Hi guys,
Below is an intense scene set on top of a building from my Myth Project book; almost at the climax. It's quite dramatic, but I hope you like it.
Thanks
beasle95
As we burst onto the roof, a desperate feeling of horror flooded into my veins.
Blaze was standing so close to the edge of the building. There was no wall or fence to catch him if he fell backwards and tumbled off the top...
“Give it back!” Ryan yelled, pushing Blaze further towards the edge of the roof.
“Never!” Blaze yelled back, his hair whipping across his face.”I’ll never give it to you, even if it means that I die!”
My heart stuttered with each backwards step that he took and I shuddered as he came within a metre.
“Blaze, watch out!” I screamed and he stared at me in response. Ryan whipped around, apparently just aware of our presence.
“You can’t save him though, can you?” Ryan sneered in my direction. “It’s not as if you can lift him up again.” Did he know that I struggled to lift Blaze in particular, or just addressing me as if I couldn’t lift anything with my mind like everyone else? Surely he couldn’t know about us?
He turned back to Blaze. “You’ve got one more chance. Give. It. To me. Now!” Blaze still shook his head.
“Give it to him please!” I begged him, tears starting to stream down my face again. “We can get it back – but you can’t gamble with your own life. If you lose it, then you’ll never get it back!”
“And to achieve what? Waste all this time we’ve spent trying to get it back? I’m not going to let him get it, even if it means dying myself.”
“No!” I screamed, trying to run forward. Jake and Sam grabbed my arms and pulled me back again.
“You can’t do anything Rachel,” Jake yelled into the wind. My hair flew around my face and I struggled against them.
Suddenly Adam and Cara burst out of the fire exit behind us, both holding guns pointing straight at Ryan.
“Step away from Blaze!” Adam bellowed, his voice stolen away and echoing. In a movement quicker than I could follow, Ryan’s arm snapped up, also holding a gun.
Pointing at Blaze.
I trembled and struggled to stay upright. I couldn’t watch him shoot Blaze.
Sam’s voice flashed into my head. Calm down Rachel. Her voice was soothing and calming in my turmoil and panic.
I can’t, I whispered in my mind. Blaze can’t die...I choked back a sob and pushed my hair out of my eyes.
You need to concentrate, Sam’s voice drifted into my head again. Be ready for the unexpected.
I nodded in reply and felt the connection drop away – leaving my head free again.
I reached out in my mind to Blaze, who was still standing way to close to the edge. I focused entirely on him, forgetting my fear and my anger. I felt the cool emotion slip over my face as I steadied Blaze again. For the briefest of moments, his eyes flashed to mine as if he knew I was ready to help him. I stared back coolly, ready to push him forwards if he fell backwards off the roof.
“Step away from the edge!” Adam bellowed. “Move or I’ll shoot!”
“I’ve got nothing to lose.” Ryan’s hair moved in the wind, swirling back and forth as he glared coldly at Adam. “It makes no difference to me if he lives or dies – my men can pick him up at the bottom.”
Ryan pulled the trigger.
Blaze flashed up a shield super fast, but the movement knocked him backwards a little further. I panicked, confused by the sudden appearance of the shield. But Blaze’s shield wasn’t strong enough because he had been weakened so much from the hundreds of bullets earlier. The bullet clipped his shoulder and the shield dropped away. He teetered on the edge and his foot slipped.
Adam pulled the trigger and the bullet hit Ryan’s arm, making him fall to the ground in pain.
“NO!” I hissed through my teeth as Blaze fell over the edge.
“Rachel – you have to catch him!” Cara yelled and Ryan cackled like a madman in response.
“Blaze!” I screamed, running to the edge. I threw myself onto my front and looked down.
Concentrate you idiot! I yelled in my head and forced the cool concentration to fill my head once more. I instantly felt Blaze’s weight and grabbed at it.
Blaze froze in midair and his eyes flickered open in shock. My eyes bulged and cold sweat sprang across my forehead with the weight.
As carefully as I could, I slowly lifted Blaze up, centimetre by centimetre. My whole concentration and mind was focused on him, brining him closer and closer...
You cannot imagine how heavy he felt – like twenty cement trucks all hanging from one tiny thread. My feelings for him had gotten far too strong recently and I was suffering because of it. Stabs of pain shot through my head, getting worse the longer I held him. But I couldn’t let go – I just couldn’t. Blaze’s life literally depended on it.
“C’mon!” I hissed through my teeth which were clenched tightly closed in concentration. Blaze’s head was about a metre away now, but I couldn’t hold him any longer. My eyes watered and I was trembling all over with the exertion. I struggled to concentrate – it was a battle of wills.
“Take. Him Now!” I gasped as Blaze dropped a few centimetres. Sam and Cara were instantly by my side and reached down to take Blaze’s arm. They rolled onto their stomachs to stop themselves being pulled over the edge and wound Blaze upwards.
With the last of my strength, I gave Blaze one final push over the top and collapsed on the ground. My head pounded and swam with dizziness, so I shut my eyes tightly.
Jake gently pulled me away from the edge and I slowly crawled – I didn’t have the strength to stand.
There was a pile of crates about ten metres away and I made my way towards them at a snail’s pace. I turned my back towards the wood and slumped against them. I was so tired – all I wanted to do was sleep. But I had to make sure Blaze was alright first.
With a will power that nearly knocked me unconscious, I raised my head and looked over to Blaze. Adam was trying to get him to lie down and rest, but Blaze pushed past him and ran over to me. Instantly he swept me up in his arms and pulled me to him to tight I couldn’t breathe.
“How did you do that?” he asked, his grin literally reaching his ears.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. But even those three words were an immense effort to get out.
I slumped forwards and Blaze caught me just before I hit the ground. “Rachel?” His beautiful, worried face swam in front of my eyes, spinning round and round.
Feeling sick, I gently closed them and gratefully sank into the folds of unconsciousness.
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Friday, 8 October 2010
Seeker....Chapter 2
Hello guys...
Below is the second chapter of my 'Seeker' book (the one about Lauren, not Rachel). I hope you like it.
beasle95
Chapter 2
I barely slept at all that night, I just couldn’t switch off. My mind kept whirling in circles over what had happened, and what I had to do.
As soon as it was a reasonable time to get up I ran downstairs and ate my breakfast at top speed, and then upstairs to get ready. I jumped in the shower, needing to be quick, but the hot water soothed out all the knots in my back and helped me relax.
Unfortunately it ran out quickly and when I got out I was rushing again. I pulled on a t-shirt and combats and ran into my room again. I towelled my hair, but couldn’t be bothered to dry it properly so I dragged it back into a ponytail. Shoving my purse and keys and my phone into my backpack I ran down the stairs, two at a time. As I was pulling on my shoes, my mum walked into the room, still bleary eyed with sleep.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked, yawning. I cursed inwardly. I didn’t have time and had no idea how to explain. What could I say? That some crazy and potentially dangerous boy had called me last night and wanted me to pick some fairy tale book?
“Erm, I need to pop round to Emma’s to pick up some text books. She texted me this morning about some homework I didn’t know we had.” It wasn’t very convincing but it was all I could think of.
“But why are you going so early? It’s just gone eight,” Mum asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“Well, it’s a big history essay, and may take a while and I want to get it done before this afternoon.” Mum sighed and waved her arm dismissively.
“Fine,” she said as she turned round. “But don’t be long.” I didn’t intend to be.
I ran out of the house down to the bus stop just as a bus pulled in. I waved, and sighed, relieved when he door opened. I handed the driver my fare and asked if he could call my stop. He nodded, bored.
I sank down into one of the seats and rested my head against the window. What was I going to do when I found the journal? What if there was no journal and this was some kind of sick joke? But I knew deep down that it wasn’t a joke. The boy had been serious. I thought again how he’d said his dad had given him my mobile number to call in an emergency. If he thought he was going to die. I shuddered. Why would anyone want to kill a teenage boy? He said that if he told me this ‘secret’ then they would want to kill me too.
I was broken out of my thoughts when the bus driver called me for my stop. I got off the bus in a daze, and tried to work out where I was going. I mustn’t get lost, I told myself. I was hopeless with directions and was well known for going in the wrong way. I glanced up the road and saw that it led into the town centre. I supposed this was my best hope, and after a few minutes, saw to my relief the coffee shop the boy had told me about. Keeping my head down I walked up the road. I didn’t need to hide my face, but I had a bad feeling that something was going to happen, and didn’t want to recognised later.
I opened the door of the shop and sat in a booth in the far corner to wait. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Lauren Hayden?” a soft voice murmured my name. I jumped and looked up at the source. A teenage boy stood before me, about sixteen. His hair framed his face, falling down around his eyes. His olive skin was clear and the lines on his face were strong. He had a hood pulled up over his head and scruffy trainers and jeans on. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Yeah, are you...Ben?” I asked, feeling stupid.
He chuckled once under his breath. “Yes,” he said and sat down opposite me.
“I’m sorry for what happened last night – and I’m sorry for what I’m about to drag you into.” He glanced down at his hands, still not meeting my gaze. He rubbed his arm slightly and winced.
“What’s wrong?” I said. I now noticed that he had a pale parlour to his skin and was obviously in pain. “Was it what happened last night?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’ll all be over soon.” I started, confused at the certainty in his statement. It left me worried. Did he really think he was going to die soon?
“Anyway,” he said, slipping a backpack off his shoulder. “I wanted to give you these.” He pulled out a leather bound journal and small leather pouch, pulling a necklace from it.
“This,” he said “is an amulet. It explains about them in the journal, but I’ll tell you a bit about them. Inside is a powerful force. You can get it out when you are in trouble and it will help protect you. You must wear it so it can help you out.” I sighed, frustrated. Why wouldn’t he tell me exactly what these things did and give me a straight answer for anything? “And this is the journal you will find your answers in,” he said, handing me the journal. I tried to open it, but he placed his hand on mine, forcing me to close the book.
“Don’t you trust me?” I asked. He glanced up and stared me straight in the eye. Time froze for a few seconds. His eyes were so deep and mysterious, I got lost in them. They had seen much more than a normal teenage boy would have done. So many emotions flickered through them; amusement, anger but mostly fear. Fear was so intense that I gasped silently. I never knew such terror could be in a boy’s face – in any face. The determined eyes stared back then softened.
“I do trust you,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “I trust you with everything I have. That’s why I’m giving it to you. But there are people around who I don’t trust and I can’t risk overhearing.” I looked away, embarrassed. “I can’t let anyone else hear in case they report back to the organisation that wants to get rid of me. I can’t risk that happen Lauren, please trust me.”
“I do,” I said, and I meant it. Even though I’d only spoken over the phone with him for a few minutes and this was the first time I’d met him, I trusted him completely. It should be wrong, but it felt so right.
“Keep them safe. There are not many people out there you can trust, Lauren. There are people who may seem to be your friends, but not everyone is as they seem. They can hide behind secrets and lies and try to betray you. But you have to stay strong, and keep what I tell you safe.” He paused and looked me in the eye again. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” I dropped the journal into my bag and tied the amulet around my neck and followed him out the shop. We started to walk down the road when suddenly two men jumped out and dragged him into an ally.
“Gotcha!” one muttered triumphantly and grabbed the boy from behind. Ben lashed out at him but the man dodged and held him tight. Ben kicked him in the groin and the man fell to the ground, cursing. His friend ran and lashed out at Ben, his fist connecting with the boy’s jaw. Ben grunted and dropped to the ground, dazed. The men jumped on him in a second, pinning him down. One pulled out a radio and spoke quickly into it.
“Sir, we’ve got the boy cornered. Should we kill him now or bring him to you?” I was terrified; I couldn’t just stand there and let him be killed.
“No!” I screamed and threw myself on top of one of the men. “If you do, you have to get through me first!” I punched the man in the jaw, and he grunted, surprised. He lashed out and tried to hit me, but I ducked and kicked him in the shin. He shoved his arm out and hit me in the chest; throwing me against the back wall. I sat up, dazed. A crackled response came through the radio and the man brought out a gun. I stood up, about to throw myself at the man again.
“No!” Ben yelled. “No, Lauren! Get away! Get away and keep it safe! Don’t let them get to you!” I stared at him wildly, tears springing into my eyes. I was helpless. I couldn’t let him be killed, but I had to get away so the men wouldn’t get the journal or the amulet. I went to pull it out from around my neck, but Ben yelled at me.
“No! Lauren run! Get away from here!” he screamed at me and stared deep into my eyes again. Hot, angry tears rolled down my cheeks and a silent understanding passed between us. Thank you, GO! He mouthed, so I turned and backed slowly out of the alley and ran. I ran as fast as I could, away from the alley, away from the men. Away from Ben.
A single shot rang out from behind me but the silence that followed seemed so much louder.
Below is the second chapter of my 'Seeker' book (the one about Lauren, not Rachel). I hope you like it.
beasle95
Chapter 2
I barely slept at all that night, I just couldn’t switch off. My mind kept whirling in circles over what had happened, and what I had to do.
As soon as it was a reasonable time to get up I ran downstairs and ate my breakfast at top speed, and then upstairs to get ready. I jumped in the shower, needing to be quick, but the hot water soothed out all the knots in my back and helped me relax.
Unfortunately it ran out quickly and when I got out I was rushing again. I pulled on a t-shirt and combats and ran into my room again. I towelled my hair, but couldn’t be bothered to dry it properly so I dragged it back into a ponytail. Shoving my purse and keys and my phone into my backpack I ran down the stairs, two at a time. As I was pulling on my shoes, my mum walked into the room, still bleary eyed with sleep.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked, yawning. I cursed inwardly. I didn’t have time and had no idea how to explain. What could I say? That some crazy and potentially dangerous boy had called me last night and wanted me to pick some fairy tale book?
“Erm, I need to pop round to Emma’s to pick up some text books. She texted me this morning about some homework I didn’t know we had.” It wasn’t very convincing but it was all I could think of.
“But why are you going so early? It’s just gone eight,” Mum asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“Well, it’s a big history essay, and may take a while and I want to get it done before this afternoon.” Mum sighed and waved her arm dismissively.
“Fine,” she said as she turned round. “But don’t be long.” I didn’t intend to be.
I ran out of the house down to the bus stop just as a bus pulled in. I waved, and sighed, relieved when he door opened. I handed the driver my fare and asked if he could call my stop. He nodded, bored.
I sank down into one of the seats and rested my head against the window. What was I going to do when I found the journal? What if there was no journal and this was some kind of sick joke? But I knew deep down that it wasn’t a joke. The boy had been serious. I thought again how he’d said his dad had given him my mobile number to call in an emergency. If he thought he was going to die. I shuddered. Why would anyone want to kill a teenage boy? He said that if he told me this ‘secret’ then they would want to kill me too.
