Archive: 12 posts

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Well I've been writing this anyway so I figured you guys might wanna read it. So far I've written 9 chapters (as of 09/05/10) reaching c. 25,000 words, I reckon the complete story will reach 14/15/16 chapters. Here's a little blurb to spike your interest: Michael Riley is an average teenager, just another face in the crowd. His only remarkable quality is his six foot four genius friend, Finn Stiles. That is, until Michael gets thrown in front of a car by a sworn enemy, and hovers between life and death. In his last moments of consciousness, Michael begins seeing lights everywhere. This is just the beginning. Michael's life plunges into a confused mess of dying bullies, accused murder, exploding lorries, black-hearted angels, creepy chemistry teachers and naked men in hallways. Blessed, or perhaps cursed, with a strange power that stems from cracks in reality itself, Michael is faced with the prospect of a changed world. Basically I wanted to write just a story that was interesting to read, no super-allegories or something. So, um, lemme know what you think (Imma start with just the prologue and 2 chapters, then say, 2 chapters every 3 weeks or so.) Prologue The baby wailed in its cot as the storm raged outside. The elements crashed together on the other side of the thin pane of glass, and the small boy cried for his mother. He had no conscious knowledge of the storm outside, but he felt the evil presence, felt the danger that it implied, felt the pervasive aura of malice. His mother didn?t come. His mother was dead. His mother had died in child birth, though he did not know it, and his father was a beer-swilling good-for-nothing who did the bare minimum for his only child. Unawares, the baby wailed on as the room was lit up once again by a flash of fork lightning. It was as the subsequent house-shaking boom of thunder rolled over the house that it happened. The baby watched in horror as a child?s nightmare unfurled before him. In the corner of the room, his meagre pile of soft toys was being swallowed whole. What swallowed it was not a monster, but a swirling and broiling mass of pure darkness. Like a black hole, the substance was impenetrable, nothing but darkness and evil. First went the tattered stuffed bear that the boy owned ? the black aura cut away at one leg at first, disintegrating anything it touched, eroding the toy from the leg first, before crumbling away at the chest and arms, before finally the head was gone. This happened with successive toys. Each was taken by the mass; each was destroyed into nothingness, assimilated into the black thing. The thing, whatever it was, the evil, expanded slowly, crossing the room with agonising slowness. It approached the cot, and as it did, the baby wailed even louder, screaming for its very life. He was feeling cold now, ice cold, as if the black substance was taking away the very heat from the air. It rose above the cot, a solid mass of nothingness, an abyss given physical form. It seemed to rear above the bed, paused momentarily. Then, the lightning struck again, and, in the midst of the flash of white light, it formed a spear-like point and shot straight at the baby?s head. Downstairs, the boy?s father screamed in terrible agony. Chapter 1 Average was a word that fit Michael Riley well. He was of average build for his age, 15 years old and a few inches below six feet, and he slotted right on the line of average in his class. He had short, brown hair and wore glasses, perhaps the only thing that really made him different from the average student. He also couldn?t be described as a ?social? student. If someone at King James I?s Secondary School were to be asked who Michael Riley was, half of them wouldn?t know and the other half would probably just associate him with Finn Stiles. Finn was Michael?s only real friend, and vice versa. From the outside, they were polar opposites. At 6 foot 4 inches, Finn towered over Michael, and was also well renowned for being the smartest person in the whole school. Finn had long, black hair that was left unkempt and untamed in curls that covered his face. Today was as irregular as it got for Michael and Finn. Instead of normal lessons, the Year 11s had been told that they were to attend school in order to supervise the prospective Year 7s as they came to take the entrance exams. Around half of the students had bothered to turn up ? the rest were in town or at home, leaving their friends to fend for themselves. It was 8:30 in the morning, and the remaining few were seated in a stuffy classroom listening to the briefing. ?You will all be grouped in threes, and assigned a group of 10 new Year 7s,? droned Mr Harms, the History teacher *** deputy head who seemed just as bored with the whole proceedings as the students in the room. ?You are to supervise your group in your respective rooms until 9:30, when you must take your group to the assembly hall to take the English exam. Furthermore...? No one listened as Mr. Harms continued rambling on. It was only now that they realised why they had all been taken in late to their entrance exams. Michael was doodling on the instructions sheet, putting the finishing touches on a giant pencil swallowing an apple whole. Finn, on the other hand, had filled the entire back of his sheet with complex formulae and diagrams. Michael glanced over. ?What?s all that then?? he asked Finn. Finn looked back and raised an eyebrow. He sighed, and began trying to explain. After the first few five-syllable words, he knew he?d lost Michael, so instead he told him to forget it and began to doodle as well. It was only then that they realised that the rest of the group was laughing. At them. They both looked up in tandem at the figure of Mr Harms, who stood over them, hands on hips, frowning. ?What?s all that then?? he asked Finn. Finn began to try to explain the complicated formulae again and was just beginning to realise from the utterly lost expression on Mr Harms face that he had no hope of ever explaining it when the door to the classroom opened. Mr Harms turned round as Holly Bordeaux walked through the door. He looked surprised, and with good reason ? Holly was the arm candy of one of the jocks of her year, and spent most of her time standing around in dark alleys with the rest of them. On today of all days, Mr Harms had hardly expected her to come in when by all reasonable assumptions she should be with her boyfriend preparing for a day of slobbery and a night of drunkenness. ?Ah, Miss Bordeaux, thank you for finally joining us,? he said, and pointed at the seat next to Michael. Michael gulped. Holly smiled at him. He gulped again. Holly strode over to their desk as Mr Harms resumed his speech about exam procedures and timings, and sat down right next to Michael. Michael instinctively turned slightly towards Finn ? the social order at King James? dictated that for them to actually speak to each other would mean certain punishment for Michael. Michael certainly did not want to get on the bad side of the jock kids. Finn, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans for him. Through his matt of black hair, it appeared as though he had raised one eyebrow, and straight after that he gave Michael a little nudge to turn him in Holly?s direction. Holly noticed the movement, and turned and smiled. Michael gulped again, except this time it seemed to go slightly wrong and he devolved into a coughing fit, spluttering all over the table. Finn grimaced ? he had hoped for at least one coherent word to come out of Michael?s mouth, but it seemed that in this respect Michael was definitely below average, although he deserved top marks for being the most awkward teenager in the world. Such a coughing fit could not, of course, go unnoticed by Mr Harms. Raising an eyebrow in a mockery of Finn, he made the suggestion that perhaps the three of them would like to be in charge of the first arrivals together? Finn quickly responded that they would do it, and Michael simultaneously gulped again and delivered a sharp kick to Finn?s leg under the desk. The three of them sat there for a full thirty seconds before they realised what had really been asked to do, and they each received an angry glare from Mr Harms as they shuffled out the room. Once in the corridor, Michael turned to Finn (making sure not to at any point look directly at Holly) and asked him if he actually knew what they were meant to be doing. Finn in his typical all-knowing style rattled off word for word their instructions ? they were to go to the lobby, greet the first 10 children and their respective parents, log their entry, and take them to the modern languages corridor. The three of them hurried down the corridor towards the foyer where they would have to meet the prospective students. Walking with a slight grin on his face, Finn deliberately placed himself so that Michael would have to walk next to Holly. Michael, however, stared