We will help you get your mom off drugs!

I think I killed for the first time when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t a big deal. None of my murders were. It’s not as if any of them were particularly malicious or anything. I mean, I did have my reasons. Of course I did. Everybody has their reasons. Mostly, though, I did it just to fill the time. It’s really not that much of a big deal. Some people get an Xbox or buy a pet or study for exams to fill time. I kill people. It’s as simple as that. If you ask me, the only thing slightly strange thing was that I did it when I was only thirteen years old. And they say that girls mature quicker than boys.

Let me explain what I’m talking about.

I think the first question to get out the way is: how does a thirteen-year-old start thinking about murder? Well, I was always an early developer. The truth is, I was highly intelligent from a very young age, both in a book-ish kind of way and also, as I would find out later, in a serial killer-ish kind of way.

The main reason that I so candidly thought about murder, though, was not my intelligence, but my home life. My mother had died during childbirth, so I guess that I experienced death in my first moments on Earth. I’m not sure how much I was processing having just left the womb, but certainly it seems to have had an effect. I suppose you could say, that was the beginning of it.

A while after my mum passed away, my father turned to alcohol, a hobby he continued up to my thirteenth birthday. The alcoholism bothered my brother, Mike. He was a few years older than me but I was always ahead of him mentally. Mike used to come through to my room at night and find me on my bed, reading a book – Ripley’s Game, or something like that – and say, “Nicholas, are you awake? Dad’s shouting again.”

“I know,” I would snap back, “I have ears too.”

“What should we do?” he would moan.

“Just do something to keep your mind of it,” I’d tell him, “like read or write or something.”

“But I don’t like reading,” Mike would complain, at which point I decided to ignore him.

Seeing my father that way every night – shouting, bawling that he was going to kick our skulls in – it made me tough. Of course I knew that a man so drunk would never have the composure to make it up the stairs, so I was not particularly worried but his threats: I would just read away, happily in another world. Looking back on it, though, it definitely did change me – seeing another human being addicted to the very same thing that was destroying them. I never thought that would happen to me. At the time, though, I really thought very little of it – in the mornings I would step over my father’s sleeping, slobbering body at the bottom of the stairs, collect my school bag and walk straight out the door for school. I even found it amusing to shout, “Bye Dad,” knowing in witty irony that I would never get a response.

Soon, though, Mike began on the drink too. And I wasn’t too fond of that. It was out of principal, you see. By the time I was old enough to understand my Dad’s addiction, he was already beyond rescuing. Mike, on the other hand, I had known when he was a normal person. Mike, I could save. So I thought about it. I had a lot of free time since school didn’t challenge me much and, obviously, there was no strict parent at home. I took a while to get my head around it, but ultimately I realised I had to destroy the thing that was encouraging Mike to drink. My first target, at thirteen years old, became my very own father.

At three am one morning, I snuck out of bed and found my father in his usual position: the bottom of the stairs. I went down to him and tried to drag him up. Being thirteen, this was a strenuous task. After all, my father had a beer belly that weighed the same as the rest of his body put together. So to heave this up each and every stair took a lot out of me. But I managed eventually. I went through to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, brought it back, and splashed it in his face. After a while, the giant awoke.

“Dad! Dad! Get up!” I exclaimed excitably.

As he got to his feet he began shouting slurred speech. He peered around, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open, a long drip of drool hanging from the edge of his lip. That’s when I gave a little push. It didn’t have to be hard. The alcohol did the rest. He stumbled a bit, and then teetered on the edge of the top stair for what seemed like an eternity. He clawed at the air, like that coyote from the cartoons, before tumbling backwards. I heard his neck make a satisfying crunch with the edge of a stair before his body clambered down to his usual resting point. I went down and felt his pulse, and once I was satisfied that I had been successful, I went back to bed. I woke up with my alarm clock at the usual time, went out my room, slapped my face in pretend shock, and called the police.

It was that simple.

Im 13 and am writing a story, Basically it’s about this girl (Alana) who has an abusive father, a mother addicted to drugs, her little sister is depressed and her older brother has tried to commit suicide twice. She then finds a shining light in her life, Jake. They fall in love and Jake introduces her to the world of mythical creatures and when Jake gets in trouble for telling Alana all about this they go on the run from the leaders of this world.
I talked to my older sister about this and she wasn’t sure if I was old enough to write about the things her family is going through. What do you think?
I think i will change it a bit. The main male’s name is now Lucas not Jake. The father is still abusive and the mother is just to scared to prevent it. The brother and sister are normal. It is a little bit similar to Twilight and a little smiliar to Harry Potter but it will have my twist on it and wont be much like them.

Jessica’s parents are drug addicts and try to stop their addiction while trying to live their lives in normal society they shun out all the friends they have made over the years except their friends who seem not to judge them.Jessica’ss parents are surprised when they hear that their only friends are having a child that is expected around the date that Jessica is born. When Marina is born Jessica’s parents friends child)Jessica’s parents are selfish and decide it is best that they give their daughter the best life possible.Jessica’s mother was raised in aorphanagee so she wasagainstt that instead her and her husband switched their friends baby with theirs (the children looked the same and were about the same age had the same hair skin etc) Jessica is raised by her parents friends and does not know that theyaren’tt her parents until Marina tries to explain to Jessica that she is another families daughter (marina was visited by Jessica’s mother and Jessica’s mother felt guilty about what she had done so she told Marina about what she had done). Jessica kills Marina because she is happy with her life and wont let anyone ruin it.

ok my sister (22) is my guardian and has been for about 11 months. She took me in when my past gaurdian my uncle james went back to his alcoholic addiction and started abusing me. My mother abandoned me at age 12 and i have no idea where she is. My sister is a CNA and works about 5 days a week. She goes out 6-7 days out of the week to the pub or club and has been non stop for 5 months. Her son (2) is with me for 12 hours a day. From the moment she leaves for work to the moment she comes back from the bar 230-3 am. I am 17 and a senior in highschool and i am watching a 2 year old boy all those hours 5 days a week. and when shes not working she still goes out and sometimes doesnt get home till 4 am. While shes out the baby doesnt sleep and i have to stay up and take care of him. ITs exhausting and my grades have suffered, ive failed my pre cal class. I only have a few months left before collage but i dont even think i can last that long with her. She uses me for a babysitter constantly and my social life and boyfriend are suffering. I cant go out and my bf and i have no privrate time b.c im always watching the baby. When ever i confront her she says i have an attitude and that if i dont like it i can leave, and that she pays the bills. I had to quit my job to watch her son, she cant pay the bills unless i watch him and i of course cant leave. It hurts when she says this since i have been in foster care and have heard that for years over and over. I feel like i dont have a home and i feel used. I cant argue with her about her alcoholism b.c she KNOWS shes an alcoholic and just wont do anything about it. I need some serious help please, sorry its so long..
her boyfriend thats the babys father is in Boston, another state from us and the baby goes up there every few months fro a few weeks but she and him fight so they wont stay together for too long and she wont leave the baby up there b.c she doesnt want his father to have him. My sister wont hire a babysitter b.c shes too cheap and would rather have me do it b.c she doesnt “trust” anyone else. I cant hire one b.c i have no money

I think I killed for the first time when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t a big deal. None of my murders were. It’s not as if any of them were particularly malicious or anything. I mean, I did have my reasons. Of course I did. Everybody has their reasons. Mostly, though, I did it just to fill the time. It’s really not that much of a big deal. Some people get an Xbox or buy a pet or study for exams to fill time. I kill people. It’s as simple as that. If you ask me, the only thing slightly strange thing was that I did it when I was only thirteen years old. And they say that girls mature quicker than boys.