I was broken out of my thoughts when the bus driver called me for my stop. I got off the bus in a daze, and tried to work out where I was going. I mustn’t get lost, I told myself. I was hopeless with directions and was well known for going in the wrong way. I glanced up the road and saw that it led into the town centre. I supposed this was my best hope, and after a few minutes, saw to my relief the coffee shop the boy had told me about. Keeping my head down I walked up the road. I didn’t need to hide my face, but I had a bad feeling that something was going to happen, and didn’t want to recognised later.
I opened the door of the shop and sat in a booth in the far corner to wait. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Lauren Hayden?” a soft voice murmured my name. I jumped and looked up at the source. A teenage boy stood before me, about sixteen. His hair framed his face, falling down around his eyes. His olive skin was clear and the lines on his face were strong. He had a hood pulled up over his head and scruffy trainers and jeans on. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Yeah, are you...Ben?” I asked, feeling stupid.
He chuckled once under his breath. “Yes,” he said and sat down opposite me.
“I’m sorry for what happened last night – and I’m sorry for what I’m about to drag you into.” He glanced down at his hands, still not meeting my gaze. He rubbed his arm slightly and winced.
“What’s wrong?” I said. I now noticed that he had a pale parlour to his skin and was obviously in pain. “Was it what happened last night?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’ll all be over soon.” I started, confused at the certainty in his statement. It left me worried. Did he really think he was going to die soon?
“Anyway,” he said, slipping a backpack off his shoulder. “I wanted to give you these.” He pulled out a leather bound journal and small leather pouch, pulling a necklace from it.
“This,” he said “is an amulet. It explains about them in the journal, but I’ll tell you a bit about them. Inside is a powerful force. You can get it out when you are in trouble and it will help protect you. You must wear it so it can help you out.” I sighed, frustrated. Why wouldn’t he tell me exactly what these things did and give me a straight answer for anything? “And this is the journal you will find your answers in,” he said, handing me the journal. I tried to open it, but he placed his hand on mine, forcing me to close the book.
“Don’t you trust me?” I asked. He glanced up and stared me straight in the eye. Time froze for a few seconds. His eyes were so deep and mysterious, I got lost in them. They had seen much more than a normal teenage boy would have done. So many emotions flickered through them; amusement, anger but mostly fear. Fear was so intense that I gasped silently. I never knew such terror could be in a boy’s face – in any face. The determined eyes stared back then softened.
“I do trust you,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “I trust you with everything I have. That’s why I’m giving it to you. But there are people around who I don’t trust and I can’t risk overhearing.” I looked away, embarrassed. “I can’t let anyone else hear in case they report back to the organisation that wants to get rid of me. I can’t risk that happen Lauren, please trust me.”
“I do,” I said, and I meant it. Even though I’d only spoken over the phone with him for a few minutes and this was the first time I’d met him, I trusted him completely. It should be wrong, but it felt so right.
“Keep them safe. There are not many people out there you can trust, Lauren. There are people who may seem to be your friends, but not everyone is as they seem. They can hide behind secrets and lies and try to betray you. But you have to stay strong, and keep what I tell you safe.” He paused and looked me in the eye again. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” I dropped the journal into my bag and tied the amulet around my neck and followed him out the shop. We started to walk down the road when suddenly two men jumped out and dragged him into an ally.
“Gotcha!” one muttered triumphantly and grabbed the boy from behind. Ben lashed out at him but the man dodged and held him tight. Ben kicked him in the groin and the man fell to the ground, cursing. His friend ran and lashed out at Ben, his fist connecting with the boy’s jaw. Ben grunted and dropped to the ground, dazed. The men jumped on him in a second, pinning him down. One pulled out a radio and spoke quickly into it.
“Sir, we’ve got the boy cornered. Should we kill him now or bring him to you?” I was terrified; I couldn’t just stand there and let him be killed.
“No!” I screamed and threw myself on top of one of the men. “If you do, you have to get through me first!” I punched the man in the jaw, and he grunted, surprised. He lashed out and tried to hit me, but I ducked and kicked him in the shin. He shoved his arm out and hit me in the chest; throwing me against the back wall. I sat up, dazed. A crackled response came through the radio and the man brought out a gun. I stood up, about to throw myself at the man again.
“No!” Ben yelled. “No, Lauren! Get away! Get away and keep it safe! Don’t let them get to you!” I stared at him wildly, tears springing into my eyes. I was helpless. I couldn’t let him be killed, but I had to get away so the men wouldn’t get the journal or the amulet. I went to pull it out from around my neck, but Ben yelled at me.
“No! Lauren run! Get away from here!” he screamed at me and stared deep into my eyes again. Hot, angry tears rolled down my cheeks and a silent understanding passed between us. Thank you, GO! He mouthed, so I turned and backed slowly out of the alley and ran. I ran as fast as I could, away from the alley, away from the men. Away from Ben.
A single shot rang out from behind me but the silence that followed seemed so much louder.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Review...
Hi people,
For my latest english coursework, we had to write a review for a film we had made up. So I decided to pretend that my book 'The Myth Project' had been made into a movie and what I would have thought of it if it had been. So I'm going to share it with you to show off my writing skills...lol...
Tell me what you think!
Thanks!
beasle95
Plot
Rachel Forester (Alexandra Daddario) is startled to discover after meeting Blaze Roberts (Logan Lerman) that she has the power of telekinesis and is recruited alongside her best friend Sam Freeman (Tahlula Monticelli) into a top-secret government organisation to defeat crime.
Review
With this kind of movie, whispering starts early, fervent fans (mis)reporting every little leak. For those net-heads who stopped to listen, the early buzz on Christopher Columbus’s adaptation of the bestselling start to the series The Myth Project was poor.
Thankfully it’s time for the rumour-mongers to gracefully retire. The finished film is in, and – whisper it – it’s not bad. Better than that, The Myth Project is actually pretty darn good. And, in a summer so far short of a real spectacle, that’s near enough a miracle.
This energetic home-grown adventure based on the first of Bethan White’s teen novels has an easy pitch: ordinary girl discovers she has an extraordinary unknown power, meets mysterious boy and the become the young James-Bonds of their generation to defeat the bad guys...Thus right there in its creative DNA is a huge task.
Daddario’s Rachel Forester is very much the focal point and the beautiful and charismatic American conveys Rachel’s growing weakness and confusion into strength and confidence about her shadowy past and disaster-filled future with surprisingly convincing ease. Yet she’s aptly supported by the likes of Logan Lerman, subtly portraying Blaze’s struggle between keeping a low profile and protecting his new romantic interest; Alex Pettyfer having all sorts of fun as the beefed up and witty role of Jake and old stagers Christian Bale and Christopher Lee. The newcomers to the film business don’t disappoint either. Tahlula Monticelli is all rebellious chick as the supportive and fiery best friend and Tabrett Bethall, the feisty and dangerous leader of the project who is not to be messed with.
The Myth Project is also possessed of an emotional complexity that won’t surprise book fans, but will delight connoisseurs of the summer blockbuster. The film wears its heart on its sleeve, be it Rachel’s anguished search through her past and precarious future, the poignant sequence in which Rachel ‘comes out’ to her father or Keller’s corrupting influence on the group. The plot, in which a delusional man threatens to inflict a global terror is frighteningly topical and Columbus doesn’t flinch from showing that resolution often comes at a bitter price.
Yet it’s not all FX-augmented naval-gazing. Though it gets very dark, The Myth Project is unashamedly entertaining, with crowd pleasing moments for geeks (the appearance of floating objects and Rachel’s surreal power should benefit upholsters everywhere) and non-geeks (a desperate attempt to save Blaze’s life on the top of a skyscraper is exhilarating) alike.
There are problems – the third acts sags a little under the sheer weight of storylines; while some of the expositional dialogue is a little heavy. However, this thought-provoking, scintillating and stylish flick has opened the summer of superheroes in fine style. The Matrix Reloaded may have better effects and Inception may be more eye-catching, but as an overall package, The Myth Project is going to be hard to top.
For my latest english coursework, we had to write a review for a film we had made up. So I decided to pretend that my book 'The Myth Project' had been made into a movie and what I would have thought of it if it had been. So I'm going to share it with you to show off my writing skills...lol...
Tell me what you think!
Thanks!
beasle95
Plot
Rachel Forester (Alexandra Daddario) is startled to discover after meeting Blaze Roberts (Logan Lerman) that she has the power of telekinesis and is recruited alongside her best friend Sam Freeman (Tahlula Monticelli) into a top-secret government organisation to defeat crime.
Review
With this kind of movie, whispering starts early, fervent fans (mis)reporting every little leak. For those net-heads who stopped to listen, the early buzz on Christopher Columbus’s adaptation of the bestselling start to the series The Myth Project was poor.
Thankfully it’s time for the rumour-mongers to gracefully retire. The finished film is in, and – whisper it – it’s not bad. Better than that, The Myth Project is actually pretty darn good. And, in a summer so far short of a real spectacle, that’s near enough a miracle.
This energetic home-grown adventure based on the first of Bethan White’s teen novels has an easy pitch: ordinary girl discovers she has an extraordinary unknown power, meets mysterious boy and the become the young James-Bonds of their generation to defeat the bad guys...Thus right there in its creative DNA is a huge task.
Daddario’s Rachel Forester is very much the focal point and the beautiful and charismatic American conveys Rachel’s growing weakness and confusion into strength and confidence about her shadowy past and disaster-filled future with surprisingly convincing ease. Yet she’s aptly supported by the likes of Logan Lerman, subtly portraying Blaze’s struggle between keeping a low profile and protecting his new romantic interest; Alex Pettyfer having all sorts of fun as the beefed up and witty role of Jake and old stagers Christian Bale and Christopher Lee. The newcomers to the film business don’t disappoint either. Tahlula Monticelli is all rebellious chick as the supportive and fiery best friend and Tabrett Bethall, the feisty and dangerous leader of the project who is not to be messed with.
The Myth Project is also possessed of an emotional complexity that won’t surprise book fans, but will delight connoisseurs of the summer blockbuster. The film wears its heart on its sleeve, be it Rachel’s anguished search through her past and precarious future, the poignant sequence in which Rachel ‘comes out’ to her father or Keller’s corrupting influence on the group. The plot, in which a delusional man threatens to inflict a global terror is frighteningly topical and Columbus doesn’t flinch from showing that resolution often comes at a bitter price.
Yet it’s not all FX-augmented naval-gazing. Though it gets very dark, The Myth Project is unashamedly entertaining, with crowd pleasing moments for geeks (the appearance of floating objects and Rachel’s surreal power should benefit upholsters everywhere) and non-geeks (a desperate attempt to save Blaze’s life on the top of a skyscraper is exhilarating) alike.
There are problems – the third acts sags a little under the sheer weight of storylines; while some of the expositional dialogue is a little heavy. However, this thought-provoking, scintillating and stylish flick has opened the summer of superheroes in fine style. The Matrix Reloaded may have better effects and Inception may be more eye-catching, but as an overall package, The Myth Project is going to be hard to top.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Fire
Heya guys,
I'm going to post a little thing I wrote while I was on holiday. It uses the characters from my book 'The Myth Project' (well the main character) and is based on that storyline.
The main character Rachel has the power of telekinesis, which means she can move things with her mind. She has made many enemies during her time of working with the Myth Project and in this extract, she meets a new one
I know it is long, but I hope you like it.
Love beasle95 x :)
I looked up, my hair falling across my face.
He was watching me again; I could feel it. Flicking my hair out of my eyes, I looked up at the man.
He was holding up a newspaper – The Times – supposedly reading some of the latest sport headlines. But I could see his eyes peering over the top of the pages, zoning onto me. I cleared my throat and threw a pointed glance in his direction. The man coughed too and shook his papers, holding them up a bit so I could no longer see his face.
Turning my back on him, I grabbed some more books and headed over to shelf ‘R’. Quickly finding the right placement for the book, I groaned inwardly at the surnames of the next three authors of the books in my hands. ‘Fleming’, ‘Dickens’ and ‘Ackerman’. All in the same area. All within a few feet of the man.
Over by the M’s to Z’s I was safely out of sight. But the earlier letters were right near him and I was feeling more than uncomfortable by his presence.
I had filed a book under Dickens before and two under Fleming as well, so I could put the books straight on the shelves and walk away again. But the place for the book by ‘Alice Ackerman’ was taking me ages to find. My eyes scanned the shelves again and again, trying to find the exact place to put the book. My fingers twitched as I got more and more agitated. My side burned under the man’s gaze until I thought I might explode with tension. I was so scared that I could feel my control over my powers slipping. The recent months had proved to me that keeping control wasn’t easy at all.
I saw two leaflets flutter slightly, but they were sitting right by an open window, so I hoped that no-one would take any notice of their movement.
Breathing out a sigh, I at last found the location for the book and placed it on the shelf. It took so much will and self control to calmly stroll across the room to the trolley which was out of sight instead of sprinting there like Usain Bolt.
When at last I got behind the shelf out of sight, my shoulders sagged and I exhaled heavily. David walked up beside me, his face kind and smiling, holding a pile of books.
“You alright Rachel?” he asked sympathetically. “You don’t look very happy.”
I shook my head. “I’m not – that crazy man over there keeps staring at me and it’s freaking me out!” I ran my hand through my hair. “I just don’t want to be rude by saying anything, but it really is making me feel uncomfortable.”
David frowned and peered around the bookshelves. “Grey hair and stubble, black t-shirt with the newspaper?” he asked, turning back and I nodded. “I’ll go and have a word with him then.” David said and I threw him a grateful smile.
“Thanks.”
I hid behind the bookshelf and watched through the gaps between the books. David approached the man by walking casually across the room. The man stared over the top of his newspaper to where I was hiding. I flinched back, feeling his gaze burn my face.
“Hello sir,” I heard David say quietly to the man. Turning back around, I peered through the books again so I could see them both.
“Alrigh’?” The man replied, flashing two blackened teeth at the front of his mouth. I grimaced, imagining the smell from them – they must be rotten.
“You are making some of our employees feel uncomfortable with your...staring.” David stumbled over the last word but kept his tone polite. “Would you mind...not staring or I will have to ask you to leave the building.
The man frowned – his eyebrows knitting together and his face crinkled. “I ‘aven’t been starin’” he stated angrily.
“Mr...?” David asked and the man shook his head.
“I ain’t tellin’ you ma name mista!” The man growled and got to his feet. David held his hands up.
“Well then that’s fine sir. I just wanted t make that issue clear.” The man glared and sat back down again.
“Good. Glad there ain’t any more problems.” He rustled his paper indignantly and started reading again. David walked back over to me.
“Sorry Rachel.” He frowned. “I’d just stay away from him from now on. You get all sorts of people coming in here.” I nodded and thanked him again gratefully. David smiled and walked off to continue stacking books.
