Please Please Please read and tell me what you think

Prologue

      The first lights of dawn found me wedged onto the window sill of my bedroom, which was just barely wide enough to support me. In my lap I held a book; A Thousand Days by Lucidya Reid. Though it looked like any ordinary book, this was anything but. All of my life this book had been present, ever calling to me.

      It was also the book Mama gave me the day she died.

I took a deep breath and ran my finger down the glittering yellow line that split the front cover of the book in half. On the left side of the line was a majestic gray castle glittering in the sunlight. In the distance was a rich brown stable, a horse corral in front. On the right side of the line, the castle was weathered with age, crumbling. The stone was black, the glass of the windows broken. Behind it was some sort of building, the roof gone. Around the base of the castle, on both sides of the line, were roses.

     Mama always loved roses, so it was no wonder that her favorite book had roses on the cover. When I was younger she and I used to save every shilling we could to go to the town garden once a year and spend hours in the rose section. Later, when we were rich, Mama planted her own rose garden. We spent hours a day caring for it, just the two of us. It was as we were weeding that Mama first doubled over with pain from the cancer that would, a year later, claim her life. Tears slid down my face as I remembered the day she died.

      We'd all been gathered around her bedside, just... waiting. Every few hours Mama would call one of us to her side. I was the last.

      “Belle,” her gravely voice barely managed to reach my ears, yet it still woke me. “Get me... the book.”

      I hadn't bothered to ask her which book she meant. Of course it was this one, the book I'd been asking to read since I was eight years old. When I got back I'd placed it on her lap, knowing she was took to hold it. She'd shaken her her head. “It's yours, Belle. It always has been.”

      “No, Mama, I...”

      “Please, Belle, just take it.”

      Struggling to hold back tears, I'd nodded and picked it back up.

      “You have to promise me something, Belle.”

      “Anything, Mama.”

      “Promise that you won't read it until your eighteenth birthday. Promise your dying mother.”

      Unable to speak, I'd only nodded.

      A smile had touched Mama's cracked lips as she'd slipped back into slumber.

      That was the last time I'd ever spoken to my mother.

      So much has changed since then. Devastated over Mama's death, Papa had turned to drinking. My siblings and I had done everything we could to keep the family business afloat, but without Papa there was only so much we could do. Within a matter of months, we were bankrupt. Only when we were very nearly bankrupt did Papa sober up. We sold everything we owned—except Mama's book—and moved almost entirely across the country to a small town called Sparrow's Nest. Papa got a job doing accounts for a real estate company, but it still wasn't enough to pay for all of our debts, so the rest of the family got what ever jobs they could as well.

      Which leads me back to my window sill the morning of my eighteenth birthday. As the sun poked it's first rays over the mountains I at last opened the cover of A Thousand Days and began to read.

Drake, the longer short version

The Puppet Master

Emily Browning

I woke to pain. Pain so intense it left me breathless and unable to think. I struggled to remember what had brought on this agony, only to realize that I couldn't remember anything.

Who are you? a voice asked, skittering across my mind.

I... I don't know. Who are you?

Edira. This is my body.

I wanted to protest her claim of the body that was obviously mine, but before I could I was overcome by a wave of memories. A whole life time of memories.

Edira's memories.

But then, who am I?

I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out together.

I heard a knock, then a door opening. “Edira? You feeling any better?” a voice I automatically identified as Mary asked.

“I'm fine,” Edira answered weakly, turning her, my, our head to look at her worried roommate. “I'm just sick.”

This is being sick?

No, this is being... she stopped, but I could feel her struggling to continue. Never mind. You'll figure it out.

What do you mean?

“Ok,” Mary said, not sounding convinced. “Drake is here.”

Fear scuttled through both Edira and me. Us, I suppose. “Send him in,” Edira said.

A moment later, Mary was replaced by a very tall, very dark, very handsome man. His shoulders were so broad that they filled the doorway. He had black hair he wore in a sort of organized chaos and dark eyes. Moving swiftly, he sat on the edge of our bed and smoothed our hair out of our face. “How are you feeling?”

