Shall we just say: I've written three stories. Well, some of three stories, and I don;t know if they're rubbish, or, if they're OK or good, which one to carry on with. I love critisism.
This one's sort of just a forming idea. I've written a bit more, but I just thought I'd post this much.
Fergus Smith stood at the bus station, waiting for the number ten bus. A few of the people from his school were there too. He leant on the wall behind him and pulled out his phone. Whilst his attention was fully on playing Sudoku, he never noticed something brush against his leg, only for a moment, and whatever it was, was gone soon after.
The bus stopped with an ear piercing screech, and the children pushed past each other to get a seat next to their friend. Fergus ambled along behind, still playing Sudoku.
“Hey, mate,” the bus driver, Trevor Wilkins said to Fergus.
“Yeah, hi,” he replied half-heartedly. Fergus took a seat next to a young boy, who was gazing dreamily out of the window. Fergus was still playing Sudoku.
The boy was considerably shorter than Fergus, probably a year or two below him. The boy looked at him through big brown eyes behind gl*censored*es.
“Watcha doing?” he asked annoyingly, peering over at Fergus’s phone, where the word ‘WINNER’ was flashing on the screen, and pixel confetti floated down to nowhere.
“Oh, nothing,” Fergus said quickly, putting his phone in his bag.
“You were doing something,” he commented.
“Well, it’s none of your business. Who are you anyway?”
“Philip Jackson. Why? Who’re you?”
“Just wondered. I’m Fergus. Fergus Smith,”
“Oh, that’s nice. You’re in year six aren’t you?” Fergus ignored him, finding the little boy irritating. He took out his phone again, plugged in some ear-pugs and put on some music.
“Can I listen?” Philip said. Fergus pretended not to hear, waiting, as the minutes slowly went by, for the bus to reach school.
Eventually the bus grinded to a halt, and, just like getting on, they all, except Fergus, shoved and pushed to get out.
“Bye, Fergus. Have a good day, mate,” Trevor said. Fergus nodded, smiled, and hopped of the bus. He looked up at the small school, and then at his timetable. Double maths, double art, PE, geography, science. Monday definitely wasn’t his favourite day.
*
^^^Yeah, I know, that was a tad boring. It's only the beginning though!
This one's my newest one, and the dream is based sort of on an RP idea I had. It's called It has been foretold in the RP forum if you want to check it out. ;)
The sky above was black, with no moon to give any light. The only noise as Sorrel Wracknell ran through the forest was the sound of leaves rustling as she ran, and the sound of her coarse breathing. Occasionally a twig snapped behind her and she knew her pursuers were gaining on her. Sorrel was unsure as to why she was running from them, but she knew it was for her own safety, and that if they caught her, she would die.
She suddenly came to what seemed to be an invisible shield. She was unable to run any further, no matter how hard she tried. Realisation hit her as she saw only a few meters from the barrier, the leafy floor ended. A vertical drop, where below was a deep river with a rapid current. Sorrel thanked her stars that she had not been able to continue running. She took a deep breath as the five men ho had been chasing her caught up. They bent over, panting. One of them exhaled deeply, shook his head and laughed quietly.
“You thought you could escape us, didn’t you?” The other men joined in laughing. “You thought you’d be able to outrun us.” He shook his head again. Please, please, please... Sorrel begged silently to herself. You saved me from falling. Save me now! She didn’t know who she was asking, but she knew someone was out there. The men simultaneously stepped forward. Sorrel had no where to back up to.
She didn’t need to have anywhere to go though. At that very moment, they all looked up at a sound like when a firework makes its way up before exploding; only it wasn’t a sound going up. It was a sound coming closer. A streak of bright white cut the black sky. The sphere of light at the end fell to the ground and its tail dissolved into the darkness. From the sphere, a small butterfly-like creature emerged. Its brightness dazzled the six people around it. As Sorrel looked more closely, she realised it wasn’t a butterfly, it was a faerie.
“I am a Guardian Faerie, Sorrel. Do not look so surprised. I will help you escape these men, and together we will go back.” Sorrel sighed with relief as she took the faerie’s outstretched hand, and together they took off into the night.
Sorrel opened her eyes abruptly. She sat up cautiously and looked around the room, thankful to see that none of her other dorm mates had awoken yet. Sorrel re-arranged herself to be sitting in a comfortable (or as comfortable as you could get in the hard, lumpy beds) position. It was still dark outside. Sorrel felt around her bedside table for her watch. She switched on the backlight and saw that it read 4:56. Guiltily she slipped back under her covers and waited for the two hours until seven o’clock to p*censored*. Moments later Sorrel became conscious of the fact that she was ten today. That brightened up her mood a little, and the minutes seemed to tick by a little faster.