straight ahead, and Holly did the same. When they arrived in the foyer, there were already four small children in there. There was a small girl with big round eyes and long brown hair standing in front of her mother and sucking her thumb, who opened her eyes as wide as she could when she saw the approaching fifth-formers and huddled in closer to her mother. The next two were a pair of boys, both of whom stood in front of a tall woman with auburn hair. The boys were clearly twins ? their faces were mirror images of one another, button-nosed and wide-eyed, with identical shocks of spiky black hair. Their reaction upon seeing the three fifth-formers was to huddle closer to each other in perfect unison. The last child in the room was the most out of place. He was just about the tallest of the four, but what truly set him apart was his completely white skin, a shock of spiky silver hair that went in all directions at once, and bright pink eyes. The albino kid had no parent behind him, and instead stood apart from the other children, alone. The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment before Michael leaned over slowly to Finn and murmured out of the corner of his mouth, ?Why are they so small? Were we really that small?? This seemed to jog Finn into the moment, and he stepped forward to greet the parents while telling Michael to go get a registration form. Finn began to explain to the parents that they were welcome to stay with their children until the first ten children had arrived, but then they?d have to go separately to one of the classrooms. It was as he began explaining the procedures that another group walked in through the door. Holly went over to greet them as well ? this time there were three more children, two girls and a boy, each with their own parents. They seemed to know each other though, and Holly assumed that they had used to go to the same Primary school. She smiled at the parents, and bent down to say hello to the kids as well. Michael began filling in names on the forms as the last of the groups filtered in and more fifth-form guides came to help out. When the first ten had been filled in, Finn, Michael and Holly led them up the stairs opposite the foyer and along to the modern languages department, where they sat them all down in an empty classroom. With them was the albino boy, who sat in the far corner and did nothing but stare out the window. The three guides sat at the front in awkward silence while the children looked on in varying degrees of anxiety and nervousness until Holly suggested they played Hangman on the white board. The rest of the day at school passed without major incident. One child broke down crying in the middle of the English paper, but except for that there wasn?t a hitch and when Finn, Michael and Holly were finally let go at the end of the day they were feeling fairly satisfied with themselves. Michael even brought up the nerve to ask Holly how she thought it had gone. ?Oh, it went pretty well. That albino boy was sweet, don't you think?? she replied. Michael nodded and gave a generic hum as a reply. ?So how do you get home?? Michael was amazed. She had asked a question back ? that made this officially a conversation. ?Oh, um, well, I have to pick up my little sister from Cobble?s End Primary and then I walk back to my house,? he managed to blurt out. Finn smiled to himself with a look almost akin to pride as he walked along side them. Holly seemed to brighten up as Michael said this. ?That?s great, I only live a few roads away from there, and I walk past it on the way home too! We can go together!? Michael?s jaw practically dropped open at this. Holly Bordeaux had actually asked him to walk her home! Well, that?s what he?d tell anyone who asked at any rate. He nodded eagerly, and then realised what he was agreeing to. Cobble?s End was fifteen minutes walk away, which would be fifteen minutes of extended awkward silences. He looked to Finn, who normally walked with him, for help, but Finn, for what he believed to be Michael?s own good, said that he was waiting at school for a bit and that they should go on alone. Michael?s eyes looked on in horror as Finn walked away. Holly smiled at him as they began walking, and at first there was nothing but silence as they walked side-by-side. Then, Holly managed to break the ice by asking Michael about his sister. They discussed their respective primary schools and had built up what Michael saw as a surprisingly normal conversation by the time they arrived at Cobble?s End. Michael?s sister was waiting for him outside of the school?s entrance. She was 8 years old and had long, straight, brown hair, and as soon as she saw Michael she ran over and hugged him round the waist. Michael was extremely embarrassed, but felt a little better when he saw Holly smile. Chloe, Michael?s sister, looked between the two bewildered. ?Chloe,? Michael said, ?this is Holly, a friend from school.? ?Hi,? Chloe said, ?you?re nice.? Holly smiled at Chloe?s words. ?Aw, thanks, you are too,? she grinned. They moved off again and began walking. They reached the end of the road and turned off, and as soon as they rounded the corner Holly?s smile disappeared. Michael?s face looked scared. Half-way down the road, Holly?s boyfriend and his cronies were leaning on a garden wall, sharing a cigarette. Chris Mitchell, the one who was going out with Holly, spotted them at the end of the road where the three of them had stood frozen. His broad face turned into a frown when he saw who it was, and he motioned for the three people he was with to come with him ? Steve Nielson, Drew Preece and Derek Straume. Collectively they probably had the IQ of Michael?s sister; however they also probably had the power to lift a small lorry, each of them being built like pro wrestlers. Michael was surprised when Holly didn?t move towards them, and it was to her that Chris at first directed his attention. After a quick glance, however, he squared up to Michael while his mates flexed their muscles. ?What are you looking at, kid?? Chris said, and pushed Michael in the shoulder. Things weren?t looking good, Michael thought. Chris pushed closer, and Holly pulled Chloe away from them and held her close. ?N- n- nothing, Chris, I was just walking home,? Michael stuttered, backing away from Chris. ?Oh yeah,? the huge boy snarled, ?then why are you doing it with my girlfriend?? It was at this point that Holly spoke up. ?Hey, wait, Chris, it was nothing, it turns out we don't live that far away from each other and we left at the same time.? Chris frowned and snapped at her to be quiet. He turned back to Michael and towered over him. ?Look, kid, I don't want you messing with my girl. So you back off, or I?ll be forced to make you,? Chris continued. Michael gulped, and decided to try and make an excuse for himself. ?Look, Chris, it was nothing, I?m sorry, it won?t happen again.? This, in retrospect, was a big mistake. Chris seemed to interpret this as condescending, and perhaps thought that it?d be weak to not do anything violent in front of his friends. Out of nowhere, he swung a violent punch towards Michael?s head, and it barely scraped his nose as Michael jumped backwards. He jumped off the pavement and stumbled backwards a few steps before straightening himself and looking up at Chris. It was in that moment that it happened. Holly and Chloe?s eyes widened first, their mouths opening in a collective intake of breath, ready to scream. Steve, Drew and Derek?s jaws dropped open as they saw what the girls had seen. Only Chris didn?t see it at first, instead being too focussed on Michael, and he was just beginning to walk off the pavement onto the road when Michael saw, in slow motion, that Derek or Drew or Steve had reached out a hand to grab his shirt and pull him back. It was then that Michael had the sense to look where his sister and Holly were looking with such looks of fear. He did so, and it was as he was turning that he heard the screech of rubber a few metres away. He turned just in time to see the rearing headlights of a huge black Range Rover come bearing over him at around 35 miles an hour. He had no time to move. No time to escape. Only time to take a glance at his sister and Holly, and only time to hope that he?d stay alive. Then the Range Rover hit him and he was down, tumbling under the car, his thoughts a blur of pain and whirling metal. He blacked out. He came to again ? he felt nothing but pain, tasted nothing but blood, sharp and metallic. The tarmac was blurry in front of his eyes. He blacked out again. He awoke after an eternity of pain. Not much time seemed to have passed. Sky now soared above him. At the edge of his vision, he thought he saw his sister being held by Holly who was on the phone. He tried to look at them, to move his mouth, but he was frozen, paralysed. Just before he blacked out for the last time from the pain of broken bones and torn skin, a cloud rolled over the sun. Michael thought he heard