Young Writers Society

This is how my story in the first person point of view. I have completely rewritten a portion of my book, which is written in the third person omniscient point of view. Funny how originally I wrote my book in the first person point of view. I'm just not sure what POV to have it in anymore. I like them both, so I need some suggestions.

The book alternates between five characters, but here I only have two. I just wrote this a while ago. Oh yeah, I already described the heck out of all the animals in the filed, which consists of water. Yeah, everybody is walking on water.

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Chloe

The bald eagle on my shoulder ruffled its wings. I giggled as the feathers tickled my ears. Everything had changed so fast, like the ambiance of brilliance after you flick a light switch. The darkness shunned out. I gazed into the eyes of the eagle. It twisted its neck and stared back.

We were eye to eye. A bird of prey and me, a fragile shell on the verge of shattering. The eagle opened its beak and drew its head close to me. I reached out with a hand and stroked its feathery body. It was surprisingly smooth. The eagle did not seem to mind this at all. When I drew my hand back it was moist with oil. I wiped it on my pant leg and took in my surroundings again.

The other people in the field with me were also content with their animals. A lot of them had bald eagles like me, but others had exotic creatures like crocodiles and wolves. One boy in particular stood out from the rest, beside him was a gazelle and a Hoopoe was perched on it's shoulder.

With the transformation of the once caging blazing trees, the field was a beautiful place. A genuine feeling of happiness was something that I rarely had the luxury of feeling. But when I did, it never lasted. Like vapor, it faded away. Leaving only the sour smell of sorrow.

My sense of happiness was shattered by his appearance. Nathan. He smiled at me. How dare he? The bastard. After what he had done to me, I could never forgive him. I began to walk away as Nathan walked toward me, but he clasped a hand over my wrist and tugged me to him. “Le me go,” I said, unable to find the will to say it with authority.

Nathan said nothing. He merely took a hold of my other hand and began to slowly move me along with him. There was an oddly rhythmic pattern to his movements. My eyes shifted to the eagle on my shoulder. It was had begun to dissolve until it was only a shadowy silhouette. I felt the tears build. I didn't want my feathery friend to fade away. Being alone is a feeling I have felt for too long.

Suddenly, I felt myself flung from him while his right hand still had a hold on my right. Then he drew me back to him. This time our bodies collided. As he put a hand on my waist I figured out what was happening. He was dancing with me. Every animal that surrounded me ignored what was happening. But several people, particularly the kids, stared at me with odd expressions. It's like they're looking at a mad woman, I thought.

“No,” I said feebly and started to pry myself from him. He only coiled his fingers tighter on me. “Nathan,” I pleaded, “please stop.” And then just like that, he let go and stood there before me.

Without a seconds hesitation I turned around and strolled away from him, and stopped in my tracks. Before me were my friends. At least, that's what they said they were. But they turned out to be nothing but deceivers. They truly never cared about me, seeing me as only a tag-along. All that they liked about me was that I could provide a house where they could throw their parties. Oh the things I have done at them. Decisions I can never go back on. And time and time again, I haven't learned to stray from them.

I stepped to my right and tried to go around them, but Greta broke from the group and blocked my path. A gleam of glass in her hand caught my eye. As she raised her hand I saw that it was bottle of beer. I felt the pain threaten to explode from me. How many of those vile drinks have I consumed? I shall never know, for I was too intoxicated to keep count, and the hang-overs the sunrise after made it too painful to try and remember.

I raised my hands to her and shook my head. Like Nathan, she only smiled and headed for me. Before I could take a step back she was in my face, handing me the bottle. Unable to think of what else to do, I reluctantly took it in a hand. Greta nodded and with her hands pantomimed drinking it.

I shook my head violently and handed it back to her. Greta tightened her knuckles around the bottles neck and stared at me with cold expressionless brown eyes. I looked away and made a break for the left. Yet another one of my friends hindered my progress. It was Helen, a bulimic girl. Something I suffered a mild case of, and probably still do.

I watched as she causally put a hand in her jeans pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. With a sad expression glazed on her face, Helen shoved the bar in her mouth and bit off a huge chunk. In the same manner, she downed the rest of it, and then she pulled out another and another. What was she doing, I wondered, feeling my eyebrows scrunch.

Then when she raised a hand to her mouth and shoved a finger inside, I understood. I looked away as her puking began. When she stopped I allowed my eyes to open. There was no vomit on the waters surface, but I know that it did happen. Helen took a big step toward me and thrust a handful of her chocolate bars against my chest. I pushed her hands away and the candies slithered down my body and collected at my feet.

“No,” I said as I pushed past her. A black hooded figure appeared from around the dragon. A glint of silver in it's left hand. A knife. An instrument I have considered to cut away my life with. But to this day, I've either been too cowardly to do, or simply could not do.

How could I? How dare I? Simply do that to my parents? Parents who didn't listen to me when I tried to tell them in my subtle manner about my wanting to move. Move from my problems. Fleeing was what I really meant by it. But they were my parents, and they were the only ones I would ever have.

The figure stalked toward me menacingly and held out the blade. I turned to the girls and Nathan, who eyed me like a pride of lions would their prey. But what they were truly hungering for, I did not know. That is, until the figure drew one of its sleeves up. With its right hand it mimed slashing at its left wrist.