“Sick.”

I frowned. Edira currently controlled the body, so it didn't show on our face, but I did frown. I felt unsettled, but I couldn't figure out why.

“You poor dear,” Drake purred, his voice as smooth as silk. “How long has it been?”

“Three days, five hours, nineteen minutes.”

Drake's eyebrows rose as though he were surprised, though I had a feeling that he wasn't. “You've been counting.”

But she hadn't. Edira hadn't known “how long it had been” until he'd asked.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice earnest. This, too, was wrong. Edira hadn't missed him at all. She wished he would die.

“I missed you too. Tell me you love me?”

“I love you Drake.”

No! I wanted to scream. She didn't love him! She didn't even like him! Why was she doing what he told her to do? Everything about this was wrong!

“I love you too Edira. Get up, I made reservations at your favorite restaurant.”

She tried. I don't know why she tried, but she did. Agony raced through us, making us fall back.

Drake's face filled with sympathy. “You poor dear, you're still in pain aren't you?”

Edira nodded, a whimper escaping our lips.

Drake placed his thumb on our forehead and said, “Be healed.”

Instantly the pain we felt was gone. Edira sat up and put our arms around his neck. He kissed us, his lips surprisingly cold. Now that I thought of it, all of him was cold, like he was made of ice.

“Get dressed. We don't want to be late.” Drake stood and left us alone.

Edira shuddered, taking a moment to still her rapid heart beat before she stood to dress.

What is going on? I asked.

Isn't it obvious? He's my boyfriend.

That creep is your boyfriend?

Edira sighed. He wasn't always a creep. He was once so... Edira trailed off, but memory filled our mind.

It's Edira's senior year of high school and she's at a basketball game with her friends. She sees a young man with dark hair and pale skin sitting by himself completely absorbed in a book. Though it's unlike her, Edira leaves her friends to go talk to him. The boy is sweet, though shy, and seems to glow from her attention. She finds herself genuinely enjoying their conversation, and eagerly agrees when he asks her out.

What happened? I asked.

Another memory flashed through our mind, quick and painful. Drake's face twisted with rage as he slowly and deliberately beat Edira until she couldn't move. Edira wondering what she had done to deserve it. Edira looking down at herself when he finished, shocked to see not a single bruise or cut anywhere. Drake telling her not to tell anyone.

Why...?

I was distracted when Edira stepped in front of a full length mirror and I saw our body for the first time. We were of an average height and bone thin. Our hair was an unnatural shade of black—the exact same shade as Drake's—and very long. She lined our blue eyes with think black eye liner, then slipped into a black tank top, miniskirt, and pumps before going to meet Drake in the front room of our apartment. “I'm ready,” she said with a smile.

“And you look like a dream. Come on, love.”

Edira tucked us under Drake's arm, snuggling against his rock hard side. I shuddered, wishing he would go away. He made our skin crawl, the son of a...

Stop, he's not that bad. We love him, Edira interrupted me.

Why do you let him control you?

I don't, silly. He loves me and I love him.

This was not the same girl I had talked to before Drake came along.

Sitting in his car, Drake took our hand in his. “Did you make any new friends?”

“No. I've been sick in bed.”

What about me?

You're my sister, not my friend.

You weren't sick.

Another memory; Drake carried Edira after the most recent beating, setting her in bed. “You're sick, Edira. If anyone asks, you're sick. I'll see you when you've learned your lesson.”

What was the lesson?

I don't know, but I must have learned it.

We arrived at some fancy restaurant that I didn't bother to catch the name of. Drake opened the car door for us and tucked us back under his arm. When we were seated and looking at the menu, Drake said, “Get a salad, you've put on some weight.”

We're not fat, I protested, looking at the jutting bone of our wrist.

Yes we are, Edira answered, but there was something off about her tone, something... forced.

“And drink water,” Drake continued.