whispers, and as he succumbed to the blackness he saw the sky above him tear open in a beam of golden light and swallow him whole. Then, his thoughts were gone and all was blackness. Chapter Two Michael spent an eternity in blackness. His thoughts were slow, random non-connected flashes of memories. His first steps. Holly holding his sister. His first day of school. Chloe, screaming. The day he met Finn. The SUV, looming closer. The crash itself, a series of images, pavement followed by metal followed by slowly reddening tarmac. He thought he heard voices at times. Urgent shouts pervaded his thoughts for periods of time, followed by murmurings and whispers. He heard his mother, crying, and wanted to reach for her. He heard his sister sobbing uncontrollably, and felt even more helpless. Would he be stuck in blackness forever? Nothing but a hazy consciousness, thoughts unconnected and uncontrollable? It was seemingly several eternities before he could hear any words at all. He could only catch the occasional word, and his brain took so long to process each one that whoever had said it would probably have gone home and to bed before he worked out what the word was and remembered what it meant. He heard ?remarkable?, ?Range? and ?surgery? which he supposed meant that he was alive. Though he could barely call it alive and not just in the afterlife. At least he was beginning to be able to think relatively coherent now. Next came the pain. His body?s reaction to the damage had been to black out the pain, but as he slowly regained his thoughts the pain shot through him again. His whole body was shot with pain and he tried to scream, but he didn?t have the energy to make a single sound. Inside his head, he was screaming. The pain was excruciating, cutting through every single square inch of skin deep into his bones. He had to signal for someone, let someone know that he was in agony. Open your eyes, he commanded himself. He tried again and again, but his eyelids were too heavy, his muscles and body too weak. After what seemed like hours, he finally managed to open them the smallest of cracks. The pain and effort made him black out completely. No thoughts, no pain, nothing but blackness. His consciousness recovered after another eternity, and he tried again. This time he managed to open his eyes slowly enough not to let the light blind him. At first, it was like being hit by the Range Rover all over again, but through the smallest slit in his eyelids he was able to adjust to the light of the hospital room. All of a sudden, he was given a sense of time. The eternity of blackness formed into seconds. At first he saw nothing but whiteness, which made a change. Then, the nothing formed cracks, regular lines crossing each other in a regular pattern. Tiles, he thought. Ceiling tiles. Gradually over the period of around an hour the cracks began to come into focus. He could not yet even bring enough energy to move his eye muscles, but at least he could see. The blurred lines of the cracks became thinner and thinner until they were completely in focus. The exertion made him pass out again in moments. This time the blackness was soothing, replenishing, and when he awoke again it took far less effort to let his eyes slide open. He spent a few minutes focussing on the ceiling tiles again before trying to move his eyes. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, his eyes moved downwards. He saw an IV stand, full of some sort of no-doubt life-saving substance, and a heart rate monitor. He could see a window as well, just to his right, and his eyes rested on it for over an hour. It was night outside. A full moon was rolling across the star-spattered sky as the clouds passed by. The window was only a small one, and he watched the moon pass by it for long enough to watch it disappear over the top. He fell asleep again, and when he woke for the third time he could focus on the now day-time window with ease. He watched the clouds roll across the sky. Then an angel blocked his vision. A being of pure white had appeared in front of him, an apparition of magical origin. Around his head, there was a shimmering in the air, a black, horrible shimmering, a strange fluid that emanated from his head and flowed into the air around him like a heat wave. The angel was small but even incapacitated as he was Michael felt its power. He knew the angel was powerful, and could feel its power burning its surroundings. The angel of pure white stared at Michael. The black aura around its head flared outwards as if an animal about to pounce and the angel moved forward. Then he stopped, straightened up, and fled from the room. He was replaced a minute later by a friendly face. Chloe, Michael?s sister, had walked into the room and gone to stand looking out the window. She didn?t notice that Michael was awake, but as Michael watched he noticed that she had a similar effect as the angel had had. Chloe too was glowing. A bright pink aura, some sort of ethereal substance, was flowing out of her from all directions. It looked warm and inviting, unlike the cold malice of the angel?s black aura. Chloe turned round and looked at Michael. She gasped at his open eyes, and the aura flowed out of her even more strongly. She leapt over to Michael?s bedside and bent down to his eye level. ?M- Michael? Are you awake?? she asked, her face a taut expression of pain and hope. Michael tried to respond, to open his mouth and say he was okay and not to worry, but he couldn?t do it, he couldn?t manage a think. He did the only thing he could ? he shut his eyes for a second, and then opened them. Chloe gasped again, and put a hand to her mouth. ?I?ll be right back!? she shouted, and left the room. Inside, Michael smiled. His sister was okay, at least. He lay staring out the window for another few minutes before the door opened again. Chloe was back, walking hand-in-hand...with Holly. Chloe?s pink aura was still flowing out strongly, but Holly had a strong blue one that swirled in a maelstrom of deep colour. Both of them walked over to the bed and Holly bent down too to look into Michael?s eyes. The blue aura swirling round her head seemed to calm itself as she looked at him. ?Michael? Can you hear me?? Michael blinked. Holly smiled and sobbed at the same time. ?I?m so glad you?re okay Michael. Your parents are at work, but Chloe really wanted to see you so I walked her here.? ?Work?? Michael thought to himself, ?Then why aren?t they at school?? Holly continued to speak. ?Michael, I?m so sorry about what happened. Chris didn?t mean to make you get hurt like that. What happened was...horrible. Everyone at school?s been worried for you.? Michael was just happy to hear a voice and be able to understand the words. It was then that the door opened and a nurse came in. Holly went over to her and they had a murmured exchange while Chloe held Michael?s hand before the nurse said loudly that they need to leave the room while the doctor?s checked on Michael. Holly said that she?d call Finn, and left the room holding Chloe?s hand. The nurse came over to the bed and leaned over as the others had done to look into Michael?s eyes. She had short dark brown hair that fell slightly across her face and an aura the colour of evergreen leaves. Her words became fuzzier as Michael listened, and his last coherent thought before he fell back to sleep was whether things would ever be normal again. The doctors told him that he had been out in a coma for over a month, and that it was now the Easter holidays. Therapy began as soon as he was lucid again. It began with eye movement, and Michael discovered that he no longer needed his glasses to see properly. On the contrary, he had absolutely perfect vision now, and the doctors told him that he was doing better than anyone could?ve hoped. After around a day Michael could use his eyes fully without any effort, and the doctors began work on his neck. Next came toes and fingers, which he managed to move after another day, but he couldn?t get past flexing them. Then they got him to try to lift his head off his pillow. He couldn?t do it ? he would sit there with apologetic eyes straining with all his might, great beads of sweat forming on his forehead, before the doctor would call it off for an hour while he rested. Try as he might, he spent close to a week spending every moment he could trying to lift his head. To all effects and purposes, he was paralysed in all but his toes and hands. The doctors said that if he could move his toes and fingers then it meant that he should eventually be able to move his whole body, but they weren?t seeing much progress. His sleep schedule was totally random. He would sleep when he was tired, which was usually every two or three hours. Then he?d wake, and spend as much time as he could telling his neck to move. It was because of this that he found himself in the middle of the night staring at the ceiling sweating profusely. He was pushing as hard as he could when all of a sudden he