GENIUS HOUR TWO; the creepy girl in the woods

GENIUS HOUR TWO; when everything went to Tartarus

XXXXX

The smoke rose above the trees in a warning.

Tatum and I examined it carefully, having scouted ahead. “Think the others can see it?” He asked me.

“I think that’s the least of our worries,” I tapped my fingers thoughtfully against my chin. “I’m more concerned with who started it.”

“You think one of the teams did it?”

I turned my gaze to him, surprised. “Don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking that it was caused by lightning or something. There was that storm last night on the train.”

“Nethertheless, I think we should steer clear of it for now.”

“Could the groups be that far ahead?” His eyebrows furrowed. “We just barely got back into the woods.”

I looked at the smoke thoughtfully. “It’s….possible.” I said slowly, “so for now, let’s just keep going. We need to steer clear of that fire though; if the woods catch, we’re screwed.”

“I agree.”

I nodded, a thought coming to mind. I sat my backpack on the ground and started to rummage through it. “What are you looking for?” Tatum stood over me, eyebrows furrowed.

“The map,” I said. “I’ve kept track of exactly where we are, based on the miles we walk a day. I need to check something.”

He didn’t say anything as I unrolled it across my knees, taking out my pen. Doing a few calculations in my head and glancing at the compass, I guess where we were. “It’s what I thought.” I looked up at him. “The smoke is coming from a disaster zone.”

His eyes narrowed, “what?”

I leaned back on my haunches. “I know. Another group went to one and obviously something went wrong.”

“Should we go take a look?”

Someone stumbled out of the trees and Tatum’s gun was out of his holster and trained on the person. It was a girl; she had a slightly crazed look to her eyes and patches of her hair were missing. The remaining locks looked as if it had been burned into clumps around her skull. Nasty scabs covered her skin.

“Please don’t shoot,” her voice was raspy as she threw her hands in front of her face. Her movements were jerky.

“Who are you.”

“I’m from group ten,” She said.

I glanced at Tatum, then back to her. “Is your the group that started the fire?”

She nodded. “Yes. The rest of them are gone. I will be soon.”

“What do you mean?” I rolled up the map and stuffed into my back before standing. “Did the fire kill them?”

She shook her head. “The fire was started on accident; the place released a chemical on us.”

Tatum raised the gun slightly, casting a concerned look my way. “A chemical? That does what, exactly?”

“It made us all sick.” She started to cough, horrible hacking sounds. She spit blood onto the ground before straightening up. She wiped her mouth on the pale skin of her arm. “Some of us were okay for a while. They started attacking each other like rabid animals.

“They’re...eating each other.” She started to shake. “We all got it,” her voice took on a crazed note, “even me. I’m going to be a monster soon.”

“How many are left?” I asked, trying to snap her out of her weird mood.

Her fever induced eyes flashed to my face. “There’s at least three more. They’re after me. They’ll be here soon.”

Tatum’s gaze locked in on my panicked one. “We need to get out of here. Now.” He lowered the gun, scanning our surroundings before turning to the girl. “Come with us.”

“No!” She screeched I winced. Her scream had probably alerted them of our location. “I’m infected!” She spit blood. “Kill me now and get out of here.”

Tatum shook his head. “ No. We’ll help you.”

She fell to her knees, her shoulders sagging. “Please. Show me mercy. Don’t let me become like them.”

He looked at me; his eyes were wide. I turned to her. “We can help you!”

Her shoulders began to shake and she started to wail. “Nooo!” Her head snapped up. “You can’t save me! The hunger is too much!” Her eyes started to roll around in her head.

“You just need to come with us,” I said as calmly as I could, trying to sooth her.

She flung herself at Tatum, cackling madly. His arm jerked up and he fired. She fell over, not moving.

“We should leave,” his voice was cold.

“You didn’t have a choice-” I tried to say.

He cut me off, still not looking at me. “Now.”

I nodded once and followed him back the way we came.

GENIUS HOUR; Porter wakes up

Genius hour post; THE END OF MY NOVEL

Epilogue

Porter's head hurt. He had been given another injection a few hours ago, but it had worn off and he was awake again.

He was spread on a metal table, the kind they use for surgeries. His glasses were on a table next to him and he stood to retrieve them.

There was only one window in the room. He walked towards it, swaying slightly. He stopped and grabbed the table to regain his balance. When he was sure that he would not fall over, he stepped forward and peered out the glass.

