So, hi.
To those of Ты who don't know me, my name is Josephine. Ты can see me mostly hanging about the Герои of Olympus spot.
I write mostly fanfic on Fanpop (If Ты want to see my original work check out HousexofxNight on Quizilla), but my friend annabeth523 asked me to post this online so she could read it.
Basically put, this year, on the first of September, I turn sixteen. My goal is to have typed 100,000 words of a single story by then. I started typing on the 28th of December 2012 and I am just over 42,000 words in. I am now editing what I have written so far.
What Ты are about to read is the edited prologue.
Rating: The в общем и целом, общая book is aimed at teens but this small excerpt doesn't have anything too bad in it so I'll allow all age groups to read this. Seriously though, if I post the rest it is for older fanpoppers.
Genre: Fantasy, romance, bit of horror and gore (not in this part though), historical references which I will (hopefully) make interesting. And french.
So, that is about it. Please, give me feedback, CONSTRUCTIVE critiscisim, and all that. Enjoy!
Prologue
"You're going to be late for school!"
Claire Porter groaned and rolled over, tugging her подушка so that it was positioned directly over her face.
"Claire!"
The teenage girl in Вопрос brushed a stray blond curl out of her face and tried desperately to ignore her mother's incessant yells.
Unfortunately, Marie Porter wasn't taking no for an answer. Claire felt dread settle deep within her as she heard the determined sound of her mother's footsteps thud on the stairs.
"Claire, Ты have to get up, или you'll miss the bus." Marie poked her head through her daughter's door and glared at the stiff figure of a girl trying too hard to feign sleep and failing.
Claire stiffened, and gave up pretending to be asleep. "Um, since when do I catch the bus?" She questioned her mother.
Marie sighed and ran a hand through her graying blond hair. Her brown eyes, almost identical to her daughter's, glinted with an angry light. The temperature seemed to drop a thousand или so degrees, and Claire was grateful that she was still wrapped up in a duna.
"Since my car got trashed last night," her mother said.
Claire blinked her brown eyes a couple of times in quick succession. "What?"
Surely she'd heard her mother wrong. Willow Grove wasn't the type of town that crime happened in...Especially not car crime.
"Get dressed, get down stairs, get ready to catch the bus, and you'll see what I mean," Marie snapped out her orders - still clearly annoyed about the car - turned on her heels, and stalked back downstairs.
With a sigh, Claire lay back down on her постель, кровати and closed her eyes for a second. Resigning herself to the fate of riding the bus into school, she searched deep, deep within her soul for the courage to get her lazy butt off of her bed.
Failing to find any such courage, she reminded herself of her mother's most likely reaction to her playing hooky for a день - или until the car was fixed.
This thought - involving a lot of yelling and steam coming out of her mother's ears - gave Claire Porter the necessary motivation to get up and get ready for school.
First mistake of the day.
*
After making it downstairs in record time, wearing a wrinkled pair of blue jeans and a grey scoop necked tee that had the words ALL ABOUT ALLITERATION written across the front, Claire grabbed an яблоко and a breath mint from the кухня counter, tied her wild mane of dirty blond curl back in a messy ponytail, swung her bag over her shoulder, and made her way outside via the front door, locking it behind her. She turned, to walk down the driveway and wait for the bus at the end of her street.
And paused.
"Oh, God," she said. Her mother was right. The car was trashed. A complete, total and utter wreck.
Looks like I'll be catching the bus for a while, she thought grimly.
She walked slowly towards the car and assessed what, exactly, was wrong with it.
Scratches covered the sides like someone had repeatedly dug their keys into the beautiful, glossy black paint job. The roof was bent in, like a person who weighed an extreme amount had used it as a trampoline. The glass of the windows had fine lines running through them, like spider's webs. Some pieces of glass had fallen out.
The most horrible part, though, was the капот, худ of the car.
It was twisted, warped and burnt. It seemed like the claws of a great creature had torn through the metal and under it, shredding not only the hood, but the batteries and everything that lay underneath it.
This car certainly wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.
As Claire walked past the corpse of her mother's beloved car, she pushed the spooky claw-like marks from her mind, and focused on the fact that if she didn't hurry, she'd miss the bus, and her mother, cruel person that she was, would make her walk to school, even though it was a forty минута drive.
Worrying about making it to school on time was important. Strange marks on the капот, худ of her mother's car weren't.