I was very selective about the books that I chose to stack for the rest of the hour. Anything before M in the alphabet didn’t come into my hands so I wouldn’t have to go near the man again. I could still feel his gaze on me for a while, but after 40 minutes, I looked over to the chair where he had been sitting and saw that he was gone.
After and amusing lunch where David and Ross had been doing impressions of Catherine Tate characters, I looked at my timetable and saw that I was scheduled to do shelf checks for an hour that afternoon. It wasn’t one of my favourite parts of the job, but I had to do everything I could.
I started off in the main section of the library, searching for books on musical history, biographies, baby names and children’s novels. I was very selective and quite tedious.
After 20 minutes of my endless searching, Gemma approached me. “Hi Rachel, have you seen David anywhere? He’s supposed to be helping me upstairs and I haven’t seen him since lunch time.”
I frowned. “What was he supposed to be doing now?” I asked.
Gemma answered almost instantly. “Shelf checks, like you.”
I nodded. “Well he might be in the basement. Some of the older books are down there right?” Gemma nodded and smiled.
“He’s probably down there. Could you please do me a massive favour and check if he is down there? I’ve got a ton of work to do upstairs and I shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Sure,” I nodded and put my pen and clipboard on the counter.
Walking across the library, I headed for the staff door and typed in the code, shielding the buttons with my body. Even though there wasn’t anything particularly important in this section, I still felt nervous about anyone seeing. Then they would have access to everything out back.
Door unlocked and opened, I walked through, making sure the door shut behind me. Typing in the code for the next door, I strode quickly down the stairs to the basement, passing the staff kitchen and meeting room on my way.
The basement was really dark as I walked into it. It was full of hundreds of records over the last century or so. Documents, newspapers and priceless books that were full of wear and memories. To some people, this stuff was just overdue rubbish but there was so much information and value despite the age of it all.
I grimaced at the cobwebs which hung from the ceiling, mixing with the shadows to create spooky patterns in the dim light. One of the bulbs flickered ominously and I shivered. It was cold down here. The place reminded me of running through the tunnel-like corridors in Keller’s headquarters – desperately trying so search for a way out.
“David?” I called and my voice echoed, resounding of the walls. “David are you down here?” I called again, my voice catching in my throat. I coughed and then swallowed. But I got no answer. I guess that I’d have to keep looking.
I wandered through the shelves, packed to bursting with old papers. I brushed my fingers gently over them, feeling the ancient paper skim my fingertips.
“David? Hello – are you down here?” I called again and again, but I still got no answer. I was deep in the basement now and there wasn’t much light at all.
Suddenly I heard a crash from somewhere off to my right. I froze, terrified and my eyes widened. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure that it would be a beacon to my whereabouts.
“David – is that you?” My voice sounded hoarse and I cleared my throat again. All the stupid dust was clogging up my lungs. I started walking again, each step noisily echoing off the walls. I tried to walk more quietly, but I was too scared now.
David could be anywhere down here – it was probably just some rats or something. I hoped the ‘or something’ wasn’t an option, or at least, better than rats.
I looped back around and started walking back towards the entrance. A sound of muffled shuffling and grunting suddenly reached my ears and I stopped again, listening. My eyes roamed around the dark room, picking out the details from the shadows of the shelves.
“David?” I whispered, too scared to shout. I heard a muffled shuffling again and warily stepped forwards towards the place where I thought the sound was coming from.
I wandered through the shelves, searching. My heard was pounding inside my chest and the sound filled my ears, making it difficult to hear anything else.
As I turned the next corner, I gasped. David was on the floor, his hands and feet bound and a gag in his mouth. I rushed over to his side and immediately started undoing the knot in the cloth in his mouth. After a minute, I managed to pull it free.
“What happened to you?” I gasped, undoing his hands.
“That stupid man who was staring at you earlier tied me up. He told me he had a job to finish and that I was getting in his way. He knocked me out and tied me up. I’ve only just woken up to be honest – I heard you calling.” I shook my head in disbelief and pulled back David’s hair off of his forehead. Sure enough, there was a large welt there. The skin had split and there was blood crusted around the edges.
“Is the man still here?” I asked, working the knot in the rope lose again.
David shrugged. “I’m not sure. I heard a crash a few minutes ago, but I thought it was you.” I froze, my hands hovering over David’s.
“It wasn’t me. I thought it was you.” Realisation dawned on both of us and my blood turned cold, goosebumps shooting across my skin.
“Let’s get you out of here quickly.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say and furiously continued unpicking the tight knots. My fingers ached and were rubbed red raw from the tough rope.
David sniffed and then frowned. “Can you smell that?” he asked, his eyebrows knotting together.
“What?” I replied absentmindedly. I was busy concentrating on the rope.
“That...burning...” David said slowly and my eyes shot up to meet his. I sniffed and sure enough I could smell the mild, but distinctive smell of smoke.
I worked even more quickly and with more desperation to unknot David’s hands and at last managed to do it. We started working on his feet together when suddenly there was a whoosh from behind me. We both jumped and I whirled around to stare at the bookshelves.
About three rows away from where we were sitting, a large tongue of flame shot towards the ceiling and crackled.
“Go and get an extinguisher! Set the alarm off!” David yelled, taking over from my sore hands. I nodded and scrambled to my feet. Running forward, I dodged past two shelves and around the next corner.
The flames were spreading fast; down here was the perfect place. It was dry and cool normally with a little bit of ventilation from the ceiling so the fire had no trouble setting alight the crisp paper. Three bookshelves were alight already and the flames were licking at a forth. My eyes darted back and forth as I ran from the fire, desperately trying to find an alarm or extinguisher. But I could find nothing.
The air was filling with smoke and I coughed loudly, trying to clear my lungs. My eyes watered and I wished that there was a window or something to get some clean air in here.
I skidded around the next corner and groaned. Where the fire extinguisher had once been, was an empty bracket on the wall. I couldn’t see a point to set off the alarm, but I was sure that it would go off in any second anyway. Rushing as fast as I could, I made my way back to David who was still working furiously on his bonds.
“I can’t find anything,” I choked. “He’s taken the fire extinguisher.”
“Ok, don’t panic,” David said reassuringly. “Can you help me with these ropes again?” I nodded and got to work.
Suddenly David’s eyes widened. “Rachel!” he called out in warning, but it was too late. I twisted around to see what he was warning me about just as a large metal pole was slammed into my shoulder. I gasped and rolled away, springing to my feet.
The man was standing there panting; the pole in one hand. His face was dirty from the ash and he was sweating profusely.
“Who are you?” I demanded, trying not to inhale the smoke.
“My name is not important Rachel,” the man said. “But I work for an old...friend of yours.”
“Who?” I asked, taken aback by the man’s casual use of my name and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling this created.
“Russell Keller.” His lips parted in a grimace – a pathetic attempt at a smile and revealed his foul blackened teeth. I shuddered and resisted the urge to look away – he might attack me again and I needed to be ready.
“Why has he sent you?” I asked just as David demanded:
“Who the heck is Keller?” I ignored him.
“What’s he told you to do then? Murder? Torture? Kidnapping? Am I being taken to see him face to face?”
The man didn’t reply, but instead lunged forward and grabbed my arm. Twisting my wrist, I tried to get away but his grip was like iron – it was almost impossible to escape.
Almost.
The man was still holding onto the metal pole that he had used to hit me with earlier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lift it up, ready to hit me again.
But to his surprise, the pole suddenly decided that it didn’t want to hit me, but it wanted to be free.
Spinning around, the pole whirled out of the man’s hand so fast I thought I heard it dislocate. I grimaced as he yelled in pain and automatically let go of me to hold his wrist. I twisted away and then spun around on one foot, bringing it up to kick the man in the stomach. His breath was forced out of his lungs and he doubled over, griping his middle and holding his hand into his body to protect it. I followed through with a sharp chop to the back of his neck and he dropped to the ground and lay still.
I rushed over to David who was gaping madly – eyes as wide as saucers and his jaw slack. “What the heck just happened?” he choked, partly through disbelief and partly because of the thickening smoke.
“Doesn’t matter – we need to get out of here!” I yelled over the noise of the fire. It crackled and popped and the flames had reached the ceiling now. And they were spreading fast.
At last I managed to undo David’s feet and the rope fell away.
Grabbing my hand, David pulled himself to his feet and we both started coughing. My eyes were watering so much now, I could hardly see.
“Help me with him,” I choked and a ragged cough cut through my lungs. But with each cough, I was inhaling more smoke so it only made me cough more. David grabbed one of the man’s arms and slung it across his shoulders. I did the same on the other side and together we half carried, half dragged the unconscious man towards the exit.
“I can’t believe you knocked him out!” David kept saying, the words gushing out of his mouth and flowing into each other. “You didn’t even hit him much and he dropped like a ton of bricks!” David shot me a questioning look. “What does he want anyway? And who is this Keller guy you were both talking about?”
I desperately evaded his questions. “I’ll answer them later David – we need to get out of here!” David nodded determinedly – I think he was in shock or something.
The flames had caught the wooden supports on the ceilings which were now glowing a deep red.
“Look out!” I gasped, automatically pulling myself backwards. David, taken by surprise stumbled a few steps forward and fell down. But the man fell backwards on top of me, his dead weight heavy. I gasped and pushed him off myself. A 6 foot long wooden support post had dropped down from the ceiling, smouldering and crackling manically, landing on the ground separation David from the man and I.
“Are you alright Rachel?” David called, desperately trying to bat out the flames on the log.
“I’m ok!” I called back and tried to get to my feet. But to my surprise and horror, a bolt of pain shot up my leg. I cried out and fell back down again, catching myself just in time.
“I think I’ve sprained my ankle!” I called to David, who was looking desperately from side to side.
“I can’t get round to you!” David yelled, fear written all over his face. “The log’s blocked the path completely.” Sure enough, as I looked up, I noticed that at this point in the basement, it had narrowed into a corridor, one bookshelf on each side lining the walls. But where the log had caught fire, it had fallen right across the gap where we were supposed to walk through. Which meant our only way of escape had been blocked. Panic gripped my heart, but I tried to stay calm.
“Run David! Set the alarm off and get the fire brigade here now! Get everyone else out of the building!”
“I can’t...” David started, but I yelled.
“GO!” And he ran away.
I slumped on the ground, unsure what to do. I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. The smoke seemed to be thickening by the second.
I thought I should try and move the log out of the way – see if I could create a gap big enough to crawl through. I concentrated really hard on the log, feeling the substance and heat of it in my head. Very slowly, I tried to move it to one side, twisting it so that it ran the length of the corridor rather than the width. My breathing became more and more ragged until I thought I might pass out. And the log had barely moved a few centimetres. I guessed that I would have to wait for the fire brigade to rescue me instead.
I decided that I probably needed to find a more sheltered place to wait and hide under to protect me from the flames. I stared indecisively at the man. The flames on the log were licking at his feet and I knew that they would catch him if he wasn’t moved.
Crawling forward, I gripped his arms and dragged him and myself backwards; away from the flaming log. Unfortunately, for a while at least it meant that we had to travel past the larger fire. I could barely breathe at all now and I couldn’t concentrate long enough to use my mind to lift the man up. So I had to use the old fashioned method of dragging him with my hands. It was really hard work and by the time we were in a more sheltered and safer spot, I was ready to pass out.
The whole room apart from our little area was alight now and I could barely see anything through the thick black smoke.
I vaguely remembered that I should cover my mouth with a piece of damp cloth to stop myself inhaling so much of the smoke. But there was nothing damp in here anymore apart from the sweat the was running off of my skin from the intense heat. I ripped the bottom of my shirt so I had a strip of material and held it over my mouth and then curled into a ball.
I hoped that the fire engines would get here soon – I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take this heat. My skin was blistering and the hair was being singed off of my arms. My ankle was throbbing from where I had fallen earlier. I lay my head down on my arm, my face turned away from the fire.
Suddenly I heard movement from behind me – not the movement of the fire’s destruction, but something else. Something big and heavy. I summoned some of my rapidly declining energy to lift my head.
And gasped with amazement and horror.
The man – the man who had stared at me; the man who had tied David up and set fire to the basement; the man who had been unconscious...was now awake and standing in front of me.
With a gun in his hand. Pointing at me.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered my voice hoarse from the smoke. The man’s bright yet freezing eyes bored down into mine. They were the coldest things in the whole room.
“Because I was paid to,” he replied. His skin was bright red and blistered badly on one side from the heat of the flames. I hoped my own wasn’t half as bad.
“But...why...” I couldn’t speak anymore. My throat was too full of smoke.
“But I have one question for you Rachel,” the man said and I nodded, indicating that he should continue. “Why did you pull me from the flames, when I’m the one who started it and hurt you?”
I pushed myself up with one arm and sat up. “’Cause,” I choked, pulling the cloth away from my mouth. “...’cause I think...people can change...” I coughed, my whole body convulsing with the movement. “...even...stupid criminals...don’t deserve...to die...like this.” I sucked in a deep breath, but it gave no relief to the burning in my chest. “So...I thought you...should have a...chance to...change...”
The man started at me, shock and disbelief written all over his face. His hand holding the gun shook and he lowered it.
“I can’t kill you now,” he muttered half to himself. “How old are you anyway?”
“Fifteen,” I replied breathlessly and resisted the urge to collapse on the floor.
“But I can’t go to the police,” he whispered. “I can’t.” He stared at the gun in his hand and lifted it up nearer to his face. Realisation dawned on me.
“Don’t do it!” I called desperatly. “That isn’t the solution and you know it.” I pushed my hair off of my sweaty forehead. “You can make a difference in the world. Taking your life out of it won’t help anyone.”
“It does,” the man replied determindly. He wasn’t going to have his mind changed. I had to stop him though – this wasn’t right. This man would have a family, and at least some friends despite his criminal lifestyle.
I grabbed the gun with my mind and pulled it from his fingers. It skittered across the floor and landed by the wall. He gaped back, open mouthed. “Keller told me you had special abilities,” the man said. “But I didn’t realise that you could do that.”
I nodded weakly, my own energy now gone.
“Tell me your name though,” I whispered. “Please.”
The man’s face softened. “Tom Jones.” His eyes were empty as he walked over and knelt beside me – I didn’t know how he could breathe with all the smoke. But as he came closer, I could see that he too was struggling.
“You can do great things Rachel,” he said and patted my head. I flinched away automatically and pressed myself against the wall. He smiled sadly, reached down and then stood up.
“No!” I called out, but ended up choking instead. Tom Jones threw me one last sad smile and walked into the flames.
I closed my eyes, tears pouring out of my eyes from sadness and the smoke as a single shot rang out. My arm gave out and I slumped onto the floor and drifted peacefully to sleep.
