Young Writers Society

This is my first storybook! *fingers crossed*

Plot:

‘If we die then we won’t ever come back again, because there will be no future to come back to.’

Who said the past couldn't be repeated?

The ancient Mayan Calendar ends in the year 2012. No one knows what to expect. Scientists confirm that time will only be recreated, and life will just keep going. But nothing could be further from the truth.
On the twenty-first of December 2012, time starts to erase itself.
There is no more tomorrow, no more future. No more hope.
Time turns backwards, starting to relive the past. Modern history, Middle Ages, ancient history, dinosaurs – it’s all on rewind! As soon as the world reaches the very end of time everything will cease to exist.
A group of people have to discover what their past lives were before time catches up to them so they can try to save their lives from getting destroyed. Otherwise, them and their past and present lives will be erased from time… forever.

Who are you?


Some suggestions to what your past life might be:


Spots:


Character Profile:

Please submit all characters in the sidebar.

Code: Select all

[b][u]Present Life[/u][/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age (13-29):[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Strengths:[/b]
[b]Weaknesses (fears and/or fatal flaws included):[/b]
[b]History:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

[b][u]Past Life[/u][/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age of Death (13+):[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Strengths:[/b]
[b]Weaknesses:[/b]
[b]History:[/b]
[b]Death (how did s/he die?):[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

The Discussion Thread is available. Please use it to check in and/or post any ideas or questions you might be having for this storybook.

Upon reading it, I find it interesting.. Relive your past to survive, adventure that begins a new era thus, a mixture of genres are yet to arise from this story. There are a lot of questions that needs to be answered hence, What If's? That makes someone eager to read it.

I'd love to claim a spot please and if you're still looking for someone to play Lexi's twin, @therealme then I'm up for it

Yay! That would be awesome

If it's still available, could I take that last 10th spot please? This seems really interesting

This sounds interesting. I'm in!

I like the concept but I don't understand the idea so much that I can join in. Plus this is one of those things that I am better off reading than contributing to because otherwise I would just end up altering the plot so much.

Oh okay, fair enough I hope you enjoy reading it then! (once we start it that is...)

Sebastian

Moving to New York was probably one of the best things I ever did.

Coming from a small town raised girl, you'd think this odd. I always felt my heart belonged to the business and bluntness of the city. Besides, the University I had been accepted by had a wonderful music and medicine program, which is what I was focusing on at the moment.

I was sitting in the coffee shop just off of campus - seizing an entire booth in the back to myself - with my neurology, oncology and music theory textbooks, as well as my anatomy notes and my well-loved snare practice pads and Chop Outs, every now and then hacking out some difficult rhythms when my mind ached for a break from memorizing the common things that go wrong in Radial Neck Dissections. Somehow I ended up mixing the two together.

Accent right. Triplet diddle. Rim shot.
"Brachial plexus."
Flam tap. 5 stroke roll.
"Weakness or paralysis-"
Para-diddle. Para-diddle-diddle. Reverse para-para-diddle.
"-of limb muscles."

I kept at it for a good twenty minutes at least, successfully memorizing the entire list, but I couldn't say the same for the first six lines of snare music that made my forearms ache with exhaustion. I sighed.

"More tea." I spoke to myself, eyeing my empty cup and feeling the heaviness in my eyelids as I noticed a light drizzle start up outside the coffee shop. I nodded firmly to myself. "More tea."

Hanorah

One more week until Christmas holidays,I said to myself.I couldent stand anymore of school all I've been doing for months is studying,I needed a break.

I came home from school and threw myself on the couch,my stomach rumbled loudly.I sighed,and walked into the kitchen where I was met by my younger sister Alana. She looked worried and she wasn't focusing.

'Planet calling to Alana'I laughed.

'What?..'she asked,only waking up from her thoughts.

'Whats up?'I said as I grabbed a piece of bread and shoved it in the toaster.

'You know how people are saying that there is going to be an apocalspe on the 21st of December,a week from now?'

