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Writer
Join Date: Nov 2007
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My next chapter
This is intended for a young adult audience. Please let me know what you think...
Chapter 2 - Shadows
Christopher landed with a hard thud. He winced in pain as lie there, dirt filling his nostrils, gasping for air. He struggled in his attempts to get to his feet and felt hot jabs of pain radiating through his left side. He felt around on his rib cage and located the culprit for his pain; a broken rib was clearly jabbing into his skin threatening to break through at any moment. He swore quietly as he stood.
Christopher waited in vain for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Awkwardly, he fumbled in his pocket for the small flashlight he carried with him and flicked it on, surprised at the result; the light was swallowed up leaving a sickly, feeble glow. He shook it, hoping for better results, but to no avail.
Stumbling forward, he found the dwarf curled up in a motionless ball, “Moron,” he muttered as he kicked him in the side. “Get up! Get up and help me figure out what to do!”
The dwarf rolled over and groaned. “What did you have to kick me for?”
“Well… let’s see… Because you are the idiot that got us into this mess! I told you not to do it, didn’t I?” Christopher snapped.
“Well, not really. That is to say, you did mention it might not be a good idea, but you didn’t really know that much about it.”
“DIDN’T KNOW THAT MUCH ABOUT IT?!?!? I TOLD YOU THAT IT WAS A STUPID IDEA AND NOT TO DO IT! I TOLD YOU THAT ONLY A FOOL MESSES AROUND WITH THINGS THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND! I TOLD YOU – “
“Okay, okay… no need to shout…” Interrupted the dwarf, “We should start by figuring out where we are.”
“What a brilliant idea! Let me just find a landmark… oh, that’s right I can’t see a freaking thing. How do you propose we figure it out? Seriously, are you really this stupid?”
“Alright, you don’t have to be so rude! I mean, I’m sure there is a way back. Just let me think.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea!” retorted Christopher sarcastically as he stormed away, clutching his rib.
“Oi! Don’t leave me!” The dwarf scrambled to his feet and stumbled after him.
“Why should I care about you, you filthy windbag? You have been nothing but trouble. Just go away!”
An awkward silence followed and Christopher regretted his harsh words. He sighed, “Fine, get over here. But keep quiet and let me think in peace.”
He moved his fingers to his temples and pushed against his throbbing head, still silently cursing the dwarf.
They sat there for what seemed like hours with no sound except their own frantic breathing when something changed; a metallic, clinking noise pulsated in the distance.
“Do you hear that?” the dwarf made no effort to hide the trembling in his voice.
Bracing themselves they grasped their swords, holding their breath for fear it might betray them. Christopher struggled to hear as the beating of his own heart threatened to drown out all other sounds. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. They both exhaled long sighs of relief but held tight to their swords.
Clicking off his flashlight, Christopher backed against the dwarf. “Stay close if something happens.”
For some time nothing happened and he almost thought the thing was gone. But, just as he thought this, the baleful clinking started again, this time much closer. Dark images imbedded in his mind with nightmarish flashes threatening reality. Visions of evil, murderous monsters, blood stained and hungry blazed before him. And then, it hit him. Frantically, he whispered, “Wait! Wait! Were you holding them both when we fell?”
“Yes, but why…”
“Shut up and listen. Do you have them both now?”
“I have the sword, but not the stone... but what has this got to do with…”
“We need to find it! Get down and search! Now!”
The dwarf hesitated, “But I still don’t…”
“Just do it!”
They both dropped to their knees and groped in darkness. The ground was smooth and cool and they could feel nothing but dirt. No grass, no rocks. Several minutes went by before the dwarf shouted, “Hey! I think I found it!” But there was no chance for celebration; they were no longer alone.
The dwarf felt something sharp poking into his back and he froze. “I-I-Is that you?”
No reply came from his companion instead the darkness was now filled with a deep rasping. “Stand,” it wheezed slowly.
Shivers went up dwarf’s spine as he stood, clutching the stone tightly. “Now, what is this you have found?” The rasping creature grasped the dwarf’s neck and lifted him off of the ground, the dwarf’s legs kicking frantically in air as he struggled against the beast’s powerful grip.
The beast wrenched the stone from the dwarf’s hand.
“This is the stone.” It muttered… fear evident in its voice.
Christopher couldn’t understand what was happening. Obviously these beasts could see in the dark. How did it know about the stone? Why was it afraid?
Stealthily he crept to where they stood and poised, ready to attack when. Suddenly, he froze the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There were more beasts. He heard them, shuffling nearer as their hoarse, grunting vocalizations became louder, pulsating through his head.
