Violet Saga: Chapter One Rewrite: Re-edited

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Rewritten VS part1

Anulekha fingered the violet pawn. Eyes darted throughout the game board searching for all possible movements. Calculating which move would work out best. A scowl played on her lips as a black knight moved forward across the board and closer to her violet pawn.

My fingers toyed relentlessly with the corner of an ancient page. The corners were dog eared from chronic reading. The yellow faded paper was corroded and thin. The cover rough against my skin as I held it, gingerly. The moonlight streamed in from the open window. The luminous silver glow illuminated my room, making it easier to read. The scrawls of the journal were faint and hard to read. The light breeze rustling the paper and caressing my face. It gently blew my hair into my eyes. I didn't notice the cold anymore. Eyes squinting at the page in the dim light I concentrated on the entries. I was far too absorbed in my reading. The knowledge sucked me in. The compulsion drove me to read on. I turned the page. The green leather-bound spine scraped the palms of my hands. A booming clap of thunder shattered my focus. My head snapped up while a streak of blue lightning lit the world outside.

I yanked the red knitted quilt in attempt to uncover my legs as I moved to get off the bed. My bare feet touching the cold wood floor, sent shivers up my spine. I took a step forward. I was sent tripping over the quilt as it constricted my legs. Snatching the cloth I freed my legs. Rain was began to drip to the ground as I run over to the window. I shut the window, feeling the cold glass against my skin. So cold yet so calming. My fingers spread out on the frigid glass as I peered out of it. I caught the glimpse of a stranger in the shadows. I could make out a pair of black eyes gazing at me, I could tell from his height he was one of the older kids that lived in the Orphanage. I frowned and turned away. Ms. Rosa needed to know one of the kids was outside in the rain. Closing the curtains I began to cross the room to the door. I was passing my mirror when I stopped.

I stood in front of the pale green mirror. The wood had obviously seen better days however it was still usable. A narrow crack ran down the left side and proceeded to branch out. The effect lead to the reflection appearing shattered. The other kids hated this room. It had too many books. They hated the mirror the most for some reason. I couldn’t comprehend why this room was considered such an appalling place. I loved this room, however. It gave me comfort with its dusty books. The cracked mirror to me was breathtaking. The cracked mirror showed that no one was perfect. The cracked reflection projected the true imperfectness all people had in common.

I gazed at my reflection. I was slightly apprehensive if I was to be honest. This was the first time I looked at myself in the mirror since I arrived around six months before today. I had been absorbed in school and fitting in here I never stopped to look at myself closely. My stomach clenched as I hesitated in looking at myself. I mustered up my courage to stare at myself in confidence. My skin was still pale. Although now it seemed to resemble a rather unhealthy shade of white. My face was still heart shaped the same structure like my mother’s, but it was gaunt. My cheeks sunken resulting in me looking haunted. My eyes, though, had changed almost drastically. Before my arrival here they had been a deep blue. Now they were a shade of violet. Their gaze swallowing me up and I conceded in my mind how I loved the new change.

Pulling myself from my trance I continued my walk to the door. The old, rusting knob was cold to my touch as I turned it. I stepped outside of my haven and into the hallway. The green wallpaper and white carpet made me cringe. How I hated the color white, but I was distracted from my disdain when I saw some of the older kids glaring at me.

I glanced to my left as I heard the soft footsteps of someone coming upstairs from the first floor. I could see Rosa before anyone else. Her blue eyes surveyed us taking in any signs of trouble. She spoke, her voice quiet but ringing with authority, “What is it you guys are doing? Are you not supposed to be doing homework? I’m sure your teachers won’t be happy if they find out you didn’t do it.”

The older kids scowled but left quickly without protesting. They had no intention to get into trouble with the teachers. That would spell a letter sent home and a scolding from Rosa. Something they most definitely didn’t want. Even I had to admit I would do anything to keep myself out of trouble. I watched as they left and glanced up at Rosa. I knew she would give me that look. You know the one that adults have? They raise an eyebrow in a very obvious way of signaling, “Well?”

