Note: To those who know me, I'm not good at finishing a book because I always come up with new ideas but I kinda need a break from my current novel The Jane Effect and this just popped up in my head. Its going to be different from what I write and it may get gory and morbid and depressing after a while, so beware. Also I'm using mostly flashbacks and things here so bear with me. Right now, the chapters are going to take place a long time before the Intro. Thanks for taking the time to read.
Oh and before I forget, the Intro is up. So you might want to read it before you go on.
Here's the link:http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic36644.html
Again, thanks for reading. Enjoy!!
~Angel
Planned Insanity
By Angel of Death
Chapter 1
Diane
The sun beat down on us, matting my hair to my shoulders. I had told Joanna not to pick a spot in the sun, but because she wanted to flirt with her sister's ex-boyfriend Todd, we were left with the table that sat the farthest away from the door. Pulling her long bronze mane back into a ponytail, Joanna stole a glance at Todd and winked. He was sitting to the left of us, with a couple of his buds on the Football team. Amongst them was Marcus Bryant. If he wasn't Todd's cousin, he'd be sitting by himself instead of with the jocks. Though he was sports material, with his brawny muscles and his tall frame, he was more of a loner than a quarterback. As I followed Joanna's gaze, his eyes caught mine. I wasn't the type to flirt, but I did smile. At first I thought his lips were going to pull up at the corners, but they only molded into a straight line under his nose. A ray of light shone down on Todd's table, illuminating Marcus's eyes. They were blue and green at the same time. Their beauty was so harsh that I found myself turning my head away from them. Joanna happened to be looking at me. She giggled once she figured out who I was staring at.
"Oh my God! You like Marc?" she said, playfully covering her mouth.
"Keep it down," I scolded " I don't like him."
"You were so checking him out. I saw you." she teased, picking up her can of Sprite.
Rolling my eyes, I took a bite of my sandwich and perused the rest of the grounds. The crowds were interlaced with freshman and juniors alike. There were so many ninth graders that you couldn't even make out the sophomores anymore. We became a dying breed when the new kids moved in. If you looked around, you could tell what class people belonged to. The kids that hung out by the wall were the Rebels. They usually wore black and way too many piercings. Then their were the Geeks, they were pushed into the outskirts of the eating area. Their glasses were pushed up to their noses, and every now and then, they'd slide down. It was quite amusing to watch, especially since I remembered wearing them. Joanna and I were apart of the popular crowd. We weren't cheerleaders but we made sure we dated Football players. It was the golden ticket to becoming famous around here.
"You won't believe what Chelsea Sumner did the other day!" Joanna exclaimed, her eyes widening.
"What?" I asked, uninterestedly.
"She slept with Peter Graham. You know, that boy that lives down the street from you." she continued.
"Jo, I really don't care. If Chelsea wants to do that then she can. No prob." I said, shaking my head.
"But a pimply-faced dweeb who picks his nose! How could a girl sink so low?"
A shadow fell over us, making me look to the sky. It was dark gray and there wasn't a drop of blue in sight. Something cold touched my shoulder. Before I could tell Joanna to run, the rain came down in sheets. It slammed against the tables, creating a gray veil. I grabbed my tray and I held it over my head. Joanna was already up, sprinting towards the door. The heals on her shoe were making her stumble as she ran. There was a crowd at the door so she practically had to push her way through. Not being as brave as she was, I waited patiently for the crowd to disperse. My legs were drenched and I felt hot and sticky. A growl resonated in the pit of my stomach, making me wish I would've ate faster.
"Get under!" a voice said.
I looked over to find Marcus standing beside me. His black hair was dripping in front of his eyes. His eyes looked gray under the umbrella that he was holding in his hand. It was orange and blue and it was big enough for two people. I nodded, and retreated to safety.
"I'll take that," he said, pointing at the tray.
Marcus thrust the umbrella in my hand and jogged towards the trash can. After dumping my soggy half-eaten sandwich in the garbage, he placed the tray on the cart and jogged back over. His blue shirt was sticking to his chest, accentuating every muscle. I handed him back the umbrella, my cheeks getting hot.
"Thanks." I said.
"You're welcome, but you should have watched to news this morning."
"Yeah I should have."
John
"Turn that damn music down. I'm tryna sleep," he roared, banging on the door.
"Yeah, sure Dad." I said, reaching over and turning the radio off. I hated Mondays. This was the only day of the week the old bloke was in a bad mood. Even though I didn't dear cross paths with him, I could see his face. Those black eyes of his would be furrowed to match that angry expression he always wore. The receding hair line would be reaching farther back, exposing a mass of shiny pale skin. Sometimes I don't know know where I got my dashing good looks. Must be from my mother, whoever that is.
I heard his heavy footsteps retreat down the hallway and then a door slammed shut. It was always noisy around here. If it wasn't the rain dancing across the roof, then it was doors slamming. If it wasn't that, then it would be the heated conversations of Mary and my father. She's the new wife, so he has to break her in. At least that's what he said.
Not a day goes by when she comes up to my room, looking for solace. I let her in sometimes, but then again, its funny to see somebody other than me get hurt. He used to do me in real good, until I fought back that one time. Now he finds women that are beautiful and turn them into ugly statues of his abuse.
"They're my muses." he says. If you can call purple-faced, bloodied lipped women muses, then gray skies should make you happy. And right now, I'm not feeling so great. Today, instead of asking the beautiful Barbra Sweeney out, I freaked. She thought I was some idiot psycho and ran away. I can still see her golden hair flowing behind her. It matched perfectly with her huge brown eyes. And then those legs of hers are magnificent. They're long and slender, and each time she walks, she has this grace about her. If only I could muster up enough courage to talk to her. Then she'd see that we need to be together forever. There'd be no more running away when that time comes.
I stared up at my ceiling, listening as the rain started to fall down. At first it was slow and then its pace quickened. I closed my eyes and hummed along to the sky's symphony. Amongst the music, I could hear a door opening and closing. It was my father, he was marching down the hallway and then his feet were pounding down the stairs.
"Where have you been?" he screamed. There was a pause, and then a smaller voice uttered something incoherent. This made my father mad, because a scream broke out, before there was another deadly silence.
This was what usually happened when a wife didn't obey the rules. So I wasn't surprised when I heard running water. To drown out the noise my father was making, I thought of Barbra. I could see us holding hands, walking down a beach somewhere. Far away from London, far away from here. We'd have little golden-haired children and we'd grow old together and I'd be nothing like my father. Life would be perfect if Barbra was mine.
Oh Barbra. How I long to make you mine.
