Actually and in all honesty everything that I have read in this thread was pretty impressive.  I left the CB for so long, now that I'm back I realize no one (I know) these days can write.  I find it really sad.

This is just something I thought up yesterday... I don't really think it's going anywhere because I have a tendency to leave things hanging/hate my own writing.

This is something sci-fi-ish, but not deviating that much from the present.  I don't know.  In the future when they are talking I might add dialogue, an make it like the introduction to the story.  Or I might flashback to that conversation throughout the story.  I'm thinking.  Please feel free to lay on the "constructive criticism" (aka "crushingly truthful remarks.")

            Ocean and sky meet in a collision of blue across the darkening horizon.  The first tentative stars burst in the navy-blue expanse above me, and the night creatures lift themselves to the surface to soak up the gentle light of the moon.  All around me, there is a glowing, a flickering of light in a world of darkness.  All around me, there is a beauty, a kindness, an understanding.

            This is where I come when things go wrong. It is my refuge, where I feel safe.  In a world where there is so little left to be happy for, I find it here in abundance.  I feel it in the way the sun colors the water all shades of pink and orange; in the way the trees sway lazily; in the excited, lovesick chattering of the birds hidden in them.

            A tropical breeze washes over the coast, cloaking me in warmth.  I begin to feel drowsy listening to the soothing lapping of the sea, the shussshhing sound of the palm leaves.  But I am waiting, waiting for Malcolm, and mustn’t drift off.

            I dig my feet into the cool sand.  My toes are polished, bright blue.  I think about Mother leaving; about my Unionfaith-Father; about Julie, how I miss her; about the Sector wars; about how I wasn’t going to be pretty enough to move to the Second Phase.  Once again, I lose myself in worry.

            But soon, a familiar tanned arm reaches around me from behind, and Malcolm pulls me into his chest.

            “Hello darling,” he says, in the most beautiful voice I have heard in my 14 years of life.

            I laugh in surprise, which turns into a sigh as I let myself relax.  My love is here, I think to myself. It’s as if the birds suddenly start singing again. 

            We talk nonstop long into the night. We talk of nothing, but it is everything to us.  I laugh for the first time in more than a week, which is when I saw Malcolm last. He is the only thing that I don’t have to worry about and, sadly, the only person alive I don’t have to hate.

            In a world where we are not allowed to be young, here we are: unavoidably, totally, and simply young.  And despite what They tell us, it’s fantastic.

                        Before I leave to go back to Dorms, Malcolm grabs my hand.

“Promise me something, Shay.  Promise me that you will remember that whatever happens, you will never truly be alone.”

They have ways of making us forget.

            I have grown accustomed to something else now.  I don’t feel the way I used to.  I must focus on one thing or another now, rather than everything at the same time.  I must not be the way I was.  I must learn how to be like Them.

            They say I was not meant to be that way. I wasn’t meant to love.  I wasn’t meant to care, or worry.  The only thing I must do is to be with Them; I must be like Them.

They want me to be one of Them.

Thank you so much! Here's the next part. 

Chapter2

Momand I sat at the circular oak table eating breakfast when the phone rang.

“I’llget it!” My mom exclaimed abruptly. She stood up and took the phone that washanging on the wall.

“Hello.”She said.  She nodded and rolledher eyes. “Yes, yes… Uh huh. Of course she has experience!” Mom was silent fora moment. She was thinking. “Sure. Yes, she may. Ok, yes. I know. Good Bye.”

Momhung up the phone and looked at me. A smile broke out on her face.

“You’regoing!” I dropped my fork. “Really?!” I yelled, my mouth full of corn flakes.“Thank you!! Thank you!! Thank you!!”

Igave mom a huge hug. “You’re welcome.” She said smoothing my tangled brownhair.

***

Iheaved my orange and blue hiking backpack onto my shoulders. It’s heavinesspulled me down and made me feel as if I was carrying a mountain.

“Areyou sure?” Mom asked for the millionth time. I rolled my eyes and turned around.“Everything’s going to be fine. It’s just for the weekend.” I told her.

Mom’sface was still filled with worry and she looked at me as if I was going toanother country. Finally she nodded and walked towards the car.

“Jumpin!”

Wepulled up in a small parking lot right next to where the gondola went up. Agroup of kids around my age stood around impatiently waiting to go up.

Igrabbed my backpack from the back seat and slammed the car door. I looked up atmy mom and smiled.

“I’llbe fine.” I assured her. Her face softened slightly. “Come here honey.” Ihugged her really tightly. She smelled like lavender shampoo and cocoa butter.I breathed in deeply. I would remember that smell on my hike.

Aftera bit I let go and she mustered a smile. “Have fun.” I waved as I walked overto the other kids.

Thechattering group didn’t take much notice of me. I was fine with that. I crossedmy arms and looked up at the mountains.

Theirsnowy caps pierced the blue sky. I could make out the dark brown rock and agondola coming down slowly. Dad used to go here. Mom and I had gone up and puta cross up on one of the hills.  Iwould see it when I got up there.

Avoice broke into my thoughts. “Hey!” I spun around and came face to face with agirl.

Shehad short spiky blond hair with her bangs pushed to the side. Her pale cheekswere covered with freckles and her smile reached from ear to ear.

“I’mCarmen!” She said cheerfully. “Natalia.” I reached out my hand and she graspedit tightly. “Nice to meet you! This’ll be fun. Don’t you think? I’ve never donesomething like this before. I mean with a group and stuff. What about you?”

Hervoice made the day seem brighter as it tinkled through the air.

“I’vebeen doing this all my life. My dad, he did this too.” Her forehead furrowed.“Did? Are your parents divorced or something?” “No,” I said shaking my head,“He died.” “Oh.” Her cheerfulness was gone in a moment.

“I’mreally sorry.” Her voice was apologetic. “No need. It’s not your fault.” Ihated it when people sympathized. They didn’t understand.

Carmenstared at me shortly and started talking again. I wasn’t listening but I had afeeling we’d be friends. Good friends.