Let me explain what I’m talking about.

I think the first question to get out the way is: how does a thirteen-year-old start thinking about murder? Well, I was always an early developer. The truth is, I was highly intelligent from a very young age, both in a book-ish kind of way and also, as I would find out later, in a serial killer-ish kind of way.

The main reason that I so candidly thought about murder, though, was not my intelligence, but my home life. My mother had died during childbirth, so I guess that I experienced death in my first moments on Earth. I’m not sure how much I was processing having just left the womb, but certainly it seems to have had an effect. I suppose you could say, that was the beginning of it.

A while after my mum passed away, my father turned to alcohol, a hobby he continued up to my thirteenth birthday. The alcoholism bothered my brother, Mike. He was a few years older than me but I was always ahead of him mentally. Mike used to come through to my room at night and find me on my bed, reading a book – Ripley’s Game, or something like that – and say, “Nicholas, are you awake? Dad’s shouting again.”

“I know,” I would snap back, “I have ears too.”

“What should we do?” he would moan.

“Just do something to keep your mind of it,” I’d tell him, “like read or write or something.”

“But I don’t like reading,” Mike would complain, at which point I decided to ignore him.

Seeing my father that way every night – shouting, bawling that he was going to kick our skulls in – it made me tough. Of course I knew that a man so drunk would never have the composure to make it up the stairs, so I was not particularly worried but his threats: I would just read away, happily in another world. Looking back on it, though, it definitely did change me – seeing another human being addicted to the very same thing that was destroying them. I never thought that would happen to me. At the time, though, I really thought very little of it – in the mornings I would step over my father’s sleeping, slobbering body at the bottom of the stairs, collect my school bag and walk straight out the door for school. I even found it amusing to shout, “Bye Dad,” knowing in witty irony that I would never get a response.

Soon, though, Mike began on the drink too. And I wasn’t too fond of that. It was out of principal, you see. By the time I was old enough to understand my Dad’s addiction, he was already beyond rescuing. Mike, on the other hand, I had known when he was a normal person. Mike, I could save. So I thought about it. I had a lot of free time since school didn’t challenge me much and, obviously, there was no strict parent at home. I took a while to get my head around it, but ultimately I realised I had to destroy the thing that was encouraging Mike to drink. My first target, at thirteen years old, became my very own father.

At three am one morning, I snuck out of bed and found my father in his usual position: the bottom of the stairs. I went down to him and tried to drag him up. Being thirteen, this was a strenuous task. After all, my father had a beer belly that weighed the same as the rest of his body put together. So to heave this up each and every stair took a lot out of me. But I managed eventually. I went through to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, brought it back, and splashed it in his face. After a while, the giant awoke.

“Dad! Dad! Get up!” I exclaimed excitably.

As he got to his feet he began shouting slurred speech. He peered around, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open, a long drip of drool hanging from the edge of his lip. That’s when I gave a little push. It didn’t have to be hard. The alcohol did the rest. He stumbled a bit, and then teetered on the edge of the top stair for what seemed like an eternity. He clawed at the air, like that coyote from the cartoons, before tumbling backwards. I heard his neck make a satisfying crunch with the edge of a stair before his body clambered down to his usual resting point. I went down and felt his pulse, and once I was satisfied that I had been successful, I went back to bed. I woke up with my alarm clock at the usual time, went out my room, slapped my face in pretend shock, and called the police.

It was that simple.

Characters:

Elizabeth Ashlee Frand
Sex: Female
Age: 14
Eye: Light Blue
Hair: Long silky blonde
Skin: Pale
Height: 4”11
Clothes: Jeans, T-shirt, and converse.
Personality: The shy, quiet type of person.
Extra: Is like two people. The people who people want her to be, and the person she is truly inside. And has a phobia of being alone.
Life story: very close to her brother, parents fight a lot.

Justin Methius Frand
Sex: male
Age: 18
Eye: Light Green
Hair: Shaggy, silky, brown
Skin: Tan
Height: 6’2
Clothes: Tight Jeans, Flannel shirts, and Moccasins
Personality: Very laid back, but when is mad gets very upset like the world is against him.
Extra: Has friends whom are addicted to all kinds of drugs, which screws him up.
Life story: close to his sister, gets hooked on drugs (forcing him to not swear into the military)

Terrance Frand
Sex: male
Age: 42
Eye: Dark Grey
Hair: Short dirty blonde hair
Skin: Pale
Height: 6’4
Clothes: Jeans, and a t-shirt
Personality: Constantly pissy, not always nice, and very lazy.
Extra: Alcholic
Life story: Mom was a drug addict and dad was abusive. Wich lead him to heavy drugs and abusing alchol at a young age, he got off of drugs around the age of 20 by going to rehab, but drinking just stuck.

Macy Frand
Sex: Female
Age: 40
Eye: Dark Green
Hair: Long (to her waist) blonde hair, dabbed with grey.
Skin: Pale
Height: 5’00
Clothes: Vintage things.
Personality: Very peaceful, hippy-like, takes things calmly.
Extra: Wants out of the relationship with Terrance, but doesn’t have the heart.
Life story- Very rich, had great life around the age of 17 then ran off with Terrance, and got married. Life hasn’t been the same since.

Thank You.