секунда mistake of the day.
*
Claire made it to the bus stop just in time.
As she climbed into the huge vehicle, she flashed her student I.D. at the driver. He nodded at her in a way that said, find a сиденье, место, сиденья and sit down.
She hurried to obey.
Her gaze swept across the interior of the bus, and she noted every free seat.
There was one Далее to a bubbly looking brunette, two behind a group of loud, obnoxious boys - Claire was pretty sure she knew why no-one was sitting there - one Далее to a girl who's Музыка Claire could hear from the front of the bus, even though the girl was wearing head phones, and an aisle сиденье, место, сиденья Далее to a dark haired boy who was Чтение a book.
She narrowed it down to either the dark haired boy или the bubbly brunette.
The girl waved a hand at her in a pick me! Pick me! gesture.
Claire hurried to sit down Далее to the girl.
"I'm Claire," she introduced herself, and held out her hand.
"Keira," the girl replied, shaking the offered hand.
Claire lapsed into silence which Keira was only too happy to fill.
She only hoped that Keira's mindless babbling didn't involve any questioning, because she wasn't paying attention.
She was noticing the bus had stopped already, not even five минуты away from her street, and was mentally calculating how often the stops would be, and how long that would make the drive to school.
"How long does this drive take?" Claire asked, very aware of the fact that her mother had gotten her up an hour early.
"Anywhere from fifty минуты to an hour-and-a-half, depending on road conditions and how many people are actually catching the bus - how many stops he has to make, Ты know?" Keira looked miffed at the interruption.
"Ah. Okay," Claire сказал(-а) "Carry on."
Keira didn't need another invitation. She launched straight back into whatever monologue she'd been reciting before.
An hour! Claire commiserated. An entire hour stuck here with The Queen of Babble?
She decided that, in the afternoon, she'd sit with the quiet, dark haired boy; she'd rather take her chances with him then put up with any еще Keira-babble than necessary.
The bus pulled to another slow stop.
Claire Porter groaned and flung her head back against the cracked faux leather of the seat.
This was going to be a long morning.
*
There was only one word Claire could use to describe what she felt when she all but flew off the bus.
Relief.
или maybe thank-God-it's-over. Even though that's a sentence, not a word.
She hadn't realized it, but that bus had плавить, корюшка funky.
Claire loved fresh air so much at that moment, she seriously considered marrying it.
"Hey, Claire Bear!"
Claire whirled around and grinned. First good thing to happen all morning.
Lauren Sayers was standing at the front of the bus park, smiling at her through a large amount of red hair.
"Get your hair out of your face," Claire ordered sternly.
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Oui, maman," she сказал(-а) sarcastically, but she brushed the vibrantly colored strands of her hair behind her ears anywhere.
Claire applauded her. "Congratulations, Ты get a Золото star." she said.
Lauren stuck her tongue out at her.
"Put that thing back in your mouth."
She continued to stick her tongue out.
"Well, be aware that Ты brought this upon yourself," Claire informed her friend, whose green eyes were sparkling mischievously. "I have дана Ты fair warning."
Then, without warning, Claire struck.
She poked Lauren's tongue, hard.
"Ouch!" Lauren cried, but because her tongue was still hanging out, it came out muffled, and she somehow managed to bite it hard enough to draw blood.
Claire struggled valiantly to suppress laughter.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch, not funny, Claire," Lauren whimpered. "Hurts."
Blood was still seeping out of the cut. It had begun to overflow from her mouth and drip down her chin.
The колокол, колокольчик, белл rang.
"We've got to get to homeroom," Lauren said. From the sounds of her voice, her tongue had swollen up.
"Uh, yeah, no," Claire said. "I'm taking Ты to the sick bay."
"Not that bad," Lauren said, but to Claire, it sounded like she was speaking Swahili, или something.
"Yeah, Ты just keep telling yourself that."
"But we'll miss first hour," Lauren protested as her friend took her hand and led her down the hall to the nurse's office.
"So? I hate English."
"You Любовь English, Ты just hate Mrs. Steel," Lauren countered.
"Who doesn't?"
"Me."
"Teacher's pet!"
"Shut up."
*
They were, of course, late to first hour.
Mrs. Claudia Steel - the English teacher from Hell who couldn't be еще than thirty-three years old - glared at Claire and Lauren when they came in tardy.