could feel the air above his face beginning to vibrate. With a clean humming sound, the air above him began to split. It was as if some great beast was clawing the air apart ? at first it was no more than a slit, but it opened wider and opened up in a wide patch of glowing light. The glow was identical to that of the aura he had seen around everyone?s head for the past few days. However, instead of one constant colour, it seemed to be ever-changing, a constant flow of different colours. Michael stopped straining and felt a strange calm. The strange aura seemed to flow out of the crack now. It filled the area above the whole bed and encompassed Michael, latching on to his arms, his legs and his straining neck. Michael felt a sudden vitality jump into his muscles, and with a still herculean effort he managed to bend his neck and look down at his toes. He tried flexing his toes, and managed them with ease, and then his whole foot, which he bent and twisted, his unused ankles making loud cracking noises as he did so. With a big intake of breath, he began to bend his knees. Slowly but surely, his knees rose up, dragging his feet along the hospital mattress. Soon, his legs were fully bent. He steadied himself momentarily. This was some crazy stuff going on. The strange aura was helping him somehow, strengthening his muscles and allowing him to do things he would?ve spent weeks training his body to do otherwise. He took a deep breath. Should he gamble it and try sitting up? He took a chance, and a deep breath, and with one big twist swirled his waist round while pulling his back up so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He swayed worryingly, incredibly exhausted from the effort, but the aura from the crack flowed into him even stronger to compensate. He sat there for a few minutes before he decided to try to stand. He flexed all his muscles for a good minute before he began to attempt it. Holding onto his IV stand, he slowly began levering himself up until he was bent over the IV. The aura was now like a solid mat encompassing his entire body, balancing him so he wouldn?t fall and holding his back in place. He smiled to himself broadly as he shivered on the IV stand. Then, he actually opened his mouth and tried to laugh. Having not made a single sound in such a long time, his throat was absolutely swollen shut with dryness, and instead of laughing he almost choked on his tongue. He spluttered and coughed all across the window, and the aura flickered as he lost his concentration, sucking back into the crack in the air before disappearing altogether, leaving Michael with no support and sending him sprawling over the floor, unconscious. The night nurse found him an hour later and managed to lift him onto the bed. She was surprised to see him smiling in his catatonic state, even though he had collapsed onto the floor, nearly killing himself in the process. She propped him up on his pillows and went to go send a message to the doctor. The doctor arrived just as it was getting light outside. As Michael was still out cold, he decided to find out what happened. He asked security for the video tapes of the previous night ? cameras had been installed in all of the rooms in the hospital a year earlier thanks to a government grant - and watched in absolute amazement as he saw Michael move his neck, then his feet, knees, and eventually his whole body, managing even a tender step before seemingly collapsing unexpectedly. There was no trace of the strange aura on the video, however. He was amazed. Under no reasoning was it possible that a boy who had been run over by an SUV and had been lying in a hospital bed gaining nothing but bedsores could learn how to stand and walk within a single night. Yet here it was on the screen, irrefutably. He even showed it to two other doctors to ask their opinion ? neither had any explanation, only that it was a miraculous recovery and that he must?ve been doing good teaching in therapy. It was from that point on that progress really began to take off. The aura didn?t appear again, but in the short time it had been there it had built up some muscle strength in Michaels limbs, meaning that after a week he could move himself into a sitting position and back again about three times a day. He stood up for the first time just a day after that, and the doctors were amazed when, just two weeks after waking for the first time from a month-long coma, he took his first faltering steps down the hospital corridors. It wasn?t the therapy that troubled Michael, though. What really troubled him was the strange aura that everyone seemed to now have. No one else seemed to notice it, but every single person who he met had a strange glow swirling about their head and body, all of different colours and shades. Not one person that Michael could find had an aura like the angelic figure had had, everyone else?s seemed to flow into the world and mix with it, whereas the angel?s had clashed with it and burned away at it. He took his first breath of real fresh air a week after his first steps. He still needed to lean on something or someone, and it was his mother that he rested his elbow on when, slowly, he shuffled out of the double sliding doors at the front of the hospital. The world was aglow to Michael. Every single piece of grass, every tree, every person, every minute insect crawling along the paving stones, all of them had an aura too, and the whole world seemed brighter with the collective glow of the strange substance. Michael gasped in wonder at the eternal flow. ?Michael, are you alright?? his mother asked, worried at the look of shock on his face. Michael stared at the world for a moment before replying. ?Yes, I?m fine. Can...can we go inside now? It's bright out here.? His mother smiled at him and slowly he shuffled back inside towards his room. Inside, Finn was waiting for him, eating a packet of crisps and reading a textbook with a picture of a star on the front and complicated formulae written around it. ?Hey Michael,? Finn smiled, ?howäre you doing?? Michael smiled at his friend. Finn?s aura was a pale blue and was always darting around at rapid speeds. ?I?m doing okay,? Michael replied, ?a lot better than I was, at any rate.? Michael?s mother said she was going to go get a coffee, and that she?d be back in a minute, leaving Finn and Michael alone. Michael decided it was time to try and find out what this aura was. ?Finn...? he began. Finn looked at him inquisitively. ?Finn, what does it mean if...if you see strange colours, like, in the air? Is that bad?? Finn frowned from behind his thick black hair. ?It might be synaesthesia?? Michael stared blankly. He couldn?t even come close to thinking about how to spell that. Finn smiled. ?It's nothing to worry about, Mikey. It's to do with a person?s brain, when two areas form a link, say, sound and sight, then one sense will affect the other, so you might see a certain colour for a certain sound. It's not even all that rare. In fact, if you do have it, it's probably something to be proud of.? Michael wasn?t convinced. This wasn?t sounds that he was seeing; it was as if people?s very souls were pouring out from their bodies. But he thought that wouldn?t be the best thing to say to Finn, so instead of asking further he nodded and made a non-committal humming sound. Michael?s mother returned, smiling. ?The doctors have said that if you continue progressing like this, you should be able to return home within a couple of days, isn?t that great? You might even be able to go into school within a few days of the new term!? Michael smiled at his mother?s happiness, and at the deep pink hue that was added to her magenta aura. He was beginning to realise that the auras were a reflection of the thoughts of the person at that time ? Finn?s was always darting around because he was such a constant thinker, Chloe?s was calmer because she was a friendly person. He often wondered what his own aura looked like ? his was the only one that he couldn?t see. And always when he thought about the auras, his mind came back to the angel next to his bed, staring at him with malicious intent. Michael was at home for a week before he felt strong enough to go into school. The whole of that week he spent trying to get stronger, and by the end of it he was able to walk for over an hour at a normal pace. He tried to get through some of the work he had missed while in the coma, but he wouldn?t have understood it even with the teacher?s supervision so he quickly gave up on that. His entire body was frail and weak. The doctors told him that it was amazing how well he?d done, and that anyone in his situation would normally be dead. In all, he?d broken eighteen bones, from the small ones in his fingers up to his left shin and right arm. He?d recovered incredibly fast, the doctors said, and that, while they may still hurt, the limbs were perfectly usable and would be back to their normal use within another few weeks. Luckily, the doctors