My story so far (chapter 1 at least) is one of my questions.
go to my profile and it is the last question i posted(:
(This is not based on me. 100% fiction)

ok my sister (22) is my guardian and has been for about 11 months. She took me in when my past gaurdian my uncle james went back to his alcoholic addiction and started abusing me. My mother abandoned me at age 12 and i have no idea where she is. My sister is a CNA and works about 5 days a week. She goes out 6-7 days out of the week to the pub or club and has been non stop for 5 months. Her son (2) is with me for 12 hours a day. From the moment she leaves for work to the moment she comes back from the bar 230-3 am. I am 17 and a senior in highschool and i am watching a 2 year old boy all those hours 5 days a week. and when shes not working she still goes out and sometimes doesnt get home till 4 am. While shes out the baby doesnt sleep and i have to stay up and take care of him. ITs exhausting and my grades have suffered, ive failed my pre cal class. I only have a few months left before collage but i dont even think i can last that long with her. She uses me for a babysitter constantly and my social life and boyfriend are suffering. I cant go out and my bf and i have no privrate time b.c im always watching the baby. When ever i confront her she says i have an attitude and that if i dont like it i can leave, and that she pays the bills. I had to quit my job to watch her son, she cant pay the bills unless i watch him and i of course cant leave. It hurts when she says this since i have been in foster care and have heard that for years over and over. I feel like i dont have a home and i feel used. I cant argue with her about her alcoholism b.c she KNOWS shes an alcoholic and just wont do anything about it. I need some serious help please, sorry its so long..
im in CT im not in the city its more of a smaller town
Well ive chosen not to talk to the school couselors since im almost graduated and wanted to just wait it out but its getting too much for me to take. I could stay with my Bf or close friend but i dont want to put a financial and emotional strain on them and their families. Ive always been taught to stay with the family and help the family but my ENTIRE family has screwed me over. I have absolutly no family other than my sister to take care of me and my sisters son is so close to me i couldnt take someone taking him away.

I’m writing a story and while I’ve got it all worked out, and some of it even written out, but the names I chose don’t seem right and it’s driving me crazy. I feel like a suggestion from a third party would help me decide for sure.

Character 1: male, 34years old, has brown hair and blue eyes, graduated from the FBI academy at the top of his class, was a highly esteemed agent, catching numerous serious offenders from the start but fizzled out after his divorce and drinking habits began to take their toll, has not contributed to a significant arrests in nearly five years, views the latest case as his chance to prove he is still capable, rarely gets out due to work and his guilty drinking habits, was born to a poor single mother in Chicago and spent his life caring for her until her death just before graduating from the academy

Character 2: female, 23 years old, has dark brown hair and green eyes, works as a bar tender in a small city in South Dakota, is the sister of a major serial killer’s latest victim, was toughened by years of caring for her sister while her parents struggled to make ends meet after selling their farm, makes a decent living and has been caring for her niece since her sister’s murder, attempts to help C1 with his alcoholism

Please no links, I know there are plenty of names out there, deciding on one is the problem

PLEASE please read it all, i need advice so that i do this right. and so you understand.

so throughout my life very bad things have happened to me. So many memories of being abused and neglected by my mother.
getting a second degree burn on my arm and her telling me to put water on it and leave her be. Memories of being left alone in the foster care system after countless promises of her to get clean and get a job.
The day in the court room when my father was sent to prison for using and dealing drugs.
The foster homes that i was just beginning to love before i had to go and find a new one.
When i moved into my aunts house and her son verbally bullied me and made me cry. her doing nothing to stop it.
The teachers eyes when i had to share something about my family life in class.
The day that my aunt promised to give me back to my dad, but when she stood in the court she agreed to become my legal guardian.
The nights i spent alone in our house in Temecula, mary having to work two jobs.
Me eventually finding a new home where the people accepted me and loved me, like an adopted family in replacement for my lonely one back home. but no, the rent went up again, and we couldn’t find a new house in time before we starved.
so we moved 140 miles away from L.A. where my original family lives (just when we are starting to heal the wounds too) to the desert of 29 palms -a military town-.
when i moved here i fell into a deep depression after having to leave the only family that seemed to love me unconditionally (temecula).
but after about a year out here i decided i didn’t want to be unhappy anymore, so i stopped crying at night and tried to block it out, or bury it deep inside myself so that nobody could see.
and my emotions never got out of hand again. my friends all teased me about how i didn’t really ever get mad anymore or even get angry at the people who wronged me. it was all there still though, all the anger and loneliness and depression. it was like a well full of gasoline. deep underground. but whenever a spark of anger or sadness comes along the whole thing blows up.
and i find myself crying over things that i thought i had gotten over long ago. but the sparks just keep coming with this b .i.t.c. h.
Mary makes it a game to mess with my nerves and tries to break my calm attitude. she chews me out on a daily basis. she yells and bites and cuts me deep with her words.
and i already knew long ago that she didn’t really care for me or even love me. but every time my well blows up and it breaks me as a person to relive it all over again.
and i can’t just move out because my dad is still an ex con and my mom a drug addict. so my only solution to escape this (because i know i’ve tried to explain it to her-plenty) is to run away.

I won’t go into counseling because after my depression before they tried to send me, and it just didn’t work out. I won’t call child protective services and find another home that i will eventually have to leave.
Mary gives all to her son and none to me. and since everything in my room belongs to me(because i bought it myself, with babysitting money) i won’t feel any guilt about taking more than what i came to her with.
I live in the desert like i said, i can’t just walk to another town and live under a bridge.
I thought that maybe i could explain this to one of my closest friends (with a car) and they could take me to the train station with my fake I.D. (I do look over 18 btw) and i could travel a bit like i did with my mom when i was little. do all of this until they stopped looking for me,
then send some letters to my mom and dad telling them i’m ok. and that i will see them when i really do turn 18. i just want to get away from her, and she seems to have trapped me in every possible way.
sorry for the long message but i really need help. I’m 16 and have been wanting to run away from her since i was eight. i have seven thousand dollars saved in the bank account that my sister set up for me and i recently withdrew it all in cash (over time).
just a bit to make you understand that this is my only solution before you answer my question. so please some tips? advice for people on the run? i would really appreciate it.

Ever since those bookshelves fell and crushed my stepfather, I’ve loved books.

I never liked him, not really. He was a ‘scholar’, an epicurist of literature, and always flaunted the fact that he’d read War and Peace, 5 times, once in Russian. It seemed to be his only real claim to fame but nevertheless it entranced our neighbours and they held him up as a god.

At that time, I never really liked books. I didn’t loathe them as such, more of a cruel indifference. School didn’t know what to do with me: ‘The girl doesn’t read!’. My stepfather was famous amongst the teachers; he came into parents evening all dressed up in a suit and started having conversations with my English teacher about Shakespeare and my philosophy teacher about existentialism and my geography teacher about globalisation. They made me their pet then, even though they’d previously ignored me. They still try now to eke out some hidden brilliance. Maybe one day I’ll let them find something- as it currently stands, I’ll stay quite silent, feign ignorance.

I give you now the brilliant thing that led to the destruction of my stepfather. The bookcase crushing him was really only an amusing ironic formality; it was the alcoholism that led him there.