Just as she was about to doze back off, there was a loud crack. Sorrel thought she was imagining it, as no one else seemed to wake up by the sound of it. However her hunch was demolished by a fizzing sound following it. It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep again, so Sorrel got up, made her bed, got dressed... the usual. Until she went to the bathroom, except from the fact it was her birthday, the day started off normally. As she looked in the mirror to start to comb her hair, she noticed a change in her face. At first she was uncertain as to what it was, then realized it was her eyes. They were no longer the warm chocolate brown they were the night before, but a dark, misty grey. Sorrel pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and to her dismay, she wasn’t. She decided that dwelling on the fact would do her no good, so she continued brushing her deep brown hair as normal.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Sorrel jumped as her five dorm mates pounced on her. After she had turned around, they starting singing.
“Er, thanks guys,” she grinned. They all looked pretty pleased with themselves after that comment, and continued to do whatever they had been doing before.
At breakfast Sorrel was sung another chorus of Happy Birthday, and given some gifts by the care workers, Wilma and Jake. One was a small notepad and pen; another was a small model of a barn owl, and the one which was from everyone at the orphanage, or so it said, but Sorrel doubted they had any say it what it was, a wind-up mouse, probably so she could tease Furb, the orphanage’s fat ginger cat.
When she was free to leave the table at breakfast, Sorrel leapt upstairs to put her presents away. She put the notepad and pen or bedside table, the mouse on her bed, so she could take it back downstairs, and put the owl on the mantelpiece in her room. Her dorm mates were kind enough to let it be her place to put all her models of birds. The first one she got could hardly p*censored* as a bird. It was a griffin. The griffin had been found with her when she had been left just inside the hallway of the orphanage on her first birthday. The care workers had made it tradition for them to give her a model bird every year. Sorrel placed the owl next to the eagle she had been given the previous year.
As her five dorm mates, Clara, Alex, Sophie, Leah and Freya came in, they saw her sitting on her bed, looking at her birds. Leah walked over to her and sat beside her. Quietly, she said,
“What do you want to do?”
Sorrel looked at Leah in surprise.
“Oh! I don’t know. What do you want to do?” Her dorm mates laughed.
^^^What d'ya think?? It's a little boring to begin with too, except the dream I s'pose, but it will sort of evolve into an adventure/fantasy story.
This one's acctually really long. But I just took the beginning. (BTW, 'The girl' has a name, but that's in the next chapter, and she's a gypsy)
It was raining. The girl gazed feebly through the wet pattern that the raindrops had tattooed upon the window. She watched the trees slowly move out of sight, and the hedges bob up and down. Everything was grey and dull, even the sun, which was hidden behind a few lighter clouds. She couldn’t do anything, not whilst the road was bumpy, covered in stones and rocks, with jagged corners, sudden turns, and sometimes the path became so narrow that the wagon wheels couldn’t fit, they edged out onto the gr*censored*y banks.
The girl jolted up and down, unable to keep balanced. Looking behind she could still see the small fishing town they had just left behind – Chimera; full of riches and all the people were so friendly, she didn’t think they even knew. She had made a friend or two, maybe even three or four... or a whole organization whilst she was there. But her favourite was Ethedor, one of the most highly skilled Black Market traders there ever would be, to her at least. His face was still firm in her mind, a muscular tone to it, and yet, so soft and calming, and stern, and was decorated with scars. He had luxurious wavy hair which reached just to his shoulders, which was one of the deepest shades of brown. His eyes were firmly planted into his face and one was a baby blue, whilst the other hazel. His skin was a light peach colour, burning red in some places, maybe where he had stayed out in the sun too long or for some other reason. She could remember the last words he ever said to her, his eyes firmly set on hers.
“Well, kiddo, good luck in finding your place out there in the world, but if you can’t, I’ll be your plan B. Mind though, I won’t still be here,” And then in a whirl of his night black cloak, he was gone. The girl could remember standing there down the cobblestone alley, all alone, and before the dark could close in on her, she ran, and ran, and ran, back to the wagon, where there were no people, only the two horses that they owned, a male and a female, they had no idea what breed, but the mare was piebald with a jagged mane, they called her Fantasy – she had a gentle nature. The stallion however was like a wild colt, bursting with energy, and a cheeky look to his eye, he was skewbald, mainly, with a few patches of black, and he was known to their family as Orion.
They whinnied with pleasure as she approached them, running her fingers through their ragged, but soft manes. Orion was at ease only with her, to strangers, he was as wild as the wolves in the forest, rearing violently and stamping his hooves on the ground.
She mumbled a few soothing words to them and drifted off into conversation – not knowing that all p*censored*ers by stared at her, she didn’t know that to them, she looked demented. But the horses loved it. They too drifted off, as if there was an imaginary wall surrounding them.
*
I would appreciate any comments. :)
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