Old buildings rose high into the sky. The streets below were dirty and full of people. They were dressed in rags and trying to sell things from stands off the side of the street. He seemed to be high up; the ground was far below him.

The door opened behind him and he turned to see a man with short black hair and was wearing a black suit. "Porter Rydell," his voice was clipped and crisp.

"Where am I?"

He looked out the window before facing Porter. "New Las Vegas."

"What?" Porter looked out the window and back at the man. "You're joking."

"I assure you I am not," he man smiled a little. "You were brought here by Barton. Apparently you're one hell of a medic and your friend is an exceptionally good fighter."

The events of the previous day seemed to wash over Porter all at once. "There was a kid with us. Tatum-Eric Steele Jr. He had just been shot. Is he alive?"

The man nodded. "Yes he is. But not for long. Unless you agree to help us."

"What do you want me to do?" Porter asked quickly. Tatum was his friend. He would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

The man smiled, "We need a medic to patch up the Glades after the gladiator fights."

"The what?"

"Gladiator fights. Things in Los Vegas are a little different than they are in Los Angeles," The man leaned against the table, arms folded over his chest. "Here we have weekly matches. Fights to the death. People love to gamble on them. The Lee girl has already consented to fight in them as long as the Dashner boy is alive and remains with her. Mr Steele will be returned to you three if you agree to the terms."

Porter absorbed the information for just a few seconds before he asked, "what are the terms."

He smiled. "Well Mr Rydell, Jared will explain those to you soon enough."

"And who are you?"

"Charles Mason." The man held his hand out, "I run the gladiator fights. And practically all of Los Vegas."

Porter took his hand and shook it firmly. "Now," he stood straighter, "Where are my people?"

THE END

Creative Non-Fiction

Dear reader,

I must confess, I have a very difficult time writing Non-fiction. When I write, I write purely for the magic. The fairies, the monsters, the wizards, I love all of it. When you take that away from me, I am a shriviling husk of a writer. Sure, I have some great stories to tell, but what fun is telling them if they aren't greatly exagerated and containing magic and impossible things?

Sincerly, 

A xx

MY ATEMPT AT A NON FICTION

Johnny Meyer grew up in Alaska, with six brothers. Their closest neighbors lived a few miles away, so they virtually stuck together. He happened to be the worst of the bunch; constantly causing problems and what not.

On his birthday, when he turned seven, he was given a brand new swiss army knife. "We had this old oak tree in our back yard, with a swing atached to it," he said, "My little brother Steve loved that swing. After getting my new knife, I went outside and climbed the tree, just waiting for him."

Sure enough, Steve went outside and began to swing back and forth and sure enough, Johnny started sawing away at the rope holding the swing to the tree. After sawing for a good two minutes, there was a snapping sound and a shreak, and sure enough you saw Steve flying over the yard, landing in a heap on the ground.

"My mom heard him yell and came outside," Said the Meyer brother, "She yelled my name and I climbed down the tree and handed over my knife without another word."

The swing incident wasn't the only exciting moment of Johnny Meyers life. He had too many stories to count.

A STRANGE PAST

"Grandma?" Myra's huge blue eyes looked up from a box she had been going through. "What's this?"

Grandma looked up to see a gold jewel encrusted key dangling from Myra's tiny hands, the lights catching the jewels and reflecting off like a rainbow. Grandma smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes making them twinkle.

"Well my dear," She said as she studdied her blanket she was knitting, "Come here and I'll tell you a story."

The little girl walked forward and sat down in front of her grandma's rocking chair, looking intently up at her. "Once upon a time," she began. "When I was young, I stumbled across a secret garden behind a wall at my home in London. The key fit perfectly in the door-"

"How'd you get the key?" The little girl looked up at her in wonder.

Her grandma smiled, "That my dear, is a very long story."

And so the story began.




ARIA HAD NOT BEEN OUTSIDE IN A VERY LONG  TIME.....

She had been in the manor, kept inside because of the rain, for at least a week. To a fifteen yearold who loved the gardens, a week felt like forever. She moped around the enormous house, trying to find something to do. After losing her governess on the second floor, Aria attempted to break into one of the locked rooms on the forth.