I nodded slowly waited for my bread to toast.

'Well what if its true,what if we all die?'She asked 'What do you think?'

I looked at the book she was reading 'the Mayan calendar' and I started laughing.

'I assure you that this won't happen,I mean it's a load of lies,do you know how many times people has said the world is gonna end over the last few years?'

I smiled,she looked convinced.

'One more week of school'I told her,which cheered her up.

I crunched into my toast.'One more week of school'

I kept aside my diary, which was filled with more doodles than entries, as I got out of bed. I put on my jumper and trudged down the stairs. I made my way to the kitchen; I groaned as soon as I saw what dad was up to.
“Not again daddy!” I whined.
“Now Kerry, don’t be a kid. Set the table”, he ordered, ignoring my protests.
I slumped into a chair and grudgingly served myself a spoon full of veggies.

“This diet is not working,” I told dad as I put a carrot into my mouth.

“It’s working great. Platter of healthy things” he said, grinning at me.

“You better not make me eat this on my birthday,” I told him, getting back to my “platter of healthy things”. At the mention of my birthday, I immediately transported to dream world. I was turning 19 on December 21 and couldn’t wait to be a year older than my best friend. The birthday card I was making for myself was almost complete, I just had to add more of the color purple to it, and it would be done.

“What are you getting me for my birthday?’ I asked dad.

“A ticket to Paris” he said between mouthfuls.

“Really?” I asked. Paris? Yay!

“Yeah, and Rome too”

“Dad!”, my face fell when I saw him chuckling.

It was half past ten when I finally got back to my room. Once there I took out my marker and crossed out 14th December on the calendar. December 21 was circled in purple with a birthday note scribbled next to it. Barely a week left!

Life is a storm of winds flying in every direction, and people are the leaves of trees and petals of flowers blowing every which way in the chaos.
We cannot choose whom we collide with or where the wind takes us; only the squall can decide that. The only things we can choose are our own thoughts, forever changing like the colours of the leaves.
We can curse the will of the wind or enjoy the ride.
And wherever it may lead us, may it be a beautiful valley of colourful flowers or a fallen rooftop full of dark shadows, we must learn to face it. That is where we are supposed to be.
This is our destiny. This is our purpose. And the storm of life has placed us there because that is where we must choose to change or stay the same.
Then off we are again! Swept off our feet – twirling and dancing on the wind once more to meet our new destination.

Lexi

Lexi was late.
Her alarm hadn’t gone off that morning and she had to skip breakfast to make up for lost time. School was several blocks down from her street, and she only had five minutes to get there. With her bag strap hanging unevenly off her right shoulder, Lexi sprinted along the side path that ran parallel to the road. The chilly, winter breeze bit at her nose and numbed her fingers, seeping through her thick layers of clothes as if she were naked. Mist formed with her quick exhalations – panting.
Lexi was sure that she’d set her alarm last night. She could clearly remember the familiar beep of the digits assuring her that she would wake early.
Rolling up her left sleeve, Lexi glanced down at her watch. Eleven past eleven it read. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lexi said in exasperation, still keeping the fast rhythm of her feet upon the ground. Lexi noticed that the second hand was frozen and silent. My watch must be broken.
Once Lexi arrived at her destination she started brainstorming excuses in her head. My long lost relative came to visit… I had to help an old lady cross the road… My cat got stuck in a tree… None of these excuses would work on Mrs. Shots.
Lexi opened the heavy school doors and skidded through the hallway towards the art rooms. Twenty pairs of eyes turned towards Lexi as soon as she took a step over the threshold.
Mrs. Shots had been in the middle of explaining something on the board, but her mouth was now clamped tightly into a firm line. “Hello Miss Morris. Nice of you to join us today.”
Lexi took this as an invitation to sit down, choosing an empty seat near the back of the room. Thank God she’s in a good mood. Lexi let herself relax into the plastic chair beneath her with a relieved sigh. Well, better than normal mood at least.
“As I was saying, this term we will be looking at famous post-Impressionist artworks from the nineteenth century. Now, this is your last year, so I expect you to do some decent research for your selected artist. I wasn’t too impressed with some of your previous essays.” Mrs. Shots eyed on of the students in the middle row. “And yes, this does go towards your grade.”
A chorus of groans sounded from a few of Lexi’s classmates.
Mrs. Shots is very expressive in the way she dresses and acts. You would have no trouble spotting her in a crowd with all the vibrant colours and quirky designs she wears. Unlike the other more conservative teachers, Mrs. Shots goes right out there with her style – after all, she is an art teacher. Her long hair is nearly always left out in a black waterfall of curls, which Lexi finds strange considering most women her age cut theirs short and die it purple. Mrs. Shots is definitely no twenty-five-year-old, but her personality could be. Today she wore a long red and gold kimono with cherry blossoms embroidered in royal blue and dark grey, along with bright red lipstick and numerous beaded necklaces and bracelets. Some would find her shocking; Lexi just thought she was interesting.
It felt like forever before the bell rang. Normally Lexi enjoyed every second of her art classes, but today she wasn’t in the mood.
Her dad had been extra violent that morning – she had smelt the frightening scent of alcohol on his breath. He used to be able to control his addiction… then Lexi’s mum left, and Lexi was alone in the world.
As Lexi exited the room to find her next class she felt something vibrate in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she checked the new message.

