PDA

View Full Version : Few Chapters of Novel



ACKEEN
November 18th, 2010, 05:44 PM
This is the first thing I have written. Please let me know what you think, any opinions are welcome. Thank you.


Chapter 1

Since she could remember, she was known as Guan-yin. Not angel, princess, or my darling daughter. Guan-yin did well at school was always top of her class. She was respectful to her elders, peers and anyone she met.

She like many other at her age was embracing the wonders that technology could bring. Facebook, Myspace and Hi5 all had their Guan-yin, with her uncomfortable and embarrassing “Well I am a shy girl but I can be a very good friend” posted on their respective About Me sections. A photo album containing only the most flattering photos of her was uploaded to the sites. Each photo, first, had to go through the strictest of tests:
1. Face - must be only the beautiful her, the 45-minute makeover her, the crouching in front of the make-up mirror and squeezed, prodded, cleaned, brushed, styled and painted her. No sign of the early morning and tired Guan-yin must remain.

2. Background - must be free of anything incriminating; unfolded clothes, crinkled covers, half-eaten food and heaven forbid a piece of the walls in her room were showing. It is true the walls were not at their best, her father had not got round to painting it since they had torn down the wallpaper that had previously hung there.

3. Nose - The nose must be made to look as small as possible, if the nose even resembled its real self the photo was instantly deleted, the recycle bin emptied, the evidence destroyed, and the whole horrible nose forgotten.

It wasn’t that she was shallow, she didn’t have the self-confidence for that, she was just demure and modest in equal measures and that concoction of traits didn’t leave much room for self-confidence.

Guan-yin had 113 friends on Facebook and 98 on MySpace, she knew only 22 of them in the flesh, though, and they were school friends and acquaintances she had met at various places. The others in her friends list were just there to help her with her English, although they were not aware of that fact. Her teachers had always told her to “talk to foreigners to keep up your English” so she did because she was proud that she knew English better than almost anyone at her school.

She wasn’t the most popular girl at her school but she wasn’t an outcast. She didn’t have a group of friends that she always stayed with but she would just talk to everyone not letting them get close but not pushing them away either. There was one girl in her class, Su-Rui, who always tried to sit next to her in English and seemed interested in getting to know her better but Guan-yin had mastered the art of killing conversations, she had detected this ability at an early age and it had not failed her yet.

She knew that if she did make friends with Su-Rui then Su-Rui would invite Guan-yin to come over to her house and would expect Guan-yin to return the hospitality. Her parents would probably allow it, would cook Su-Rui a meal and while they ate, big phony smiles would inhabit their faces. Guan-yin could imagine what a horrible experience it would be to have to sit there with tension and resentment hidden behind stretched lips and yellowed teeth. The door would close on the evening and all pretenses would fade into the silence.

The sites showed that Guan-yin’s interests were quite broad and ranged from hip-hop dancing, (which her overzealous cousin Ning had dragged her into) to travelling (in truth she had never even been near the Guangdong Province border). She had always had thoughts of leaving Shenzhen though, she remembered the time when she was a little girl she had been at the coastal city of Xiamen on a school trip and was looking out to sea and saw Kinmen County Islands. She thought how far away it was, how different the people there must be and how it would be wonderful to meet them and go to a far away land.

In the real world, she didn’t have anything she could call a hobby. Yes, she would go to the movies or read a book once in a while but for her these things weren’t special, they were merely things to do to pass the time. She didn’t truly love anything or anyone and she didn’t have anything she could call a passion. She was a hollow shell, a living, breathing person floating through life in complete indifference.
Chapter 2

He was Oliver Stepson, he loved the World Wide Web of women. From the comfort of his kitchen chair that was masquerading as an office chair, he could sample the wide range of females that were out there. The Black women, white women, Asian women and women who used to be men, who, incidentally where mostly Asian, he wanted them all.

He only signed up to Facebook because his friends had. Oliver only had two real friends and that was all he wanted. Colin and Matthew were the only two people he would actually enjoy spending time with, they were funny, clever, and they always had something to talk about. All three of them had met at college and the realization that they were not total imbeciles like the rest of their class was what threw them together.

He did not put much thought or effort into his profile because the only people that he had added on Facebook were his two college friends. He had only uploaded one photo that he thought accentuated his features, written a few sentences about himself and filled in the forms - age: “17”, religious views - "Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich" and political views – “Open for debate.”

When it was his day off from college one day he found there was nothing else to do and all options had been exhausted i.e. he had had his daily fix of porn, checked the news for any horrific natural disasters, dead celebrities and lying politicians, played and lost four games of solitaire and Googled his own name. He decided to try to find old school friends on Facebook.

