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My awesome original story: Script!!! =3 |
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This is my original story!! well just the prologue, but i hope you enjoy it!! its a fantasy/ romance, so if you like those type of books, this is the book for you whee
so please enjoy my stroy:
Just a pinch of magic
By CCS
Prologue
“Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl named Miya. Everyone could tell who she was by her gorgeous two colored eyes. For one was a magnificent shade of violet and the other was an almost sacred shade of gold. This girl was not only known for her odd, yet extraordinary, color of eyes; but she was also the amazing storywriter.
Young Miya wrote the worlds story, she wrote who would fall in love when the people of the kingdom’s died, and also when great wars would wage. This may seem like an idiotic task to many and had no point to it, but whatever Miya wrote in her magical book, became true. The people her world thought that she was “a sacred maiden.” not only did the sacred maiden write the world’s story, but she was also destined to fall in love and marry one of the mythical kingdom’s three princes.
There were three kingdoms in this magical world; one was of Zensious, the kingdom of humans. The prince was very handsome and very loyal to his country. He was said to be very kind and unselfish and put his kingdom before anything else. The second kingdom was of Zocoasi, the kingdom of supernatural creatures. This kingdom’s prince was a pure blood goblin, the most populous creature in the kingdom. This prince was also very handsome, and was well known for his great magical power and stunning beauty. The third and final prince was from the land of Zacone, the kingdom of evil. No one knew what the prince looked like and some people even doubt that he exists.
This is Miya’s story of love, adventure and tragedy…”
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”Next stop, Brickett Heights!” shouted the old bus driver, in his coarse voice. I hated the way it sounded. It reminded me of that horrible grinding noise people’s teeth make, and it was extremely annoying.
‘Oh, great, my stop of hell…’ I thought to myself as I shut the large journal and grabbed for my bag, just as the bus screeched to a dreaded stop.
I walked towards the front of the nearly empty bus, carefully examining the few passengers. Beside myself, there were four others. The first one I passed was an old woman, maybe fifty years old. As I passed her she looked at me with a face filled with obvious distaste. I could only guess it was because of my apparel.
That particular day, I decided I was going to make myself as individualistic as possible. I wore my favorite shirt and pants. They sound pretty normal when I explain them bluntly, but in truth my clothes were far from normal. For one, my T-shirt was a bright green color with purple patterns and had purple sleeves added on by small metal chains. My pants were a dark purple with many chains covering the legs. Not only was it odd looking, but also it made little sense to people that I was wearing pants in 110-degree weather.
I suppose it didn’t help that my ivory skin looked very odd next to my long and thick brown hair. Which I had in its usual high ponytail, it was surprising that my hair fell down to my mid section besides this fact. Not exactly ordinary. But, as I said, that day I wasn’t caring on what was ordinary. I was too busy dreading my life.
So, I passed the disgusted old hag, and walked pass an unsophisticated biker guy. He even was wearing a sleeveless leather jacket that showed his wide variety of tattoos. ‘Now there is some one who doesn’t care about what people think’, I thought to myself. As if the man could read my thoughts, he grunted at me just like you’d imagine a pork-bellied pig would. I cringed without thinking, and continued down the dreaded isle.
The final two passengers, a young girl and her mother, stared at me with an equal look of surprise on their faces. The mother couldn’t pull her eyes away from my face, though it was obvious how much she wanted too. The little girl on the other hand was simply fascinated. She smiled in awe as I passed their seat.
“Mama, did you see her eyes?” I could hear the little girl whisper to her mother eagerly.
The mother was a little hesitant to answer her daughter. “Yes I did honey, they were very,” she paused. Trying to think of a good word that could describe my eyes properly, “interesting.”
“They were two different colors”, the little girl declared quietly.
‘There goes a regular genius’ I thought sarcastically. I finally reached the front of the large bus. Actually I was a little surprised she could see the color of my eyes through my glasses.
The old bus driver smiled at me and said quite politely “have a nice day” as I walked down the stairs that were right in front of my living nightmare.
‘Yeah right’ I thought as I forced a bright smile on my face and turned to the man. “Thanks a lot sir,” I said. But it was to late. The bus was already turning the corner down the block.
‘Thanks for nothing’ I thought grumpily, as I stared at the grass beneath my feet. “I’m screwed”, I finally decided. I can’t even begin to explain the hatred I was feeling. Angry tears began to fill both the violet, and golden eyes on my face.