Just as I guessed, she turned to me and raised an eyebrow. The look obviously meant, “Well?”

I gave her a small smile. I attempted to speak but all I could muster was, “I-I-” before I felt my throat sear with pain. So instead I used my fingers and signed, “I have it done.”

She looked at me. I was still thankful that she was able to read my sign language. Which was still rather clumsy. I grinned, knowing that soon she would teach me something new. She gave me a small smile, asking, “Mind if I check it over?”

Shaking my head no, I turned to open my door. She took hold of my wrist and spoke, her voice gentle, “Alexis, are you ok? You don’t look so well.”

My hand shook as I forced the lump down my throat. I succeeded in managing a raspy and shaken, “I’m ok...”

I walked into room trying to hide my shaking hands. Never before had I felt someone besides them that cared so much for me. Now they were gone, however. I forced myself to push the memories away. I looked around my room, nervous; this was the first time Rosa had come in here since she allowed me to stay in here.

Books that once lined the walls were now stacked beside the table in the far left corner, opposite of my bed which was at the far right. In between was the window. I step sided in order to allow her access into the room. She glanced around, a smile tucking at the corners of her mouth.

I moved my piles of books off the table so she could sit. My fingers curled around the dusty old books, the frail and cracked spines and covers scratching cuts into my skin as they fell. Wincing at the loud crash, I scooted them over into a small pile. I stood up and saw her reading it over. Her eyes held an emotion I couldn’t identify...I began to grow nervous.

She looked over at me and spoke softly, “You have only two spelling mistakes, child. Other than that this is a very good paper.”

I smiled and looked over the paper. I took the pencil from her hand and fixed the two errors. She smiled as I looked up, “Good job Alexis. Now how about I teach you the different colors?”

I nodded and lightening streaked in through the storm and I remembered what I was going to tell Rosa. I felt angry at myself for forgetting and quickly signed, “Ms. Rosa, I saw one of the kids outside in the rain earlier.”

Nodding, she explained, “Steve has already come back in. So it’s no worry, now.”

I nodded as my eyes darted back to the closed window. I was unable to shake off the feeling that something was not right about the boy with black eyes. Such black eyes...they were familiar but for the life of me I couldn’t remember who else they belonged to.

A flicker of a picture flashed before my eyes. A pair of smiling brown eyes. I let out a small gasp at the sudden intrusion. I attempted to follow it but came to a brick wall in my memory. I couldn’t get past no matter how hard I tried. I fought and pushed until I finally gave up. Drained of energy I sat on the bed as Rosa began to explain the concept of colors. Somehow I knew this...but how could I? I knew things looked different but what did that have to do what is behind that wall?

She found a book with a yellow cover and saying, “This one is yellow. Can you say yellow?”

I paused thinking, ‘I learned this before...but I can’t remember the others. There has to be others right?’ I finally began to focus and closed my eyes tightly. Eyebrows drawn together I could feel the letters and word on my tongue, but still the answer came out raspy. Pain clouded my head as I spoke, “Y-y-yel-yellow.”

She grinned at me, reassuringly, “Good job. This one is green.” She held up a green covered book.

I winced at the sharp pain in my throat. My hand shook as I rubbed my throat. Pain still swam through my head as tears prickled behind my closed eyes. “G-g-gre-green.”

She nodded in approval and held up a red book, “This one’s red.”

My eyes stared at the red book, panic seizing control. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging deep in the palms. Every part of my body tensed, my mind shrieking alarm bells. ‘Look away!! You don’t need to remember!!’

Too soon however the memory gripped hold. Flashes appeared in front of my eyes. A stranger. A pair of black eyes staring into my own. Ice encasing the guy. Darkness. Fear. Slowly I fell into the memory, every part of me trying to repel the memory.

I sat on a chair in a kitchen, my hands holding a book on colors as I diligently read it, making sure not to bend the pages or the spine too much. The cover felt cool in her hands, as if bewitching me to soak the knowledge between its cover. Around me were red oak cabinets and counters. The room behind me was a living room. The whole room seemed too wide and too open. It was huge compared to my miniature size. I glanced up to the sound of footsteps coming down from upstairs.

