I'm 14, and my two dreams in life are to become an actor or an author.
I write stories all the time, but I never seem to finish them. It's my major downfall.
Anyway, this is a snippet I wrote yesterday on the current story I am writting.
(The title is a work in progress)
If you see a grammatical error, please tell me!
Talia landed on Rowena Avenue, her wings making a sickening crunch as they descended back into her spine. She pulled out her jumper and forced it over her wavy hair, over her arms, over the two holes in the back of her tank top. She glanced around cautiously, straightening her sweater. She didn’t want to arouse confusion by landing straight into his backyard, and she definitely wasn’t going to do a Justin and land on his windowsill. God knows what family member might see her, not to mention she had no clue as to what the house he lived in might look like. She stealthily moved her body from the moonlight-shone footpath to the shadows cast by the monster pine trees from the woods. Up ahead, she could see a large, unkempt mansion, reminding her slightly of those eerie haunted houses from the horror movies of the sixties. Although it didn’t have the tall, black gate, the cracked, broken windows and the ancient, dead trees, and yeah, it seemed only thirty years old (or older, she wasn’t good as guessing the age of things): you still got those heebie-jeebies that only those mansions could give you. Old-fashioned navy bricks and timber boarding the windows, the house was probably 4 stories high. She had a sudden mental image of a cackling, evil witch’s laugh as lightning stuck behind the threshold. Talia hoped to god that this wasn’t his house. She walked on a little further, her head in the clouds. Why had Justin said to come only if there was an emergency? Was Justin keeping something from her, something he didn’t want her to know? She sure hoped not.
Darting quickly across the road to a rundown unit where a battered mailbox stood out front, she glanced at the number: One-twenty-four. Damn it, she cursed, she had gone too far. Unless…
Talia retraced her steps until, with dread filling up her heart, she came back to the haunted house, reading the mailbox number. Yep, this was the place, all right. But how? Talia couldn’t begin to imagine someone innocent like Justin living in such a place that sent chills down her spine. It just wasn’t right.
Now she had found Justin’s family headquarters, she realised she hadn’t taken a spare moment’s thought to what she would do once she arrived. She had this whole plan mapped out in her mind: Find out where he lives, fly there and ask him. Obviously, she now considered bitterly, she did not reflect upon the parts in between.
Talia would not waltz up to his front door and demand to speak to Justin, she, of all people, was the least likely to have the courage to do so. Her mind conjured up ideas, but the sensible side of her brain battered them down like flies on a fly squatter. Every hopeful thought was useless as dust. Just as she was considering ringing him on her mobile and telling him to look out the front, she heard shouting and lights being switched on in Justin’s house. She hadn’t even recognized that the lights were off until this second. She should have: it was odd that the home was dark at quarter past six, unless nobody was home. Worried that someone might happen to spot her standing here, she hurried to the garden that surrounded Justin’s house. Even though the sun was setting and the sky had not fully begun to darken, the garden kept her hidden.
Drawing her attention to the window nearest her, she could see the outlines of a middle-aged woman and a young teenage boy. Talia instantly recognized Justin’s untidy hair, but his posture suggested that he was in horrible pain. Talia yearned to go and help him, but she somehow knew this wouldn’t be such a great idea. Justin clutched his stomach, looking like he was about the vomit his guts out, when she heard someone screaming at him.
“DON’T FIGHT ME, JUSTIN!” The woman screeched, brandishing a whip (or something to that effect, Talia couldn’t see exactly what it was) at his back. The force sent Justin onto his knees.
“I’m not like you, mother! I never will be! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” he retorted with as much volume as he could muster under the circumstances.
“Oh Justy Justin, Oh justice one, won’t you understand?” His mother cackled, circling her suffering son, “Be like your family, be the person who you were destined to become.”
“NO, I WON’T!”
“Well, what a shame.” His mother muttered sinisterly. “Too bad we’ll have to knock that attitude right out of you.”
And to Talia’s utmost horror, his mother’s face and body transfigured. Her facial features and nails became lengthier and her hair became shorter. A pair of skeletal velvet wings shot out of her back like rebounded springs as she grew in size.
His mother was a dark flyer.
How badly she wanted to scream out for help, how badly she wanted to run smashing through the window and rescue her Justin. But sadly, all she could do was helplessly weep for his pain. At one point she had to stuff her fist into her mouth to prevent her from crying out loud. Several minutes passed, as his mother whipped and clawed and physically tortured him until blood came seeping out of his arms, legs and back. She winced every time a crack of the whip came belting down on his back, every time Justin would howl out in anguish. It took Talia a little while to realise she had dropped to the ground. She mentally pleaded for her to stop, I’ll do anything if you make her stop, for her to grow tired and leave Justin. A couple more minutes passed, and finally her wish had come true. His mother transformed back into a normal woman and she gathered up her whip, heading for the door.
“When you change your mind, Justy, I’ll be awaiting.”
And with that she headed out the door.
Note: This story has been edited!
Giving you a rundown on the story:
There is a breed of genetically developed sub-species of human existing on earth. They are called flyers. They are able to soar through the skies with the eagle-like wings that emerge from their spine. Unfortunately, it's impossible to tell if you are a flyer till you reach the age of 16. And if you haven't been born from a flyer, it's can be difficult telling someone they have the ability to fly. That's where Justin and Talia come in. Justin, a seventeen-year-old teenager and the rule of the school, was given the task of coaching sixteen-year-old middle-class Talia about her new powers. And yeah, there's a little romance thrown in.
There are those flyers who exist in the world that don't use their abilities for the greater good, though (as all bad clichés go). Dark flyers, as their names happen to be, are those who believe their powers make them superior to every other being. Their latest craze: eliminating all the poor excuses for a flyer.
