to find Room 13 in Delta Dorm. This is it, right?”

I nod once again, and spread my arms.

“My humble abode,” I say magnanimously, needing to say something after all the head-nodding and eyebrow-raising. And if I was going to say something, why not make it dramatic?

“Who else sleeps here?” Kelsey asks, spying the other four beds on that far wall. I cross my fingers and hope that she doesn’t notice the small blot of black that still remains on one of the C Squad’s beds.

“Tracey, Casie, Lacy, and Macie,” I say, and Kelsey bursts out laughing. Her laugh sounds like a mix between a dolphin and a witch. It’s strangely compelling, though, and I feel like laughing myself.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Kelsey says, her laughter dying down but a sunny smile remaining.

“Nope,” I say, my own lips stretching to match her grin. “Those are actually their names.”

“How do you tell them apart?” she asks, and I shrug.

“I don’t,” I reply. “I just call them the C Squad.”

Kelsey laughs again.

“The C Squad,” she repeats. “I like that.”

Of course, the C Squad chooses this moment to approach the door.

One of them-- Macie wrinkles her nose.

“Why are you blocking the door to our room?” she says.

Kelsey quickly steps aside, into the room, dragging her suitcase behind her.

“Oops, sorry,” she says as the C Squad brushes past her. They flop on their beds and immediately whip out their phones and start typing.

Kelsey rolls her eyes at me. I shrug. This is what they’re like all the time.

Kelsey rolls her suitcase over beside my bed and snaps the handle down. The sharp sound causes the C Squad to look up from their texting.

“Well,” Kelsey says, clearing her throat, “I’m Kelsey.”

The C Squad looks her up and down, and their noses wrinkle more. They go back to their texting.

Kelsey clears her throat again, and the C Squad looks up again, this time in annoyance.

“Who are you guys?” Kelsey prods.

The one on the far left sighs dramatically.

“Tracey,” she says, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Macie,” echoes the one on the bed to Tracey’s left.

“Lacy,” says the girl to Macie’s left, and the one remaining girl says, “Casie.”

I note that although their overall appearances are the same, they have subtle differences. Casie, for example, has a small smattering of freckles across her nose. Macie has hazel eyes, while Lacy has clear blue ones. And Tracey’s hair is straighter than the others’.

Then, in unison, they all go back to texting-- a clear dismissal.

Kelsey shrugs at me, and I grin back. Suddenly, as Kelsey spreads a blue sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed, Northbrook Academy doesn’t seem so bad after all.

~~~

I would really like some critique on the "REDRAGEBLOODBLACKDEATHBONES" part of it! That part i just couldn't figue out how to write. So anything would be appreciated! Thanks so much for you guys taking the time to read this story!!

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 7:17 pm)

*sees the REDBLACK thingie*

*wonders where I've heard that before*

AHA!

DO HEAR THE PEOPLE SING SINGING A SONG OF ANGRY MEN THE MUSIC OF A PEOPLE WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGIAN...

 

THE COLOR OF THE WORLD IS CHANGING RED THE BLOOD OF ANGRY MEN BLACK THE DARK OF AGES PAST!!

 

 

 

Anywayyy... Good job! I just couldn't help but be reminded of Les Mis. :)

submitted by Shy Peacock, Tree of Life
(March 15, 2018 - 4:27 pm)

So this is really late from when you first posted this, and I’m sure you’ve caught this by now but when I was going back to check something, I noticed that at first you say “their matching blue eyes” and then later on you say how one of the C Squad has hazel eyes. *throws comfetti for run on sentences*

Anyway, its really good!

Previously known as Young Writer 

submitted by Licensed Bookworm
(April 18, 2018 - 12:32 pm)

Me yet again. :) 

I've just added a new part to my book, at the very end. It's a Thank-You page to all those have helped me along the way. I've added all of you who have posted encouragement and critique so far, and whenever someone else posts, I'll add them too!

Thank you guys so much! I can never really say it enough!!!

~Starseeker 

submitted by Starseeker, age 156 moons, Enterprise
(September 7, 2017 - 7:26 pm)