He’d taken to accompanying his Dostoevsky with a large bottle of red wine. My mother ignored it, after all ‘wine is not an alchoholic’s alcohol’. They thought that all scholars took wine in moderation to mean guzzling bottles of red. I don’t know why he did it; I did ask him once though:
‘Sustanance- to keep me living until the pale hands of death shall grab me and drag me with her’
He meant his previous wife. Apparantly she was an alcoholic as well and he threw all her bottles out of the window and she jumped out after them. A guess, though it’s probably true.

Anyway, one day, he asks me to bring him some wine whilst he goes into our library and reads a nice bit of Dickens. I told him it was a bad idea but he insisted. Dickens was on the top shelf, after Dante and before Dostoevsky and my stepfather was relatively short. He stood on the stepladder but he was very drunk and toppled. He grabbed at the shelf but then of course it fell on top of him.

So you see, the whole thing really was a learning curve for me and everyone else. Mother and I never touched alcohol again and the teachers stopped using my stepfather as an example of academic brilliance.

And someday, I’ll be that example.

I stood in the room, staring down at the tragic thing that layed before me. There she was, caked with blood, lying on the dirty carpet. I felt numb. I felt sick. “Casey…” I whispered hoarsely. “I never meant for this to happen. I know I never told you this, but…” I choked for a moment. “I- I love you.” Her eyes flicked open. “You’re alive!” “Look behind you,” She said, weakly. I turned and felt a wave of nausea creep over me. “Hello, Mike,” the dirty, unshaven man said. He held his gun at his side, and stood in front of the boarded up window. “Why are you doing this to me?” I shouted at him. “Mike, you’re a fool. A blamed fool. Don’t you know who I am?” “No! I don’t! I don’t care!” “Mike, I’m your father. I only want what’s best for you. That’s why I shot her! She was using you.” “No she wasn’t! And- and you’re not my father! My father was killed 19 years ago!” “Oh, the lies. Your mother told you those lies.” He seemed calm. My every nerve seemed to jump with the urge to kill him, but something within me made me want to listen to the words he was saying. I knew Casey needed a doctor, but I had to do this one thing… “Your mother hated me. You know why she died, Mike? I killed her. Yeah! I stabbed her! Right in the heart. Do you know what a butterknife can do to someone’s heart, Mike?” I lost it. I ran right at him. He lifted the gun up, and I kept coming. I felt a tug at my jacket, and then there was a terrible pain in my chest that burned like grease from a frying pan. I kept going, and my hands hit his chest with a powerful blow. He fell back against the rotted board, which gave way. I caught the windowpane and stopped myself as he toppled out, falling two stories onto the junk car below. His neck cracked sickly as it smashed the rusty metal. My mind was a jumble of thoughts. I had just killed my own father. Casey! I had to get her to the hospital! I backed away from the window and gathered her up in my arms. I seemed dizzy as I went down the stairs and out the front door. I knew that I wasn’t getting her anywhere on my motorcycle- our only hope rested in the junk car. I pulled open the ruined yellow door and checked for the keys- but there were none. I threw the crumpled body off the hood and pulled the release lever. There was a couple wires laying in the driver’s seat and I snatched them up. I put one on the positive side of the coil and wired it to the battery, then used the other one to get power to the solenoid. The engine spun. It cranked for what seemed to be hours before starting, and when it started, white smoke billowed from the tailpipe. Casey used the last of her strength to get in the passenger door, and I got in and tried to turn the steering wheel. But there was steering lock! I gave it a firm twist, and with a loud pop, it spun. I slammed it into first, and the car gave a loud grinding protest. The low tires plopped as we raced through town, blowing through red lights. Since the glass was all broken, the tattered, peeling fabric of the roof slapped my face in the wind, and I tore it down and through it out of the car. “Hang in there, Casey, you’re gonna make it!” She was pale, and I knew that if I didn’t get her there soon, she wasn’t gonna make it. I looked up at a horrible sight- construction, and a traffic jam. But there was hope- a piece of metal propped up against a tube of some kind. I swerved to it, and construction workers waved frantically as I approached, then resigned to jumping out of my path. The car hit the metal with a thud, and I felt as we were lifted into the air. The tube rolled out from under the metal as we left it, and I looked down with wide eyes at the cars below us. I had that strange feeling of weightlessness, then the car went steadily downward and nearly destroyed itself upon landing. There was a terrible rattling from the front end, and steam billowed from the hood. The hospital was only two or three more blocks… The car suddenly wobbled. The steam from the engine began to obscure my vision, and I was dizzy, so dizzy. The big sign of the hospital came into view as the front left corner of the car dropped. I saw the tire bounce off the hood of a BMW and fly over pedestrians’ heads. The rotor made a hug grinding noise, and I used all my strength to keep the car on the road. Then the engine stalled. We slowed, and in a dreamlike state, I guided the car up onto the grass. I was aware of a spinning sensation, and when I looked up out of the windsheild, the emergency room doors were right in front of us. “We’re here, Casey. It’s all right.” Then the world went fuzzy, and the steering wheel came up and hit me in the face.

The Legendary Wolf Bane Eyes that was the name that changed my life forever so let me tell you my story that starts at the airport in the country of Canada where my family, which consisted of me my brother and my mother, moved to live a new life in the country were we felt safe in because of our relatives who lived there. Now as I said we were in the airport were we had just arrived and were waiting for our bags when suddenly the lights went out it looked at a power outage at first but a few people and me notice that there should at least be a small amount of light coming from outside the airport but when I looked out side the window it was as if there was a massive power outage that was all around the world as the only light we could use to see was the light of the moon. The staff rushed to get a few lanterns and flashlights that they kept at the basement while the security guards tried to calm down the people who were panicking as they found at that there was no light at all even outside the airport.

All the passengers in the planes were required to leave until power returned to the area but than it happened the start of the big change that was about to occur in my life, one of the planes exploded and burst into flames everyone was told to stick to the ground and take cover but after a few seconds the one to it’s right exploded in the same manner and it wasn’t long till the third exploded and before I knew it all the planes were in flame after the explosions stopped people started to take a look and started standing up as the relief of surviving those explosions clouded their thoughts and made them think they were safe but for some reason I was the only one who saw the big picture which was that all the planes were the same distance away from the airport and there was no danger at all as not even one window glass was shattered or at the least cracked in fact the only danger there was, was the danger of a group of screaming people.

At that I had my suspicions that the whole thing was just a staged act to impress the first time visitors but when the smoke cleared up I saw that the planes were completely destroyed with a big amount of pieces on the floor with smoke rushing out of each burnt piece and eventually darkening the sky and the thing that changed my mind was that all planes that exploded were not of the same company and so either it was all a big act by a really rich guy or something was definitely going down that all the people were blind to see. Suddenly we heard a very loud scream of many people coming from the place that the staff members went to get what we needed. The loud noise lasted for about ten seconds and when it was done there was a dead silence in the area. I had to go and check it out but my family didn’t let me leave so I had to stay put but I something supernatural was going on and I wasn’t going to stand around and wait for my death.