Edira merely nodded and did as he wanted. The weirdest thing was, she wanted it too. Once Drake said she wanted something, she legitimately did want it, even if she'd been thinking of something else before. I felt oddly like he was controlling her, like a puppet master. But... that wasn't possible, was it? I'd only been “born” that morning, but I had access to all of Edira's memories. I knew it wasn't normal for a man to have so much power over his girlfriend. Could a human literally force another human to do something?

Was Drake human?

“Wipe your mouth off, you look like a slob.”

Edira clenched our hand in our lap, shame burning in our cheeks, but otherwise she didn't move.

“Edira, wipe you mouth off.”

Now our hand rose, wiping away what ever it was that bothered him.

After dinner, Drake drove back to his place. Edira sighed mentally as she got out of the car and followed him up the steps. If there's some way for you to... to go to sleep or something—to turn yourself off—I'd do it. This wont be pleasant.

What wont?

Memories rushed through me, making me cringe. I closed my internal eyes and willed myself into oblivion.

* * *

I woke to pain. A lot more pain than I'd been in the last time I woke up. Edira was a quivering lump somewhere in the back of our mind, leaving me to figure out what had happened on my own. We lay stark naked in Drake's bed, blissfully alone. And, I was surprised to see, we were bleeding. Cuts criss-crossed up our arms, across our chest and stomach, and down our legs. All were still oozing slowly, leaving us faint. What the h...

Drake walked into the room before I could finish my thought. Like me, he was completely naked. Unlike me, he seemed... stronger somehow. I found myself staring at his chest, which glistened oddly in the dim light. He sneered at me. “Get your fill you lustful whore.”

We're the whore? I asked Edira. I doubt this was your idea.

Drake's thumb pressed against my forehead. “Be healed.” All the cuts vanished, but we still felt weak. “Get up, slut.”

I expected to feel the tug to obey that always came when he gave Edira an order, but I didn't. We continued to lay on the bed, gazing up at him.

Furry flashed in his eyes. “Get up, Edira, you good for nothing wench.”

Edira regained control of our body, lifting us up on shaking legs.

Drake grabbed the back of our neck, pressing his lips to ours. His other arm snaked around our waist, forcing us against him. Just when I began to wonder I should go back to “sleep,” Drake shoved us away. “I don't have any more time to waste entertaining whores. Get dressed, I'll take you home.” Shooting us one last menacing glance, he left.

Relief making us weak, we looked around until we'd found and put on all of our clothes. We found Drake in his kitchen and he drove us home, the ride silent. He would not speak to us, would not even look at us. For me, this was just fine, but Edira worried that she had done something wrong. He dropped us off outside our apartment and we let ourselves in, going directly to our room and getting ready for bed. We still felt weak from what ever he'd done with our blood, and it was very late.

He controls you using your name, I remarked as we slipped into a pair of holey sweats and a baggy sweater. It seemed Drake did not care if we dressed as a slut when he was not around.

I know, Edira responded, obviously exhausted. I was hoping you'd figure that out.

Why didn't you just tell me?

Because I couldn't.

Do you know how he does it?

Yes. It's called name magic. Or at least, that's what I call it. Name magic gives its bearers the ability to control anyone by using their true name, the name given to them at birth. Generations ago, parents safe guarded their children's true names from this magic by calling them a different name than the one given at birth. Now we are fools, giving our true names to perfect strangers.

What's my true name?

You don't have one. No one will ever be able to control you.

Why did you want me to figure it out?

Because, as long as I live he has complete power over me. I could commit suicide, but that wouldn't really matter to him. But if I die and you live on, then he will no longer have control of this body. That will make him angry.

You can't just leave me alone.

Yes, I can. I've studied all of this before. I know what I have to do.

But... what about me?

You take over my life. Ditch Drake and regain everything he took from me.

What if I don't want to?

Edira sighed, lying down and pulling our blankets up over our head. Why don't we talk about this tomorrow? I'm exhausted.

All right.