I quickly sat the book down, carefully though, and ran to the person shouting in obvious joy and excitement all children seem to hold, “Daddy!!”

My Daddy stumbled slightly as I wrapped my arms around his legs. I pouted inwardly. I was still too short to reach any higher. I could hear his warm laughter and saying, “Hi there kiddo. Whatcha working on?”

I grinned up at him. A beautiful and trusting smile gracing my face. The perfect smile of a young child and exclaimed exuberantly, “I’m learning to do colors, Daddy!!! You wearing a red shirt!” My voice was full of accomplishment and pride.

He smiled at me, his blue eyes held pride for me as he spoke, “That’s right kiddo”, he knelt down to my level and asked, “How about you go get your mother? I’m sure she’d love to be woken up by your beautiful voice.”

With a grin I ran upstairs, shouting, “Mommy, wake up!” In my excitement I didn’t see my father’s glance at the doorway nor the stranger that stood behind it. He was staring at me with an indistinguishable look, the intensity of the stare of this stranger was unsettling.

My father opened the door just as Mommy and I entered the kitchen to make breakfast. He spoke to the stranger. His was voice polite but stiff, “Hello do you need something, sir?”

The stranger stared my father, his black eyes caused a sense of fear to enter my Daddy’s mind. It caused him to turn guarded, he shifted slightly so he shielded Mommy and me from the stranger. The man hissed out, speaking a strange language the parents had thought to never hear again, “Aíy ´süy Ålexis.”

My father’s eyes widen as there was a sudden loud crack of a gun as blood seeped through his shirt. The man stepped over the dead body of my father. Fear clawed at me and I backed away, terrified. It had hit his heart directly and stared at my mother shielding her child. Her violet eyes sparking with rage and the protectiveness of a mother. She spoke the same language as the man, her hands tracing soft, almost unnoticed symbols on me. Which glowed like golden lights before they disappeared, just as the man grabbed my mommy tightly by her arm. He tossed her towards my father. He spoke a soft word and watched as the mother slid to the floor. Her eyes dead looking as he stared at me. I stared at him with pure terror written all over my face.

I struggled, trying desperately to find a way to escape this nightmare. Tears filled my eyes as I backed myself into a corner. I felt terror seize me. Tears streaked down my face as he grew closer and closer to me.

With a smirk he whispered, “The child of Angemon, a treat thy lord shall gladly welcome at his side.”

He moved and just as he touched me his body was encased in ice. My flight or fight response sent me reeling as I stared at the man. He was now covered by an inch of cold ice. My eyes were now ice blue. The clash with peril suddenly unlocked so much of my talent hidden inside. I stared at the man. I did not want to acknowledge what I just did. I glanced down at my dead parents. The blood soaked the floor at my feet. It imprinted the sight deep in my mind. I finally surrendered to my panic. The relinquish to my intuition caused the ice to squeeze the man tighter until finally it suffocated him and shattered. It sent blood seeping down the man’s arms. He slid to the floor without another movement.

I stood in the wreckage blood splattered on my shirt and face. My eyes turned to their usual blue. I whimpered in fear. ‘What just happened? Why are Mommy and Daddy not moving?’ Shock was finally breaking through my adrenaline. I felt overwhelmingly tired and curled up on the floor beside my parents. I hoped that when I woke this had been all a dream.


I stare at the book, not seeing it. All I saw was the black eyes of the father. Suddenly, I remembered Steve’s own black eyes and felt a shiver of fear up my spine. Shaking, I felt something tremble and break inside me. I watched through frightened eyes as shadows began to twist and form into a black man; no features whatsoever. I could see its hands, feet, and head, but not the distinguishing features such as eyes.

I watched as my body shook in fear as it drew in close. It didn’t seem to understand my fear as it hoisted me into its arms. My hands clawed at it, trying to break free. It didn’t work and they just went through. I shivered as an icy cold swept through my body. A few minutes of struggling I noticed it was to help me, not harm me. It held on to me and blocked my vision of the book.