I noticed a slightly open door and saw a sign of stairs so I decided to go and try to find out what happened to the staff members. I snuck away from my family and carefully entered the door but after that I rushed to the stair case. Looking at the ceiling I quickly went down the first four steps but then as I expected to step on the fifth, there was nothing there and I was about to fall if I hadn’t hanged on to the fourth step with my hand. As I looked down I was shocked at what I saw and do you know what I saw nothing, nothing at all. My eyes opened wide the hole bottom section of the airport was gone and I could see the foundation or at least what was left of it. It’s hard to explain but it was like a piece of the airport was gone but not any piece it was like a spherical section was gone and where my hand was, was probably where the tip of the sphere was.

I pulled myself up but as soon as I made it to the platform that the stair was connected to I felt a stabbing pain in my eyes, it was like a thousand swords forced into each of my eyes at once. The pain kept increasing and the pain drove me to a point where I started screaming and punching walls, it was unbearable to open my eyes. Suddenly the pain stopped and my eyes felt normal again, hoping that I didn’t attract that much attention I headed back to my family although I was still unsure of what was happening. I couldn’t believe my eyes there was no one there not my family no one, I looked around quickly while my mind was trying to comprehend what happened but I saw no one.

My eyes fluttered open and immediately I sat upright. Like in my dream I wished I would begin to see a lavish pink canopy and a maid dressed in a ridiculous uniform,fakely smiling at me,and asking what it was that I wanted for breakfast. I would reply with “Whatever.” and roll over in the bed to get back to my rest. Unfortunately though,instead of the canopy, there were cracked ceilings to wake up too. As I got off the flimpsy mattress I slept on, I stepped on a brown bottle. It cracked under my weight. Cursing under my breath, I examined my foot to see if there was a cut. Before I got a chance to check though,the pain rippled through my foot. Blood oozed out of the broken flesh,
I stepped over the glass to turn on the lamp on my nightstand. From what little light the lamp provided, I discovered many more bottles were taking up space. The one nearest me said Bud Light and recognized that they all did.
Gosh,why didnt she do this in her own room,I thought to myself.
The clutter she had created in my room was quite awful; my mom’s dirty clothes from last night,a skimpy black halter top and a matching mini skirt. Beer stains were now in the carpet and on the once white walls.
I rolled my eyes and wiped my forehead, although there wasnt any sweat. I made my way to the bathroom. In the hallways,my mom’s drunken episode was evident here too. Ciagrette smoking hung faintly in the air and I was surprised I hadnt woken up to this during it all. But then again,I’d been too tired from work.
Twisiting the knob to cut on the shower,I caught my reflection in the large mirror. If it were anyone else,they would have jumped back and screamed in horror. This was a usual sight for me though.
My frame was was sort of built,with muscled arms. And if it werent for my long cinnamon colored hair, someone would easily mistaken me for a boy. I was tall like my dad and had bright emerald eyes like my mother. Well thats before she went crazy,and I have no idea why.
The reason I stuck by her was because I had faith she would change. My dad had taught me to never give up. But I always wondered why he had given up on her.

Puntaction and spelling and all that isnt correct so you dont have to comment. Im still working on the details and such. But do you like it?

And I’m not quite sure where I’m taking this but I do now that the girl in the story doesnt have her dad around and her mom is into drinking and smoking and she is never there for her. She is a really troubled teen and she has a little sister.
Thanks in advance
xox
God bless

It is a sort of prose-poetry thing, about the Greek Myth of Hades And Persephone. (You can wikipedia it, if you aren’t familiar.) It is kind of hard to explain. This is a fragment from a part where Persephone is having nightmares about Hades.

______________________________

She can’t escape him.

Because even when she dreams, it is nightmares of coal black horses. They trod over her and splinter her weak bones. One by one – she can feel it all ; trapezoid, scaphoid, pisiform carpals. Femur. Humeri. Sternum. And last to go – her 24 glittering ivory ribs that chatter loud against her pulse in a frenzied chorus.

snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap.

And there it is. Behold – her heart. Hot and beating, a tangle of blue-red veins that weep at the injustice of it. [but she can't help feeling guilty for not drinking all of her milk when her mother told her to]

And suddenly as they appeared, the horses have vanished. And in their place is Him. Hades. He stands before her like gentleman Death, staring at her and managing to seem both disgusted and amused at her state. She can imagine what she looks like. Roadkill.

He reaches over, gingerly plucking at her mangled frame with his fingers, a mess beaten into the ground. She can’t help but watch, she is rendered spineless. Literally.

So, she plays the part of a limpid saint, and prays to a God she doesn’t believe in whiel crossing her cracked chest. He watches with a bored fascination. She waits for oblivion, and oblivion apologizes because he won’t be able to make it today and maybe we should make a raincheck for never?

He doesn’t put her out of her misery. He doesn’t dramatically plunge a dagger into her chest while the cresendo swells and the audience dabs their eyes with rosy tissues – no no, instead, he keeps her. Like a sick experiment, he watches her. He lets her grow wings only so that he may clip them with sensory words scissory words. A caged girl.

She thinks she hears him speaking, but his mouth never seems to move. He hands her a crown made from melted down stars and silverware. He holds her up just so, just like a queen. Because that is what she is….

A queen of trashcans and rats and belladonna and weeping mothers and knots in your stomach and holes in your head and secondhand smoke and everything being taken for granted and rapists and carbon oxide and precious baby girls.

“Isn’t this the life?” He asks, his hands smeared with her.

____________________

What do you think? Is the style too weird?

okay so this is a story i am starting to write. I need some opinions.

Its about a 14 year old girl and her mom is an alcoholic.
here is what i have so far…

Poverty: the state or condition of having little or no money, goods, or means of support; conditions of being poor.

The dictionary definition of poverty, but I bet the people who made the dictionary have never had the feeling of poverty. Well, let me tell you, I have, big time.

I clutched my notebook tighter against my chest as the wind whirled around me. I was cold and I didn’t have any gloves to keep my hands warm as I tried to not let my book of secrets fly away with the wind. I had to get home, who knows what my mom will be like when she is drunk. She can either be cheery drunk or a mean one. Which every her mood was that morning it was completly opposite when she drunk, and this morning I didn’t know.

