Young Writers Society

He was lost for words, for all words were worth, his breath taken from him. What had happened to have it come to this? What had he done?

No, he could not stand to stay here any longer. He had to leave this place. Had to escape the deafening piano that would forever haunt him from this night forward, had to escape that voice, that angelic voice that would eternally rasp his heart now and forever.

He strided blindly, stumbling through the crowd, pushing his way through. The door... The door...

Brushing and colliding with the wealthy, the elegant, his eyes kept low. The top hats, the gowns, the cigars, the wine. Oh, the glamour of this place.

Lara, these are your people, not mine. Cursed memories.

He pushed through the swinging doorways of the hotel and out into the open air, making him gasp. Crisp, cold air. Rain fell hard, drowning the sidewalks and streets. Nevertheless, people still navigated their way through the mess, no doubt to see Lara's performance.

He was the only one to be walking away from the hotel theatre that night.

He longed to be further from here. Further still from the concert hall's echoing music. He shoved his hands in his pockets and impulsively took direction down Main Street, intent on heading nowhere for he had nowhere to go.

((Indeed, it's lame. Yeah? See if you can do better? I left holes for you to patch in.))

But then he stopped and thought; Didn't he want to see Lara? Indeed, he had some terrible memories of her, and all she had done, but his fondness for the way she looked at him when they were friends exceeded any terror he had about the old, abandoned theatre.

Intrigued by the idea of a night out, he spun on his heel and headed back towards the old wooden doors of his childhood.

Yes, it is a lot more rubbish than yours, but I really like the story and the whole concept.

RR*

Three days later, he wodered to himself what had posessed him to do what he did.

Lara, three miles away, thought I hope I didn't break his heart again!

Indeed, Scott thought himself a huge idiot.

His drill sergeant seemed to agree.

"Well if this isn't the saddest bunch of recruits I've ever gotten. I have to train you to be Marines?! I've had an easier time training my cat!"

"Is your cat a marine?" Scott whispered to himself.

"What did you say recruit!" the drill sergeant yelled, about an inch from Scott's face.

God, this sucks, Scott thought.

**Wait, is this person who we were previously talking about Scott? Or is it just two parallel stories that will at some point converge?**

Scott is the name I gave to the previous person we were talking about.

Scott's pride had been fractured several nights before. Lara's soft spoken words kept replaying over and over in his mind. He felt as if he should spend two eternities in Hell for what had occured the several nights before.

And now, without further chance to redeem himself, (or further chance to further screw anything up) he was being shipped overseas to some godforsaken country...

Lara's thoughts were of him. How had she hurt him? Did he still think of her? If so, was it with hate or love. The thoughts twisted and turned through her brain, sticking to any hope of him forgetting, forgetting the pain she must have caused. She wandered aimlessly through the theatre, just remembering.

*this is my first storybook, but I really liked the concept. Hope it's OK *

As a mass of land shuddered into view, Scott realised he had made a mistake. As he stared down at his stiff shirt and well scrubbed boots, Scott realised he had made a mistake. A glance at his grim faced companions told Scott that they had all made a mistake and they were no doubt going to pay for it with their lives.
"Marines fall in," A loud voice boomed and, instinctively, Scott fell into line with the men he barely knew.
"Now listen up. See those ships in the harbour?" The sargeant paused, "Well?" He demanded after a moment.
"Yes sir. We see the ships sir," The marines recited.
"Good. Those are your targets. Your aim is to blow them up. If our ship gets blown up swim to the shore. Understood?"
"Yes sir. Understood sir," The marines declared.
"And what if we get blown up?" Scott muttered.
"We no longer have anything to worry about," A female marine beside him replied. "I'm Kathryn. It's nice to meet you Scott," The mysterious stranger introduced herself as they began to load the ship's guns.