I'm going to post a little thing I wrote while I was on holiday. It uses the characters from my book 'The Myth Project' (well the main character) and is based on that storyline.
The main character Rachel has the power of telekinesis, which means she can move things with her mind. She has made many enemies during her time of working with the Myth Project and in this extract, she meets a new one
I know it is long, but I hope you like it.
Love beasle95 x :)
I looked up, my hair falling across my face.
He was watching me again; I could feel it. Flicking my hair out of my eyes, I looked up at the man.
He was holding up a newspaper – The Times – supposedly reading some of the latest sport headlines. But I could see his eyes peering over the top of the pages, zoning onto me. I cleared my throat and threw a pointed glance in his direction. The man coughed too and shook his papers, holding them up a bit so I could no longer see his face.
Turning my back on him, I grabbed some more books and headed over to shelf ‘R’. Quickly finding the right placement for the book, I groaned inwardly at the surnames of the next three authors of the books in my hands. ‘Fleming’, ‘Dickens’ and ‘Ackerman’. All in the same area. All within a few feet of the man.
Over by the M’s to Z’s I was safely out of sight. But the earlier letters were right near him and I was feeling more than uncomfortable by his presence.
I had filed a book under Dickens before and two under Fleming as well, so I could put the books straight on the shelves and walk away again. But the place for the book by ‘Alice Ackerman’ was taking me ages to find. My eyes scanned the shelves again and again, trying to find the exact place to put the book. My fingers twitched as I got more and more agitated. My side burned under the man’s gaze until I thought I might explode with tension. I was so scared that I could feel my control over my powers slipping. The recent months had proved to me that keeping control wasn’t easy at all.
I saw two leaflets flutter slightly, but they were sitting right by an open window, so I hoped that no-one would take any notice of their movement.
Breathing out a sigh, I at last found the location for the book and placed it on the shelf. It took so much will and self control to calmly stroll across the room to the trolley which was out of sight instead of sprinting there like Usain Bolt.
When at last I got behind the shelf out of sight, my shoulders sagged and I exhaled heavily. David walked up beside me, his face kind and smiling, holding a pile of books.
“You alright Rachel?” he asked sympathetically. “You don’t look very happy.”
I shook my head. “I’m not – that crazy man over there keeps staring at me and it’s freaking me out!” I ran my hand through my hair. “I just don’t want to be rude by saying anything, but it really is making me feel uncomfortable.”
David frowned and peered around the bookshelves. “Grey hair and stubble, black t-shirt with the newspaper?” he asked, turning back and I nodded. “I’ll go and have a word with him then.” David said and I threw him a grateful smile.
“Thanks.”
I hid behind the bookshelf and watched through the gaps between the books. David approached the man by walking casually across the room. The man stared over the top of his newspaper to where I was hiding. I flinched back, feeling his gaze burn my face.
“Hello sir,” I heard David say quietly to the man. Turning back around, I peered through the books again so I could see them both.
“Alrigh’?” The man replied, flashing two blackened teeth at the front of his mouth. I grimaced, imagining the smell from them – they must be rotten.
“You are making some of our employees feel uncomfortable with your...staring.” David stumbled over the last word but kept his tone polite. “Would you mind...not staring or I will have to ask you to leave the building.
The man frowned – his eyebrows knitting together and his face crinkled. “I ‘aven’t been starin’” he stated angrily.
“Mr...?” David asked and the man shook his head.
“I ain’t tellin’ you ma name mista!” The man growled and got to his feet. David held his hands up.
“Well then that’s fine sir. I just wanted t make that issue clear.” The man glared and sat back down again.
“Good. Glad there ain’t any more problems.” He rustled his paper indignantly and started reading again. David walked back over to me.
“Sorry Rachel.” He frowned. “I’d just stay away from him from now on. You get all sorts of people coming in here.” I nodded and thanked him again gratefully. David smiled and walked off to continue stacking books.
I was very selective about the books that I chose to stack for the rest of the hour. Anything before M in the alphabet didn’t come into my hands so I wouldn’t have to go near the man again. I could still feel his gaze on me for a while, but after 40 minutes, I looked over to the chair where he had been sitting and saw that he was gone.
After and amusing lunch where David and Ross had been doing impressions of Catherine Tate characters, I looked at my timetable and saw that I was scheduled to do shelf checks for an hour that afternoon. It wasn’t one of my favourite parts of the job, but I had to do everything I could.
I started off in the main section of the library, searching for books on musical history, biographies, baby names and children’s novels. I was very selective and quite tedious.
After 20 minutes of my endless searching, Gemma approached me. “Hi Rachel, have you seen David anywhere? He’s supposed to be helping me upstairs and I haven’t seen him since lunch time.”
I frowned. “What was he supposed to be doing now?” I asked.
Gemma answered almost instantly. “Shelf checks, like you.”
I nodded. “Well he might be in the basement. Some of the older books are down there right?” Gemma nodded and smiled.
“He’s probably down there. Could you please do me a massive favour and check if he is down there? I’ve got a ton of work to do upstairs and I shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Sure,” I nodded and put my pen and clipboard on the counter.
Walking across the library, I headed for the staff door and typed in the code, shielding the buttons with my body. Even though there wasn’t anything particularly important in this section, I still felt nervous about anyone seeing. Then they would have access to everything out back.
Door unlocked and opened, I walked through, making sure the door shut behind me. Typing in the code for the next door, I strode quickly down the stairs to the basement, passing the staff kitchen and meeting room on my way.
The basement was really dark as I walked into it. It was full of hundreds of records over the last century or so. Documents, newspapers and priceless books that were full of wear and memories. To some people, this stuff was just overdue rubbish but there was so much information and value despite the age of it all.
I grimaced at the cobwebs which hung from the ceiling, mixing with the shadows to create spooky patterns in the dim light. One of the bulbs flickered ominously and I shivered. It was cold down here. The place reminded me of running through the tunnel-like corridors in Keller’s headquarters – desperately trying so search for a way out.
“David?” I called and my voice echoed, resounding of the walls. “David are you down here?” I called again, my voice catching in my throat. I coughed and then swallowed. But I got no answer. I guess that I’d have to keep looking.
I wandered through the shelves, packed to bursting with old papers. I brushed my fingers gently over them, feeling the ancient paper skim my fingertips.
“David? Hello – are you down here?” I called again and again, but I still got no answer. I was deep in the basement now and there wasn’t much light at all.
Suddenly I heard a crash from somewhere off to my right. I froze, terrified and my eyes widened. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure that it would be a beacon to my whereabouts.
“David – is that you?” My voice sounded hoarse and I cleared my throat again. All the stupid dust was clogging up my lungs. I started walking again, each step noisily echoing off the walls. I tried to walk more quietly, but I was too scared now.
David could be anywhere down here – it was probably just some rats or something. I hoped the ‘or something’ wasn’t an option, or at least, better than rats.
I looped back around and started walking back towards the entrance. A sound of muffled shuffling and grunting suddenly reached my ears and I stopped again, listening. My eyes roamed around the dark room, picking out the details from the shadows of the shelves.
“David?” I whispered, too scared to shout. I heard a muffled shuffling again and warily stepped forwards towards the place where I thought the sound was coming from.
I wandered through the shelves, searching. My heard was pounding inside my chest and the sound filled my ears, making it difficult to hear anything else.
As I turned the next corner, I gasped. David was on the floor, his hands and feet bound and a gag in his mouth. I rushed over to his side and immediately started undoing the knot in the cloth in his mouth. After a minute, I managed to pull it free.
“What happened to you?” I gasped, undoing his hands.
“That stupid man who was staring at you earlier tied me up. He told me he had a job to finish and that I was getting in his way. He knocked me out and tied me up. I’ve only just woken up to be honest – I heard you calling.” I shook my head in disbelief and pulled back David’s hair off of his forehead. Sure enough, there was a large welt there. The skin had split and there was blood crusted around the edges.
“Is the man still here?” I asked, working the knot in the rope lose again.
David shrugged. “I’m not sure. I heard a crash a few minutes ago, but I thought it was you.” I froze, my hands hovering over David’s.
“It wasn’t me. I thought it was you.” Realisation dawned on both of us and my blood turned cold, goosebumps shooting across my skin.
“Let’s get you out of here quickly.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say and furiously continued unpicking the tight knots. My fingers ached and were rubbed red raw from the tough rope.
David sniffed and then frowned. “Can you smell that?” he asked, his eyebrows knotting together.
“What?” I replied absentmindedly. I was busy concentrating on the rope.
“That...burning...” David said slowly and my eyes shot up to meet his. I sniffed and sure enough I could smell the mild, but distinctive smell of smoke.
I worked even more quickly and with more desperation to unknot David’s hands and at last managed to do it. We started working on his feet together when suddenly there was a whoosh from behind me. We both jumped and I whirled around to stare at the bookshelves.
About three rows away from where we were sitting, a large tongue of flame shot towards the ceiling and crackled.
“Go and get an extinguisher! Set the alarm off!” David yelled, taking over from my sore hands. I nodded and scrambled to my feet. Running forward, I dodged past two shelves and around the next corner.
The flames were spreading fast; down here was the perfect place. It was dry and cool normally with a little bit of ventilation from the ceiling so the fire had no trouble setting alight the crisp paper. Three bookshelves were alight already and the flames were licking at a forth. My eyes darted back and forth as I ran from the fire, desperately trying to find an alarm or extinguisher. But I could find nothing.
The air was filling with smoke and I coughed loudly, trying to clear my lungs. My eyes watered and I wished that there was a window or something to get some clean air in here.
I skidded around the next corner and groaned. Where the fire extinguisher had once been, was an empty bracket on the wall. I couldn’t see a point to set off the alarm, but I was sure that it would go off in any second anyway. Rushing as fast as I could, I made my way back to David who was still working furiously on his bonds.
“I can’t find anything,” I choked. “He’s taken the fire extinguisher.”
“Ok, don’t panic,” David said reassuringly. “Can you help me with these ropes again?” I nodded and got to work.
Suddenly David’s eyes widened. “Rachel!” he called out in warning, but it was too late. I twisted around to see what he was warning me about just as a large metal pole was slammed into my shoulder. I gasped and rolled away, springing to my feet.
The man was standing there panting; the pole in one hand. His face was dirty from the ash and he was sweating profusely.
“Who are you?” I demanded, trying not to inhale the smoke.
“My name is not important Rachel,” the man said. “But I work for an old...friend of yours.”
“Who?” I asked, taken aback by the man’s casual use of my name and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling this created.
“Russell Keller.” His lips parted in a grimace – a pathetic attempt at a smile and revealed his foul blackened teeth. I shuddered and resisted the urge to look away – he might attack me again and I needed to be ready.
“Why has he sent you?” I asked just as David demanded:
“Who the heck is Keller?” I ignored him.
“What’s he told you to do then? Murder? Torture? Kidnapping? Am I being taken to see him face to face?”
The man didn’t reply, but instead lunged forward and grabbed my arm. Twisting my wrist, I tried to get away but his grip was like iron – it was almost impossible to escape.
Almost.
The man was still holding onto the metal pole that he had used to hit me with earlier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lift it up, ready to hit me again.
But to his surprise, the pole suddenly decided that it didn’t want to hit me, but it wanted to be free.
Spinning around, the pole whirled out of the man’s hand so fast I thought I heard it dislocate. I grimaced as he yelled in pain and automatically let go of me to hold his wrist. I twisted away and then spun around on one foot, bringing it up to kick the man in the stomach. His breath was forced out of his lungs and he doubled over, griping his middle and holding his hand into his body to protect it. I followed through with a sharp chop to the back of his neck and he dropped to the ground and lay still.
I rushed over to David who was gaping madly – eyes as wide as saucers and his jaw slack. “What the heck just happened?” he choked, partly through disbelief and partly because of the thickening smoke.
“Doesn’t matter – we need to get out of here!” I yelled over the noise of the fire. It crackled and popped and the flames had reached the ceiling now. And they were spreading fast.
At last I managed to undo David’s feet and the rope fell away.
Grabbing my hand, David pulled himself to his feet and we both started coughing. My eyes were watering so much now, I could hardly see.
“Help me with him,” I choked and a ragged cough cut through my lungs. But with each cough, I was inhaling more smoke so it only made me cough more. David grabbed one of the man’s arms and slung it across his shoulders. I did the same on the other side and together we half carried, half dragged the unconscious man towards the exit.
“I can’t believe you knocked him out!” David kept saying, the words gushing out of his mouth and flowing into each other. “You didn’t even hit him much and he dropped like a ton of bricks!” David shot me a questioning look. “What does he want anyway? And who is this Keller guy you were both talking about?”
I desperately evaded his questions. “I’ll answer them later David – we need to get out of here!” David nodded determinedly – I think he was in shock or something.
The flames had caught the wooden supports on the ceilings which were now glowing a deep red.
“Look out!” I gasped, automatically pulling myself backwards. David, taken by surprise stumbled a few steps forward and fell down. But the man fell backwards on top of me, his dead weight heavy. I gasped and pushed him off myself. A 6 foot long wooden support post had dropped down from the ceiling, smouldering and crackling manically, landing on the ground separation David from the man and I.
“Are you alright Rachel?” David called, desperately trying to bat out the flames on the log.
“I’m ok!” I called back and tried to get to my feet. But to my surprise and horror, a bolt of pain shot up my leg. I cried out and fell back down again, catching myself just in time.
“I think I’ve sprained my ankle!” I called to David, who was looking desperately from side to side.
“I can’t get round to you!” David yelled, fear written all over his face. “The log’s blocked the path completely.” Sure enough, as I looked up, I noticed that at this point in the basement, it had narrowed into a corridor, one bookshelf on each side lining the walls. But where the log had caught fire, it had fallen right across the gap where we were supposed to walk through. Which meant our only way of escape had been blocked. Panic gripped my heart, but I tried to stay calm.
“Run David! Set the alarm off and get the fire brigade here now! Get everyone else out of the building!”
“I can’t...” David started, but I yelled.
“GO!” And he ran away.
I slumped on the ground, unsure what to do. I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. The smoke seemed to be thickening by the second.
I thought I should try and move the log out of the way – see if I could create a gap big enough to crawl through. I concentrated really hard on the log, feeling the substance and heat of it in my head. Very slowly, I tried to move it to one side, twisting it so that it ran the length of the corridor rather than the width. My breathing became more and more ragged until I thought I might pass out. And the log had barely moved a few centimetres. I guessed that I would have to wait for the fire brigade to rescue me instead.
I decided that I probably needed to find a more sheltered place to wait and hide under to protect me from the flames. I stared indecisively at the man. The flames on the log were licking at his feet and I knew that they would catch him if he wasn’t moved.