I walked up the stairs to our two bedroom apartment. Our neighbors, The Bali family, looked out there window to the street when we first pulled up in the parking lot. When I looked up at them, they were looking at our family size. Every new, crappy, place I move to its always only two bedrooms. That’s all my mother can afford and it’s no point in trying at school or anything because we move before the land lord needs money. Stay for 3 weeks, and were off in our car again. When we finally walked up the stairs, three flights, my mom sent Nathaniel and Remington to go get the rest of the bags. The Bali family came out and all greeted us with welcome and said that they would help us move in. my mom politely turned them down; she honestly was embarrassed what was in the boxes, alcohol. I saw the wife, Mrs. Jen Bali, glanced at my mother’s left hand. I saw, every so slightly a shake of her head. She was obviously disgusted. I never thought my mother not being married was a problem. Besides who would want to deal with a woman like my mother will all these kids? I quietly gestured my siblings to go inside. I started unpacking the boxes and Sage, who is twelve, started unpacking another box. Then I handed some objects to Remington, he is ten, and he put them on the few pieces of furniture that the land lord gave us. It was no use in unpacking all the bags when we would be gone again in three weeks or so.
“Remington, go put the cots in the bedroom.” I said as I looked at the door, afraid my mom would come in and I would be caught doing something wrong. Remington got one cot. It was about the size of a single bed. We only had three so we pushed them together and about four of us can fit, snug and tight, but we can still sleep. Then we take a pillow from the bed in the master bedroom and a blanket and we switch sleeping on the floor. We all switched, I was always the one who slept on the floor more often because my siblings didn’t need the aching back in the morning. My mother though, of course would never have one of the kids in her room. It would ruin her chances for a boyfriend who, maybe, just maybe, will be the one. Remington came back and grabbed the rest of the cots, when finally he moved the box labeled books and toys to our bedroom. I could see faintly that went to the wall opposite our beds. I finally looked at the apartment, the doors were cracking and the walls needed to be painted. It was pretty dirty and my mom’s cigarette smoke didn’t help. Oh, well, it will do for the short time we will be here. Nathaniel who is only five years old, and he still acts like a baby, held up his arms and I gently picked him up. I put him on my left hip as my mom was just about to blow smoke in his direction.
“Hello my baby Nathaniel.” My mom said as she stroked his cheek, then she looked at me. “Honey will you pour me a glass of wine.” When I gave her a look she said in a sweet voice she used for Nathaniel moments earlier. “Please, Ebony, I need one.” She said then she smiled as she put her cigarette back in her mouth. She took a long drag until she released the smoke in the packed apartment. I hesitated in getting her a glass of wanted she wanted. But, it was either now or her complaining and demanding me to get her one later. I put down Nathaniel on the raggedy couch and I put the TV on. I turned it to twenty-three, the nick J.R show. Nathaniel sat up immediately and clapped along with the other children on the show. Then, Mae came next to Nathaniel and pulled him in her lap. He looked so big next to Mae who was only eight. She laughed as Nathaniel tried to squirm away. I went into the kitchen where the tile looked like they needed a deep cleaning, this whole place needed a deep cleaning. I got a glass from the cabinet and poured my mom some wine. I filled it up so much it almost fell down the sides. I was about to take a sip so make it not so high, but I then looked at Mae and Nathaniel and instead I poured a little in the sink.
“Here, mom,” I said as I went and sat at the two-person table. Mom looked over at
sorry there is more….
Mom looked over at the table and then walked over, she had a cat like walk, all confident and you would never guess her secret. Not even if you had a million chances to get it right. A couple years ago, when my mom wasn’t drunk or hung over her skin was so healthy and her black hair was shiny too. Her waist was tiny for her age and she had no fat. I used to be jealous of my own mother, because even then, I didn’t like to think of her that way. I always though did have the thought of stealing a sip of whisky from the bottle or one beer. If this was gone, my mom would probably think she just drank it the night before. I did though, break my promise last year. I was thirteen and a half and one night, after the other kids were at school, even Nathaniel was in pre-k, I was taking care of my mom with one of her worst hang over. I putting a cold rag on her head and I saw the vodka bottle sitting on the floor. I picked it up; i took a swig.
by the way i am only 13 and i know it needs some buffing :)

Might not be better, but I tried. And FYI I’m only 16 myself. So don’t hate.. I’m not a pro.. haha.

Pulling the headphones out of my ears, I jammed my iPod into my backpack. Slouching low into my seat, I look down at my watch. We’ve still got an hour till landing. Two long hours.
I’m on an airplane on my way to Chicago. Long story. The flashback of that day smashed through my head. The day my fate was decided. I shut my eyes tight, trying not to think about it, but it wouldn’t leave my mind.
Funny story, actually. You see, one ordinary day I was at school. At free period I hung out with a couple of my friends, outside at the corner by the tree. The usual. But then, all of a sudden, Stephan pulled out some bottles of beer from his backpack and everybody started drinking. They then began to start bugging me.
“Come on, Alex, just a sip,” Stephan said. Stephan Vega was my best friend. He was tall and skinny, with messy dark hair.
“Yeah, it won’t kill you,” Roxy said, cracking open a second bottle. Another one of my good friends. My mom really hated Roxy, only because of her tight exposing cloths, bright red lipstick, and curly blonde hair. And not your average curls. Roxy’s curls were out of control.
“Just this once, Parker. You won’t regret it,” said Mike, who was sitting on the hood of his car, parked up right by the tree. Mike and I weren’t the best of friends, but he came in handy when I needed rides. He was also not someone my mother would approve of, mainly because he always smelled like smoke.
“No guys, I don’t drink,” I said. I grabbed my backpack, slid it over one shoulder and stood up. I started to walk off when they all started laughing, Stephan, Roxy, Mike and the other three kids that I wasn’t too familiar with. “Alexandria Parker, the toughest, roughest, most dare devilish girl in the whole school wimping out? This is too good!” I heard one of them call from behind. Thats when I had had it. I froze in my tracks, my teeth gritted. I turned around, marched back over to them and grabbed the bottle Stephan had in his hand, chugging down half of it.
“Thats what I’m talking about,” Stephan said, grinning. I clanked my bottle with Roxy’s and then drank some more. Stephan threw his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I smiled as I wiped my mouth with my black hoodie sleeve.
“WHAT IS GOING ON OVER HERE?!” Oh, shit. Slowly, I turned around to face Principal Howard, with his hands on his hips, his entire face bright red. “Drop the bottles and go to my office. NOW!” He shouted, spit spraying out of his mouth.
Later that afternoon, when my mother found out I was getting suspended for what I did, she totally freaked out on me. No shocker, of course.
“Alexandria Marie Parker, what the hell were you thinking?!” She screamed.
I sighed. “Peer pressure, mom.”
“You’re sixteen! How could you be drinking at sixteen?! For gods sake, Alex. What am I going to do with you? Where in the world did I ever go wrong?” Here we go.
Tears rolled down my mothers face. “Ever since your father died-”
“You have no idea what your talking about, Mom,” I shot, cutting her off. “It wasn’t anyones fault but my own.”
And thats when she started talking about Casey, my cousin, and my mothers favorite niece. Little Miss Perfect was getting straight A’s ever since she started at her new school. After hearing about how good Casey was doing in school, my mom decided that there was only one solution.
“I… I’m sending you over to Karen in Chicago,” She stammered.
Aunt Karen, my moms dear sister, and perfect Casey’s perfect mother.
“Mom! No.. you can’t make me!”
“Your friends here are way too much of a bad influence,” She said. When she saw my eyes turning red and watery, she softened up. “You’ll like Chicago. Karen’s new husband, John, is a great guy. He has a son about your age and twins. A boy and a girl. You’ll like them Alex, you really will.”
A tear rolled down my cheek.
“My decision is final. Your flights in two weeks, so start packing.” My mother blinked furiously, trying to force back the tears that were forming in her eyes.
So that’s that. Now it’s goodbye New York, hello Chicago.
I snapped back into reality when the flight attendance announced over the loud speaker that we would be landing in twenty minutes.
Sitting up straight, I wiped the tears from my eyes. This is it. I’m ready to ruin my life. Thanks a whole lot, Casey Johnson, for ruining my life. You’re the whole reason I’m here in the first place. You’ll pay, though. You will pay.

