Flyboy: Immortal

“Daddy, why do you have to go?”

The child used his gloved hand to wipe his runny nose. Frosty air brushed against him, leaving specks of snow on his winter coat. He glanced at the dull sky and felt a longing in his gut. As a heavier gust of wind blew against them, he began to shiver.

“The police think I’m the one that made Mommy go away.” The father stretched his hands into the gap. “Adam, put your hands out.”

Adam did as his father said, but made sure his hands were a safe distance from his dad’s. He waited in anticipation of what was about to happen. His eyes squinted as he looked for any sign of embers. At that moment a small flame appeared between the father’s cupped hands, growing large in a few seconds. It was always fun to watch his dad play with fire, making it jump from hand to hand and spin like a twister.

“Are you ever going to tell me how you do that?”

The father chuckled as the flame started to twist in circles like a spring coil. “I’ve told you before, it’s my gift; I just make it happen.”

“Do I have a gift,” the boy asked with excitement.

“Maybe, but you won’t know until you get older. I didn’t find my power until I was a teenager.”

The boy watched his dad manipulate the fire for a few minutes in silence. It would pop every time snow tried to land in his palms, making Adam jump a little. Eventually, he became bored.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to meet an old friend and fly to our cabin in Alaska.”

“Why?”

“He’s going to help me deal with the police.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And how come I can’t go?”

“My friend doesn’t know about you. If he did, he’d take you away.”

“Why?”

“Just stop asking questions,” his dad said with frustration.

“Sorry.”

They looked at each other for a moment and he could tell his dad was nervous. He turned and picked up his suitcase. By the time he looked back around, his father had already gotten rid of the fire and was smiling with effort.

“You ready to go? I’m sure Charlie and Helen are dying to see you.”

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So what do you guys think about it? Good for a prologue or no?

It nice...I but you should put more description into the fire and the boy etc.
You have allot of dialogue and not enough explanations. And in the first little bit you said he a little to much.

As a prologue, it fulfills it's purpose. I'm not going to go into grammar and spelling checks unless you want me to?

Didn't catch anything major..except

dieing-->dying.

Thanks for the comments, it makes me feel good. I didn't really want the prologue to be too long. Anyways, I should probably work on Chapter One soon. Watch out for foreshadowing.

Hey! This is good. The only thing I had a question on is that I couldn't really tell who was talking, but I figured it out in the end. I like the Father's gift. I hope the rest of your stories continues like this. I didn't find any errors except for the one's up above.

Good job! I'll continue to look for the next chapters!


BBB

(will you please critique my NaNo?)

Not a bad prolouge. It's doing its job and drawing in the reader. But may I suggest a few things? You need to describe the people and emotions better if not more. Also, could you back off of the pronouns, "he did this, he did that". It can get a little boring, thus taking away from the story itself. Not a bad piece, nonetheless!

I've written another version of this prologue from the dad's point of view that is a lot better. I'll exchange them or something today. I've also got Chapter One, Chapter Two, and a little bit of Chapter Three done due to not sleeping last night. So after I spruce them up a bit I might post them.

This is a pretty good prologue. It draws the reader in and everything but there are times in this prologue where you are telling rather than showing. Like when the child asks whether or not he has special powers. Rather than saying, you might find out later just have the dad shrug and later in the story show the kid discovering his power (if he's supposed to).

After I'm finished cutting down a tree, I'm going to post the alternate version of this prologue that I talked about earlier. It's from the father's point of view and is kind of cooler.

Pretty good, except what the others have said. It's a little dry, not much description. But a good first shot. also...

Mantis wrote:“Do I have a gift,” the boy asked with excitement.

should be this:

-----> "Do I have a gift?" the boy asked with excitement.

(Sorry, i'm a stickler for technicalities....)

but don't be discouraged. keep up the good work!!

I thought it was extremely good.

It could maybe use some more emotion though. I mean, it only mentioned the boy being sad at the beginning. If my dad where leaving, I would be sad all of the way through.

Adam sat in the back of English class listening to Mr. Reynolds go on and on about the wonders of reading. His arms were crossed over the desk, his head laying on top. Another minute and he’d be making his way home on the bus, which was almost as bad as this crap. It wasn’t that he had trouble reading, there were just more important things in life than whimsical fiction. He mistakenly told Reynolds that during the first week of school. Yesterday he received his first book report assignment, it was War and Peace.

The clock hanging above the chalkboard acted as if it felt his anticipation and purposely slowed down. Sarah Winchester’s long black hair kept flipping from side to side as she looked from the notes on the board to her paper. Being seated behind the girl of your dreams had a perk: she never knew you were staring at her. He watched how her hair caught the light and grinned from cheek to cheek. Suddenly, the light was gone and a figure was responsible for blocking it.

“I know Sarah’s hair is shiny, but would you please take down the notes on the board, Mr. Russo. I’m being kind enough to let you hooligans use them on the test. Taking advantage of my generosity would be the least you could do.” Reynolds’ sneer complimented his beady little eyes.

“Sorry, Mr. Reynolds, the bell’s about to ring. Have to go do hooligan things,” Adam said with a lick of sarcasm.

The teacher tried his best to quell the uproar of noise caused by waving his arms like a bird attempting to fly. “Just for that, Adam, I think I’ll give you--”

The bell rang, drowning out the detention that was surely being sentenced. He quickly slung his bag over his shoulder and dashed toward the door. He’d pay for his mouth tomorrow, but today he reveled in his rebellion. Darting between students, he sped down the hall and out into the front of the school, throwing himself down on the top step. Most of the time his bus was waiting for him, but today it was nowhere in sight.