He searched for old girlfriends - who had gotten fat, best friends who had gotten gay and people he only talked to once or twice whom he added anyway just for the hell of it. For the next few days he was hooked, he got a message, then another, polite clichéd phrases were exchanged but soon he found there was nothing to say and those old friends must have come to the same conclusion too because nothing else was said. They became nothing more than photos grouped together on a section of each others profile.

Now and then, he would read what his old schoolmates had written and think how they probably would pronounce the t’s in beret and ballet if they used any of those words in their ‘so-called’ vocabulary. And how Gustave Flaubert’s name would get butchered and turned into Gustave Floorbert by their tongues, if they even knew who he was. He hated even more what they would write which was mostly: “Gettin pissed agen tnite…bring it on”. Their fat faces, dirty mouths, their agen’s and tnite’s made him want to shoot himself or them, better them.
Chapter 3

Oliver was waiting for the bus after college; he had had a banging headache all day. He was listening to the people he shared the bus shelter with, a group of loud-mouthed kids and tight-lipped pensioners, people from each end of the age spectrum. Old people were trying to get home after shopping and would probably have a bite to eat and then go to bed. The kids heading home from school to eat fish fingers and chips, then given whatever will make them keep out of their parent’s way for the rest of the night (the highlight of the day for the whole family.)

As he was looking at a group of three boys who where at that teeth-larger-than-their-mouth stage of their development and discussing something at an unreasonable volume, an older girl came and stood behind them. The boys quickly shut up and one of them turned an impressive shade of scarlet. Obviously, their banter wasn’t meant for someone who had already gone through puberty.

Oliver was happy that something had caused the sound to cease and looked again at the creator of the quiet, “and what a creator”, he thought as his eyes moved over her. They fell on two raised bumps, as they always did for humans of his age and sex, visible through a knitted grey jumper. Her brown wavy hair looked soft and shiny, cascading down her chest. He looked away so that his gawping wasn’t obvious but his eyes were quickly drawn back to her, starting at the floor, she wore black Chucks and tight black trousers, the grey jumper was tight against her slim torso. Her mouth was narrow but her red lips looked like rose petals and gave him a pang of pleasure below the waist. Her nose was not large but looked a little out of proportion compared with the mouth. Her eyes were light and flashed as she looked directly at him. Oliver looked away and pretended to concentrate on something else.

A short time later the bus came and the passengers got off. The queue of people waiting had become quite large now and rain had started to fall hard so that the group of people had huddled together and looked like penguins keeping their eggs warm. Oliver couldn’t see the girl in the crowd anymore and wondered if she had gone off or caught another bus.

The cold mob started entering the bus and Oliver was happy when he saw there were still some free seats available near the back. The schoolboys came in after him and ran to the back of the bus, nearly tripping over a stray carrier bag. They plopped down on the seats, their legs sprawled in all directions, and began playing inaudible music on their mobile phones, some dance beat that just repeats and fades. Oliver could feel his headache jumping at the chance to return.

The pretty girl was paying her fare and about to begin walking down the most depressive aisle there was (apart from the bargain aisle of a supermarket). Oliver noticed that there were only two seats she could choose, unless she wanted to stand, that is. However, she had already passed the standing area and was coming to the back. In the other seat sat a guy about Oliver’s age and with a thick but tidy beard. “Of course she would choose that seat” he thought, “that guy looks older“. Oliver inwardly cursed himself for not being able to grow any facial hair but then thought what a thick beard meant right now in society: At best, you were a pervert at worst a pedo. The girl looked around and he saw how she looked at the other guy and how pervert must have crossed her mind because she continued walking and sat next to Oliver.

His elation didn’t last long though; he just wasn’t used to having good-looking girls sitting so close to him. It’s true, he sometimes sat next to Kirsty at college and yes, she had a nice body but she also had a face like a foot and more shit came out of her mouth than a horse taking laxatives, the negatives outweighed the positives in his mind.

He would talk to her, he could to talk to girls, he preferred talking to girls, unless he felt like discussing girls, women or the female of the species, that is.

The beauty beside him was looking straight ahead and her hair looked almost red, now that the lights from the bus shone on it. The doors of the bus shut and the driver started to pull away; it was chock-a-block now and so loud that the techno music at the back was just a faint hum. A mixture of smells (sweat, food and cigarette) filled the vehicle. She opened her bag and took out her MP3 player and turned it on, “looks like she doesn’t fancy a chinwag”, he thought. He seized his only chance and said,

“I wish I’d brought mine, bit loud isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I know. This thing is my saviour sometimes” She pointed to the gadget in her palm.
“I think they should have some special police on the buses and as soon as you talk over a certain volume they throw you off” He smiled.
“Yeah and if you turn your mobile phone on and play that crap they hang you right there and then” they laughed.
“My name’s Carla”
“I’m Oliver, nice name, do you go to the college?”
“Thanks, no I’m still at school, year 11.”
“Oh not long left then, are those shoes part of your uniform?”
She laughed.