She successfully used a hair pin, jiggling it until the lock came loose, and the door opened easily. slipping inside, she began to look around. A glint caught her eye. It had come from under the bed. After dropping on her hands and knees, she began to search for the sparkle. Not regarding the several nasty things that couldve made a home underneith, she reached and felt for a second before she felt something. Grasping her hand around it, she withdrew a key.

FAIRY TALES

Aria was not a murderer.

   Her life was suspicious, that was for sure; daughter of a wealthy king, a beautiful heir to the throne, and she had a secret.

   She left her castle every night with her twelve sisters to dance.

   Dancing was forbidden in the kingdom of Gahmole; The king said that it was disruptive and unproductive, therefore it was not to be done. Aria was an amazing dancer and didn't care for rules; that was the first problem.

The second was that whenever the princesses disappeared, there was a murder. The body would be found in a grotesque way, with some type of clue leading back to the princesses.

But they never left the castle; so it couldn't be them.

Someone was trying to frame the royal family, and they were doing an excelent job of making sure that it was working.

Free Reviews

Does anyone want me to reveiw their stories? I will give detailed comments and an honest opinion. If so, please post the link of your story into my comments.

Thanks Babes!

A xx

WELLS HAWKINS, Gladiator

Prologue 



The lights from the arena could be seen from miles. They lit up the crumbling buildings beyond the walls, New York's once famous skyscrapers nothing but tattered ruins taken over by the dead. The lights glowed, brightening the city at night, making it difficult to sleep. To an outsider, the arena might be considered beautiful; To all of us in Ephrim, it was a death sentence.

A place where the living were taken to be sacrificed by the dead.

But the government wouldn't say that; oh no. They were just trying to find a cure, hosting the fights to earn money and support from the riches. They said they wanted to keep our loved ones safe from the monsters behind the giant walls. The government would never admit to the lies.

They want control, and they had it.

The arena reminded us of this.


Chapter One

I wasn't allowed on the roof at night; It was breaking curfew, and we could be fined heavily for it. But there was a place, behind a vent where I was hidden from any prying eyes. The shadows made sure of it. I watched as the Tanqilitors drove down the streets in their army jeeps, eyes and flashlights sweeping the road.

They passed the Rideout's and Davis's apartment, moving onto the next broken down apartment. I watched them for another few minutes before they passed my house, and then my street, turning in the corner. I let out a sigh of relief. They were gone.

I waited another minute, scanning the roads, making sure that all of the tranks had actually left before swinging myself over the side of the two story building. Using the old bricks as foot holes, I climbed down swiftly, swinging my body into me and Cole's room.

I landed with a soft thud, and I glanced over to see if Cole had stirred; he hadn't. His short, messy blond hair was sticking to his forehead and his tiny body was curled up into a ball on his side. He snored quite loudly for a three year old, and I couldn't help but smile at him.

I kicked off my tattered boots and climbed onto the small mattress next to him and fell asleep.



The music began in the morning.

The Unions Nation Anthem began to play all over the city, the speakers on the outside of each apartment crackling as the old speakers blared the song. I sat up, blinking. Cole was still asleep beside me, wrapped in a tattered quilt.

The song ended, and normally the speakers would shut off, but a male voice came booming over the city. "Good Citizens of Ontarian. I regret that I must announce that Gladiator Adam Mitchel has passed. He was attacked last night at his training center. We are attempting to track his killer. Due to the homicide, we will be having a choosing ceremony tomorrow. All people, the ages 15 to 18 will be required to attend. Thank you for your time, our deepest condolences from the Empire."

The line went dead.

RANT

I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN NOW BECAUSE I HAVE HAD A TERRIBLE WEEK. IF SOMEONE COULD GET ME A COFFEE, ADVIL AND STRESS BALL I MIGHT BE ABLE TO CALM DOWN.

Thank you.

Now, I would like to address an issue that has been bothering me PROFOUNDLY.  It has to do with the prompts.

When you post something about "Jealously", cant you write a story, or interview or something cute and clever instead of giving me what your definition of jealously is? I want to read something unique! Something that I havent seen before! Sure, if you dont like going out of the ordinary, stay there. We dont want you in our creative world.

(I will probably regret posting this tomorrow, but I'm in a terrible mood. My models would not cooperate AT ALL at my photo shoot last night. ugggghhhhh)

Quincy Fairing

FAIRY HUNTER: APPRENTICE REQUEST

(Information filled out by the senior Hunter: Jace Fairing)

Name: Quincy Drew Fairing

Height: 5"11

Age: 17

Birthplace: Houston, Texas

Hair: Black, messy

Eyes: Green

Master: Jace Fairing

Bad Habits We Should Be Aware of?: Curiosity and WAY too much confidence.