A whizzing noise came from behind Christopher and he flung himself to the ground just in time. The beast screamed in agony. He flicked on his light and frantically searched, eventually finding the dwarf in a crumpled heap on top of the beast.
With a single arrow protruding from its heart, the beast lie now completely still. The silence not last as hundreds of terrifying howls echoed all around them.
“They’ve got us surrounded! There is no escape!” cried the dwarf.
“Hurry! Give me the stone and the sword and grab my arm.”
The dwarf promptly obeyed and seized his arm. The cries seemed to be fading as they found themselves spinning downward and downward, the darkness being consumed by light. Then… the voices were gone.
They landed softly on moist, dewy grass and were instantly greeted by a sense of peace. Rubbing their eyes, they blinked away the brightness and absorbed their surroundings. Lush evergreens enclosed them on three sides. And on the fourth a cliff’s edge cascaded away so deeply that they could not make out the land below. Rolling hills painted the horizon and were etched with greens, reds, oranges, and yellows. And all around a light mist clung to the earth which would have given the air a chill had it not been for the warm sun breaking through.
Christopher slammed his fist against the ground and let out a scream which echoed against the hills. Once again, they were lost.
Sitting down, he shut his eyes as despair filled him for the second time that day. How were they ever going to get home? And even as he felt hopelessness consume his entire body it unexpectedly was replaced with the sudden need to sleep. “Everything will be alright,” a soft voice told him. “There is no problem. And so what if you end up here forever? This seems like a nice enough place.”
With that he settled back on the comfortable, mossy ground and fell into a deep, restless sleep.
“Christopher! Wake up! WAKE UP!”
He woke suddenly and his temples were pounding. A thin light barely illuminated the room, and he cracked open his eyes to see a heavy set woman standing over him, arms crossed. “I have been trying to wake you for 10 minutes!” she barked. “Now hurry up or you will be late for school again!” She turned swiftly and stomped out of the room, leaving him in darkness.
Christopher rolled over and looked at the time. “6:30,” he groaned. The temptation to close his eyes and go back to sleep flooded him, but infuriating his mother was not a good idea.
Propping himself up on his elbows, he yawned and threw back the covers. Reluctantly, he hoisted himself off the bed, and inched his way over to the closet. He donned his “normal” attire: jeans and a t-shirt, then grabbed his school bag lying at the foot of his bed.
As he exited the room he tripped on a pile of clothes which he kicked in frustration. Storming out he slammed the door behind him and rounded the corner of the hallway leading to the front door. Without saying goodbye to his mother, he left the house.
Upon opening the door he was greeted by drizzly rain spattering his face and for the first time that morning he smiled. “Good, at least the weather is as miserable as me.”
Tim was waiting for him on the corner to walk to school. An odder pair could not be found; Tim was tall, athletic, and handsome. Christopher was sloppy, wore wrinkled clothes and had wild, curly hair. Regardless, they were inseparable and most everyone had come to accept that. If they didn’t they soon found themselves at blows with Tim Benton and there was not one person who had come out of that situation for the better.
When Tim wasn’t around the outcome was never good. The next day Christopher would show up with a new bruise or some cuts here and there and Tim would always be quick to the defense. He used to think this was great, but as he grew older he felt more shame at not being able to defend himself.
So, he made up a regular lie, “Oh come on Tim! You know how clumsy and awkward I am! I was running home because I was late again and I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.”
Tim would raise an eyebrow skeptically, to which he would reply, “Seriously! But you should have seen what happened to the sidewalk! It won’t try to trip me again anytime soon!”
Tim would shake his head as the boys burst into laughter, then punch Christopher in the arm and respond, “Okay but next time you tell me where that sidewalk is and I’ll teach it a thing or two.”
Christopher tried to fight back but never succeeded in anything more than making their efforts a little harder. And it seemed that the more he stood up for himself the more strength they had to their resolve.
“By the way, did I tell you that you look horrible today?” Tim examined Christopher. “Seriously, I mean really bad. You haven’t looked like this since the beginning of the year.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet! It’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to impress you with my stunning looks. I would be crestfallen; heartbroken even!” Chris batted his eyelashes waiting for at least a chuckle.
“Chris, I’m not kidding! Have you been having dreams again?”
“No,” lied Christopher.
“Well, what about what happened at school the other day?”
Christopher was hoping to avoid this. “It was nothing,” he replied, “I feel asleep. People do it all the time.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Okay, but we are not talking about normal people. We are talking about someone that has crazy dreams all the time.”