said, he?d avoided any major head injury or brain damage. Michael thought otherwise, but he was too scared to voice his thoughts. He returned to school four days into the new term. He remembered the time Derek Straume, one of the people who had been there when the accident had happened, had broken his ankle in a rugby game while playing for the school?s first team. He had been gone two days before returning with a cast on and crutches, and the whole of his year had greeted him with a large ?Welcome Back!? banner and a whole cake. Michael had no such hero?s welcome. Instead, the only recognition anyone gave him for his horrific injuries were whispers in the back of class as he walked in the room. He smiled at Holly as he came in, and then saw that she was still sitting with Chris Mitchell and his face darkened. Holly did not return his smile, and only stole a quick glance at him when he sat down. After the first visit with Chloe she had returned only once and had seemed very subdued, but Michael had pinned it on boredom in the holidays or stress with coursework. However, here she was, her deep blue aura mixing with and being consumed by that of the violent scarlet of Chris?. Michael spent the whole of morning lessons staring at Chris and Holly. He was amazed that she had the cheek to stay with him, even after he had effectively attempted to murder Michael. The police had put it down to an accident and Chris had got off without ramifications, and still somehow managed to keep Holly even when she had left him behind to tend to Michael and call the hospital. At break time, he voiced his thoughts to Finn. ?Why?d she take him back, Finn? That guy almost killed me right in front of her, and yet they?re straight back together as soon as I can walk.? Finn looked up from another sheet of meaningless calculations. ?Huh? Oh, them. I?m not sure really, it seems a bit dumb of her.? He bent his head down to continue working, shielding his face once again with his long black curls. Yeah, Michael thought, a bit dumb. That **** Chris left me for dead as I lay bleeding and broken on the road because of him trying to impress Holly, and from the looks of it, it seemed to have worked. Michael sat there fuming, and decided to go outside for some fresh air. He was still amazed every time he entered the outside world, and walked down towards the rugby pitches to sit on the bench that ran alongside. The rugby teams were practicing, and Michael noticed how their auras had a generally more reddish hue. He was fascinated by the way the auras interacted, and deduced that a good team working together had their auras connecting and sharing. It truly was a sight to behold, and he was watching with interest when the coach sounded the whistle and the boys who were training began to disperse. It took Michael a minute to push himself back up again, and it was as he was wheezing his way around the bench that he saw Holly came into view. Of course, he thought, Chris would be in amongst the rugby players and he would be meeting Holly afterwards. He stopped with one hand resting on the bench for support and watched as Holly strode down the grass towards Chris. The greeted each other with a kiss, and Chris, who had obviously seen Michael standing there, raised his middle finger straight at him. Michael saw red, and suddenly his anger boiled over. He felt the same stress and frustration he?d felt in the hospital, the inability to change things to work in his favour. It happened the same way as at that time - once again, before he could stop anything from happening, another crack in reality appeared in the air to his side. Energy filled his legs, and thoughtlessly he charged at Chris. Chris turned in time to see Michael running at him at full pelt, which was surprisingly fast for someone who was previously barely able to climb a flight of stairs. Chris saw Michael coming with enough time to do a quick sidestep, and as Michael flew past him, tumbling out of control, Chris delivered a quick shove to the small of his back, sending him sprawling in the muddy grass. Michael groaned, and the aura that had been giving him strength disappeared. At once, he felt both exhausted and in pain, and he realised what an idiot he had been. Chris squatted down beside him. Michael couldn?t see Holly, and didn?t have the energy to move. ?Look, Mike, don't force me to beat up a cripple. I would?ve thought that car would?ve knocked some sense into you,? Chris spat out venomously. Michael groaned again, and tried to roll over onto his side. Chris stood up and stuck his foot on Michael?s chest, pinning him down. Michael could feel the studs of Chris? boot pushing into him, and saw Holly looking worried behind him. Why didn?t she do anything? ?Don?t mess with me, kid,? Chris said, ?and I won?t mess with you. If you come near me again, I will make sure to find a bigger and faster car to throw you in front of.? With that, he walked off. Michael lay there for a few seconds, before groaning and slowly lifting himself into a sitting position. His whole body felt like death and his back ached as if he were a hundred years old. Michael was several minutes late for his next lesson, it having taken him so much effort to finally stand up again, back almost breaking under the strain, and then practically having to crawl his way inside without anyone for support. He ended up in Chemistry, where a teacher he had never met before said he was in such a state that he should go to the nurse straight away. Michael turned to the door, and collapsed against it instead of trying to open it. The new teacher came over and took a hold of him. ?Class, I?m going to take this boy to the nurse, stay here and read through the rest of the chapter in the textbook until I return.? Then, with Michael?s arm slung over one shoulder so that he was practically carrying his whole weight, the new teacher strode out the door and headed off down the corridor. Michael was scruffy, with mud on his shirt and eyes so sunken into his eyes from exhaustion that the new teacher thought he looked like death itself. As they shuffled along, Michael finally managed to get enough energy and breathe to ask the teacher who he was. ?Oh, we haven?t met? I?m the new chemistry teacher, Mr Kane; I?m replacing Mrs Gere because she?s gone on maternity leave. Feel free to call me Richard if you want.? Michael was surprised; none of the teachers ever asked anyone to call them on first-name terms ? even the teachers who were mad enough to send their child to the school they were teaching at were called ?Sir? by their own children. Mr Kane was tall, about an inch taller than Finn, and had thick grey hair that was slicked back from his forehead. Michael noticed with interest that he didn?t seem to have an aura; instead, all the other auras around him seemed to seep into his body, flowing gently towards him as if he were magnetised. ?I?m Michael Riley,? Michael managed to say. Mr Kane looked thoughtful, and then said, ?Oh yes, you?re the one who was hit by the car recently? I've been told all about that; dreadful stuff really, dreadful stuff.? They continued shuffling along the corridor without speaking until they finally made it to the nurse?s office. The nurse took one look at Michael, looked him up in the file, and immediately told him to go home and rest for a good few days before he tried coming into school again. Michael looked dejected, so the nurse said, ?Look, Michael, according to that file the doctors said that you weren?t even expected to recover well enough to return to school for another week or so. Take it easy, and take it slowly. You?ll be fine.? Even so, Michael didn?t want to have to wait. He had never exactly been the sporting type, but being unable to even spend a day upright was infuriating. He told the nurse that his parents were at work and he normally walked home, and Mr Kane, who had stayed with them, said that he could easily drive Michael back to his house and then be back in within five or ten minutes. Michael was shocked at this, and tried to protest, but even that meant he had to lean against the jamb of the door for support. Mr Kane said he?d go back to his class and set them some work for while he was gone, and Michael sat down on the chair outside the nurse?s office. It was very strange that Mr Kane was helping him out like this. It also really confused Michael that Mr Kane?s aura was so different. Apart from the colour and the flow of people?s auras, so far the only abnormal aura he had seen was that of the angelic apparition in the hospital. But Mr Kane was just a chemistry teacher ? why would he be so different? Mr Kane returned a moment later and once again supported Michael on his shoulder as they went out to his car. It was a small hatchback, and Michael was placed gingerly on the front seat while Mr Kane wandered round to the driver?s side. The car started with a moments protest, and Michael fed directions to Mr Kane. It was only a five minute drive, and