“No I always change my shoes after school ‘cuz I can hardly walk in them”
“I bet they are just really ugly shoes and you can’t be seen wearing them in the real world?” He smiled.
She frowned and said,
“As if I would wear ugly shoes to school, I would get bullied and called names” she said sulkily but with a smile.
“Oh yeah, I didn’t think of that”



The bus stopped and a few people got off. Oliver drew a sad face in the condensation and Carla looked and smiled.

“Such a nice face”, he thought and looked her in the eyes.
“I have to get off in a bit” she said.


Oliver took this as a hint that he better get things moving. So he decided to go for it, what did he have to lose?

“Oh really, You live around here? Nice place. I’ve got a friends who lives in Churchill Street, do you know it?”
“Yeah, I live just around the corner, in Major Street.”
“And does your house have a phone?”

“Well yeah, why?”
“Just…I would like to give it a ring some time” he glanced up at her sheepishly, hoping he had read the signals correctly. She looked at him coolly but her cheeks became a little pink and the corners of her mouth widened.
“Oh, well in that case you had better have my mobile number then”




Oliver grinned but felt his heart beating in his throat and a drop of sweat slowly running down his back. Carla told him her number and he entered it into the contacts of his mobile.

“Wow that things ancient” Carla said as she eyed his aging phone.
“Yeah I know, but it does the job though. All I need is something that calls and texts. So it’s alright for me”
“Suppose so” she said unconvincingly.
He put his phone back in his pocket and said,
“I will call you soon, ok”
“Ok, I gotta go now, chat to you later then”
“Bye”
“See ya”


He wanted to kiss her right then, her red lips looked so plump and inviting, but he didn’t want to ruin it and a packed bus probably wasn’t the best place for a first kiss. She stood up and walked to the front of the bus, her tight trousers showed the curves of her ass. He wanted to touch her and squeeze her ass, press his body against hers and put his hands all over her.

The sound of the bus starting up broke Oliver’s daydream and he watched as she stepped off and walked quickly forward. He wiped some condensation from the window with his forearm and they both smiled as the bus drove past her.

“Not a bad day” Olvier thought, “Not a bad day at all”.

Bucky24
November 19th, 2010, 01:55 AM
She like many other at her age was embracing the wonders that technology could bring. Facebook, Myspace and Hi5 all had their Guan-yin, with her uncomfortable and embarrassing “Well I am a shy girl but I can be a very good friend” posted on their respective About Me sections. A photo album containing only the most flattering photos of her was uploaded to the sites. Each photo, first, had to go through the strictest of tests


I could swear I know this girl...

Good story. I'm too burnt out at work to give it a full spelling/grammar check, but nothing too serious jumped out at me there. I'm not sure if its just the forums, but none of the paragraphs seemed to be tabbed in? Made it a little harder to read.

I like the descriptions the best-they make the story come to life. Very little has happened but I already feel like I know the characters.
I am interested to see where this goes.

yarn
November 20th, 2010, 02:27 PM
Hi Ackeen,

first of all I'd just like to say that I really like this story and I like the fact that you reference Facebook and Myspace etc. The kind of girl you depict in the first chapter seems to be a symptom of modern life. I also like the shift from Asia to the West (England?) after the first chapter; this sets the story up for some interesting occurrences later. The character of Guan-yin is also quite mysterious and I'm left wondering what her role in the story might be though I'm guessing she'll meet Oliver. You seem to have quite an insight into the Asian character; perhaps you've lived somewhere in China?
One minor point - and forgive me if I've missed something but . . .

There was one girl in her class, Su-Rui, who always tried to sit next to her in English and seemed interested in getting to know her better but Guan-yin had mastered the art of killing conversations, she had detected this ability at an early age and it had not failed her yet.
She knew that if she did make friends with Su-Rui then Su-Rui would invite Guan-yin to come over to her house and would expect Guan-yin to return the hospitality. Her parents would probably allow it, would cook Fung a meal and while they ate
Who's Fung?
Other than that your writing seems very good and I enjoyed reading this.

:)

ACKEEN
November 20th, 2010, 04:29 PM
Thanks for the opinions, I'm glad you like this so far. Oh thanks for spotting that mistake. Fung was the original name of the friend but I forgot to change that one. I will edit that now.