Lauren was contrite and apologetic, but Claire was extremely pleased when Mrs. Steel's smug irritation shifted to just plain irritation when she brandished the note explaining the reason for their lateness in the teacher's face.
"Take your seat," she ordered curtly.
Lauren hurried to her сиденье, место, сиденья at warp speed, and Claire followed at a еще human pace, grinning from ear to ear.
“Stop smiling like that,” Lauren whispered to her as Mrs. Steel picked up whatever subject she’d been prattling on about before they rocked up and disturbed her class.
Claire soon discerned that she was informing the class of what Книги they would be studying Далее term – there was only four days of school left before midyear holidays.
Titles were listed – Pride & Prejudice, Antony & Cleopatra, Watership Down, The Moonstone, and Emma.
Claire zoned out.
But she zoned back in again pretty quickly when Lauren’s elbow jabbed her sharply in the ribs.
“Ouch,” she hissed quietly to Lauren. “What was that for?”
Oh, and any name ideas? I can't exactly call this 'the story that remains to be named'.
To those of Ты who don't know me, my name is Josephine. Ты can see me mostly hanging about the Герои of Olympus spot.
I write mostly fanfic on Fanpop (If Ты want to see my original work check out HousexofxNight on Quizilla), but my friend annabeth523 asked me to post this online so she could read it.
Basically put, this year, on the first of September, I turn sixteen. My goal is to have typed 100,000 words of a single story by then. I started typing on the 28th of December 2012 and I am just over 42,000 words in. I am now editing what I have written so far.
What Ты are about to read is the edited prologue.
Rating: The в общем и целом, общая book is aimed at teens but this small excerpt doesn't have anything too bad in it so I'll allow all age groups to read this. Seriously though, if I post the rest it is for older fanpoppers.
Genre: Fantasy, romance, bit of horror and gore (not in this part though), historical references which I will (hopefully) make interesting. And french.
So, that is about it. Please, give me feedback, CONSTRUCTIVE critiscisim, and all that. Enjoy!
Prologue
"You're going to be late for school!"
Claire Porter groaned and rolled over, tugging her подушка so that it was positioned directly over her face.
"Claire!"
The teenage girl in Вопрос brushed a stray blond curl out of her face and tried desperately to ignore her mother's incessant yells.
Unfortunately, Marie Porter wasn't taking no for an answer. Claire felt dread settle deep within her as she heard the determined sound of her mother's footsteps thud on the stairs.
"Claire, Ты have to get up, или you'll miss the bus." Marie poked her head through her daughter's door and glared at the stiff figure of a girl trying too hard to feign sleep and failing.
Claire stiffened, and gave up pretending to be asleep. "Um, since when do I catch the bus?" She questioned her mother.
Marie sighed and ran a hand through her graying blond hair. Her brown eyes, almost identical to her daughter's, glinted with an angry light. The temperature seemed to drop a thousand или so degrees, and Claire was grateful that she was still wrapped up in a duna.
"Since my car got trashed last night," her mother said.
Claire blinked her brown eyes a couple of times in quick succession. "What?"
Surely she'd heard her mother wrong. Willow Grove wasn't the type of town that crime happened in...Especially not car crime.
"Get dressed, get down stairs, get ready to catch the bus, and you'll see what I mean," Marie snapped out her orders - still clearly annoyed about the car - turned on her heels, and stalked back downstairs.
With a sigh, Claire lay back down on her постель, кровати and closed her eyes for a second. Resigning herself to the fate of riding the bus into school, she searched deep, deep within her soul for the courage to get her lazy butt off of her bed.
Failing to find any such courage, she reminded herself of her mother's most likely reaction to her playing hooky for a день - или until the car was fixed.
This thought - involving a lot of yelling and steam coming out of her mother's ears - gave Claire Porter the necessary motivation to get up and get ready for school.
First mistake of the day.
*
After making it downstairs in record time, wearing a wrinkled pair of blue jeans and a grey scoop necked tee that had the words ALL ABOUT ALLITERATION written across the front, Claire grabbed an яблоко and a breath mint from the кухня counter, tied her wild mane of dirty blond curl back in a messy ponytail, swung her bag over her shoulder, and made her way outside via the front door, locking it behind her. She turned, to walk down the driveway and wait for the bus at the end of her street.
And paused.
"Oh, God," she said. Her mother was right. The car was trashed. A complete, total and utter wreck.