Crawling forward, I gripped his arms and dragged him and myself backwards; away from the flaming log. Unfortunately, for a while at least it meant that we had to travel past the larger fire. I could barely breathe at all now and I couldn’t concentrate long enough to use my mind to lift the man up. So I had to use the old fashioned method of dragging him with my hands. It was really hard work and by the time we were in a more sheltered and safer spot, I was ready to pass out.
The whole room apart from our little area was alight now and I could barely see anything through the thick black smoke.
I vaguely remembered that I should cover my mouth with a piece of damp cloth to stop myself inhaling so much of the smoke. But there was nothing damp in here anymore apart from the sweat the was running off of my skin from the intense heat. I ripped the bottom of my shirt so I had a strip of material and held it over my mouth and then curled into a ball.
I hoped that the fire engines would get here soon – I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take this heat. My skin was blistering and the hair was being singed off of my arms. My ankle was throbbing from where I had fallen earlier. I lay my head down on my arm, my face turned away from the fire.
Suddenly I heard movement from behind me – not the movement of the fire’s destruction, but something else. Something big and heavy. I summoned some of my rapidly declining energy to lift my head.
And gasped with amazement and horror.
The man – the man who had stared at me; the man who had tied David up and set fire to the basement; the man who had been unconscious...was now awake and standing in front of me.
With a gun in his hand. Pointing at me.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered my voice hoarse from the smoke. The man’s bright yet freezing eyes bored down into mine. They were the coldest things in the whole room.
“Because I was paid to,” he replied. His skin was bright red and blistered badly on one side from the heat of the flames. I hoped my own wasn’t half as bad.
“But...why...” I couldn’t speak anymore. My throat was too full of smoke.
“But I have one question for you Rachel,” the man said and I nodded, indicating that he should continue. “Why did you pull me from the flames, when I’m the one who started it and hurt you?”
I pushed myself up with one arm and sat up. “’Cause,” I choked, pulling the cloth away from my mouth. “...’cause I think...people can change...” I coughed, my whole body convulsing with the movement. “...even...stupid criminals...don’t deserve...to die...like this.” I sucked in a deep breath, but it gave no relief to the burning in my chest. “So...I thought you...should have a...chance to...change...”
The man started at me, shock and disbelief written all over his face. His hand holding the gun shook and he lowered it.
“I can’t kill you now,” he muttered half to himself. “How old are you anyway?”
“Fifteen,” I replied breathlessly and resisted the urge to collapse on the floor.
“But I can’t go to the police,” he whispered. “I can’t.” He stared at the gun in his hand and lifted it up nearer to his face. Realisation dawned on me.
“Don’t do it!” I called desperatly. “That isn’t the solution and you know it.” I pushed my hair off of my sweaty forehead. “You can make a difference in the world. Taking your life out of it won’t help anyone.”
“It does,” the man replied determindly. He wasn’t going to have his mind changed. I had to stop him though – this wasn’t right. This man would have a family, and at least some friends despite his criminal lifestyle.
I grabbed the gun with my mind and pulled it from his fingers. It skittered across the floor and landed by the wall. He gaped back, open mouthed. “Keller told me you had special abilities,” the man said. “But I didn’t realise that you could do that.”
I nodded weakly, my own energy now gone.
“Tell me your name though,” I whispered. “Please.”
The man’s face softened. “Tom Jones.” His eyes were empty as he walked over and knelt beside me – I didn’t know how he could breathe with all the smoke. But as he came closer, I could see that he too was struggling.
“You can do great things Rachel,” he said and patted my head. I flinched away automatically and pressed myself against the wall. He smiled sadly, reached down and then stood up.
“No!” I called out, but ended up choking instead. Tom Jones threw me one last sad smile and walked into the flames.
I closed my eyes, tears pouring out of my eyes from sadness and the smoke as a single shot rang out. My arm gave out and I slumped onto the floor and drifted peacefully to sleep.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
It's been a while...
Hey guys...
Sorry I haven't posted for a while. I've been up to my eyes in work, work and weddings. Lol...
Anyways, I am going to post a little thing that I wrote the other day...but not today 'cause I haven't got my memorystick with me.
Anyway, please read what I have posted already and continue to tell your friends to read too.
And please follow it, not just read it.
Thanks a lot
Lots of love
beasle95 x
Sorry I haven't posted for a while. I've been up to my eyes in work, work and weddings. Lol...
Anyways, I am going to post a little thing that I wrote the other day...but not today 'cause I haven't got my memorystick with me.
Anyway, please read what I have posted already and continue to tell your friends to read too.
And please follow it, not just read it.
Thanks a lot
Lots of love
beasle95 x
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
A new chapter...
Heya lovely readers,
I am getting such amazing responses! Thank you all so much!!! Please continue reading and sending the link on to your friends and family. Thanks so much!
So yeah, here's the second chapter of 'The Myth Project'
Love beasle95 :)
Chapter 2
I walked back to the form room and spent the rest of the day in a daze. Now I was over my anger and shock at Marcie's accusal, I wondered about the strange wind in Mrs Richards’ office earlier. What had that been all about?
Sam tried to get me to talk to her. I just told her about the cheating, but not about the strange wind and the floating objects. For some reason I didn’t want to tell her – I felt like I should keep it to myself.
I walked home on my own too, lost in my own thoughts. When I let myself into the house and I could hear my family clattering around in the kitchen.
“Hi Rachel,” my step-mum Sarah called out from inside the kitchen and I walked through. She was standing at the sink washing up baking utensils, her face covered in flour. My half brother and sister Daniel and Lily were sitting on the floor, a mixing bowl between them and a spoon in their hands. They both had chocolate mixture all the way up to their ears and smiled sticky grins.
Daniel was almost eight years old and Lily was four. Both shared their mother’s blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes. Sarah turned and gave me a hug, her hands still wet.
“How was school today?” she asked, drying her hands on a tea towel. I sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and smiled gratefully when she handed me a mug of tea. Lily ran up and climbed on my lap. Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my nose into her hair that always seemed to smell of strawberries. I bounced her on my knee and she giggled.
“Alright I guess; quite busy, but manageable.” Although I do love Sarah, I’d never been massively close to her, so I didn’t feel ready to admit the incident at lunch straight away. Sarah had always been kind and welcoming to me right from the start but I’d always felt a bit distant from her because she wasn’t my real Mum. It was worse when Daniel and then Lily were born – my father had moved on from the death of my mother and he had made a new family. I felt like I was intruding sometimes.
But I was still close to my Dad – we told each other everything, even when I was little. I told him if I had a reward or argument at school and he was honest by telling me the financial situations and how his work was going, even when I was six and didn’t understand. Sarah used to try and stop him because she thought it would make me grow up to fast. But Dad told me anyway and I liked that, even if I worried sometimes. I loved fact that we shared everything with each other.
“Look! Mummy, Dan-ny and me made fairy cakes!” Lily pulled at my sleeve and I got up to peer at their creations in the oven.
“They’re great sweetie – you’re very clever.” I kissed the top of her head and she slipped her hand into mine, her eyes wide and trusting.
“Did you have fun making cakes Daniel?” I asked him, ruffling his hair and he nodded. He had chocolate mixture all around his mouth in a sticky grin.
“I didn’t make them, but I got to lick the bowl!” He held up his spoon triumphantly and I laughed.
“Good, good.” I made my way upstairs to my room to do my homework.
Slipping my bag off my shoulder, I dumped it on the floor and collapsed onto my bed. My head was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Fear, worry and some happiness. Peace of mind was far away.
Knowing I had lots of work to do, I sat back up again and went to my laptop to start absentmindedly working through some maths exercises.
My laptop bleeped and my MSN page came up. Aaron and Sam were already on and waiting.
@aaronrulz says: Yo Rachel. Wot’s up?
@goldylocks says: Shuddup Aaron, you sound like a gangster.
I smiled and started typing.
@rachey-ru says: Heya guys. Aaron, what time do you want me at ur place on sat?
@aaronrulz says: 8.30 sharp plz. My dad’s gonna take u both home – it will be quite l8 tho. That ok?
@goldylocks says: Same 4 me?
@aaronrulz says: Sure. Cya l8r guys, I got footy practise.
@rachey-ru says: Cool, c u guys tomoz. Bye.
I switched off my MSN and cracked on with my homework. But after a few minutes of doing a science paper I decided I really couldn’t concentrate and would catch up later.
I wandered back over to my bed and flopped onto my back. Grabbing a picture off my bedside table, I looked at it fondly.
The picture was of my Dad, my Mum and I when I was a baby. My parents were smiling and had their arms around each other with me sitting on my Mum’s hip. My mother looked beautiful and young with her long dark hair and wide brown eyes which sparkled with happiness. My Dad also looked young with a boyish haircut that fell over his eyes. My face was stern and I was staring hard at whoever was taking the picture.
The picture was taken in the summer. Our little bungalow in the background was in the country but I didn’t remember it at all – I had been too young. The sun was shining and the sky was a bright blue. The plants and grass looked a vivid green in the golden light.
A picture of happiness.
My mum died two years later of a rare cancer. There had been no history of the disease in my family previously and my mother had been perfectly healthy. ‘It was just one of those things...’ the doctors had said.
My world was plunged into darkness when she died. My father was completely heartbroken and went into a depression. But even through his dark misery, he still looked after me. We became closer than most other families and we looked out for each other; my Dad fulfilling my basic needs and telling me all about his work and friends. In return I tried to help him as much as a four year old could around the house. But when I was seven my Dad married again to a woman called Sarah. They met each other through work and quickly became close friends, then engaged. Within six months they were married and Sarah was pregnant with their first child.
It was all a bit of a shock for me. Sarah was lovely and although I couldn’t remember much about my real mother, I couldn’t imagine my Dad with anyone else.
The picture was one of the few that we had together. My parents had very little money when they married and could only just scrape together enough to buy our bungalow and some food.
I put the picture back on my bedside table and rolled off my bed to stand in the middle of the floor. Suddenly the doorbell rang and a grin spread over my face. It was my Dad – I knew it. I ran downstairs, yanked open the door and threw myself into his arms.
He laughed. “Hello pumpkin – how are you?” He hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head.
“Better now that you’re home.” My ear was pressed against his chest right over his heart and I could hear it beating loudly. I smiled.
“Hi darling.” I let my arms drop as my Dad went to greet Sarah.
“You’re home nice and early,” she smiled and tugged at his shirt. My Dad held her hand and kissed her gently.
I looked away, feeling like I was intruding. Even after all these years, it still felt strange when I saw them kiss – I could only picture him with my Mum.
The pile of letters and papers on the table by the door suddenly started rustling and moving around. All on their own. I stared at them in shock. No-one was touching them and there was no wind.
My Dad and Sarah stopped talking and also looked at the papers. Suddenly they stopped moving. Sarah looked a little freaked out but my Dad looked...terrified.
I stared at him and he met my eye. The scale of fear in his eyes made my heart race with panic. He tried to cover it up by smiling at me, but it came out as a grimace.
“Well that was weird,” Sarah laughed nervously, but my Dad just smiled tightly in response and didn’t say anything and walked into the kitchen.
My heart pounded. What was happening? Why was all this strange stuff going on? Twice in one day papers and other objects had started moving and floating around all on their own.
I felt very confused and worried. Dad had looked terrified. I mean – some papers had just moved a little when no-one was touching them. But it wasn’t that strange...
Was it?
I am getting such amazing responses! Thank you all so much!!! Please continue reading and sending the link on to your friends and family. Thanks so much!
So yeah, here's the second chapter of 'The Myth Project'
Love beasle95 :)
Chapter 2
I walked back to the form room and spent the rest of the day in a daze. Now I was over my anger and shock at Marcie's accusal, I wondered about the strange wind in Mrs Richards’ office earlier. What had that been all about?
Sam tried to get me to talk to her. I just told her about the cheating, but not about the strange wind and the floating objects. For some reason I didn’t want to tell her – I felt like I should keep it to myself.
I walked home on my own too, lost in my own thoughts. When I let myself into the house and I could hear my family clattering around in the kitchen.
“Hi Rachel,” my step-mum Sarah called out from inside the kitchen and I walked through. She was standing at the sink washing up baking utensils, her face covered in flour. My half brother and sister Daniel and Lily were sitting on the floor, a mixing bowl between them and a spoon in their hands. They both had chocolate mixture all the way up to their ears and smiled sticky grins.
Daniel was almost eight years old and Lily was four. Both shared their mother’s blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes. Sarah turned and gave me a hug, her hands still wet.
“How was school today?” she asked, drying her hands on a tea towel. I sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and smiled gratefully when she handed me a mug of tea. Lily ran up and climbed on my lap. Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my nose into her hair that always seemed to smell of strawberries. I bounced her on my knee and she giggled.
“Alright I guess; quite busy, but manageable.” Although I do love Sarah, I’d never been massively close to her, so I didn’t feel ready to admit the incident at lunch straight away. Sarah had always been kind and welcoming to me right from the start but I’d always felt a bit distant from her because she wasn’t my real Mum. It was worse when Daniel and then Lily were born – my father had moved on from the death of my mother and he had made a new family. I felt like I was intruding sometimes.
But I was still close to my Dad – we told each other everything, even when I was little. I told him if I had a reward or argument at school and he was honest by telling me the financial situations and how his work was going, even when I was six and didn’t understand. Sarah used to try and stop him because she thought it would make me grow up to fast. But Dad told me anyway and I liked that, even if I worried sometimes. I loved fact that we shared everything with each other.
“Look! Mummy, Dan-ny and me made fairy cakes!” Lily pulled at my sleeve and I got up to peer at their creations in the oven.
“They’re great sweetie – you’re very clever.” I kissed the top of her head and she slipped her hand into mine, her eyes wide and trusting.
“Did you have fun making cakes Daniel?” I asked him, ruffling his hair and he nodded. He had chocolate mixture all around his mouth in a sticky grin.
“I didn’t make them, but I got to lick the bowl!” He held up his spoon triumphantly and I laughed.
“Good, good.” I made my way upstairs to my room to do my homework.
Slipping my bag off my shoulder, I dumped it on the floor and collapsed onto my bed. My head was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Fear, worry and some happiness. Peace of mind was far away.
Knowing I had lots of work to do, I sat back up again and went to my laptop to start absentmindedly working through some maths exercises.
My laptop bleeped and my MSN page came up. Aaron and Sam were already on and waiting.
@aaronrulz says: Yo Rachel. Wot’s up?
@goldylocks says: Shuddup Aaron, you sound like a gangster.
I smiled and started typing.
@rachey-ru says: Heya guys. Aaron, what time do you want me at ur place on sat?