I could tell it thought the book as a threat. It would stay until the threat was gone. Shaking, I slid out of its embrace. I slunk to the floor as my legs were no longer able to support me. I saw Ms. Rosa take the book and hide it amongst some of the others. The shadow watched her. It seemed unable to understand the book wasn’t really gone. It faded into nothing as Ms. Rosa walked to me, slowly.

She knelt in front of me and pulled me into her strong arms. I sniffed as I clung to her. Soon I began to feel tired and rested my head on her shoulder. Feeling comforted by her motherly embrace, I began to drift to sleep.

As she moved to the bed, I soon fell asleep. As she laid me down, I didn’t see her loving look. Nor did I feel her smooth my hair from my forehead. I drifted in my restless sleep.

Rosa looked at me, her thoughts in a whirl. She could only think at the time, ‘What happened to this child? Such power is rare in a child her age.’
Last edited by Soulkana on Fri May 06, 2011 2:03 am, edited 3 times in total.
May the gentle moon take you into peaceful dreams. May the mighty sun brighten your new days.




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This chapter is very good, I do like the rewrite that you've done, it's clear to understand and I like how the emotions are very pronounced. One thing - I do believe that when you're writting a flashback that it should either be in italic or spaced more like this.




This would be the flashback area .....




And then you could continue writting, it just shows that it isn't in the same time period .. almost like a script except without the whole CAPITAL INDICATIONS - FOR THE - TIME PERIODS . Other than that I have to say the ending isn't exactly my favorite - I don't think that Rose should know that the girl has power, because in any other place a woman would stare and go "What just happened?" but Rose seems to be all calm and collected like she's seen things like that before... I'm not sure if that was what you wanted but ... i dunno .

Other than those nitpicks this was well written, and i can't wait to read chapter two. :)

-Write on.
To fly away on gossamer wings, sheer as night's reflective glow, I would could I cradle child hecate to my breast.

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Heya

Once I got past the slightly jerky beginning, I found this interesting. A few rough spots, but it shows a lot of promise.

The first thing I noticed were your somewhat stiff sentences. They smoothed out shortly after the start of the story, but I'd look over your first couple of paragraphs again. They have very repetitive structures, and it gets mildly tiring and boring to read. If you vary your sentence structure a bit, it'll be easier to get into and not be so repetitive to the reader.

The second thing I noticed, especially in the flashback, was the PoV shifting. You're in a first person PoV here, which means we should be getting nothing else but what the MC is seeing, unless she has magic that allows her to view the world through others' minds. Since you haven't really established that, really go through the flashback (and right after) to make sure that we only see the setting from the MC's perspective. It'll make it much less confusing.

Another confusing thing was what she is signing and what she is actually saying. She seemed to be talking just fine, until we got to the speech therapy. Then it made me realize she'd probably been signing the whole time. Try to come up with some sort of visual clue or tag to show when she's signing and when she's speaking.

Overall, interesting idea, but it got really confusing at the end. This was primarily because of the PoV shifting that happened in a first person story. I also found it a bit off that she'd never looked at herself in the mirror even though it was in her room. Your character's voice seemed rather solid, though. I just want to hear more of it!

PM me if you have any questions/comments.

~Rosey
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.




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Yeah I noticed things were getting rather awkward at the beginning but I will fix that later on...I'm going to try and write this in third person next time to see if that fixes anything...just to see. About the signing I might do signing underlined and the reason she signs is because speaking is sort of something she can't do very well and when it does it can cause her pain....I might need to work on that more. Thanks for your review and I'll work on rewording this once I have time ^^ and that is not now ahaha. Either way thanks and good lucks
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I could tell that speaking caused her pain; my main confusion was what's speaking and what's signed. Once you clear that up (underlining should work) it'll be much better. :)
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.




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I underlined what she signed and what she didn't. Hope that helps ^^
May the gentle moon take you into peaceful dreams. May the mighty sun brighten your new days.



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