Hey Lex. We need 2 talk.

The message seemed completely believable, yet Lexi kept reading the sender’s name over and over again. She hadn’t spoken to this person in eight years.
Afton.

|Lukas Hyde|


“Lukas, pay me a molecule of attention please!”

The tall brown-haired boy slowly raised his head, facing his father. His dark eyes were dead and tired-looking, as though their owner hadn't slept in a month, and his legs were unsteady,” I'm paying as much attention as I can,” he muttered, his words slurred.

His father sighed a 'what am I going to do with this boy' type of sigh and stepping forward put his hands on his sons shoulders, forcing Lukas to look into his eyes,” son,” he said,” people's lives have to be controlled. If you can't control your life then you will fall apart in every way. The first step to control is balance!”

“Dad,” Lukas protested, tired of his father's constant worry and pestering,” you're getting worse than mom. I'm fine.”

Dr. Hyde shook his head solemnly,” no you're not.” His brown eyes bore into his son's face,” if I had to bet, I'd say you haven't slept in at least two days. You're grades are dropping. You can't pay attention to anything. What's wrong?”

Lukas shoved him roughly away, now thoroughly annoyed,” I just told you,” he growled, his voice rising,” Nothing. Is. Wrong!” He instantly felt a spike of guilt at his father's hurt look.

“Lukas. . . .”

Lukas felt his resolve at not talking to his father crumble to dust, and slowly he fell against the wall, his eyes stinging,” nothing's wrong, dad,” he whispered,” but that's just it. Nothing's wrong. Nothing. But nothing's right. Nothing's wrong . . . there just isn't anything there at all.”

He felt his father's arms wrap around him,” son,” he said softly,” I worked hard for what we have. A good life. Money. A future. Don't feel bad that you have what you have now, take it. Learn to use it-”

Lukas shook his head,” but what if this 'good life' is just making us weak? Maybe we need some problems. Some challenge.”

Slowly Dr. Hyde's face creased into a smile,” you sound like my old man,' what doesn't kill ya makes ye stronger.' Don't worry. You just need purpose. Go, take a walk, try to find something. Don't be back too late though.”

Lukas raised an eye at him but said nothing, his father NEVER let him go out into the city this late, with his friends or not. He just smiled back and nodded encouragingly,” don't worry, I'll take care of your mom.”

Lukas nodded, taking a deep breath. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe this would help,” thanks dad,” he whispered.

Strong arms embraced him once again, and then, turning, he paced down the dark hallway and back out the front-door. His life was ripe for change.

