Hey guys! This is Asma, the twelve year old co-blogger. And I’m trying out a little… experiment.
I’m writing a story and usually when I write a story I only write about 20 pages and then it goes bye-bye. But this time, I want to finish it, I want a complete story, and I need a little help. So this is how it’s going to work: every Saturday I’ll post a couple of paragraphs to a page of the story I’m working on.
And this is were you guys come in. Seeing as how you all are readers, and many of you writers, I’d be really happy if you could read my excerpts, and you know, tell me what you think. Tell me what you like about my story (currently title: UNTITLED) and what needs to be improved. Thanks!
You cannot escape me, boy. I get what I want, when I want it and no one can defeat me. My race has lived in the shadows for too long. Humans shall fear me and you will help me achieve this power. You will fight. You will scream. But in the end I will have you, for your blood is essential. And you’ll have nowhere else to run.
I drop to my knees, my head throbbing. It was happening more and more. The… voice wants me, the same way it had wanted my parents. My parents hadn’t fought, and they told me not to either, they said no matter what, it would capture me, but they were wrong – I had escaped and they… they had disappeared. I know I can’t run forever, soon enough, the creature would come, take me as if I was his. But until then, I will practice, each day growing stronger, ready to fight the creature, and live the life that is mine.
I feel as though I am living in an hourglass, each day the sand slipping, waiting for me to be taken. But I won’t. Each day I improve. I could fight with a sword as easily as I could walk.
I will be lethal.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” Darius asks, concern etched in his unnervingly light gray eyes. He is a year older than me, and my complete opposite. My eyes are the darkest shade of brown – nearly black. Night and day, we like to say. He is my only friend, the only one I can trust – and my unfailing trainer. Without him, I would never be able to fight in the dark nor balance on a half-foot-wide ledge. He kneels down beside me now, his silver hair glistening in the moonlight.
“No,” I lie. He worries for me too much.
“Why else are you awake?” He asks me, setting aside his sword. Tonight had been his shift, along with some other students. I grunt in reply and stand up slowly, my limbs trembling. He shakes his head and stands beside me.
“You should go, before the Keeper makes her daily rounds.” Darius says, looking over his shoulder. I nod and move slowly toward the rooms.
I have been going to the Academy for three years now. Boys of all ages attend the school. The school is divided into four large parts, the dorms, the classrooms, the mess hall, and the training grounds. None of us know exactly why we have to learn forgotten history and how to fight, but we all know better than to ask. The Keeper is extremely strict – if anyone is out after nine, he would be beaten and never seen again. We are to remain quiet at all times, the only time we really talked to one another was in the dorms, but even then we had to whisper and you could only make out tiny fragments of each other’s words.
Although we seldom talked to one another I am certain that I’m the only one who could hear this race of shadows. The ones that talk to me in my head. And Darius is the only one who knows about them. Each of the dorms has one shard of glass in the bathroom, serving as mirrors. I stand in front of the mirror now, looking at the ghost of a boy before me, hair dark, and eyes haunting. He is nothing more than a shell.
I sigh and turn away. I’ve always hated mirrors, showing you what you already know. I slide into my bed and stare at the bottom of the bed above me. A light snore comes from above. Kayo has been my dorm partner for two years now, and I’m glad that he is. He’s always smiling and trying to make small talk with everyone, even the Keeper. Remembering that day, I smile and close my eyes.