Michael was soon outside his house, where Mr Kane once again supported him along the path to the door and fished the keys from Michael?s bag. He left Michael lying on the couch in the lounge with the TV remote and the phone in case of emergencies, and then turned out the door and left him. Michael lay for a while, pondering the enigmatic Mr Kane. He certainly seemed on the outside to be nothing more than an exceedingly friendly new teacher, but, to Michael, who could see his aura, or lack of it, there was something strange about him. Michael was thinking about him for only a few more moments before he was out like a light. Outside, having put Michael back inside his house, Mr Kane began the drive back to school. His thoughts remained with Michael. That kid was strange, he thought, definitely one that he would have to keep his eye on. Of course, that particular child was not the reason that he had come to King James I?s school. All the same, there was definitely something about him. After he rounded the interrupted chemistry lesson off, Richard decided to find out about this Michael kid. He asked the people in the teachers? lounge what they thought of him. ?He came stumbling into my lesson today looking like death. Is he normally like that?? he asked Michael?s form teacher. ?Who?? came the response. Richard sighed. ?Michael? Michael Riley? Average height, got hit by a car?? Richard was amazed when the teacher said that the fact that Michael had been hit by a car ?rang a faint bell.? If any of his students were hit by a car he?d probably learn their name. Unfortunately, it was the same situation with most of the other teachers in the faculty lounge. None of them really seemed to know Michael at all, and the few that did could only barely describe his appearance and that he mainly hung out with ?that genius kid, Finn, I think.? Seeing as that was the only bit of information that he had about Michael, Richard decided to go speak to him. After school, Richard waited by the main entrance until he saw Finn approaching. ?Finn!? he called, and Finn looked over at him from beneath his thick hair. Finn looked surprised, but was far from the one who would disobey a teacher and walked over to him. ?Hey, Finn. I was just going to say that Michael seemed alright when I dropped him off earlier. I know you two are good friends, so I thought I?d let you know.? ?Thanks,? was Finn?s only word of response. Richard decided to press on. ?How is Michael? I heard about what happened to him with the Range Rover. Is he coping alright?? Finn raised an eyebrow in surprise at this odd question, and said hesitantly, ?Yeah, he?s alright I suppose. I think he just wants to get back to normal life.? Richard nodded. ?Has he been acting...strangely lately? He seemed like he wanted to say something to me.? Finn seemed surprised, and after a moment?s hesitation he told Mr Kane about the question about seeing colours in the air. Richard?s previous questions had now been answered. He thanked Finn and told him he could go home now. Then he turned back and headed to his car. So it was as he had thought ? Michael Riley could see the aether too; which was strange, considering what Richard was at the school to do, and even stranger considering Michael had the most bizarre aura that Richard had seen in all his years on earth.   Chapter 4 Michael slept through the rest of the day, and his mother left him sleeping on the couch until morning. She had been called by the school and they had told her what had happened to him, though they didn?t know how he had ended up in the state he had been in. She had left him a note on the kitchen counter when she left for work, and he found it as soon as he awoke and managed to haul himself up out of the sofa and into the kitchen. It seemed that Michael had the whole day to himself. His mother said that there was food in the fridge, and that he should rest as much as possible as per the doctor?s orders. What Michael really wanted to do was speak to Mr Kane, but as that wasn?t possible he decided to try and work out what the strange auras he was seeing actually were. He turned on his computer and tried searching for that synas-something that Finn had mentioned. After a few attempted spellings, he finally stumbled across the right one and began to read the articles. According to a few websites he found, synaesthesia affected 1 in every 500,000 people, which was surprisingly more common than he had thought. Most people, however, described feeling a certain taste or seeing certain colours when hearing individual sounds ? at first, there was nothing about seeing ?auras? while searching synaesthesia. He tried searching for ?seeing auras around people?, but every website seemed to have a completely different opinion and a completely different explanation for the phenomena. Most of them sounded like crazy kooks who just wished they had some sort of supernatural powers. Maybe he?d end up like that one day, Michael thought. He did find several websites that documented how synaesthesia and related syndromes were affected by stress. That certainly seemed to apply to him ? the two times that the auras had grown strongest or had become real physical things, when the cracks appeared and the aura flowed out, were when he was struggling to break from his paralysis and when Holly had returned to Chris. Both very stressful situations. So, it seemed that the auras grew stronger when he strained himself. He knew that the auras could be beneficial to him ? every time the aura appeared out of those cracks in space, he had felt stronger and more vitalised. The first time it had happened, it had even galvanised him enough to recover at an unprecedented rate. He even had a feeling that the strange light that had engulfed him after the crash had been in some way protecting his body from further damage. Due to all that, he decided it might be worthwhile learning to control the aura. The only trouble was that he had no idea how to set about doing that. He set out a chair in the middle of his room, and spent a few minutes straining as hard as he could, imagining a crack appearing and the aura flowing out. Nothing happened, and when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, read-faced and straining, he let out his breath in a burst of laughter and realised that that approach was hopeless. The synaesthesia websites mutually agreed that the effects were always involuntary and responded to unique goings on in the world ? that is, a particular sound would always give a particular colour, and it would always happen. Michael thought to himself that for him the external input seemed to be stress. Michael thought about what he could do to get stressed. He needed to feel tension or to get angry. His mind immediately turned back to Chris. To the day he had almost died, turning round into the Range Rover and being dragged underneath it. He remembered Chris? sneering face as he had leant over him earlier the previous day. That absolute idiot, always so self-important and disregarding of other people?s feelings. He hadn?t even cared that Michael had almost died, that he had almost become a murderer. It seemed to be working. Michael saw a thin line of blue light spread out in front of him, but as soon as he stopped thinking about Chris and started thinking about the aura it disappeared back inside of itself. Well, at least he knew he was getting somewhere. He tried again, this time remembering when Holly had sat next to Chris in class after Michael returned to school. He remembered her walking down to Chris after rugby training, and when she had held his sister away from Chris. The crack appeared again, this time a whole spectrum of colours. As he concentrated on Holly, more cracks shot out from the first forming an intricate pattern into the space around it. Then, the crack opened up and Michael?s room was lit up with the unearthly glow of the swirling auras. As soon as the crack seemed wide enough for it to happen, auras began to flow out. They flew into him, running along his skin and sending goose bumps running all along his arms and legs. The auras flowing out seemed to be widening the crack, like when a shopping back splits and the shopping falling out of it widens the hole - the auras were filling the room now, and Michael watched as all the small objects that were scattered on the floor and over the furniture began to float upwards. The clock on his wall lifted up off of its fixings and the hands began spinning in random directions. His computer monitor began sliding forwards on his desk before lifting upwards, and his bed sheets began swirling upwards too. Then he, as well, was floating, lifting upwards from the floor as if pulled by an invisible thought. Then, without warning, the auras all sucked back into the crack which disappeared without a trace. The clock crashed to the floor and its glass front shattered, his monitor landed back on the computer table with a bang but luckily it didn?t