Post by F e n i on May 6, 2007 13:07:16 GMT -4
||Okay, here's the deal. I wrote another storeh, YAY! This is just an excerpt because I HAD to write about what happened to me on Friday. =D Yes, even this excerpt isn't completely finished, but I thought you guys needed something to read. Comments are forever loved. And any ideas for this storeh will be loved as well =D
Format: The things in italics are from a Journal entry (They usually give overviews during each chapter) while the plain text is part of the actual story.
Synopsis: Barbara Hope is your regular school teacher. She loves teaching and is one of the most patient souls you will ever meet. Eight years ago, rumors began spreading of an 'Omen' child in one of the kindergarten classes. This caught her interest; however, Hope decided not to pursue it. Looking at the class lists for 2007, she finds out that this 'Omen' is in hers. Now is her chance to find out why such a brilliant child is shunned and kept way from the rest of the students as well as the world. As well as face the consequences that come with her curiosity.||
Naomi sighed deeply, raking her right hand through her waist-length black hair. The people in her class were screaming once more, shouting about some random topic. She was adapted to it by now, but that didn’t mean the fourteen-year-old relished in the noise. Her reaction was the exact opposite of that. Obsidian irises glanced at the others in her class before rolling and turning into a small glare.
Yes, she was slightly hyperactive from the events that had taken place the night before. Naomi couldn’t help admitting that earlier on in the day to herself and a few others. Trying to be in a good mood didn’t exactly work out either. ‘I wonder if this tarnishes my image,’ Naomi thought to herself as the others were lining up. They dovetailed into a large mob -- you could salvage a line if you looked REALLY close, though. Another sigh of relief escaped her body when she saw the class finally depart. Blinking, Naomi still saw her teacher in the room as chipper as ever.
By this time the girl had reached the piano. Sheet music was clutched in her hands securely. Naomi glanced over and received a smile from the grammar instructor. Her body slid across the antique-looking piano bench toward the instrument. Meanwhile, Hope walked to the back of the room, to a small stash where she had some ‘emergency rations’. “Maybe I’ll have crackers today…” The student at the piano made no move to check the scene happening behind her.
After the food was out and the box back where it belonged, the older looked up to see Naomi. Each piece of music was delicately placed on the stand as if they were made of the finest silk. The sheets themselves weren’t in prime condition; Naomi treated them like they were. There were small folds, rips on the edges, and even a water stain on one of them. The piece was nothing to be vaunted about, at least the appearance. Those small impediments didn’t hinder the girl at all. Hope hated to ruin the scene.
“Do you have a lunch?” the teacher asked casually. Naomi just shifted in her seat to lock gazes with the only other in the room. She wasn’t looking like a waif like she usually did; Hope could see that much. The student looked a bit, dare I say it, more cheerful.
“Yes, but I’m not hungry,” Naomi said in the same tone. “It’s in my locker.” The girl made a move back to the piano.
Still steadfast, “Honey, go eat.” This time, the voice was a slight bit harder. Naomi looked pressed to argue again. A small screech filled the air as the bench was pushed backwards. Her small body slipped out easily. Slowly, the young lady walked across the front to the row where her desk and locker were (they were in the same general direction). Hope smiled as she passed by. The older began to walk the way Naomi came, sitting at the piano.
A few muttered words were uttered under the girl’s breath, “Trying to look despairing won’t work. It never does in front of her.” The lock slid up and opened the metal contraption. Naomi walked away to her desk, a loud bang following from the locker. She never did sit down. All the girl really did do was take out a small silver packet, re-zip the gothic-ish lunchbox, and throw the thing back into the locker with another slam. The girl smirked to herself, choosing to take a seat next to her teacher and the instrument.
Naomi wasted no time in making herself comfortable. The cheap green chair was pushed back somewhat, her feet resting on the side bars supporting the desk from the bottom. A mere look was given by the teacher, nothing more or less from that. That smirk was still plastered on her face as she ripped the package gently to reveal some strawberry Pop Tarts.
