The Modern Oracle pt. 1

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The Modern Oracle pt. 1

"What now loser? You thought you were a step ahead of me, didn't you. That you were better? Well are you? Sitting there in my dust. Blind. Are you off your high horse now?" The voice gradually got higher, but I couldn't concentrate. My tormentor slammed his booted foot onto my head, squeezing it into the loose dirt.

I wanted to scream, but my body was paralyzed; stuck. My eyes were unseeing. I was blind. I couldn't even see a second ahead. Everything was a blur. Something I couldn't comprehend. The boys voice quieted. He wanted me to talk. Well I wouldn't. Couldn't. He giggled mischievously.

"Well do you know yourself now, Gilda? I know everyone can see you for the loser you are. All that matters now is if your ready. Are you ready Gilda? Ready to be sacrificed? This is your life's purpose isn't it?" He laughed cruelly again. I knew what was going to happen. I knew from when I was only three.

This is -- was -- the end. There would be no turning back now.

---~~~---


My eyes snapped open and lightning sounded outside making me cringe. I hated storms. Groggily, as only a sleep deprived body could, I pulled the black covers back, exposing me to the cool air. I shivered, then turned to look at the clock. Three in the morning. What was my problem!?

When I wanted to wake up early for school or anything I managed to get up as late as possible. When I didn't need to wake up, or wanted to sleep in, I managed to wake up as early as possible. What the heck?

By the beating on my window, I knew it was pretty bad out there. The trees that I mistook for monsters when I was a kid struck the window mercilessly. Shadows were cast all over my fuchsia walls. It was three in the morning on a Saturday, and I was sitting awake in my bed. What kind of morning was that?

I shook the sleep from my limbs, and rubbed the gook from my eyes. If I was going to be awake, I might as well be doing something. Slowly I past my my black wood dresser and cabinets. I snuck out my door and tried to make sure that my parents couldn't hear me.

Soon I was past the bathroom door, down the stairs, and in the kitchen. I sat down on the oak chair at the matching rounded table. The counter was lined with a toaster, microwave, oven, sink, and various cooking supplies. I didn't think that I was in the food mood, but what was I supposed to do at three in the morning. What did normal people do?

Sadly, as my mother reminds me I'm as far from it as possible. For several reasons. One, I was from a different country, extremely random (this is my mother's opinon and Lisa, my best friend), I had no memories for my first five years, and I was a foster child, which made me obviously not average at all.

I stared at the darkened windows and felt sleep coming on. Listlessly I faded into oblivion...

"You're made for more than this Gilda. you'll remeber that won't you?" I smile, and reply to my momma,
"Of course momma. I'll always remember."
The woman smiled, and she spoke again, patting my shoulder.
"There may come a time you don't," she looked off into the distance. "I must get writing." she murmured. She started penning something in a book. I looked up and peered over her shoulder.


Must remember...place. The Oracle will not...fifteen...become...sacrifice.

I shook my head as she covered her work. What did that mean? No matter, I'd check on my dad. The woman stuffed the book in a a box. Then the world went white.

For the second time that night my eyes shot open. What a weird dream. Who was Gilda? And what was that lady doing? I found myself pondering the dream. After a few moments, I looked to the clock on the stove. Four o'clock?! An hour had passed! I started to move to the stairs leading to my room when that light came back again. From the windows this time. How is that possible? It was just storming horribly a moment ago.

"Gilda Ashling. It is coming time. Your recollection will return. Your foresight will become apparent. Bide your time." an ominous voice warned. I shook my head again. Apparently I was still dreaming. I obviously had the worse imagination ever.

Slowly I turned and headed up the stairs. But they weren't there.

OOC> Please Reveiw
Last edited by UrWoRstNiGhtMarE on Sat May 08, 2010 2:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
If I was a bird I would fly...


\/\/
fly away...

Release me


o-\ /-o
break them...




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Hi there Nightmare! Bond here with a few quick edits!

My tormentor slammed his booted foot onto my head, squeezing it into the loose dirt.
Okay so at first reading this I was under the impression that she had gotten kicked in the face, then when you said about it being smooched into the dirt I thought that she was lying face down and he had his boot on the back of her head.


"You're made for more than this Gilda. you'll remember that won't you?" I smile, saying,
At first I thought that this was your MC speaking, not her mother. So you might want to say that she replied or something.

Right now I'm a little confused as to who she is, what her deal is, and in general what's going on xD. But it seems interesting enough, and I'm tired, so it might just be me.

Anyway good luck with this!

~Hope
"I'd rather be hated for being who I am, then loved for who I'm not."




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Ahhh! My worst nightmare!

Nah, just kidding. ;)

Anyway, this story was interesting! I don't know though... starting off with a dream sequence sounds like kind of a cop-out for me! I would like to see him introduced first and then have all these funky dreams coming on... it would be so much more dramatic, I think. :)
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

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Hey there Nightmare! Lauren here to review :)

The dream scene was very interesting, but left me disappointed. One of the things about dream scenes is usually the reader doesn't know they are a dream scene. They are exciting, and high-action until the person "suddenly wakes up" and then the reader is left feeling like they were betrayed. This happens much more when it is the first thing in a story. Maybe give us the crazy dreams a bit later, after we know who this girl is.

We don't even know her name yet. Who is she? What is she like? I want to know this girl, and I want to start knowing her from the beginning. ;)

One, I was certifiably a spaz, extremely random, and (and this is my own opinion) I was a foster child, which made me obviously not average at all.

Two things here.
1. A lot of people are extremely random. It's actually quite an average thing to be, in some social circles.
2. How is she a foster child by opinion? A foster child seems to be a foster child only if they are a foster child. Is there a reason she maybe feels like a foster child? This would be good to explain further.

I must get writing." she murmured.

There was no quotation mark at the beginning of this line of dialogue.

must remember...place. The Oracle will not...15...become...sacrifice.

Must should be capitalized and 15 should be spelled out (fifteen). As a general rule, all numbers under 100 are spelled out.

Slowly I turned and headed up the stairs. But they weren't there.

Who wasn't there?

I hope to see you give this a good shining and post it up again. Let us know your MC from the start, and maybe put the creepy dreams on the backburner until then. ;)

Keep writing!

-Lauren-
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This was interesting it was well written I must say. What I really liked your piece was that it caught my attention from the start it did not make me want to skim through it and that is what I look for when I am looking on pieces to comment, so thumbs up to you on that. I look forward to reading more of your work. Keep up the good work. 8)




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Thanks for the reviews. I didn't know if it would be that good, but that's all encouraging.

Thanks for the grammar and spelling corrections, I'm going to go fix them now...

And then for the dreams, I wanted it to seem mysterious, but is that too mysterious? I was going to introduce the character more in the next post. Maybe...

And then for the foster child thing, she thinks its weird to be a foster child. She IS a foster child. Yeah, that needs more explaining.

"But they weren't there" I was referring to the stairs. (Next Part)

>Sorry it took me so hard to reply. I think I'll work on it and re-post it soon. (Computer Troubles) Thanks for your opinions and replies.
If I was a bird I would fly...


\/\/
fly away...

Release me


o-\ /-o
break them...



Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.
— Poe