@aaronrulz says: 8.30 sharp plz. My dad’s gonna take u both home – it will be quite l8 tho. That ok?
@goldylocks says: Same 4 me?
@aaronrulz says: Sure. Cya l8r guys, I got footy practise.
@rachey-ru says: Cool, c u guys tomoz. Bye.
I switched off my MSN and cracked on with my homework. But after a few minutes of doing a science paper I decided I really couldn’t concentrate and would catch up later.
I wandered back over to my bed and flopped onto my back. Grabbing a picture off my bedside table, I looked at it fondly.
The picture was of my Dad, my Mum and I when I was a baby. My parents were smiling and had their arms around each other with me sitting on my Mum’s hip. My mother looked beautiful and young with her long dark hair and wide brown eyes which sparkled with happiness. My Dad also looked young with a boyish haircut that fell over his eyes. My face was stern and I was staring hard at whoever was taking the picture.
The picture was taken in the summer. Our little bungalow in the background was in the country but I didn’t remember it at all – I had been too young. The sun was shining and the sky was a bright blue. The plants and grass looked a vivid green in the golden light.
A picture of happiness.
My mum died two years later of a rare cancer. There had been no history of the disease in my family previously and my mother had been perfectly healthy. ‘It was just one of those things...’ the doctors had said.
My world was plunged into darkness when she died. My father was completely heartbroken and went into a depression. But even through his dark misery, he still looked after me. We became closer than most other families and we looked out for each other; my Dad fulfilling my basic needs and telling me all about his work and friends. In return I tried to help him as much as a four year old could around the house. But when I was seven my Dad married again to a woman called Sarah. They met each other through work and quickly became close friends, then engaged. Within six months they were married and Sarah was pregnant with their first child.
It was all a bit of a shock for me. Sarah was lovely and although I couldn’t remember much about my real mother, I couldn’t imagine my Dad with anyone else.
The picture was one of the few that we had together. My parents had very little money when they married and could only just scrape together enough to buy our bungalow and some food.
I put the picture back on my bedside table and rolled off my bed to stand in the middle of the floor. Suddenly the doorbell rang and a grin spread over my face. It was my Dad – I knew it. I ran downstairs, yanked open the door and threw myself into his arms.
He laughed. “Hello pumpkin – how are you?” He hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head.
“Better now that you’re home.” My ear was pressed against his chest right over his heart and I could hear it beating loudly. I smiled.
“Hi darling.” I let my arms drop as my Dad went to greet Sarah.
“You’re home nice and early,” she smiled and tugged at his shirt. My Dad held her hand and kissed her gently.
I looked away, feeling like I was intruding. Even after all these years, it still felt strange when I saw them kiss – I could only picture him with my Mum.
The pile of letters and papers on the table by the door suddenly started rustling and moving around. All on their own. I stared at them in shock. No-one was touching them and there was no wind.
My Dad and Sarah stopped talking and also looked at the papers. Suddenly they stopped moving. Sarah looked a little freaked out but my Dad looked...terrified.
I stared at him and he met my eye. The scale of fear in his eyes made my heart race with panic. He tried to cover it up by smiling at me, but it came out as a grimace.
“Well that was weird,” Sarah laughed nervously, but my Dad just smiled tightly in response and didn’t say anything and walked into the kitchen.
My heart pounded. What was happening? Why was all this strange stuff going on? Twice in one day papers and other objects had started moving and floating around all on their own.
I felt very confused and worried. Dad had looked terrified. I mean – some papers had just moved a little when no-one was touching them. But it wasn’t that strange...
Was it?
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Something else...
The Myth Project isn't the only book that I have writen recently. Another one is about a girl called Lauren Hayden who is 14 years old and is plunged into a world that she didn't even know existed. So now I'm going to include the beginning of this book...you'll have to wait for the rest though!!! ;)
Love beasle95
Preface
I’d never known the boy before he changed my life.
I’d never known the secret that he carried; didn’t know the powers he was capable of.
That I could be capable of.
It wasn’t a bad way to die. Peaceful . To protect the secret that had almost cost the life of the person that had changed your own. To protect the person who had opened up a whole new world and now given you the chance to protect it yourself. Even if you didn’t know whether they were alive or not.
And I knew, even as I stared into the eyes of the man I had trusted, had looked up to; the man that had betrayed me, that I would protect the secret with my life. Just like he did.
Chapter 1
The phone call came in the dead of night. The world was asleep. All was quiet.
I wasn’t asleep. The wind whistled through the chimney, and rain smashed into the windows. I lay, tossing and turning for a while, trying to sleep. But sleep evaded me. I sighed and sat up. This was hopeless. I just couldn’t settle.
And then like a signal from another world, my mobile rang. I froze. Who would be calling me at this time in the night? Wearily I leant over and accepted the call.
“Hello?” I murmured and yawned.
“They’re after me,” said the voice. A low tenor; a teenage boy.
“What? Who’s after you? Who are you?” I had no idea who this person was, or why they had called me.
“Men. Men are after me. They want to get rid of me.”
“Who are they? Why do they want to get rid of you?”
A low chuckle came through the line. “They’re scared of me. They think I’m dangerous.”
“Are you dangerous? But...how did you get my number?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? Who are you?”
“I remembered it. I was given this number to call if ever I was in trouble. If I knew I was going to die.”
“What?” I was scared now. Really scared. Who was this person? Why was he being chased? “But...but where did you get it from? Who gave it to you?”
“My father; before he died. He told me to call this number if ever I thought I was going to be taken away. To tell you the secret. The secret of what we are.” Was this boy mad? He must be mad, I told myself. But the boy sounded rational, even through his panic, and sheer determination.
“What’s your name? I need your name so that I know if you are the person I need to be speaking to.” I wasn’t going to give this boy my name, so I didn’t answer.
The boy huffed in frustration. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’m guessing its Lauren then? Lauren Hayden?” I froze again. How did he know my name?
“How do you know my name?” I whispered.
“I just told you. It was by my dad. He said I had to call you if ever something happened to me.” He paused. “Lauren, can I trust you? Can I tell you the secret of what we are?” That phrase again. What did he mean ‘what we are?’
“I don’t know what you are talking about. But...you can trust me.” Was I crazy? I had no idea who this boy was; a complete stranger who thought he was going to die.
“But if I tell you, you might end up being in the same danger as me one day. I don’t want to force you...to scare you.”
“It...It’s ok. Just tell me.”
“Ok, get a pen and paper. I need you to write something down.” I pulled out my notebook and biro and sat, the pen poised over the page.
“Shoot.”
“Ok, write down this address: 43 Crescent Road – it’s a coffee shop near to where you live. It’s not far. I want you to meet me there tomorrow morning so that I can deliver a package to you. It’s a journal which holds the secrets that you need to know.”
“You’re about to enter a world very different from your own Lauren. They’re secrets of hidden forces that are starting to resurface, and it is our job to keep them alive. I will help you for as long as I can Lauren, for as long as I live. But I don’t think that’ll be very long.” His voice hardened. I shivered again. He sounded so determined, not scared at all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to discuss my death so rationally.
The boy spoke again, this time a new desperate edge to his voice. “I can’t let it die, Lauren. I can’t let the only thing that has kept me alive die. If you come to this address I’ll give you a journal; my dad’s journal and amulet. Inside them the power lies, and it lies within you too Lauren. Just remember, stay strong.”
“But please! Tell me, what’s your name?” I begged. “I need to know your name.”
The boy huffed, frustrated again. “What’s the name of your eldest cousin?”
“Ben,” I said, confused. “But why –“
“Then just remember me as Ben,” he said. “My name isn’t important, but…if it makes you happy, just remember me as Ben. Just go to that address tomorrow morning and meet me there.” He took in a sharp breath.
“Ben?” I asked. Had he been hurt? “Are you alright?” His voice came back strained as if he was clenching his teeth.
“Sure, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me Lauren. Please, just keep the secret safe.” He paused, and I could hear him running. “I’ve got to go – look after yourself Lauren.” And the line went dead.
I held the phone to my ear for a few seconds, frozen. What had happened to him? All the things he had said – they didn’t make any sense.
I eventually managed to uncurl my fingers enough to drop my phone and lay thinking. The boy said I had power. Sure, I was quite strong, but that wasn’t what he meant. He said the amulet and the journal had power too – the power was inside them. How was I going to get them? I reached over and grabbed my laptop and typed in the address into Google. Good – it wasn’t far away. I could easily catch a bus there. But – I glanced over at my bag full of my clothes for the next few days. I was going away for the weekend the next day with my friends from my youth group. We’d been planning the trip for ages and were all really excited to go, and were leaving early afternoon. I would have to get the journal early to be able to look at it before I went. I couldn’t leave it untouched.
I was way too keyed up to sleep so I wrote down most of what I remembered from the boy’s conversation. I had a feeling I might need it later.
Love beasle95
Preface
I’d never known the boy before he changed my life.
I’d never known the secret that he carried; didn’t know the powers he was capable of.
That I could be capable of.
It wasn’t a bad way to die. Peaceful . To protect the secret that had almost cost the life of the person that had changed your own. To protect the person who had opened up a whole new world and now given you the chance to protect it yourself. Even if you didn’t know whether they were alive or not.
And I knew, even as I stared into the eyes of the man I had trusted, had looked up to; the man that had betrayed me, that I would protect the secret with my life. Just like he did.
Chapter 1
The phone call came in the dead of night. The world was asleep. All was quiet.
I wasn’t asleep. The wind whistled through the chimney, and rain smashed into the windows. I lay, tossing and turning for a while, trying to sleep. But sleep evaded me. I sighed and sat up. This was hopeless. I just couldn’t settle.
And then like a signal from another world, my mobile rang. I froze. Who would be calling me at this time in the night? Wearily I leant over and accepted the call.
“Hello?” I murmured and yawned.
“They’re after me,” said the voice. A low tenor; a teenage boy.
“What? Who’s after you? Who are you?” I had no idea who this person was, or why they had called me.
“Men. Men are after me. They want to get rid of me.”
“Who are they? Why do they want to get rid of you?”
A low chuckle came through the line. “They’re scared of me. They think I’m dangerous.”
“Are you dangerous? But...how did you get my number?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? Who are you?”
“I remembered it. I was given this number to call if ever I was in trouble. If I knew I was going to die.”
“What?” I was scared now. Really scared. Who was this person? Why was he being chased? “But...but where did you get it from? Who gave it to you?”
“My father; before he died. He told me to call this number if ever I thought I was going to be taken away. To tell you the secret. The secret of what we are.” Was this boy mad? He must be mad, I told myself. But the boy sounded rational, even through his panic, and sheer determination.
“What’s your name? I need your name so that I know if you are the person I need to be speaking to.” I wasn’t going to give this boy my name, so I didn’t answer.
The boy huffed in frustration. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’m guessing its Lauren then? Lauren Hayden?” I froze again. How did he know my name?
“How do you know my name?” I whispered.
“I just told you. It was by my dad. He said I had to call you if ever something happened to me.” He paused. “Lauren, can I trust you? Can I tell you the secret of what we are?” That phrase again. What did he mean ‘what we are?’
“I don’t know what you are talking about. But...you can trust me.” Was I crazy? I had no idea who this boy was; a complete stranger who thought he was going to die.
“But if I tell you, you might end up being in the same danger as me one day. I don’t want to force you...to scare you.”
“It...It’s ok. Just tell me.”
“Ok, get a pen and paper. I need you to write something down.” I pulled out my notebook and biro and sat, the pen poised over the page.
“Shoot.”
“Ok, write down this address: 43 Crescent Road – it’s a coffee shop near to where you live. It’s not far. I want you to meet me there tomorrow morning so that I can deliver a package to you. It’s a journal which holds the secrets that you need to know.”
“You’re about to enter a world very different from your own Lauren. They’re secrets of hidden forces that are starting to resurface, and it is our job to keep them alive. I will help you for as long as I can Lauren, for as long as I live. But I don’t think that’ll be very long.” His voice hardened. I shivered again. He sounded so determined, not scared at all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to discuss my death so rationally.
The boy spoke again, this time a new desperate edge to his voice. “I can’t let it die, Lauren. I can’t let the only thing that has kept me alive die. If you come to this address I’ll give you a journal; my dad’s journal and amulet. Inside them the power lies, and it lies within you too Lauren. Just remember, stay strong.”
“But please! Tell me, what’s your name?” I begged. “I need to know your name.”
The boy huffed, frustrated again. “What’s the name of your eldest cousin?”
“Ben,” I said, confused. “But why –“
“Then just remember me as Ben,” he said. “My name isn’t important, but…if it makes you happy, just remember me as Ben. Just go to that address tomorrow morning and meet me there.” He took in a sharp breath.
“Ben?” I asked. Had he been hurt? “Are you alright?” His voice came back strained as if he was clenching his teeth.
“Sure, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me Lauren. Please, just keep the secret safe.” He paused, and I could hear him running. “I’ve got to go – look after yourself Lauren.” And the line went dead.
I held the phone to my ear for a few seconds, frozen. What had happened to him? All the things he had said – they didn’t make any sense.
I eventually managed to uncurl my fingers enough to drop my phone and lay thinking. The boy said I had power. Sure, I was quite strong, but that wasn’t what he meant. He said the amulet and the journal had power too – the power was inside them. How was I going to get them? I reached over and grabbed my laptop and typed in the address into Google. Good – it wasn’t far away. I could easily catch a bus there. But – I glanced over at my bag full of my clothes for the next few days. I was going away for the weekend the next day with my friends from my youth group. We’d been planning the trip for ages and were all really excited to go, and were leaving early afternoon. I would have to get the journal early to be able to look at it before I went. I couldn’t leave it untouched.
I was way too keyed up to sleep so I wrote down most of what I remembered from the boy’s conversation. I had a feeling I might need it later.
Monday, 12 July 2010
First little extract...
My first book that I want to publish is called 'The Myth Project'. It is targeted at young adults (teenagers) and other adults too.
The genre is a mixture of sci-fi/fantasy/action/romance...I like to keep my work very original and interesting.
So...I'm going to include the first chapter of 'The Myth Project' and you lovely people can read it...
I haven't yet worked out how to attatch word documents, so bear with me...I'm afraid for the time being you will have to read it inside the blog box.
I would love for you to make comments; positive or negative...but please be constructive and try to keep the bad language to a minimum...thanks...
beasle95
Chapter 1
“See you later Dad!” I called into the hallway as I walked out the door to go to school. I briefly heard his muffled response from the kitchen before it was shut out as I slammed the door closed.
The morning was warm, but grey. A soft wind rustled the leaves and made my hair tickle the back of my neck. I tucked it behind one ear and tried to stand tall as I walked down the quiet street.
