Young Writers Society

Hey ya'll! This is Sands of Time, I am trying a different style of writing for me, several different viewpoints and what not. Anyways, please help me correct errors, and if you like it, I will put more up and get even more of you lovely peoples valuable help.

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Sands of Time

She ran.

The baby in her arms slept soundly, delicate lashes spread across its pale beautiful cheeks like butterfly wings. The sun set behind her, the sand hot under her aching feet. This child was the key to her world, the power it possessed would save them all. But would it survive the night? That was yet to be determined.

Her shadow stretched in front of her, and as the sun disappeared behind a dune, she fell. Holding the baby close to her chest, she cushioned it, trying to keep the worst of the blows off of it as she tumbled. But the baby was awake now, and crying, the sound echoed eerily in the quiet twilight.

A far off yell, a silent gasp, and she was off again, stumbling in her desperation to get away, to protect their lives. Tears in her eyes, she fell, and could not get back up. Praying to the gods, praying for help that would not come, she wrapped the small baby up in her arms, quieting it, and waited for death to find them in that hopeless hour.

The gods were with her that night though, the evil men chasing her soon lost their way, lost her tracks. A caravan passed by, picking her and the child, whom she claimed was hers, up and taking them to the nearest city.

The gods, you see, had a reason for this. The child, small and helpless as it was, was going to save their whole world.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The grains of time have shifted, and now we look down on a small boy, no more than eight years of age. He plays with his pet monkey, but this is not the child we are looking for. Though this boy would play an equally important role, he was not our focus for the moment. No, we are looking for the young boy’s best friend, or so he thinks. A boy of thirteen, he takes care of the small boy, and he will for as long as he can.

The monkey though, is a thorn in his side.

“Ali, get your stupid monkey away from me!” He calls. “You know my mother won’t like it if I go home with monkey fur on me.” Flipping his fair hair out of his dark green eyes, he glares penetratingly at the monkey as it scampers away.

“Aw, lighten up Jai! You know he wouldn’t do nothing on purpose!” Ali giggles as the monkey clambers his way up Ali’s arm to perch delicately on his shoulder. Chattering at Jai, the monkey almost seems to be laughing too.

But now that you have met the boy, why don’t we let him take over, let him tell his own story? Of course, we will jump in to explain certain things, but for now…lets let the boy have his moment…shall we?

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Chapter One

-Agh, mom is gonna kill me. Stupid monkey!- Jai thought. He looked accusingly down at his lightly brown shirt, the dark fine hairs from the monkey clinging to him ostentatiously. His mother would easily spot them. Sometimes he wondered just how strong her eyesight was- the woman never missed a thing!

But at least she didn’t know about Ali. If she did, he wouldn’t be here with him right now. His mother treated everyone as if they were trash, turning her nose up to people that were homeless, and handing out a grudging coin every once in a while. Once, when he had asked her why she was so selfish, he had gotten a good smack and a vague “We deserve better than this…” as she stalked away.

In truth, Jai wondered how she was even his mother sometimes. They looked nothing alike, and they shared none of the common interests normally seen in a family. Ali looked like he could be her son, more so than Jai. But these were only thoughts that showed themselves when he was sulking after an argument, or feeling rebellious. Jai cared for his mother, no matter how different they were. It was only in his nature.

Glaring up at the harsh cerulean sky, shading his glinting emerald eyes, he gauged the time. It was around three in the afternoon, and eyes widening slightly, he called out a hasty good bye to Ali. Waving distractedly, he raced away from the dark haired boy, a deep forbidding of his mothers wrath sitting in his chest.

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If you cannot tell, Chapter one isn't quite finished, a little incomplete, but I want to know if anyone likes it before I write more. This was pretty much brain-vomit, and I had to get it out...haha...