Looks like I'll be catching the bus for a while, she thought grimly.
She walked slowly towards the car and assessed what, exactly, was wrong with it.
Scratches covered the sides like someone had repeatedly dug their keys into the beautiful, glossy black paint job. The roof was bent in, like a person who weighed an extreme amount had used it as a trampoline. The glass of the windows had fine lines running through them, like spider's webs. Some pieces of glass had fallen out.
The most horrible part, though, was the капот, худ of the car.
It was twisted, warped and burnt. It seemed like the claws of a great creature had torn through the metal and under it, shredding not only the hood, but the batteries and everything that lay underneath it.
This car certainly wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.
As Claire walked past the corpse of her mother's beloved car, she pushed the spooky claw-like marks from her mind, and focused on the fact that if she didn't hurry, she'd miss the bus, and her mother, cruel person that she was, would make her walk to school, even though it was a forty минута drive.
Worrying about making it to school on time was important. Strange marks on the капот, худ of her mother's car weren't.
секунда mistake of the day.
*
Claire made it to the bus stop just in time.
As she climbed into the huge vehicle, she flashed her student I.D. at the driver. He nodded at her in a way that said, find a сиденье, место, сиденья and sit down.
She hurried to obey.
Her gaze swept across the interior of the bus, and she noted every free seat.
There was one Далее to a bubbly looking brunette, two behind a group of loud, obnoxious boys - Claire was pretty sure she knew why no-one was sitting there - one Далее to a girl who's Музыка Claire could hear from the front of the bus, even though the girl was wearing head phones, and an aisle сиденье, место, сиденья Далее to a dark haired boy who was Чтение a book.
She narrowed it down to either the dark haired boy или the bubbly brunette.
The girl waved a hand at her in a pick me! Pick me! gesture.
Claire hurried to sit down Далее to the girl.
"I'm Claire," she introduced herself, and held out her hand.
"Keira," the girl replied, shaking the offered hand.
Claire lapsed into silence which Keira was only too happy to fill.
She only hoped that Keira's mindless babbling didn't involve any questioning, because she wasn't paying attention.
She was noticing the bus had stopped already, not even five минуты away from her street, and was mentally calculating how often the stops would be, and how long that would make the drive to school.
"How long does this drive take?" Claire asked, very aware of the fact that her mother had gotten her up an hour early.
"Anywhere from fifty минуты to an hour-and-a-half, depending on road conditions and how many people are actually catching the bus - how many stops he has to make, Ты know?" Keira looked miffed at the interruption.
"Ah. Okay," Claire сказал(-а) "Carry on."
Keira didn't need another invitation. She launched straight back into whatever monologue she'd been reciting before.
An hour! Claire commiserated. An entire hour stuck here with The Queen of Babble?
She decided that, in the afternoon, she'd sit with the quiet, dark haired boy; she'd rather take her chances with him then put up with any еще Keira-babble than necessary.
The bus pulled to another slow stop.
Claire Porter groaned and flung her head back against the cracked faux leather of the seat.
This was going to be a long morning.
*
There was only one word Claire could use to describe what she felt when she all but flew off the bus.
Relief.
или maybe thank-God-it's-over. Even though that's a sentence, not a word.
She hadn't realized it, but that bus had плавить, корюшка funky.
Claire loved fresh air so much at that moment, she seriously considered marrying it.
"Hey, Claire Bear!"
Claire whirled around and grinned. First good thing to happen all morning.
Lauren Sayers was standing at the front of the bus park, smiling at her through a large amount of red hair.
"Get your hair out of your face," Claire ordered sternly.
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Oui, maman," she сказал(-а) sarcastically, but she brushed the vibrantly colored strands of her hair behind her ears anywhere.
Claire applauded her. "Congratulations, Ты get a Золото star." she said.
Lauren stuck her tongue out at her.
"Put that thing back in your mouth."
She continued to stick her tongue out.
"Well, be aware that Ты brought this upon yourself," Claire informed her friend, whose green eyes were sparkling mischievously. "I have дана Ты fair warning."
Then, without warning, Claire struck.
She poked Lauren's tongue, hard.
"Ouch!" Lauren cried, but because her tongue was still hanging out, it came out muffled, and she somehow managed to bite it hard enough to draw blood.
Claire struggled valiantly to suppress laughter.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch, not funny, Claire," Lauren whimpered. "Hurts."