“Miya Stephens?” asked a very shrill voice. I was startled back into control of my body and automatically stopped the tears. As soon as I was sure that I was in complete control of my powerful emotions, I turned my body towards an odd site.
“Yes?”
It turns out that the voice belonged to a girl around my age. The first thing I noticed about her was that irreproachable grin. Her smile was so large that I at once thought that her face would crack. As I studied her more closely I noticed that her hair was equally as odd as her smile. Her hair was a dirty blond hair color, and was put up into a ponytail in a silky ribbon. On the right side of her head she had little pieces of hair sticking straight up, which reminded me of horns. How it was like that I don’t know, but all in all she was a strange sight.
‘Oh great,’ I thought to my self bleakly, ‘ an over joyful freak.’
“Allow me, your class president Tracie Sparks, to be the first to say,’ Tracie put her arms up in the air, taking a deep breath in, “Welcome to Brickett Heights, the prep school for the talented.” She literally screamed.
That was when I diverted my eyes from my odd class president, to the VERY large building that stood behind her.
Now Brickett Heights was one of the best schools in the country and it resided in one of the countries largest cities, San Francisco. I wasn’t used to large cities, at the time. Actually that was the first time I was in such a large place. The buildings were miserably unfamiliar to me. It only reminded me how far away I was from home.
Brickett Heights was humungous. The building looked like it’s neighboring skyscrapers. The only difference was that the school looked like it was made entirely of brick until it went up four stories and then turned into a metallic skyscraper. The school was much more frighteningly strange to me than I imagined. I again unthinkingly cringed through out my skin.
The annoying angry tears began to swell around my eyes. I turned my face away and closed my eyes, trying to control myself as quickly as possible. The sooner I stopped, the easier it would be to lie to Tracie when she asked me if I was all right. I braced my self for her caring questions that, at any other time, I would have been grateful for, and opened my twinkling eyes towards her.
I couldn’t be more surprised by her reaction to my tears. As soon as I looked at her I noticed that her smile wasn’t faded at all. It actually grew, if that was humanly possible.
“Oh, don’t worry, this is just where you learn. Our dorms are much larger.” She said as she waved her hand in an up and down gesture that you would think you would only see in comic books.
“Oh, great” I say confused. I couldn’t believe that this nut job was class president. Or even going to this school.
“Now if you’ll follow me, we’ll register your uniform and dorm room.” She motioned me to follow her and I obediently did. Hating ever single step…
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Brickett Heights was a school for some of the smartest people on the planet. It took flawless grades and great teacher recommendations to even be considered to be accepted. I guess you could say that this school was only achievable in many people’s dreams. But I only saw it in my nightmares.
If your wondering why I’m so upset about going to such a wonderful school, its because I never wanted to go that stupid school in the first place. My dad forced me to got to this school. But perhaps I should explain why. You see, ever since my mom died, around the time I was six; my dad always pushed my away. Not that I tried to impose on him, he just wanted to be away from me, he wanted me out of his life.
That’s why he sent me to this retarded school. He was very sneaky about sending my past report cards to the school. (That I should tell you is across the country from my simple countryside life.) And of course, the school loved me. Why shouldn’t they? I’ve had straight A’s since I started elementary school. I’ve also never had a teacher that even thought about complaining about my company.
That’s not the worst part of it all! My dad never told me about his sending MY personal report cards to a school across the country. And I probably wouldn’t have found out either, that is, if I never got my congratulatory acceptance certificate.
And I was sent away from the beautiful countryside, as fast as that, but through all of this I enhanced my ultimate passion. And that passion is writing. Writing stories, to be exact. Just like the one you saw on the bus, the one about the “beautiful” discolored eyed Miya (not).
Actually, all of my stories are in magical and fantastic fairy tale lands, and I am the main character in all of them. When I do this I feel like I can escape away from all of my miseries. I often find my self-working on them whenever it was humanly possible.
I had just thought of my best story yet, and my only wish, then, was that I could put my entire masterpiece in one journal. (The current journal I was using, was running low on paper.) Just so it could be more realistic.
Of course, that had to be the one wish of mine that was soon to come true…
so what did you think?? if you see any errors plz tell me!! =3 and also, plz comment on your opinion on the plot, characters, the whole kit and kaboodle!!!
In the great words of some awesome person who pwns all of you, "As long as you're an artist, you're great, even if you suck unholy biscuits at it."
 artist_at_heart_4evr · Sat Mar 29, 2008 @ 01:43pm · 2 Comments |
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