“I am NOT crazy!” Christopher shouted.
“Settle down… I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant…”
“Yeah, yeah. I know what you meant.”
Christopher could feel Tim still examining him. “Okay, okay. I fell asleep, I went to Ms. Pinicky’s office and she told me… she told me that I have to go into the Tutor program.”
“WHAT?” Tim halted and looked as if he was preparing for a fight. “Why do you need a tutor? You’re the smartest kid in the school! What tutor could even teach you? I give it two days before you are teaching them! That is so stupid! I can’t believe…”
“Tim… its fine! She doesn’t think I’m dumb. She said I’m a “distraction”.” He said this last word in the best Ms. Pinicky voice that he could muster and saw Tim begin to object, “Seriously. I am though. You know that.”
“So, she is going to make you look like you are an idiot because you can’t help falling asleep?!?”
“No, no. She told my mom that I am going into a special program because I am too smart. It is the first time I think I have ever seen my mom smile. She actually said, ‘Well, at least there is one good thing about you.’ Anyway, she is hoping that rumor will spread.”
Christopher laughed at the idea and then saw a coy look creep across Tim’s face.
“Well, what do you think I’m here for? If anyone can start a good rumor, it’s me!” They both laughed as they approached school.
The red brick building glared ominously down at Christopher as he stood examining the stairs looming away before him. Tight huddles of whispering teenagers littered the front lawn. They only occasionally peered out of their circle to throw a snide comment, dirty look, or if Christopher was lucky, a greeting.
Everyday he followed the same ritual. Stand and stare. Tell himself how much he hates it here. Then try to tell himself that he doesn’t hate it here. Then call himself a liar. Then tell himself that he definitely hates it here. Then, after about five minutes of this, turn around and start walking home. Then remember that he hates home even more. Then turn again around and follow the same process as before for another five minutes. And finally, sadly, pathetically even, walk up the stairs to impending doom.
At first Tim waited for him until he realized it was going to be a daily event. Now he usually left him at the foot of the stairs, occasionally checking back to see if he was ready to go in.
On this day, Chris’s ritual was abruptly interrupted. “Butt face… you gonna go in or just stand there like an idiot?”
Chris grimaced as he was shoved to the ground, knees slamming into the pavement. He was hoping to avoid him.
Pulling himself up, he found himself face to face with the worst of his tormentors. David Johnson cowered over Christopher by a good foot.
“I heard your mommy likes to make you lunch. What did she make for you today?”
David seized Christopher’s book bag and was just about to open it when a voice spoke from behind him.
“Davey… how many times do I have to tell you? If you want to bring your dollies to school, you are going to have to get your own bag to haul them in. A nice pink one will do… you don’t want little Sally doll to get all dirtied up in this black backpack. Now be a good boy and give it back to Chris.”
David shoved the bag back into Christopher’s arms, the force knocking him back.
“You’re a jerk Tim,” the hatred etched across his face as he spat the words.
Tim looked bemused, “Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you.”
Christopher didn’t wait for the end of the argument and scrambled away, up the steps, past the bustling crowds, to his locker. As he bent over to grab his first set of school books he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Ms. Pinicky.
“Christopher, when you are ready I would like a word?”
He tried to read her expression but found nothing and simply replied “Yes ma’am.”
She marched off in the direction of her office leaving him to gather the rest of his books. He stood, slammed his locker shut. Turning abruptly he almost crashed into a small, mousy girl which sent the contents of his unzipped bag flying. He glared at the girl and knelt to collect his fallen books.
“Hiya!” She said shouted cheerfully, completely oblivious to what she had just caused.
“Priv! How many times do I have to tell you that you have got to stop sneaking up on me like that?!?” He shoved the last of his books into his bag and stood.
She smiled innocently and ignored his question. “Wanna walk to class together?”
“I can’t, I’m doing the tutor program.”
“Ohhhh.” She cocked her head to one side and assessed him, “I didn’t think you were dumb. Are you dumb?”
“NO!” he shouted.
She shrugged her shoulders and replied, “Its okay if you are, we can still be friends. I’ve been friends with dumb people before; I know how to handle them. Anyway, no need to be ashamed of who you are.”
“I’m not dumb!” but his reply was drowned out by the bell.
“Well, gotta go.” She turned and started to skip away, “Oh, just let me know if you ever need help with any studies.” And before he could object she disappeared, skipping into the wave of students hurrying to class.
Christopher suddenly remembered why he hated school as he angrily zipped his bag and headed for Ms. Pinicky’s office.
Last edited by JustinaB : 11-13-2007 at 12:35 PM.
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