* * *

I woke to pain. By this time, I thought that I would be used to it. Our eyes opened and looked around, expecting to see Drake inflecting our agony. Only Drake was not present. We sat up, trying to determine what was hurting us so badly.

And then I realized; it was not our pain, it was mine. Edira was gone, leaving behind a gaping hole of loss.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to lay back down and die with her, but I knew that I couldn't. Edira would have wanted me to get up and get on with her life. My life. So I did. I dug through her skimpy black clothing until I found a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater—neither of which were black. My face clear of make up, I pulled on a pair of sneakers and went to show the world that Edira was no longer controlled by Drake.

I ran into Edira's... I mean, my, roommate Mary in the kitchen. Her eyes bugged out from her head when she saw me. “Edira?”

I nodded, smiling tentatively as I pushed my hair behind my ear. “Good morning.”

“You... you look different.”

“Does it look weird?” I asked, fidgeting with the seam of my sleeve.

“No!” Mary was quick to say, “I've just never seen you dress like that. Did you and Drake break up?”

“Not yet, but we will, when I see him.”

“Wow. What brought all this on?”

I shrugged, looking around the kitchen. “I'm just tired of him controlling me, I guess. Where's the cereal?”

The relief emanating from Mary was almost tangible. She opened a cupboard, revealing all kinds of breakfast foods. “Would you maybe want to go shopping later?”

“I would love that, I don't have a lot of clothes that aren't black.”

Once I ate I drove down to the local beauty salon and got my hair cut and dyed back to its natural blond.

On the way back to my car, a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into an ally before slamming me into a wall. “You whore, what do you think you're doing?”

“I'm not a whore, Drake, you are,” I hissed back at him.

He backhanded me. “Take that back Edira.”

“Never.”

Drake's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “That stupid slut figured it out. Why do they all have to figure it out?” He swore, shaking his head, then turned back to me. “So what's your name?” he asked, pressing me between him and the wall.

“I don't have one.”

“Well in that case, you're of no use to me.” Drake took a handgun from his pocket, pointed at me, and pulled the trigger. Fire ripped through my chest, sending me into oblivion.

This time, I knew I would not wake.

Drake, the short short version

Drake put his arm around me and drew me into his side. I stiffened, then forced myself to relax. There was no need to fear him, no need to draw away. He could not hurt me, not here, not with all the people around us.

His lips brushed my ear. “Smile,” he said. “You're happy to see me.”

Joy bubbled up from somewhere inside of me. Somewhere wrong. “I'm happy to see you Drake,” my mouth said, turning up into a smile. I could almost feel the smile he offered in return and it sent a shiver down my back.

His hand gripped my shoulder, almost painfully. “Now, now, love, that's no way to act.”

“That's no way to act,” I parroted, somehow finding myself leaning into him. My heart fluttered fearfully in my chest.

“Good girl, now tell me you love me.”

I didn't want to. I didn't love him. I was so scared of him. How could I love someone I feared? And yet I found myself saying. “I love you Drake.”

Drake trailed his nose down my jaw line, making me shiver once again. “And I love you Edira. You're such a good girl. You'll meet me later?”

My stiff neck forced out a nod.

“Wonderful. I'll reward you for all of your good behavior then.” His ice cold lips pressed against mine, and then he was gone.

I looked around the crowded library for a moment, then put my head in my hands and bust into tears.

Bang!

This is not at all what I normally write. In fact, it's so far off from what I normally write that I have no idea where it came from. My writing club called it "creepy." I'm curious, what do you think? Is it creepy?

 Bang! The flash from the gun blinded me, or at least, it would have. I shrank back, making myself as small as possible.

“You can't hide from me,” his slurred voice rang out through the pitch black room. “I know you're in here.”

How, I wanted to ask. I almost did, opened my mouth and everything, but stopped myself at the last moment. How had he known where to find me? After all of these years, how did he catch up with me now? And why? Why did he have to reappear in my life when everything was finally going well?

“Come out, come out where ever you are.”