Wolf Bane Eyes

The Legendary Wolf Bane Eyes that was the name that changed my life forever so let me tell you my story that starts at the airport in the country of Canada where my family, which consisted of me my brother and my mother, moved to live a new life in the country were we felt safe in because of our relatives who lived there. Now as I said we were in the airport were we had just arrived and were waiting for our bags when suddenly the lights went out it looked at a power outage at first but a few people and me notice that there should at least be a small amount of light coming from outside the airport but when I looked out side the window it was as if there was a massive power outage that was all around the world as the only light we could use to see was the light of the moon. The staff rushed to get a few lanterns and flashlights that they kept at the basement while the security guards tried to calm down the people who were panicking as they found at that there was no light at all even outside the airport. All the passengers in the planes were required to leave until power returned to the area but than it happened the start of the big change that was about to occur in my life, one of the planes exploded and burst into flames everyone was told to stick to the ground and take cover but after a few seconds the one to it’s right exploded in the same manner and it wasn’t long till the third exploded and before I knew it all the planes were in flame after the explosions stopped people started to take a look and started standing up as the relief of surviving those explosions clouded their thoughts and made them think they were safe but for some reason I was the only one who saw the big picture which was that all the planes were the same distance away from the airport and there was no danger at all as not even one window glass was shattered or at the least cracked in fact the only danger there was, was the danger of a group of screaming people. At that I had my suspicions that the whole thing was just a staged act to impress the first time visitors but when the smoke cleared up I saw that the planes were completely destroyed with a big amount of pieces on the floor with smoke rushing out of each burnt piece and eventually darkening the sky and the thing that changed my mind was that all planes that exploded were not of the same company and so either it was all a big act by a really rich guy or something was definitely going down that all the people were blind to see. Then after everyone was up and anxiously waiting for something to happen it did and a group of three people came in crashing through the window, they were three average people wearing dark coats and a hat one seamed to be a women as I noticed her long hair which reached her waist as the other two looked like they were men but there was no way to be sure of my conclusion, each stood shoulder length apart the woman to the left and the two others to the right. “Where is he”, the one in the center asked in a whisper like voice that made me break out in goose bumps all over and as I stood and gazed in amazement I had this feeling in my gut that I was in danger and my stomach started aching to a point that caused me to collapse because of the pain

Now im only 17 and kinda new at writing but i had the sudden urge to write a book and well here it is.
feel free to make or change anything thats wrong and give me some ideas of what u would like to see happen =]

Chapter 1

Our tale begins one morning as a young boy ventures out hunting with his father on his 17th birthday. “Father what’s the matter? Can’t you keep up?” chuckled the boy, “Your getting to old father! Ha-ha” he shouted, panting slightly.
“I may be old Alakai and you may be faster but I have the wisdom!” his father shouted back.
“There is no wisdom needed to run father! I’ll get to the buck long before you!” shouted Alakai with a little laugh as he ran faster and faster jumping and dodging through the tall thick trees.
“What you don’t see is that your about to lose, son!” said his father with a sort of no-it-all grin.
“And whys that!” yelled Alakai having just been confused. As it seemed to be not yet one second after Alakai had answered he hit something with a giant THUD! He awoke with the pain of a thousand drums in his head. Alakai was a strong kid, with fair skin and a slim face. He had coarse, straight, dirty blonde hair and green eyes.
“See boy, I told you that you were going to lose he-he” chuckled his father as stood there staring down at Alakai.
“It feels like I’ve been kicked by a horse, did you catch the buck?” asked Alakai, slowly getting up holding his throbbing head.
“No son, it seems that giant red lump on your forehead must have scared it away” laughed his father.
“Oh ha-ha father, you have jokes don’t you” said Alakai. “Lets just get back home; mother will get worried if we don’t make it in time for breakfast”.
“Right you are son.” His father replied.
So they headed out back towards their farm. On the way, Alakai noticed how the woods were getting smaller and smaller, there were hardly any fine dark brown oak trees anymore, in fact they were the only trees left in his village. The king’s men had chopped the rest and burned them because of failure to pay for land. After a while of walking Alakai had a sort of chill flow down his spine, like a slow but fierce burst of cold wind blew past them and on through the woods brushing the leaves of the giant trees as it went by. Alakai decided to ignore it as he felt it was just a cold front coming down from the hills.
Soon enough they reached the opening of the woods where just beyond the sparkling duck ponds you could see their farm. Alakai was especially excited to get back seeing as he was starving for some food, and maybe also a present from his mother. As he and his father kept getting closer and closer to their cottage, Alakai noticed something strange… there was smoke pouring from the seals and cracks of the door and windows! In a burst of sprint, Alakai started running for the cottage only thinking of his mother’s safety.
“Alakai!! Where are you…?” His father yelled after him, only just realizing the smoke too, he chased after Alakai. “Alakai wait! It’s too dangerous! Let me handle this!” his father bellowed running right past him and into the burning house.
Alakai stood there watching and waiting, hoping that any minute his father and mother would run out of the house safely but as a couple minutes went by no one came out.
“FATHER!!” He screamed…but still no one came out. “MOTHER!!” he yelled again…still nothing. Then, with a sudden burst, his father came rushing out of the house carrying what looked like to be his mother.
Alakai stood there in shock only hoping his mother would be ok. His father placed his mother down on the grass which seemed to be covered in a thick layer of black ash. Alakai watched as his father tried to wake his mother but her eyes did not open, his father slowly stood up keeping his head down as if he had failed. He looked up at Alakai with a look Alakai had never seen before; it was of sadness and forgiveness. All of a sudden his father flinched and with a mere shudder spoke to his son,
“Alakai…run!” he muttered.
“Father… what’s wrong??” Alakai asked his father slowly walking towards him to see if he was alright. “Father! Tell me wha…”. But before he could finish his sentence his father collapsed face first into the black ashy grass leaving Alakai to see a single arrow stuck in his back.