Blood was still seeping out of the cut. It had begun to overflow from her mouth and drip down her chin.
The колокол, колокольчик, белл rang.
"We've got to get to homeroom," Lauren said. From the sounds of her voice, her tongue had swollen up.
"Uh, yeah, no," Claire said. "I'm taking Ты to the sick bay."
"Not that bad," Lauren said, but to Claire, it sounded like she was speaking Swahili, или something.
"Yeah, Ты just keep telling yourself that."
"But we'll miss first hour," Lauren protested as her friend took her hand and led her down the hall to the nurse's office.
"So? I hate English."
"You Любовь English, Ты just hate Mrs. Steel," Lauren countered.
"Who doesn't?"
"Me."
"Teacher's pet!"
"Shut up."
*
They were, of course, late to first hour.
Mrs. Claudia Steel - the English teacher from Hell who couldn't be еще than thirty-three years old - glared at Claire and Lauren when they came in tardy.
Lauren was contrite and apologetic, but Claire was extremely pleased when Mrs. Steel's smug irritation shifted to just plain irritation when she brandished the note explaining the reason for their lateness in the teacher's face.
"Take your seat," she ordered curtly.
Lauren hurried to her сиденье, место, сиденья at warp speed, and Claire followed at a еще human pace, grinning from ear to ear.
“Stop smiling like that,” Lauren whispered to her as Mrs. Steel picked up whatever subject she’d been prattling on about before they rocked up and disturbed her class.
Claire soon discerned that she was informing the class of what Книги they would be studying Далее term – there was only four days of school left before midyear holidays.
Titles were listed – Pride & Prejudice, Antony & Cleopatra, Watership Down, The Moonstone, and Emma.
Claire zoned out.
But she zoned back in again pretty quickly when Lauren’s elbow jabbed her sharply in the ribs.
“Ouch,” she hissed quietly to Lauren. “What was that for?”
Oh, and any name ideas? I can't exactly call this 'the story that remains to be named'.
Authors note: okay what's this story mostly is about is. That who ever gets bitten by a vampire. Leaves a scar of a звезда on the palm of their hand. Ты might be thinking what? These are different vampires. With different gifts.
Scarlet's P.O.V
I woke up. The sun filling half the room.i lived In a small town. With little shops here ad their. It is always dark and gloomy. Rarely sun. I woke up getting dressed in my out-fit link. I walked out the door sighing. Gosh I was exhausted. I was. Looking at the звезда on my hand. Why why did I get bitten. Why me. Anyways I got my things and headed to school.
Scarlet's P.O.V
I woke up. The sun filling half the room.i lived In a small town. With little shops here ad their. It is always dark and gloomy. Rarely sun. I woke up getting dressed in my out-fit link. I walked out the door sighing. Gosh I was exhausted. I was. Looking at the звезда on my hand. Why why did I get bitten. Why me. Anyways I got my things and headed to school.
He creeps through the alley ways
Forever, perhaps
All in search
Of a few meaningless scraps
Paws scared, мех stained
Mourning over
What his сердце once contained
воротник torn, soul lost
Forever wandering
On the ground of frost
Memories will never fade
For his closest companion
And master for life, betrayed
Kicked on the streets
Forced to live
With the night's beasts
Wanders and wonders
Hiding in the shadows
From the night's thunders
Forgive and forget
They always say
But that thought doesn't enter the mind of this stray
Hoping one день a new master would come
But alas, that is seldom
As days go by, and nights linger
He hopes and prays
For his soul and body
To part ways
For the pain is torture
And the future is bleak
Shunned from the world
Known as a freak
When, oh when, will the world learn?
How would they feel if the tides were turned?
Forever, perhaps
All in search
Of a few meaningless scraps
Paws scared, мех stained
Mourning over
What his сердце once contained
воротник torn, soul lost
Forever wandering
On the ground of frost
Memories will never fade
For his closest companion
And master for life, betrayed
Kicked on the streets
Forced to live
With the night's beasts
Wanders and wonders
Hiding in the shadows
From the night's thunders
Forgive and forget
They always say
But that thought doesn't enter the mind of this stray
Hoping one день a new master would come
But alas, that is seldom
As days go by, and nights linger
He hopes and prays
For his soul and body
To part ways
For the pain is torture
And the future is bleak
Shunned from the world
Known as a freak
When, oh when, will the world learn?
How would they feel if the tides were turned?