Strengths: Did football for five years, track for two and in excellent shape.

Weapon of Choice: Long bow

Relationships: Currently single. (will probably change)

Heroes: His big brother

Medical Pasts: As fit as a fiddle!

Ability to act under pressure 1-10: 8

Willingness to work 1-10: 1

Training: On the job by yours truly.

ANYTHING ELSE?:

He's a pretty good kid for the most part.  A bit vain, and not to mention ANNOYING, but when you need someone to help you, hes there. Smart and resourceful, but his curiosity gets the best of him most of the time. Kids a looker, too. Fairies think hes pretty. ...hehehe....comes in handy when we're trapping.

 

Stressing!!!!!

Oh my gosh guys I might have a panic attack..... THIS TERM IS ALMOST OVER AND IM GONNA BE SCREWED!!!! I just made up my grade in biology (It's a B now, i know how much you guys want to know) I am a little proud of that B because i dont understand a bloody thing shes saying. I kind of just fake it till you make it in that class........

 but now I've got a whole new level of hell waiting for me tomorrow in geometry!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHH IM STRESSING SO BAD!!! I have to go in to redo a test and get help on a few assignments. Its very stressful guys............

Maybe i should do some yoga

Or go on a vacation.....

Yeah i think I'll do the vacation.

BYYYYYEEEEEE


A xx

ps. Good luck on the term! I hope you have a stress free week unlike me (whom has to cry in her pillow every night....) Lol i love you guys and i hope your life is easier than mine!

Jealousy- A Whole New Level Of Stupid

Jealousy sucks.

     Especially when you're as handsome as me! I mean for heavens sake I'm Quincy Fairing! Attractive, dashing, smooth, top notch fairy Hunter! But its kind of hard to remember that when the girl you're interested in wont give you a second glance and is getting all cozy with the guy from the "twinkle toes traders".

     Bet looked beautiful as always and she knew it. She was wearing her black Hunter's jacket and combat boots, but her hair was done differently today; It was down around her face and she was smiling- smiling at the idiot sitting next to her. Almost all the girls in the room were watching me, but she only seemed to be interested in bozo over here.

     "Bozo" or "Tinkle Toes" was Ky Whiteside. And boy- did he think he was something! People may argue that "I think i'm something" but its different when you know you're hot and so does everybody else. Bet laughed at one of his stupid jokes and i felt myself scowling.

     This party was not going my way at all.

     Grabbing a drink of fairy elixir  i chugged it and made my way over there, the most dashing smile i could give plastered on my face.

     Let's see if Bet can resist this.

Fear: An interview with Carson, River and Gunnar

Interviewer (Ariel): So Gunnar, what would you say your fears are?

Gunnar: My name is Gunnar Bond; I have no fears. If you ask anyone else, they'll agree with me-

River: HA! You fearless? You CRIED when we got trapped by PIXIES! Fearless? That's funny! 

Carson: Be nice River. Gunnar has his moments.

River: When!?

Carson: *coughs* Can we move onto the next question?

Interviewer (Ariel): Alright then; Carson, what are your fears?

Carson: ...

Gunnar: Oh please. The guy hates snakes.

Carson: Yeah? Well you hate spiders. And Pixies. So there.

River: *Tries to hide laughter*

Gunnar:....

Interviewer (Ariel):....

Gunnar: So is it true you and Carson have the same last name? 

Carson:.....

River: *Clears throat* I think this interview is over.


Author's Note:

I wanted to try and do the "Fear" idea differently than everyone else. I figured that everyone would be writing a poem or story, so I thought "Hey, I'll do an interview!" I hope it turned out okay!!

A story of Courage

The light was slowly melting into shadow. The huge capital tower was black and grey. I starred up at it, wary. Lilly was in there; probably going through test after test... My teeth clenched in anger as I readjusted my blaster. It hung on my black belt, next to my throwing knives.

     "Dez," I said grabbing my buddies arm. He stopped and looked at me, one hand on the door of his truck.
 
     "Yeah?" He asked, his black hair making him blend into the night.