It was a Monday and I wasn’t looking forward to going back to the normal routine of work and homework. I’d been studying all weekend for an English exam and was tired and stressed out, so I wasn’t in the best of moods.
Turning the corner, I walked up to a familiar Victorian red brick house. Ringing the bell, I heard it echo through and someone ran to answer it.
“I’m just coming – let me get my bag,” Sam said, flicking her long golden hair off her shoulder and ran back down the corridor to grab a scruffy backpack, which she pulled on. She called a farewell into her house and we were off.
Sam’s my best friend and we are sworn sisters, even if we aren’t by blood or looks. Sam’s hair is a beautiful wavy gold that comes down almost to her waist (she refuses to be called a blond). Her deep shining blue eyes hold no secrets and I can normally tell if they do. My hair is a deep brown that turns coppery red in the sunlight that comes just beyond my shoulders and looks very different. My eyes are also a deep brown that Sam says are like melted chocolate buttons. I’m not sure that’s a good thing...
But despite out difference in looks, we couldn’t be closer. We practically live at each others houses and have no secrets between us.
“Have you revised for the English exam?” Sam asked, bumping me with her elbow.
I groaned. “All weekend! I’ll be so glad when it’s all over. How much did you do?”
“Loads; I got so stressed out and annoyed about it, my dad started bringing me hot chocolate up. It was good...”
I laughed, feeling some tension leaving my shoulders. “That’s good then.”
“Oh my gosh, he is fit!” Sam stated and I looked in the direction she was gaping at.
A tall, shaggy dark haired guy crossed the road up from us, his ripped jeans and scruffy trainers immediately catching Sam’s attention. He was dressed completely in black; from his black jacket to black shoes.
“Hottie gothy!” Sam staged whispered and I elbowed her in the ribs.
“Sam! He’s at least three years older than us! No way!”
Sam sniffed in annoyance. “I know. And he has a girlfriend.” She shot daggers across the street as the guy greeted a girl on the corner and put his arm around her. “I hate her.” I rolled my eyes at Sam and changed topics.
We chatted as we walked; discussing everything that had happened since we last saw each other.
“So, how’s your Dad?” Sam asked, glancing sideways up at me.
“He’s good. He’s so much happier than he used to be – especially since he got that new job, and obviously since he married Sarah.” I smiled. “And since they had Daniel and Lily. How’s your Dad?”
“He’s alright too. A bit stressed out ‘coz Dylan managed to lose Dad’s car keys.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the smartest move; I mean Dylan loses everything! You’d think he’d learn after nineteen years.”
Sam’s older brother Dylan is a bit out of control. He does everything with complete and utter enthusiasm and often doesn’t stop to think about the consequences of his actions. Personally, I found Dylan hilarious and Sam was very close to him as well.
You may be wondering why both of us only mentioned our fathers. Well Sam and I are similar in other ways than personality. Both our mothers died when we were only a few years old. My Dad married to Sarah a few years ago, but Sam’s father never re-married. Since then, they both looked after each other’s daughters and have made a close friendship through the mutual grief they shared.
“He’ll learn soon enough.” I laughed and Sam joined in.
We rounded the corner and approached the school gates. The dark metal towered over us set in huge stone walls. Red brick buildings clustered together the other side of the gates.
We walked through; up the steps and down the corridor to get to our form room. It was bright and colourful, the walls plastered with sugar paper and posters. Blue lockers lined the far wall and we headed to them to switch our books over and dump our lunches.
“Heya.” I turned to look at Aaron who had just walked in behind us.
Aaron is my other best friend. I’ve known him since I was born –our mothers were also best friends. Sam’s mum, my mum and Aaron’s mum made quite a group!
“Hi, how was your weekend?” I asked and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Great – our team won football yesterday so we’re in the finals baby!” I laughed and Sam slammed her locker shut, making it rattle and crash.
“Did you revise for the English test?” she asked. Aaron’s face immediately looked sheepish.
“We have an English exam today?” His face slipped into a guilty grin. “Oops.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Smooth move nimrod. This exam counts for more than half our final grade. Idiot – if you flunk, you’re stuck.”
“Oops,” Aaron trailed off, scuffing his shoe against the carpet. His shaggy surfer’s blond hair flopped over his bright blue eyes as he looked down, his tie very short and askew.
Our form tutor Miss Kenston entered the room at that minute and we quickly rushed to our seats.
“Everybody please get out something constructive to do please,” she called and I pulled out a book from my bag, glad that I could have a chance to relax for half an hour.
As I was getting stuck into a key section, the door opened and a tall, dark haired boy walked in. His skin was toned slightly olive and his eyes were a deep, thoughtful brown.
I looked up and clocked his appearance with interest. He was gorgeous – mysterious and good looking. I tried to fight a smile as Sam turned round in the seat in front of me and mouthed He’s really fit!
Miss Kenston turned him to face the class.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Blaze Roberts. He’s just joined the school today and I expect everyone to make him feel very welcome.” She pointed to a seat at the back of the class, two down from me. “There’s a seat there for you.”
Blaze nodded his thanks and walked across the room. As he passed me I got a slight smell of washing powder and mint. I breathed it in – it was a nice smell. Clean and fresh.
I couldn’t concentrate on my book again; the fascination of having a new member of the class seemed to be affecting everyone. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and realised with a start that he was doing the same to me. I blushed and sat tensely . The minutes dragged by and I prayed for the bell to ring. Finally it did and I gratefully packed my things away. I needed to clear my head.
“So...” Aaron came up behind me and slung his arm across my shoulders. I dropped one of them so that his arm slipped off again.
“So what?” I asked, holding my art folder tight to my chest.
“You still free to come over Saturday night?” he asked. “My parents are so glad that you could help out.”
“Sure, no problem. Waitressing right?”
“Yup. Be smart though and wear heals; it’s my Dad’s conference and he wants to show us all off.”
I nodded and stopped to wait for Sam who was catching up
“Cool then – I’ll catch you later.”
“See you.” Sam came up and threw me a sympathetic glance.
“Is he still flirting with you?” she guessed, seeing my guarded expression. I nodded seriously.
“He can’t help himself. I wish he’d give me some space. I mean, he’s one of my best friends but he’s just so...clingy. It’s so frustrating.”
“Don’t worry honey – it’ll all sort itself out for sure.”
I smiled gratefully and made my way to my first lesson.
I couldn’t concentrate all morning. My art project went wrong and I worked through my English exam mechanically, barely noticing what I was writing down. My head was full of thoughts: Aaron, Sam, the English exam, Blaze...
I wondered again about the new guy. It would be difficult for him – he’d turned up right in the middle of the school year and we were halfway through the work for our exams. It seemed like a strange and awkward time to change schools, but I didn’t question it further.
The day crawled by slowly, each hour seeming to take three or ten. I was extremely relieved when the bell rang for lunch.
I was walking down one of the quiet corridors to go back to the form room when someone crashed into me from around the corner. I immediately dropped my books that I had been carrying onto the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I dropped to my knees and tried to collect them all together before I blocked the corridor up.
“No, it was my fault.” The person bent down and helped me collect them into a pile. Pushing my hair out of my face, I finally looked up to see who I had crashed into. With a shock, I realised it was Blaze.
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” I stuck out one hand, the other clutching my pile of books. A small smile tugged on the edges of him lips.
“Blaze.” He shook my hand and I stood up again.
“Sorry, I was in such a dream world; away with the fairies!” I babbled then bit my lip in embarrassment. So not cool Rachel I thought.
“That’s alright, I wasn’t concentrating either. Too busy looking at this.” He held up a map of the school in one hand.
“Where are you headed to? I can help, if you want.”
The smile tugged upwards further into a grin, revealing two sets of perfectly white teeth.
“Thanks – I was actually heading back to the form room, but I got a bit lost.” His smile was sheepish and made my heart stutter.
“That’s good - I was just going there myself.” I pointed a hand out in the direction he had come from. “Shall we?”
We walked down the corridors for a few metres when suddenly there was a sharp sound of someone running behind us.
“Rachel!” I turned at the voice and saw to my surprise Mrs Richards the deputy head calling down the corridor. Mrs Richards has been a close friend of my family for years because she and my Mum were friends for a long time. After Mum died, Mrs Richards helped my Dad look after me and helped us around the house with cooking and cleaning. Her face was stern and although she was trying to hide it, I could see bitter disappointment there too.
“Rachel, can I have a word?” Mrs Richards said and threw a brief apologetic smile in Blaze’s direction.
“I’m sorry Mr Roberts, but I’m afraid you’ll have to find your way on your own.” Mrs Richards strode determinedly off. I turned back to Blaze, shrugged my shoulders and mouthed sorry to him. He smiled back, but his brow was creased in concern.
I followed Mrs Richards back down the corridors to her office. Walking around her desk she stood by the window and invited me to sit down.
I sat, feeling tense and twisted my fingers in my lap. I hadn’t done anything wrong had I? So why was she not even looking me in the eye?
Mrs Richards opened the window wide and a light breeze drifted in and moved the papers on her desk. She didn’t say anything and continued to stare out the window. The silence was awkward and stretched on endlessly.
“Erm...” My voice after the silence seemed very loud even though I barely whispered. “What exactly is this about?”
Mrs Richards breathed out heavily and turned to face me. She looked over to her chair and sat down, steepling her fingers and regarding me seriously. Her eyes were cold but I resisted the urge to look away.
“Rachel.” She shuffled the papers on her desk, making the corners line up. “It seems...that you’ve, well...been accused of cheating on your English exam.”
My mouth fell open. “What...?”
Mrs Richards held up a hand. “Marcie Coleman has accused you of copying her answers.”
I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my teeth together tightly.
Marcie Coleman was a class A bully. She was beautiful, she was rich but she had a personality of a cold, wet fish. With a new boyfriend every week, I was surprised there were any left for her. But yet all of them still tried desperately to be her next choice. Marcie had a way of manipulating people like no-one else and she and her friends had endless victims.
It seemed I was next in line.
Because in English that day it had in fact been Marcie copying off of me. I had glared at her throughout it and tried to shield my answers with my arm but she had quietly yanked it back to reveal the words underneath.
“I didn’t!” I gasped, shocked at this sudden turn of events. “I studied all weekend for this exam, why would I need to cheat?”I felt anger building up inside me like hot lava, but I pushed it down.
“I’m afraid your answers beg to differ – they’re exactly the same.” She held up two papers, one containing my handwriting and the other Marcie’s swirling print.
“But she copied off me!” My voice rose in tone, but at Mrs Richards’ warning look I tried to calm myself down.
At that moment, Marcie herself strode into the room. Her hair was bleach blonde and straightened and her skirt rolled up so high it barely covered her bum.
Marcie’s mouth clamped open and shut noisily as she chewed on a piece of gum.
“’Sup,” she drawled and strutted across the room to slumped in a chair.
“Look at her!” I pointed firmly in Marcie’s direction, my eyes taking in her appearance.”I’m a straight A student and she’s a plastic Barbie doll with nothing better to do then make everybody’s life a misery. Who do you think is more likely to cheat in an exam?”
Even though I couldn’t feel it, I noticed that the wind had picked up. Some of Mrs Richards’ papers were moving around on their own. But I tried to ignore it and attempted to squash down the rising lava in my stomach.
Marcie leant forward, one hand over her heart and her expression one of shocked innocence. “You think I’d cheat?” she gasped theatrically. “I’m hurt Rachel. That’s pretty low from someone like yourself.”
The papers lifted into the air and started swirling around.
“Excuse me?” I spat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Marcie sneered. “Well you’ve had no Mummy to guide you, have you, you freak? Bet she was so glad when she could get away from you.”
I reeled backwards, feeling like I’d been slapped. The papers and larger, heavier objects swirled around in the air and crashed into each other. A stapler flew past my left ear and I ducked before it whacked me over the head. I felt like I was about to explode with anger. How dare Marcie say stuff like that to me!
“Marcie! Don’t be so cruel!” Mrs Richards’ voice cut through the argument and I could see that her cheeks were flushed with anger. She had been Mum’s best friend after all – Marcie wasn’t just insulting me. “I won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour – I’ll see you tomorrow lunchtime for detention. We’ll discuss the matter of the cheating later on but I want a word with Rachel in private now.” Marcie strode out of the room, her nose high in the air. I shot daggers in her direction as she left.
As soon as she walked out the room I let out a shaky sigh of relief. The wind suddenly stopped and all the things that had been floating in the air suddenly dropped to the floor and clattered on Mrs Richards’ desk. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. I suddenly had a massive headache and I felt exhausted.
Mrs Richards gaped all around her at the fallen stationary and muddled papers. “How strange...” She shook her head and drew herself up tall.
“I’m so sorry Rachel – I should have known better than to believe that you would cheat. Or that Marcie would try and pull something like this.” She walked around her desk and rubbed my back fondly. “But are you alright Rachel? I hope what Marcie said didn’t upset you to much. It isn’t true, you do know that right?” I raised my head and looked her straight in the eye.
“But how do I know what she was saying isn’t true? For all I know Marcie may have been bang on. Mum died when I was only three, I barely remember her at all and I only really know what she looked like from pictures. Maybe she really was glad to be rid of me...”
Mrs Richards smiled sadly, but determinedly. “I know that what Marcie said holds no truth what so ever. Your Mum was beside herself with pride when you were born – I’d never seen her happier. She always had a feeling that she wouldn’t see you grow up and was heartbroken. She relished every second she had with you and rarely let anyone touch her new baby girl.”
I smiled. “Thanks Mrs Richards.” I got up and then hesitated. “Is it alright if I go, or do you still need to talk to me?”
Mrs Richards laughed. “No dear, you can go. I know exactly who the culprit was. Marcie is going to be spending a joyful hour with me tomorrow – lucky me.” She winked and I smiled again.
“Thanks.” I got up and slung my bag on my shoulder. “See you soon.”
“Bye Rachel.” Mrs Richards threw me one last sympathetic smile and then I closed the door and left her alone.
The genre is a mixture of sci-fi/fantasy/action/romance...I like to keep my work very original and interesting.
So...I'm going to include the first chapter of 'The Myth Project' and you lovely people can read it...
I haven't yet worked out how to attatch word documents, so bear with me...I'm afraid for the time being you will have to read it inside the blog box.
I would love for you to make comments; positive or negative...but please be constructive and try to keep the bad language to a minimum...thanks...
beasle95
Chapter 1
“See you later Dad!” I called into the hallway as I walked out the door to go to school. I briefly heard his muffled response from the kitchen before it was shut out as I slammed the door closed.
The morning was warm, but grey. A soft wind rustled the leaves and made my hair tickle the back of my neck. I tucked it behind one ear and tried to stand tall as I walked down the quiet street.
It was a Monday and I wasn’t looking forward to going back to the normal routine of work and homework. I’d been studying all weekend for an English exam and was tired and stressed out, so I wasn’t in the best of moods.