His taunting voice made me flinch. How many times had I heard those words from his lips? As children it had been a part of a game; his favorite game, though I'd never cared for it. Now he'd turned it into something sinister, evil.

Bang! The gun discharged again. A line of fire traced along my arm, nearly making me cry out. I managed to stuff my fist in my mouth before I could. I had to get out of here, had to get away, had to prove that he couldn't beat me. Not this time.

“Come on now Sparrow, you know I wont hurt you.” Bang! He laughed, shooting the gun off again and again.

How did I get myself into this mess? I asked silently as I slowly began to ease toward the door. What had I done to deserve this kind of fate? What signs had I missed, that day fifteen years ago, when I had first been introduced to this monster? Most importantly, how did I get away?

“Not even little birdies can hide forever. I will find you.”

My hand groped along the wall, desperately searching for the door handle. He continued to shoot at random through the room as he taunted me, trying to draw me out. I stopped listening, bent on escape.

An eternity later, my hand finally gazed the door knob. Escape, at long last I could get away, could...

The lights flickered on, revealing his face not two inches from mine. He grinned, his head cocking to one side. “Found you.”

Maddy

This is sort of a piece from a one of my books, but not really because I haven't actually started the book yet. I wrote this for my writing club, but it was a lot longer than I'd thought it would be so I never shared it with them.

I fidgeted, looking away. “I don't know that either.”

“She's not your daughter?”

“Madelyn is my daughter in every way that matters,” I said in a low voice, reaching out to take the hand Madelyn had extended to me.

“But you didn't give birth to her?”

“No. I am not her biological mother.”

“I... I sense a rather long story.”

Sighing, I squeezed Madelyn's hand, then released it. “Go play, Sweatheart.”

“I could tell him the story,” she offered.

I smiled and ruffled her arms around my legs, then ran off again. I looked at Nate. “This is a long story.”

“I have all the time in the world.”

Rolling my eyes again, I started to walk again. “I've always been a painter, ever since I was really little. Younger than Maddy, probably. My parents thought it was cute, at first. I never got Dad's opinion on it—he died when I was ten—but when I told Mom I wanted to make my living on my paintings, she laughed in my face.”

Nate winced. “That must have hurt.”

I shrugged. “It should have, but mostly it just made me determined to prove her wrong. I started taking classes at a local college when I was eighteen. One night, as I was walking home from my class, I heard a strange noise coming from an alley. I expected all of my reflexes to tell me to ignore it to walk away, but somehow I had to know what was making that noise, so into the alley I went.”

“And you found Madelyn?”

I nodded, a smile stretching across my face. “I found the most beautiful baby girl I had ever seen in my life, all wrapped up in a blanket. I looked around, but didn't see anyone, so I picked her up and took her with me.”

“How did your react?”

“She was furious, said I had no right to bring a screaming infant home with me. I didn't think that was fair, as Maddy hadn't made a sound since I'd picked her up, darling child that she is. Mom said if I wanted to keep the baby, I couldn't do it at her house.”

“She kicked you out?”

I nodded. “So I took what I owned and went to stay at a friend's house. Her mom had eleven children, and taught me everything she could about having a baby. After a few months I get a job painting a portrait and moved out. Maddy and I have been moving around ever since, following what ever job I could get. We stayed with my mom for a little but, when Maddy was older, but she tried to take over, and I couldn't have that.”

“That's horrible.”

I shrugged, watching Maddy run through leaves. “I've done the best I can for my little girl.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Never. I have never in my life regretted her. She's my life, Nate. I would do anything for her.”

“I know,” Nate said simply. We walked in silence for a moment, then he reached out and put one arm around my shoulders. “I know.”

I stepped closer to him, enjoying the warmth of one of the best men I had ever met.