smash, and Michael himself dropped to the floor and landed painfully on his knee. All in all, his room ended up in even more of a mess than before and Michael?s already damaged knee was now sending his brain messages of incredible agony. That, and the auras were now gone. Michael sat taking great gasps of breath while clutching his knee for a minute or so before finally testing putting his weight on it. It seemed to hold, so he pushed himself up with one hand on the end of his bed and took stock. The only real damage that had been caused was the pieces of broken glass and the broken clock itself. Apart from the slowly dulling ache of pain in his right knee, Michael himself felt in even better shape than before. He managed to straighten up fully and clambered down the stairs to the kitchen, where he fished out the dustpan and brush from under the sink. He took these upstairs and began sweeping up the glass. It took a while, and when he was done he took the clock and the dustpan downstairs and put all the rubbish in the bin. Then he returned upstairs and checked on his computer ? everything seemed alright there. Right, Michael thought, let?s take stock again. He could now, he believed, make the auras appear at will. But after that, whatever happened was way out of his control. Every time the cracks opened, it always seemed to happen differently, as if the different swirling auras had different properties and acted differently. He had also discovered that the auras could have a physical effect too. Never had he seen them in such high concentration, and it seemed that when they filled the room, they could exert forces on inanimate objects and lift them upwards. Telepathy? Michael thought. This was all really beginning to scare him. He decided that the next day he was in school he would tell Finn. Finn would probably know exactly what to do, he always did. For now though, Michael decided to take things slowly. He?d already smashed his clock; he did not want to break any bones next time. What he?d do, he decided, would be to focus on controlling the cracks. At the moment, he was creating big gaping holes and letting huge amounts of power through ? that didn?t seem to be working - the clock in the bin was a testament to that. He took a deep breath and focussed his feelings. Michael had absolutely no success whatsoever for the rest of the day. Twice more he created the huge cracks of aura, but always had to stop himself because they were always getting out of hand too fast. He went to bed tired and frustrated, and woke up without feeling any better. Nevertheless, he kept trying without much success, and went into school the next week thoroughly defeated and feeling low - he tried to keep his head low from Chris. The whole of the first three lessons he spent sitting next to Finn, silent and brooding. His previous resolve to talk to Finn had wilted, as his resolve often did. He still felt like telling him everything, but no doubt Finn would think him crazy and recommend him to go speak to a psychiatrist. This, Michael supposed, would probably be the smart thing to do. Once again, in Chemistry, he noticed Mr Kane?s strange aura. It seemed to be the reverse of everyone else?s ? when people passed near him, their auras poured towards him and became absorbed in his body. It was as if Mr Kane?s aura fed off other people?s. He didn?t trust Mr Kane one bit, and was extremely disturbed when he could swear on his life that Mr Kane was watching him throughout the whole of Chemistry. They were doing some out-of-the-book exercises that lesson and the room was filled with the general murmur of classroom chatter. The whole time, Michael kept an eye on Mr Kane, and not one time when Michael looked up was Mr Kane?s eyes not firmly trained on Michael. ?Finn?? Michael murmured. Finn gave a muffled grunt of acknowledgement. Michael hesitated. ?Nothing,? he said, and looked back up at Mr Kane. Still staring at him, he saw. Finn looked up from his calculations and glanced between Michael and the teacher. ?What?s up?? Finn asked, concerned for his friend. Michael looked away from Mr Kane. ?Well, Finn. What do you know about...about telepathy?? Finn adopted his mildly surprised expression. ?Well scientifically it's like, impossible. Unless you can like manipulate gravity, or make really strong magnetic fields, but that?s just plain impossible.? Michael nodded. It was the answer he had expected. He decided not to push further, and jotted down the answer to the next question just as the bell rang to signal the end of class. He piled his books into his bag untidily. He bustled his way out of the lesson, eager to get out of Mr Kane?s unwavering stare. He was first to the door, and pulled it open hastily, striding out into the corridor. Straight into the shoulder of Chris Mitchell. Flanked by Steve, Drew and Derek. Michael swore under his breath. ?Just what I've been waiting for,? Chris grinned, and began stretching his muscles and flexing his fist. Before Michael knew what had happened, Steve and Drew were either side of him and Chris had delivered a crushing blow to his abdomen. He crumpled, and everyone in the corridor gasped. Two people took photos. Drawn by the commotion, Mr Kane strode out into the corridor. He frowned at Michael, and ordered the two boys off him with a look of fury. ?All of you must report to the head master?s office immediately,? he commanded. Chris looked him up and down with utter contempt, but even Chris didn?t argue with teachers. He submitted, and Mr Kane escorted them all down the corridors, lending Michael a shoulder to lean on. Chris and his cronies swaggered on the other side of Mr Kane, and looked confident that they would escape punishment. Mr Kane pushed open the door to the head master?s office and Michael slumped into the nearest chair. Chris, Steve, Drew and Derek all arranged themselves as far away from Michael as possible. Mr Danes, the head master, looked up in surprise as Mr Kane opened his mouth and began to speak. ?I caught these boys bullying Michael here in the corridor. The main culprit here had just punched him in the stomach while those two held Michael down,? he said, gesturing as he spoke. ?I demand that they are punished as severely as p-? ?Thank you, Richard,? Mr Danes said, cutting Mr Kane off short. ?That will be all. I can ascertain the truth for myself.? Mr Kane frowned and stood silent for a few seconds, before giving in and walking out of the room moodily. Mr Danes frowned, and turned to the group of bullies first. ?Chris, you and your bunch are lucky your father practically owns this school. I am forced to let you off with no more than a warning, but remember it is within my power to expel you if you overstep your boundaries, even if your father would fire me straight afterwards.? Chris nodded, and sneered at Michael, who sat in the chair clutching his gut. ?Now, get out,? Mr Danes ordered. Chris gave one last sneer to the both of them before motioning for his cronies to follow him. Mr Danes sighed and ran one hand through his immaculate grey hair. He turned to Michael who was still doubled up in the chair. ?Do you need a nurse?? Mr Danes inquired. Michael managed to groan out a no through gritted teeth. The pain of being under such physical punishment so recently was a constant dull ache that was just beginning to return to normal after being piqued by the punch to the stomach. Mr Danes frowned again. ?Look, Michael, you can?t go picking fights like this.? Michael couldn?t believe what he was hearing. Him, picking a fight with Chris Mitchell? Not in this life. Nevertheless, Mr Danes continued. ?Chris Mitchell is bigger than you, stronger than you, and much better connected. I?m afraid in order to deter you from being so idiotic as to pick a fight with the likes of him in the future I?m going to have to put you in detention.? Now this Michael truly couldn?t believe. He straightened up in his chair. ?I would like to believe that an afternoon spent in detention will stop you from making such decisions again.? Michael was stunned. He was being punished for bumping into Chris in the corridor and having a fresh bruise added to his stomach. Without realising what he was doing, he opened his mouth to speak. ?What the hell?? he almost shouted, ?I?m being punished? For what! For bumping into someone who has ?better connections? than I do? I?m being punished because someone else?s father is a rich aristocrat?? He was getting angry now, the words pouring forth in a rush of emotion, ?Your view of education is warped, sir, if you think I deserve punishment when idiots like Chris get off scot free. You?re an idiot! A tyrant!? He knew it was coming, but he couldn?t stop it happening. All at once, against his will and directly above his head master?s desk, a crack appeared. It filled the width of the room, and widened to a metre across. Swirling reds and yellows flitted across the surface and began to spill over and flow through the room. Mr Danes seemed t