     "If I don't make it out," He started to speak but I cut him off, "No, listen. If for some reason I don't make it out, you take care of Lilly, okay? Get her out of there and keep her safe."

     Though he did it reluctantly, he nodded. I sighed in relief, letting go of his arm.

     "Okay; lets do this."
   
Ten of us were in the back of the vans, covered by boxes. We were sneaking into the capital as the vans rolled slowly up to the gate. Ten guards began searching the vans. as they reached towards the boxes, my men reached out and yanked them down as they let out a cry of surprise.

     They didnt have the chance to yell again.

     They were quickly stripped of their armor and we quickly dressed, as we drove into the building.

     This was my chance to save Lilly; I had to be fearless.

A Poem: I miss you

I Miss You
by: Ariel Storm

I miss you
I miss your blue eyes
shinning at me with love
and trust

I miss your tiny hands in mine
with the dimples on each knuckle
soft and pink
clutching my thumb

I miss your smile the most
wide and happy
full of laughter
and joy

I wish you were still here
my angel
I may not understand why you left
but I love you

Heaven is far away
but its where you belong
In gods arms
Safe and strong.

TO ALL THOSE WHO LIKE MY BLOG....(:

HELLO GOOD CITIZENS OF THIS WORLD(:

I am Miss A and I recently have had a lot of activity, and unfortunately I cant reply to all your comments, but I have tried! (: but I'm so thrilled that some of you have enjoyed what you have seen(: PLease visit again! BTW: I do take story requests(:

STORY REQUESTS ARE when you tell me you want me to write a story about you(: you tell me the general idea of where you want it to go, and if I like your idea, I'll write about it(:

So enjoy my blog(: I will also be posting about new books that I've read and comment on as many blogs i can(:
And as Porky Pig would say,

Well that's all folks!

Kisses!

A xx

River Golde stops in to say hi

Bonjour!
Hey I'm River and I thought I would let you know how things are going. Carson and I are still alive (surprising, I know) but Gunnar's off day dreaming about Luce.
So stay safe my viewers! Whether you are in a wintery hell or a paradise, stay safe!

~Commander River A. Golde~

Knights and Sorcerers/ by Ariel Storm

    CHAPTER 1/ THE EXPLODING MEATLOAF

      
  Today was going to be a bad day.

I had gone to bed the night before, officially deciding that I was going to ask Emma Reece to the upcoming school dance. She was one of the nicest girls at my school; not the prettiest, but definitely the sweetest. She had short auburn hair and glasses, with a nose slightly too big for her face.

Alex had finally convinced me to try, telling me that if I didn’t, I would forever be labeled a coward. Considering my pride was coming into question, I accepted the challenge.

And I really hoped that I wouldn’t regret it.

When I woke up for school twenty minutes late, I jumped out of bed, yanking out the plug in my alarm clock. I was surprised I didn’t hear it going off as I slept.

After pulling on a hopefully clean shirt and pair of jeans, I hastily combed through my short dirty blonde hair with my fingers as I ran outside. I just barely had time to grab a bagel and swallow my daily pill. My uncle made sure I shoved it down every morning before he left for work.

I barely made it to the bus, climbing on. There was only one seat open, and it was next to a small sickly looking kid. He was huddled as close to the window as his body would allow. His face was pressed into a thick, heavy book. I looked at the cover and read ATLAS.

Oh boy.

“Can I sit here?” I asked him, the bus starting to move, making me sway slightly. The kid ignored me, bringing his book closer to his face. Sighing, I sat down at the edge of the seat, trying to disturb him as little as possible.

The whole ride to the school I sat in an awkward silence, just starring out the window opposite my seat. I was relieved when we reached the school, but then remembered that I was going to ask Emma to the dance today. An uneasy sick feeling came over me as I walked up to the high school.

 I reached my locker, which was conveniently across the hall from Emma’s. I leaned against it, trying to comb my hair with my fingers as I waited for her to get to school. Looking down at myself, I realized I had put on the shirt I had stained at the barbeque last Saturday. I opened my locker, quickly pulling out a jacket to cover up the barbecue.

Emma showed up five minutes later, walking with three of her friends. Why can’t they ever be alone? I silently asked myself. I stayed there waiting for her friends to walk away. When they didn’t leave, I swallowed my fear and sauntered over to her, trying not to feel too awkward.

Her friends giggled when they saw me approaching. Emma smiled nicely at me, making me feel a little more comfortable. I squared my shoulders, trying to get some confidence.