Ready for Revolt

This is sort of a rewrite of a short story I did ages ago. It was in my head, so I wrote it down again

     The forest has always held a very special place in my heart. It was in the forest that I had my very first memory, the dappled sunlight dancing across my mother's face. It was in the forest that I hid when I first found out I was different. It was in the forest that I learned how to handle my new abilities to control myself. It was in the forest that he found me, in the forest that he had helped me return to humanity.
     It was to the forest that I went now. The first inklings of light had begun to seep through the atmosphere when I slid out of my sleeping bag and into the trees. At first I moved quickly--just to get away from the camp, so I wouldn't wake anyone up--but slowed down once I was far enough away. For a moment I stood still and breathed in the stillness of the morning.
     It amazed me how still the forest could be, no matter the turmoil of the world. Amazed and grateful; peace was exactly what I needed today.
     "Stressed?" a voice asked from behind me.
     I turned to see David standing a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets and leaning against a tree. I smiled just at the sight of him, this man who had saved my life more times than I could count. "Did I wake you?"
     He shrugged, his posture completely casual. "I was awake, worrying about today. I saw you get up and followed. How are you holding up?"
     My eyes strayed to the leaves above us. "Today an entire civilization goes to war because of me, how do you think I'm holding up."
    David's face was entirely too serious. "They're not going to war for you Elaine, they go to war for the hope of a better life. You just happen to be the symbol of that hope they've been looking for."
     "Yeah, I know. Still." A small laugh managed to escape my lips.
     Straightening, David came forward and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into the safety of his embrace. Once again he was saving me, taking the stress upon his shoulders. It amused me that he was always coming to my rescue. I was, after all, supposed to be the hero.
     "Elaine," David said after a long silence.
     "Yes?"
     "Don't forget to come back."
     I shifted until I could lean up and kiss his cheek. "I never do."

Now, just for comparison sake, here's the original draft of this that I wrote, which is, once again, from ages ago. I'm pretty sure I was a sophomore when I wrote it.