“No,” I whispered feebly. It was pathetic, I sounded so weak. But that is exactly what I am. Weak. I clasped a hand over my mouth as the figure dug into the delicate flesh underneath its wrist. Blood flowed out of the gash and seeped up its forearm.

I backed away toward the others, who began to slowly circle me. The black figure also stalked toward me, like a snake. And then, with no route of escape I simply walked in a circle myself. Before long, it was at my side, studying me like a scientist would his life's work. The figure handed over the blade to me, fresh with blood.

Too afraid to say anything I took it in my hand. Goosebumps erupted on my forearms as the cold steel connected with my palm. The figure again mimed cutting. Unable to hold it in any longer, I wept. I cried so fiercely that my vision became clouded. Then a golden light so bright that my eyes involuntarily shut themselves, illuminated the field.

I released my grip on the blade and stood were I was. A feeling of warmth and happiness radiated through my body. A thunderous roar forced my eyelids open.

The black figure, Nathan, and the girls had backed away a few steps. There were glints of fear in their eyes, except for the black figure, whose face was not visible. I turned around to see what had made them feel so frightened. What I saw in the distance was true beauty. It was the largest lion I have ever seen. I stared at the creature, mesmerized by the golden shine of its mane and fur. I grabbed a lock of my hair and compared it to the lions. My parents often called me their precious gold because of my golden blonde hair. But up against the texture of the lions her hair was dull and... human.

Out of every animal or person on the field, it was the only one whose paws touched the waters surface. I knew that it was my way to safety, so I walked toward it in a ceremonious manner. My tormentors immediately homed in on me and incirlced me. I was a caged animal again. I threw my hands out and tried to push them away, but they pushed back. And they were a lot stronger. I thrashed against them, but it was futile. I was too weak.

I extended a hand out to the lion who stared at me with longing. But why wasn't it helping me? Feeling the cold hands of the black figure I lashed out. The blow did nothing to stop them. I wanted to cry out in fright but couldn't. As their arms wrapped themselves around my body I wept. It was if they were playing tug of war with my body.

I kicked and shook my shoulders as my tears poured, to no effect. They would not stop.

Daniel

I stared in shock as the girl thrashed around madly as if she were being pulled in every direction by invisible beings. Feeling the urge to go and see her I started in her direction. But then a shiver ran through me. I could not, because I was too afraid. But the poor girl, she needed my help!

Turning my head every way, I saw that I wasn't the only one person worried about the girl. I faced her again and my mouth dropped as her coat was torn from her. She wasn't insane, there were invisible forces fighting her.

“Please, I need you!” the girl cried out in yearning.

I prepared to run to her side before the lion rushed toward her at God speed.

Chloe

Everything was too much and I fell to my knees, and lost all hope. I continued to sob as they lashed at me again and again with their hands. They were pounding the will to live away from me. Something I didn't have much of. Then the pressure ended and I was again bathed in that miraculous light.

I turned around and my tears were wiped away as if by an angel. The lion was shielding me from Nathan, the girls, and the hooded figure. But they were battering it so ferociously, and yet, the lion showed no sign of giving in.

Nathan delivered blow after blow against the side of its head, the girls clawed at its side, and the the black figure stabbed at it with the blade. The lions fur ruffled and frothed with the viscous beatings, but the look of sincerity and love never left its face.

I could not move for I was so swayed by what I was seeing, and was vaguely aware that I was holding my breath. Why wouldn't it do anything? The poor creature. It could easily tear them apart and yet, it does nothing; taking the beatings that I rightfully deserved. Time and time again it is struck and stabbed. Through it all, the lion stood its ground. Finally, after the seemingly eternal bombardment of poundings, everybody except the dark figure, were swept off their feet as the lion roared. It was like a chorus of a thousand waterfalls and thunder claps.

The black figure circled the lion with it's snake like movements as it backed off. I approached the lion, but stopped and instead sprinted away. Just as I always did, I backed away from affection. I did not deserve it. Not after all the things I have done.

I cringed as a gunshot exploded behind me. Without even a glance back I knew that the black figure still wanted me to end my life. This time by the pull of a trigger. And who knew, maybe I would. It seemed like an easy way to go. Except for the part where the frigid steel of the death stick in my hand.

I yelped when the black figure caught up to me at a supernatural speed and held out a gun to me. It was a forty five caliber hand gun. The black metal as dark as the figure that held it. In a lightning quick movement, I snatched the gun from it and ground to a stop. I turned the gun over in my hands. Was this my only escape?

The black figure put a hand on my shoulder and put it's head next to my ear. In my peripheral vision I saw Nathan and the girls stop on both sides of the black figure. I should have known that I couldn't get away, because they would always be a part of my life, no matter how hard I tried to make it all fade away. My hands shook and the gun trembled as I raised it. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed the barrel against the side of my head. The black figure dug its fingers into my shoulders, as if willing me to pull the trigger.

And then I felt it, hope. I don't know where it came from, all I knew was that I had to take advantage of it before it was crushed. Opening my eyes, I flung the gun away from me and shook myself free from the black figure. I didn't look back as I ran among the sea of animals and people, seeking a place of refuge. Refuge from my pursuers, who I now knew were my demons.