“Hey Emma,” I squeaked, and then cleared my throat. Real manly voice there Carson, I thought. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.”

She made no attempt to move away from her friends, as I had hoped she would.

“Well,” I started, taking a deep breath, trying to relax myself. “Would you want to go to the dance with me this Friday?”

Complete silence. Her friends weren’t giggling anymore. In fact, they were studying their toenail polish, refusing to look up at me. My stomach churned suddenly as her face fell. Oh no, I thought silently.

Emma cleared her throat, “Actually, Carson,” She said giving me a half hearted smile, “I’ve already told Drake I’d go with him. I’m really sorry.”

I stood there for a second, a dumb look on my face. Her friends fidgeted with their clothes, obviously feeling the awkward tension. It took me a second before my brain could get my mouth to move, “Oh,” I said stupidly, “That’s great... I guess I’ll see you later then.”

And I walked away, my face flushed deep red in embarrassment.

From there, my day was destined to be a bad one.

To top off my normally bad luck, I wasn’t very good at staying out of trouble. No matter who did it,  I was always the one that ended up taking the blame for it.

            They say “the wrong place at the wrong time”, but that might as well have been my life motto. I didn’t try to make people mad on purpose; but I was constantly blamed for things that went wrong and was continually picked on. When people picked fights with me, I did my best to ignore it and walk away. But I had a short temper and walking away proved to be much more difficult than it sounded.

            Somehow, fate had decided that I was to be its enemy.

 And now, I was sitting in the school office, having been blamed for the current disaster of the day. Somebody had put a firework into the cafeteria meatloaf, and… well, you can guess what happened from there.

            When the principal asked who did it, everyone began shouting “Carson Storm!”

“Yeah! I saw him do it!”

Then a high squeaky voice would shout, “I did too!”

This did not help my already bad mood.

For heaven’s sake, I hadn’t even gone into the cafeteria that day! I had been avoiding Alex like the plague because I didn’t want to tell him about my humiliating rejection by Emma. So instead I sat outside on the grass and when the bell rang, Whoosh! I could hear my name being yelled by every student at my school.

            I guess my appearance didn’t help my situation; my dirty blonde hair was always messy and I had an incredibly sarcastic smile. In ninth grade I had been gangly, awkward and quiet, but then in tenth grade, my uncle decided I needed a confidence boost and figured the best way to do that was to get me interested in boxing. By doing this, my muscles filled in and then I hit my growth spurt.

You think this would’ve made me a bit more popular, like those kids on the movies, but there was no such luck. This only seemed to make people dislike me more. They saw me as a silent trouble maker, when in reality I’m really just a quiet mellow guy.

 And because of my horrible people skills and bad luck, I had been hauled into the office. I waited to talk to the principal, feeling uncomfortable as the receptionist watched at me with huge eyes, and I grew more uncomfortable by the minute.

            I was almost relieved when I heard my name called, “Carson Storm!”

            I stood, and shuffled to where the principal was standing, hands stuffed in my pockets. I walked past him, into his small office. It smelled like dust and wild animals. The huge head of a bear hung on the wall, almost looking like it was about to chomp down on whoever sat in the chair beneath it.

            I took my seat underneath the jaws of the stuffed bear. The principal walked around behind his desk, and sat down, so slowly that he looked like the villain in a cartoon.

He stared at me for a few seconds. He raised his eyes slowly, so high, that if he had hair, they probably would’ve disappeared by now.

            “Carson Storm,” he said slowly, “You are…aware…of your situation?”

            “Yes,” I sighed, “I was falsely accused for putting a firecracker in the cafeteria meatloaf.”

            His eyebrows shot higher, “Falsely?”

            “Well it wasn’t me,” I said, “So yeah; that’s what falsely means right?”

            He scowled, “I don’t like your attitude, Storm. Two weeks of detention. You may leave my office.”

            Accepting my fate, I got up, careful not to hit my head on the bear’s teeth. I walked out quickly, the receptionist glaring at me as I walked back to class.

           

The bell rang, announcing school was over. Fourth period had dragged on forever, and looking at the clock every thirty seconds had not helped the time pass. I was so happy to go home, until I realized I had an hour of detention.

            Groaning, I grabbed my stuff and left the classroom. The hall smelled funny, and I was unsure why until I passed the cafeteria doors. The windows had meatloaf splattered all over them, and I remembered that’s what had gotten me in trouble.