Turning the corner, I walked up to a familiar Victorian red brick house. Ringing the bell, I heard it echo through and someone ran to answer it.
“I’m just coming – let me get my bag,” Sam said, flicking her long golden hair off her shoulder and ran back down the corridor to grab a scruffy backpack, which she pulled on. She called a farewell into her house and we were off.
Sam’s my best friend and we are sworn sisters, even if we aren’t by blood or looks. Sam’s hair is a beautiful wavy gold that comes down almost to her waist (she refuses to be called a blond). Her deep shining blue eyes hold no secrets and I can normally tell if they do. My hair is a deep brown that turns coppery red in the sunlight that comes just beyond my shoulders and looks very different. My eyes are also a deep brown that Sam says are like melted chocolate buttons. I’m not sure that’s a good thing...
But despite out difference in looks, we couldn’t be closer. We practically live at each others houses and have no secrets between us.
“Have you revised for the English exam?” Sam asked, bumping me with her elbow.
I groaned. “All weekend! I’ll be so glad when it’s all over. How much did you do?”
“Loads; I got so stressed out and annoyed about it, my dad started bringing me hot chocolate up. It was good...”
I laughed, feeling some tension leaving my shoulders. “That’s good then.”
“Oh my gosh, he is fit!” Sam stated and I looked in the direction she was gaping at.
A tall, shaggy dark haired guy crossed the road up from us, his ripped jeans and scruffy trainers immediately catching Sam’s attention. He was dressed completely in black; from his black jacket to black shoes.
“Hottie gothy!” Sam staged whispered and I elbowed her in the ribs.
“Sam! He’s at least three years older than us! No way!”
Sam sniffed in annoyance. “I know. And he has a girlfriend.” She shot daggers across the street as the guy greeted a girl on the corner and put his arm around her. “I hate her.” I rolled my eyes at Sam and changed topics.
We chatted as we walked; discussing everything that had happened since we last saw each other.
“So, how’s your Dad?” Sam asked, glancing sideways up at me.
“He’s good. He’s so much happier than he used to be – especially since he got that new job, and obviously since he married Sarah.” I smiled. “And since they had Daniel and Lily. How’s your Dad?”
“He’s alright too. A bit stressed out ‘coz Dylan managed to lose Dad’s car keys.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the smartest move; I mean Dylan loses everything! You’d think he’d learn after nineteen years.”
Sam’s older brother Dylan is a bit out of control. He does everything with complete and utter enthusiasm and often doesn’t stop to think about the consequences of his actions. Personally, I found Dylan hilarious and Sam was very close to him as well.
You may be wondering why both of us only mentioned our fathers. Well Sam and I are similar in other ways than personality. Both our mothers died when we were only a few years old. My Dad married to Sarah a few years ago, but Sam’s father never re-married. Since then, they both looked after each other’s daughters and have made a close friendship through the mutual grief they shared.
“He’ll learn soon enough.” I laughed and Sam joined in.
We rounded the corner and approached the school gates. The dark metal towered over us set in huge stone walls. Red brick buildings clustered together the other side of the gates.
We walked through; up the steps and down the corridor to get to our form room. It was bright and colourful, the walls plastered with sugar paper and posters. Blue lockers lined the far wall and we headed to them to switch our books over and dump our lunches.
“Heya.” I turned to look at Aaron who had just walked in behind us.
Aaron is my other best friend. I’ve known him since I was born –our mothers were also best friends. Sam’s mum, my mum and Aaron’s mum made quite a group!
“Hi, how was your weekend?” I asked and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Great – our team won football yesterday so we’re in the finals baby!” I laughed and Sam slammed her locker shut, making it rattle and crash.
“Did you revise for the English test?” she asked. Aaron’s face immediately looked sheepish.
“We have an English exam today?” His face slipped into a guilty grin. “Oops.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Smooth move nimrod. This exam counts for more than half our final grade. Idiot – if you flunk, you’re stuck.”
“Oops,” Aaron trailed off, scuffing his shoe against the carpet. His shaggy surfer’s blond hair flopped over his bright blue eyes as he looked down, his tie very short and askew.
Our form tutor Miss Kenston entered the room at that minute and we quickly rushed to our seats.
“Everybody please get out something constructive to do please,” she called and I pulled out a book from my bag, glad that I could have a chance to relax for half an hour.
As I was getting stuck into a key section, the door opened and a tall, dark haired boy walked in. His skin was toned slightly olive and his eyes were a deep, thoughtful brown.
I looked up and clocked his appearance with interest. He was gorgeous – mysterious and good looking. I tried to fight a smile as Sam turned round in the seat in front of me and mouthed He’s really fit!
Miss Kenston turned him to face the class.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Blaze Roberts. He’s just joined the school today and I expect everyone to make him feel very welcome.” She pointed to a seat at the back of the class, two down from me. “There’s a seat there for you.”
Blaze nodded his thanks and walked across the room. As he passed me I got a slight smell of washing powder and mint. I breathed it in – it was a nice smell. Clean and fresh.
I couldn’t concentrate on my book again; the fascination of having a new member of the class seemed to be affecting everyone. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and realised with a start that he was doing the same to me. I blushed and sat tensely . The minutes dragged by and I prayed for the bell to ring. Finally it did and I gratefully packed my things away. I needed to clear my head.
“So...” Aaron came up behind me and slung his arm across my shoulders. I dropped one of them so that his arm slipped off again.
“So what?” I asked, holding my art folder tight to my chest.
“You still free to come over Saturday night?” he asked. “My parents are so glad that you could help out.”
“Sure, no problem. Waitressing right?”
“Yup. Be smart though and wear heals; it’s my Dad’s conference and he wants to show us all off.”
I nodded and stopped to wait for Sam who was catching up
“Cool then – I’ll catch you later.”
“See you.” Sam came up and threw me a sympathetic glance.
“Is he still flirting with you?” she guessed, seeing my guarded expression. I nodded seriously.
“He can’t help himself. I wish he’d give me some space. I mean, he’s one of my best friends but he’s just so...clingy. It’s so frustrating.”
“Don’t worry honey – it’ll all sort itself out for sure.”
I smiled gratefully and made my way to my first lesson.
I couldn’t concentrate all morning. My art project went wrong and I worked through my English exam mechanically, barely noticing what I was writing down. My head was full of thoughts: Aaron, Sam, the English exam, Blaze...
I wondered again about the new guy. It would be difficult for him – he’d turned up right in the middle of the school year and we were halfway through the work for our exams. It seemed like a strange and awkward time to change schools, but I didn’t question it further.
The day crawled by slowly, each hour seeming to take three or ten. I was extremely relieved when the bell rang for lunch.
I was walking down one of the quiet corridors to go back to the form room when someone crashed into me from around the corner. I immediately dropped my books that I had been carrying onto the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I dropped to my knees and tried to collect them all together before I blocked the corridor up.
“No, it was my fault.” The person bent down and helped me collect them into a pile. Pushing my hair out of my face, I finally looked up to see who I had crashed into. With a shock, I realised it was Blaze.
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” I stuck out one hand, the other clutching my pile of books. A small smile tugged on the edges of him lips.
“Blaze.” He shook my hand and I stood up again.
“Sorry, I was in such a dream world; away with the fairies!” I babbled then bit my lip in embarrassment. So not cool Rachel I thought.
“That’s alright, I wasn’t concentrating either. Too busy looking at this.” He held up a map of the school in one hand.
“Where are you headed to? I can help, if you want.”
The smile tugged upwards further into a grin, revealing two sets of perfectly white teeth.
“Thanks – I was actually heading back to the form room, but I got a bit lost.” His smile was sheepish and made my heart stutter.
“That’s good - I was just going there myself.” I pointed a hand out in the direction he had come from. “Shall we?”
We walked down the corridors for a few metres when suddenly there was a sharp sound of someone running behind us.
“Rachel!” I turned at the voice and saw to my surprise Mrs Richards the deputy head calling down the corridor. Mrs Richards has been a close friend of my family for years because she and my Mum were friends for a long time. After Mum died, Mrs Richards helped my Dad look after me and helped us around the house with cooking and cleaning. Her face was stern and although she was trying to hide it, I could see bitter disappointment there too.
“Rachel, can I have a word?” Mrs Richards said and threw a brief apologetic smile in Blaze’s direction.
“I’m sorry Mr Roberts, but I’m afraid you’ll have to find your way on your own.” Mrs Richards strode determinedly off. I turned back to Blaze, shrugged my shoulders and mouthed sorry to him. He smiled back, but his brow was creased in concern.
I followed Mrs Richards back down the corridors to her office. Walking around her desk she stood by the window and invited me to sit down.
I sat, feeling tense and twisted my fingers in my lap. I hadn’t done anything wrong had I? So why was she not even looking me in the eye?
Mrs Richards opened the window wide and a light breeze drifted in and moved the papers on her desk. She didn’t say anything and continued to stare out the window. The silence was awkward and stretched on endlessly.
“Erm...” My voice after the silence seemed very loud even though I barely whispered. “What exactly is this about?”
Mrs Richards breathed out heavily and turned to face me. She looked over to her chair and sat down, steepling her fingers and regarding me seriously. Her eyes were cold but I resisted the urge to look away.
“Rachel.” She shuffled the papers on her desk, making the corners line up. “It seems...that you’ve, well...been accused of cheating on your English exam.”
My mouth fell open. “What...?”
Mrs Richards held up a hand. “Marcie Coleman has accused you of copying her answers.”
I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my teeth together tightly.
Marcie Coleman was a class A bully. She was beautiful, she was rich but she had a personality of a cold, wet fish. With a new boyfriend every week, I was surprised there were any left for her. But yet all of them still tried desperately to be her next choice. Marcie had a way of manipulating people like no-one else and she and her friends had endless victims.
It seemed I was next in line.
Because in English that day it had in fact been Marcie copying off of me. I had glared at her throughout it and tried to shield my answers with my arm but she had quietly yanked it back to reveal the words underneath.
“I didn’t!” I gasped, shocked at this sudden turn of events. “I studied all weekend for this exam, why would I need to cheat?”I felt anger building up inside me like hot lava, but I pushed it down.
“I’m afraid your answers beg to differ – they’re exactly the same.” She held up two papers, one containing my handwriting and the other Marcie’s swirling print.
“But she copied off me!” My voice rose in tone, but at Mrs Richards’ warning look I tried to calm myself down.
At that moment, Marcie herself strode into the room. Her hair was bleach blonde and straightened and her skirt rolled up so high it barely covered her bum.
Marcie’s mouth clamped open and shut noisily as she chewed on a piece of gum.
“’Sup,” she drawled and strutted across the room to slumped in a chair.
“Look at her!” I pointed firmly in Marcie’s direction, my eyes taking in her appearance.”I’m a straight A student and she’s a plastic Barbie doll with nothing better to do then make everybody’s life a misery. Who do you think is more likely to cheat in an exam?”
Even though I couldn’t feel it, I noticed that the wind had picked up. Some of Mrs Richards’ papers were moving around on their own. But I tried to ignore it and attempted to squash down the rising lava in my stomach.
Marcie leant forward, one hand over her heart and her expression one of shocked innocence. “You think I’d cheat?” she gasped theatrically. “I’m hurt Rachel. That’s pretty low from someone like yourself.”
The papers lifted into the air and started swirling around.
“Excuse me?” I spat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Marcie sneered. “Well you’ve had no Mummy to guide you, have you, you freak? Bet she was so glad when she could get away from you.”
I reeled backwards, feeling like I’d been slapped. The papers and larger, heavier objects swirled around in the air and crashed into each other. A stapler flew past my left ear and I ducked before it whacked me over the head. I felt like I was about to explode with anger. How dare Marcie say stuff like that to me!
“Marcie! Don’t be so cruel!” Mrs Richards’ voice cut through the argument and I could see that her cheeks were flushed with anger. She had been Mum’s best friend after all – Marcie wasn’t just insulting me. “I won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour – I’ll see you tomorrow lunchtime for detention. We’ll discuss the matter of the cheating later on but I want a word with Rachel in private now.” Marcie strode out of the room, her nose high in the air. I shot daggers in her direction as she left.
As soon as she walked out the room I let out a shaky sigh of relief. The wind suddenly stopped and all the things that had been floating in the air suddenly dropped to the floor and clattered on Mrs Richards’ desk. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. I suddenly had a massive headache and I felt exhausted.
Mrs Richards gaped all around her at the fallen stationary and muddled papers. “How strange...” She shook her head and drew herself up tall.
“I’m so sorry Rachel – I should have known better than to believe that you would cheat. Or that Marcie would try and pull something like this.” She walked around her desk and rubbed my back fondly. “But are you alright Rachel? I hope what Marcie said didn’t upset you to much. It isn’t true, you do know that right?” I raised my head and looked her straight in the eye.
“But how do I know what she was saying isn’t true? For all I know Marcie may have been bang on. Mum died when I was only three, I barely remember her at all and I only really know what she looked like from pictures. Maybe she really was glad to be rid of me...”
Mrs Richards smiled sadly, but determinedly. “I know that what Marcie said holds no truth what so ever. Your Mum was beside herself with pride when you were born – I’d never seen her happier. She always had a feeling that she wouldn’t see you grow up and was heartbroken. She relished every second she had with you and rarely let anyone touch her new baby girl.”
I smiled. “Thanks Mrs Richards.” I got up and then hesitated. “Is it alright if I go, or do you still need to talk to me?”
Mrs Richards laughed. “No dear, you can go. I know exactly who the culprit was. Marcie is going to be spending a joyful hour with me tomorrow – lucky me.” She winked and I smiled again.
“Thanks.” I got up and slung my bag on my shoulder. “See you soon.”
“Bye Rachel.” Mrs Richards threw me one last sympathetic smile and then I closed the door and left her alone.
Starting off...
Hi guys,
My name (for you to know) is beasle95 and I want to become an author. So I set this blog up to basically try and get a few more than 8 people reading what I write.
I have been writing for a while now...about three years properly...but I really want to go further and actually get some of my work published.
So, I'm going to be posting little bits of what I right, teasers and tasters of what I'm about and what I write about. You can read what I write (if you wish) and then you can tell me what you think...
So yeah, thanks...enjoy reading my blog!
Love
beasle95
My name (for you to know) is beasle95 and I want to become an author. So I set this blog up to basically try and get a few more than 8 people reading what I write.
I have been writing for a while now...about three years properly...but I really want to go further and actually get some of my work published.
So, I'm going to be posting little bits of what I right, teasers and tasters of what I'm about and what I write about. You can read what I write (if you wish) and then you can tell me what you think...
So yeah, thanks...enjoy reading my blog!
Love
beasle95
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