There is a prologue and to get the whole plot of the story just say so and i’ll put that up too =]
also does anyone have a good idea for a name of this book?

I had other things to worry about, though. Like the fact that school would be starting in a half hour and I still wasn’t dressed. Moving quickly through the house I rushed to my room and burrowed into the huge pile of clothes planted in the center of my room. Shirts, Pants, and Jackets flew everywhere around me, all the while I couldn’t seem to find the one thing I was looking for. No, no, no! Sitting down on the floor, which was pretty much littered with my clothes, I groaned. Defeated. My eyes wondered around. Where on earth could it be? Then my eyes stopped at a dark piece of fabric sticking out from under the bed. I reached outward and grabbed it. Grinning to myself.
“Figures.” I took a quick shower and put on some clothes. Then went into the kitchen to find Dad reading a newspaper and Mom still in her robe, surprising. Gretchen really did shame Mom. Dad looked up from his newspaper and smiled. His glasses perched on his nose.
“Well, hey there kiddo. Surprised you got up early.”
“Early? School starts in twelve minutes.” Odd. When did I ever keep track over when school started.
“You got some time. Sit down have some breakfast.” I look at Mom then to Dad and sat down. Grabbing the glass of orange juice in front of me. It was so quiet, Mom looked so out of it as if she hadn’t sleep a wink (which she probably hadn’t) but taking a look at Dad you would’ve thought he won the lottery. Nothing seemed wrong with him. He looked so relaxed and delighted as he weaved through the Morning Funnies.

The drive to school relatively normal. Dad had the radio on the old rock and roll station while I stared outside the window. The butterflies reached my throat and I was on the verge of passing out.
“So, Dad…what’s up with Mom?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Oh, you know she’s depressed over Gretchen’s drunken binge. She won’t talk, she won’t eat, and she refuses to go to sleep. But I’m pretty sure if you talk to her when you get home, she’ll cheer up. Besides I think this is the best time for her to realize how great of a daughter you are.”
“Gee, Dad. I really don’t think that’s going to happen.”
He laughed. “Just give it a chance.” The car stopped and I cringed to find out that we were in front of R.C. Schenck. I grabbed my backpack and slung it around my shoulders I opened the door ready to get the day over with when Dad called me.
“Laura, don’t forget what I told you. And I hope to hear great things about your first day back. Oh, and tell Peggy I said hello.”
“Okay, bye Dad.”
“See ya later my little humming bird. No wait I mean-”
On a scale of 1 to 10 how would you rate my story?

Chapter 1

As the birds sing and the trees flowed in the wind, He ventured out hunting with his father on his 17th birthday. “Father what’s the matter? Can’t you keep up?” He chuckled, “Your getting to old father! Ha-ha” He shouted, panting slightly.
“I may be old Alakai and you may be faster but I have the wisdom!” his father shouted back.
“There is no wisdom needed to run father! I’ll get to the buck long before you!” He shouted with a little laugh as he ran faster and faster jumping and dodging through the tall thick trees.
“What you don’t see is that your about to lose, son!” said his father with a sort of know-it-all grin.
“And whys that!” He yelled having just been confused. As it seemed to be not yet one second after he had answered he hit something with a giant THUD! He awoke with the pain of a thousand drums in his head..
“See boy, I told you that you were going to lose” chuckled his father as stood there staring down at him.
“It feels like I’ve been kicked by a horse, did you catch the buck?” He asked, slowly getting up holding his throbbing head.
“No son, it seems that giant red lump on your forehead must have scared it away” laughed his father.
“Oh ha-ha father, you have jokes don’t you” He said. “Lets just get back home; mother will get worried if we don’t make it in time for breakfast”.
“Right you are son.” His father replied.
So they headed out back towards their farm. On the way, He noticed how the woods were getting smaller and smaller, there were hardly any fine dark brown oak trees anymore, and in fact, they were the only trees left in his village. The king’s men had chopped the rest and burned them because of failure to pay for land. After a while of walking he had a sort of chill flow down his spine, like a slow but fierce burst of cold wind blew past them and on through the woods brushing the leaves of the giant trees as it went by. He decided to ignore it as he felt it was just a cold front coming down from the hills.
Soon enough they reached the opening of the woods where just beyond the sparkling duck ponds you could see their farm. He was especially excited to get back seeing as he was starving for some food, and maybe also a present from his mother. As his father and he kept getting closer and closer to our cottage, He noticed something strange… there was smoke pouring from the seals and cracks of the door and windows! In a burst of sprint, He started running for the cottage only thinking of his mother’s safety.
“Alakai!! Where are you…?” His father yelled after him, only just realizing the smoke too, he chased after him. “Alakai wait! It’s too dangerous! Let me handle this!” his father bellowed running right past him and into the burning house.
He stood there watching and waiting, hoping that any minute his father and mother would run out of the house safely but as a couple minutes went by no one came out.
“FATHER!!” He screamed…but still no one came out. “MOTHER!!” He yelled again…still nothing. Then, with a sudden burst, his father came rushing out of the house carrying what looked like to be his mother.
He stood there in shock only hoping his mother would be ok. His father placed his mother down on the grass which seemed to be covered in a thick layer of black ash. He watched as his father tried to wake his mother but her eyes did not open, his father slowly stood up keeping his head down as if he had failed. He looked up at him with a look Alakai had never seen before; it was of sadness and forgiveness. All of a sudden his father flinched and with a mere shudder spoke to Alakai,
“Alakai…run!” he muttered.
“Father… what’s wrong??” Alakai asked his father slowly walking towards him to see if he was alright. “Father! Tell me wha…”. But before he could finish his sentence, his father collapsed face first into the black ashy grass. And it had been that day, that day, He saw his father and mother die right in front of his eyes was the day he became a man.. There was nothing he could do but stand there and stare in horror at the arrow sticking out of his father’s back and his mother on the ground beside him. He stood for what seemed like 5 hours but really it was only a mere second, then he ran, ran as fast and as stealthy as he could. He only had a chance to look behind, and when he did, He saw 3 black hooded figures running towards his cottage where his mother and father lay dead. He quickly made his way through the brush of the woods until he found a dark but quiet place to rest.

Chapter 2

He is a strong kid, with fair skin and a slim face. He has coarse, straight, dirty blonde hair and green eyes. He sat there staring at the ground, thinking to himself, why! Why couldn’t he have done something? As He was thinking he thought of how he would never see his mother or father again…He was alone is this world now, and were those things chasing after him? He kept staring at the ground but then noticed somethin