            I walked slower, wishing that I didn’t have to stay after school for something I didn’t do. I reached the room detention was held in and yanked open the door with more force than was necessary. I was a frequent visitor, so Mr. Payne didn’t look too surprised when I walked in.

 I sat down in the front, praying that Drake hadn’t gotten detention.

            My hopes were crushed a second later.

“Yo man!” Drake brought his hand up in a greeting. He had a huge afro; bright yellow pants, a foam finger, and was wearing a bright green t shirt that said GO ORGANIC! Emma said yes to this guy? I thought to myself, feeling my self-esteem taking a hit.

“Dude! You’re in detention too?” He asked sitting next to me, “What’d you get busted for?”

“Blowing up the meatloaf in the cafeteria.” I didn’t even bother to try to explain that I wasn’t the one that did it.

“That’s so cool man! That’s like, off the chain.” He said leaning back in his chair, his afro bouncing. His chair started to rock, and he toppled backwards. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was okay, but he popped up, a huge smile on his face.

 “Yeah, why are you in here?” I asked him, not really interested.

“For smashing a teacher’s mailbox,” He said. Then he went into an excessively long story about how he single-handedly took on the mission for his environment group to destroy the science teacher’s mailbox for not teaching about global warming properly.

“I mean, he was totally not cool, Storm. He gave me detention and like-" He continued on, talking about how he had gotten in trouble. I almost told him that the teacher could’ve pressed charges for vandalism, and that would’ve been a lot worse than detention, but I kept the thought to myself.

The teacher leaned back and began looking at sports illustrated, swimsuit edition as he chugged his Gatorade. Detention went hectic, kids throwing toilet paper and yelling. One guy was drawing a mustache in permanent marker on a sleeping student’s face. He snored and shifted, smacking his lips as the kid holding the marker sniggered.  

I quietly stood, and walked out of the class. Mr. Payne was too absorbed in his magazine to care that I was leaving, not that he had even cared if I showed up. I just came to the beginning, just in case a different teacher was in charge.

I walked out of the school and down the street, towards my house. I lived just about a mile from the school (I only ride the bus in the morning because I’m too lazy to walk), so I didn’t really have to worry about finding a ride home.  My neighborhood was quiet, except the usual booms that came from my uncle’s shop.

I wasn’t ever allowed in the shop, though I don’t know why. It was right next to my uncle’s house, and it always smelled like burnt marshmallows. It was large and grey and looked like a mix of a metal bomb shelter and a shed.

I’d lived with my uncle since I was four. I don’t really remember my parents, and whenever I asked how they died, my uncle would quickly say that they got sick. He always got really weird when I talked about them, so I quickly realized I’d avoid the subject as much as I possibly could.

I slammed the door, feeling the house shake as I jumped onto my couch. I heard a loud BOOM! and felt the house shake a little. I got up of the couch and looked out my window. The shop looked normal, but green was muck dripping off the towering windows, much too high to see when standing. I walked outside to make sure he was okay.

“Jim?” I yelled, pounding my fist against the door.

There were a few clatters and my uncle slipped out of the door, too quickly for me to see anything. He held his arm up as he coughed, his eyes watering. After choking for a minute, I pounded him on the back.

“Hey Carson!” he said, his eyes watering “What’s up?” 

I raised my eyebrows, “Just making sure you weren't dead.”

He chuckled, “Oh it’d take a lot more to kill me! So how was school?”

“I got sent to the principal’s office again.” I said, deciding to come clean and tell him.

He tried to look stern but failed miserably. He gave me a sheepish grin, “What’d you do?”

“I was blamed for putting a firecracker in the cafeteria in the meatloaf, but it wasn't me.”

 “Well of course it wasn’t you!” Jim said indignantly, “If it had been, you wouldn't have gotten caught.” He winked at me. “Besides, that’s amateur stuff! You would've come up with something much cooler than a lousy firework!”

Jim was more of a friend than a parent. He didn’t care what the school board said about me, and he let them know it! I think that’s why they stopped calling him in when I got in trouble.

“Come on,” He grinned, putting his arm around my shoulders, “Let’s get some take out.”

Authors Note:

If you didn't like it, tell me why. If you did, tell me why! This is a sample from my book and I hope you enjoyed it!