After waiting patiently for two minutes, he jumped up and ran down the sidewalk for three blocks. Spotting his arch nemesis, Dan Lovell, entering Avery Park, he thought it his duty to find out what the miscreant was scheming. He slipped through the gate and tracked Dan’s movements from a safe distance. Eventually, he paused near a tall tree, grasping the closest limbs and heaving himself up. Adam realized he was in the open and hid behind a bush. Watching intently, he couldn’t figure out what Dan was doing, that was until Clair Foster walked past on the cobblestone path. Once she was out of earshot, he started laughing hysterically at Dan, who was still in the tree. This startled Lovell, making him fall off a thick branch and toward an old bench.

When Dan Lovell fell straight through the bench and onto the ground beneath it, Adam let a smile creep upon his face. He hadn’t seen something special in ten years, since his father left for Alaska. Dan squeezed from under the bench and took a hunched position. His eyes shone with shock and embarrassment. Something inside him wanted to scream with joy, but instinct ruled Adam’s behavior.

“You’re a freak of nature, Lovell. Don’t you know stalking is a crime?”
“What,” he said with bewilderment, then the words sank in, “you nosy little insect!”

Adam almost literally galloped in the opposite direction. His feet weren’t built to move on uneven ground, but he could still keep a gap between himself and built-like-a-brick Lovell.

He pushed his way through the thick brush on the far side of the park, looking back once in a while to catch a glimpse of his pursuer. Shouts came from behind him, how far he couldn’t tell. Thorny limbs scratched his skin and torn small holes in his jeans. Someone not too far behind yelled about throwing him in the river. Maybe calling Dan Lovell a freak of nature was a bad idea. If he’d waited until school the next, he might have been able to talk to Dan about it. He wasn’t one to wait.

A good fifteen minutes later, he emerged on the other side of the trees and was met by a nice fall breeze. It calmed his pounding heart. The enjoyment didn’t last long as tree limbs snapped behind him. Listening closely, he expected more crunching to follow. Nothing. A figure ran out of a tree like a ghost, screaming with fists shaking. Adam stood for a moment then coming to his senses, ran away from Lovell. He ran faster he thought was possible from his thin body. The tall grass made it hard to get good traction. Peering ahead, the river came into sight in the distance. Oh crap! If Dan was as much of a freak as he thought then he’d probably move right through the grass. He had to get away. What was it called again, fight or flight? Well, flight sounded good to him. Better to run away then get beat up.

That’s when he noticed the change. It was something new, both physical and mental, that he’d never felt before. His mind became focused. His steps became fewer and fewer. Then there were no steps at all. The river stopped getting closer and started becoming smaller. Wind was wiping strands of Adam’s black hair out of his face. He looked around and was startled to find nothing except sky. Glancing down, his eyes met Dan’s, which were wider than the river he stood at.

“What the--”

Adam leaned forward and sky-rocketed away before he could hear the rest of the sentence. It was a mile before he slowed down. The rush of adrenaline was too much; he started whooping and hollering at the top of his lungs, though no one could hear him. He could fly, he was special. Small oak trees below told him that he was at least 300 feet off the ground. In the horizon he could make out the Whitfield Mountains and on the other side of them Quinton City. He scanned for his aunt and uncle’s house beneath him. Finding it was simple: just look for the grey stone house that looked like a small castle and had a pool in the back. Within minutes he spotted it at the base of one of the mountains. Not knowing how to turn, he was glad that the house was straight ahead, though he would come in from the backyard. He cleared his thoughts and focuses on landing.

At first he slowed down, but it wasn’t enough to keep from smashing into the ground. So he quickly veered toward the pool at the last second. Not only was he propelled to the bottom of the 12’ pool, his breath was knocked out too. Deep brown eyes strained in the thick chlorine water; arms thrashed and feet flailed in an attempt to reach the surface. After an eternity, his body felt the sharp air above the surface. He blinked the chlorine from his eyes as best he could and swam to the edge, pushing himself onto the pavement. The sliding door opened and his aunt Helen ran to his side.

“Adam, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he lied, “I was just running away from a dog.”

“Well, come inside before you get sick or die.” She ran back inside, most likely to start a fire.

Adam hung back for a second, turning his eyes to the sky. This was it, he thought to himself, this was what he had been waiting for his entire life. No more fantasizing, no more hoping, it had begun. His life would never be the same again and he liked the feeling. He only wished his dad was with him, then everything would be in place. His aunt stuck her head the kitchen window:

“You coming inside, soaking beauty? What’s got you so quiet?”

“Just thinking, I’ll be right in.”

Oh cool! That's way cool! There was only one small thing:

you said

It was a mile before he slowed down.

And then later you said

Small oak trees below told him that he was at least 300 feet off the ground.


That's two different heights. Change that, and it'll be awesome!

Great job! I like how he discovered his power. I could totally picture it!


BBB

He's up 300ft in the air. The mile is how far he went geologically, like a car.

The first thing I would have to point out (and I really this is just me) but I'd be freaking out for a little bit longer if I was suddenly flying around XD

I think that's the only thing that I have to say.

other than that, I think it's really neat! You're descriptions are put in there really well, and I really enjoy it. I'm curious to see what happens next.

--meow