I've had a horrendous mental block all day and it really sucks, so sorry in advance if this post is a little weak.

Oscar Ebbsworth

Everyone's looking at me, oh holy mackerel. Holy sweaty mackerel. I'm going to faint--no, screw that, I'm going to die. I am literally going to die. Embarrassment will be the death of me and I'll be thrown into a dirty hole in the dirty ground where all the dirty insects and dirty maggots and dirty rabbits and--actually, wait, I don't think rabbits can dig six feet under the ground, can they? They should be able to though. Violent things they are. This bitch of a rabbit bit me once, and the thing literally latched itself onto my finger until I flung it into a bush. Devil creatures. Fat, disfigured cats if you ask--

"Oscar!" A scream so loud it almost deafens me interrupts me from my thoughts.

Well that was rude.

"What in God's name is wrong with you today?" Mrs. Bailey snaps at me as if I haven't noticed myself how terrible my dancing's suddenly become.

I've no idea what the hell's happening. My rhythm is the problem, I can feel it. I'm trying to dance in time to the dated music Mrs. Bailey, whose husband I pity on a daily basis, keeps replaying, but I just end up resembling a deformed fish who's suddenly developed tourette's syndrome. Holy mackerel, what if I have developed tourette's? I've already got one foot a size bigger than the other, and that's one of my life's greatest burdens already. Why is the world punishing me like this? Is this because I'm a butt pirate? I bet it is, it's always about the butt pirate thing.

"Oscar!" Another shout--well, more like the deranged mating call of a banshee really. "Jesus Christ, answer me, boy!"

"Sorry Miss, but I'd rather you didn't commit blasphemy as I find it highly offence due to my traditional religious beliefs, thank you," I answer in an attempt to distract her, and everyone else in the class for that matter, from my previous horrendous rhythm whilst dancing.

She raises her eyebrows. "That's strange considering just last week you spent an entire hour describing your theory to me regarding God's soul being distributed into the body of every duck in the world so that he can watch over everyone." She begins shaking her head. "That hardly coincides with 'traditional religious beliefs'."

I hesitate. "I'm very versatile."

As I continue my lesson into the afternoon though, I learn that I'm a lot less versatile than I thought because for the next two hours, my usual perfect rhythm never returns. Stupid rhythm.

I'm not really sure what to do, so I guess I'll post again. ._.
Sebastian
Mhmmm. Tea.

I sipped it warm drink slowly, mindful that it would burn my throat if I chugged it down. Not that I would want to. It tastes wonderful and I wish that I wouldn't have to buy more after I drank it all. My forearms were still sore, and my brain was more than a little nimb from studying. Finals were soon, but mot soln enough to start hardcore stressing myself out. But that was my thing, unfortuneately. I freak myself out before I even get the chanceto calm down. School was very important to me.

One more run through of the cadence. Then back to work.

I gulped therest o the tea down, savoring the warm path it left behind in my mouth and throat and the warm feeling I felt in my stomach. Reminded me of home a lot.

Focus.

I put my arms in playing position again and made sure I internalized the tempo.

DAT dat-dat-dat. DAT dat-dat-dat. DAT da-da DAT da-da DADADADATDAT.

Yes. I finally had the count off.

Sixteenth note rolls, accented first note. Rim shot. Stick clicks. Right handed diddles. Left handed diddles.

I was doing it. I was finally doing it.

buzz roll. Flam tap and accent. Stick clicks-

My left stick flew out of my hand and landed on top of my open oncology book. I sulked in my booth. I thought I had that time sigure down? It was 4/4 for heaven's sake! My arms were still throbbing i figured it was time tocall it a day.

I threw away my empty cup and packed my things in my bag. I saw that it was still raining and cursed under my breath that I didn't bring out my car from the lot at the campus or at least bring an umbrella. I walked at a fast pace with my bag over my head down the two blocks I needed to get back to the campus of my university.