     I stood alone in the forest, leaning against a tree. I stared up at the thick green leaves above me and thought about what was about to come. I was going to lead forty thousand people in a revolt against a government that thought too well of itself. What was I thinking to agree to this?
     A noise from behind startled me. I launched off of the tree and turned, ready to attack. When I saw who it was though, I relaxed and went back to leaning against the thick trunk, staring up. “What are you doing here?”
    Ashton laughed quietly. I could almost feel his smile, though I wasn't looking at him. Once again I thought that I knew him too well. “What else would I be doing here?” he asked quietly. “I'm looking for you.”
     I rolled my eyes. “I told you not to when I left.”
     I felt his smile fade, almost like the air around me was suddenly sadder. “It's almost time.”
     I looked at him, frowning as well. “Ashton, I don't think I'm ready.”
     He walked over and placed his hands gently on my shoulders. “You have to be ready. The fate of all of our lives is on your shoulders.”
     I rolled my eyes again. “You're being over dramatic. Again.”
     He flashed his lop-sided grin that always made my heart flip-flop around in my chest. His eyes were deep green with gold flecks sprinkled through them. When he was angry, those flecks sparkled and flashed like lightning. Now, they looked dull and sad. I had known Ashton since we were three. We had always been friends, though we had gone through phases through the years when we were too cool for one another. However, we had always been there to support one another. In fact, it had been Ashton who had helped me through everything that had happened over the last few months. He had been my greatest support.
     Now his eyes were serious and sad. “I'm not being all that over dramatic. We need you.”
     I dropped my eyes to look at the dirt under my feet. “I know. That's why I'm so frightened.”
     Ashton pulled me into a tight hug. “You're not alone, Cassie. You've got all of us. You'll be great.”
   I thought of all of the people back in the little cabin thirty-two feet away from where I stood. Twenty people, people that I had known throughout my life. I thought of every person in any of the two thousand cabins we were using. Each cabin was five miles away from those closest to it. Some of them I knew, most of them I didn't. Each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Each willing to give up their lives to take back what was rightfully ours. Each waiting for the exact moment in time when we would finally fight back.
    And me: their leader. The majority of the people didn't even know who I was, but they were ready to believe what they had heard about me and help me do what I had to. Seven months ago, I was just another normal girl, living in a world that left a lot to be desired. Now, I was anything but normal. I was their leader, and we were going to make our world a better place.
     Ashton was my main adviser. Though almost no one knew it, he was their real leader. They looked to me to help them fight this war, but I looked to him to tell me what to do. It was Ashton who had chosen the leaders of each cabin, the people that would lead nineteen other people into war. It was Ashton who came up with the plan, and Ashton who figured out how we could pull it off. It was Ashton who had helped me through all of the changes my body went through and helped me to master my new talents in the least amount of time possible.
     “We'll pull through this,” he said now. “We have to.” He held me close to him, stroking my hair and rocking me gently back and forth, trying to comfort me.
     I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck. I was thankful for this moment alone in the woods, when I didn't have to pretend to be the fearless leader everyone else needed to see. To be able to admit that I was weak and afraid, if only to one person.
    We stood like that for a long time, just holding each other. I'm ashamed to admit that I was crying, but in my own defense, it was a very stressful moment. Finally, I pulled away, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “It's nearly time.”
     Ashton looked at his watch and nodded. “Yes it is. Are you ready?”
     I bent my knees slightly, flexing the muscles in my legs. “I think so.”
    “Good.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it out of his face. “Look Cassie, before you go, there's something I need to tell you.”
     I grabbed my left ankle with my right hand, stretching my leg out. I raised one eyebrow, but didn't speak.
    “You know I don't like thinking about this, but there's going to be a lot of fighting today. There is a chance that one of us will not come back.”
    I nodded, watching him intently while I grabbed my right ankle with my left hand.
    “So, with that possibility in mind, I would just like to tell you...” He paused, then tried again, “that um...” he paused again, “I...well.” He frowned, looking down at his feet.
    I smiled, realizing that he was nervous. I placed both feet on the ground, then took a step toward him. I placed a finger under his chin and pulled his face up to look at me. Laughing quietly, I said, “I love you too. I think I always have.” His eyes widened with shocked delight. Without giving him a chance to reply, I stepped even closer and pressed my lips to his. His arms circled my waist, pulling me closer to him.
     A moment later, an internal alarm went off in my head. I sighed and pulled away. “It's time.”
    He nodded, his eyes sad. He dropped his arms. “Make sure you come back in one piece. I don't want to loose you now.”
    I kissed him gently one more time. “You too. I love you.” I dropped into a crouch. Using all of the power in my legs, I launched myself into the air at a speed that made me dizzy. I rushed toward the tree branches, which parted before I reached them. I flew higher and higher, gaining miles quickly. When I reached the appropriate height, I slowed to a stop, floating thousands of miles above the earth. Mentally reaching within myself. I grabbed the supply of light I had been storing up every moment I had been in the sun for the last few weeks and pulled it out to encircle me. The result was a blinding light that could be seen from several thousands of miles in any direction. It was a signal to the forty thousand people waiting for it. A signal for the attack.

Blogging

As you can probably tell, I'm not a very good at blogging. The truth is that I am a journal writer, and not all that interested in writing a blog AND journal, I would just have to write everything twice and I don't think all that many people really care about what I do in my day to day life. And so the question I had to face was: what do I do with my blog? I don't want to just stop posting like I did with my last one, but I don't want to have to feel like I have to write about my life, because then I wont do it. Then, as I was writing a letter to my fabulous brother, I had an idea: why not take the awesome stories I'm writing in my writing club and put them up on the blog?
Anyone who has been following me on Facebook knows that I have been going crazy for this writing club I'm in now. It is amazingly fun and I love it. Every week we get together and as part of our meetings we do "fifteen minutes writes" where our club president sets a timer for fifteen minutes and we spend the time writing, then get to choose whether or not we want to share. I've also been writing other little things just because I find it fun.
Now, I'm not going to promise that all of these stories are going to be any good, only that I will try and find the time to type them up and post them here, on my blog. I'll also probably throw in a few stories from my life that I simply found humerus. Well, until that first story blog :D