2010-05-09 02:05:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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Wow. That was awesome. But three weeks!?! > Well, whenever you add new chapters, could you leave me a message? I really want to see how this all plays out

2010-05-09 05:21:00 Author: Kog Posts: 2358

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I don't mean "3 weeks", I meant on average. Um, like, 1 every 1 1/2 weeks? The chapters are like 2,500 words apiece, and what with exams coming up, and I'm busy a lot of days, then 1 every week and a bit isn't too bad, right?

2010-05-09 09:14:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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See, look, a new chapter

2010-05-11 19:31:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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Yay, I'll read it now

2010-05-11 19:33:00 Author: Kog Posts: 2358

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Okay, lemme know what you think Methinks I might end up being more frequent than the 1 1/2 weeks release dates...

2010-05-11 19:51:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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Wow. I like this stuff. I've actually been working on a story as well, but this is better then any of my stuff, great job!

2010-05-11 21:38:00 Author: chezhead Posts: 1063

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Glad you liked it chezhead, glad you read it mainly too This is the first time I actually wrote a short brief of the story before starting writing proper, so it is a lot more coherent than anything I've written before. I wanna read your new story now Did you continue that one about the end of the world? And the warehouse full of cool stuff and the prophecy that the main character would destroy the earth and stuff?

2010-05-11 22:34:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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I has teh added 2 chapters for you

2010-05-19 12:06:00 Author: dawesbr Posts: 3280

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Yay! I am now happy... but... Richard Kane pulled up his car on the kerb by the park,

2010-05-21 21:54:00 Author: chezhead Posts: 1063

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Cool! I just finished chapter 3, will finish up the rest tomorrow. I don't really know anything about writing, so sorry I can't offer any constructive criticism.

2010-05-22 04:44:00 Author: thekevinexpress Posts: 256

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it's really good! write more!

2010-07-09 16:30:00 Author: lightningbug1 Posts: 515

Posts: 1077139    Threads: 69970    Members: 9661    Archive-Date: 2019-01-19

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