Small pieces were broken off the toaster pastry. Naomi popped each one in her mouth, chewing just a little bit. Hope already had turned back to her piano with her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The other watched, amazed, as the other began to play the song some of the girls were going to sing at graduation. The arrangement was simple, but it was off the top of the teacher’s head. Naomi longed to improvise like that… However, the teacher had been playing for much longer than herself.
“Come to the song, come to the dance. Bring all you are. Bring all you can be… Come with your voice, come with your heart.” Naomi found herself singing that softly along with the music. She had heard the other girls sing it before. “Come and journey with me… Come and journey with me…” The fourteen-year-old felt her mouth twitch up and squashed the thought. She walked over next to the older. Was Naomi actually singing? That’s what the teacher thought as she played the simple and repetitive music. The girl said she couldn’t sing, but here she was subconsciously doing so along with the beat. “Come let the sun fill up your eyes. Take the time, to look around…”
And so Hope joined in. “And love, just love, and walk with each other. Come and journey with me.” The other abruptly stopped, wide-eyed at the latest line. Suddenly, she choked on something invisible.
“I’m terribly sorry, but you know I had to choke at that,” the younger said softly as she beat her chest. She coughed a little more while the teacher completed that section of the music. Misty blue-green eyes looked at the other person with a bit of concern.
In the beginning of the year, the teacher knew it was somewhat of a ruse. Then the Halloween celebration came and began to change everything. The Christmas Party added onto that. After winter break, the diminutive just seemed to become more of a recluse from the world. Every time the teacher was closer to getting the girl to open up, there was an interruption, and everything was set two steps back. Maybe because it was the end of the year… Is that why Naomi was acting in such a way?
The teacher was brought out of her thoughts by the quiet voice. “You can move my music, you know.” Naomi pointed to the various sheets that were falling off the stand.
“That’s all right; it’s fine there.” Either way, the student picked each one up. They were set in a neat pile on top of the wooden cover. Come and Journey with Me was still sitting atop the stand back at the first page. Satisfied, the teenager sat back in her seat. Another strawberry Pop Tart was munched upon. Hope was poised to practice that song again.
“Mrs. Hope?” Both heads were turned toward the door. Naomi saw the algebra teacher there, so she turned sideways on her seat. It was not meant to be an act of ill manners, oh no.
Format: The things in italics are from a Journal entry (They usually give overviews during each chapter) while the plain text is part of the actual story.
Synopsis: Barbara Hope is your regular school teacher. She loves teaching and is one of the most patient souls you will ever meet. Eight years ago, rumors began spreading of an 'Omen' child in one of the kindergarten classes. This caught her interest; however, Hope decided not to pursue it. Looking at the class lists for 2007, she finds out that this 'Omen' is in hers. Now is her chance to find out why such a brilliant child is shunned and kept way from the rest of the students as well as the world. As well as face the consequences that come with her curiosity.||
Were You There:
A novel based on a true story
(Excerpt)
Friday, May 4
Being Hyper Isn’t Always a Bad Thing ~~ Chapter 30
“We can do whatever we wish to do, provided our wish is strong enough.”
… I made up a plan for recess. It wasn’t a good one, but it was a plan nonetheless. Here’s how the plan was supposed to go. I would just sit upstairs and play the piano. When recess came, Hope would come upstairs with the graduation singers. They would all settle down, and I would sprint downstairs to go do Mail with Dakota. (We would actually have to go fast for once! It’s amazing, I know.) Then I’d come back and practice some more.
Dakota is always complaining about how I’m “like a slug” when it comes to things like that. Okay, maybe I am. That is just part of my personality. Being last, going slow… Doing things like that doesn’t attract as much attention as if you’re in the front. Crowds make me nervous, though. Everyone is like, “Going last will just attract attention to you!” I know it does, but I can’t help it. First always stinks (I‘m tired of that), and if you’re in the middle, it’s all: BLAH. Last is the only other option.
That girl listens to everything you say, even if she doesn’t really want to. Dakota is that kind of person who will give as much advice as she can as well as throw some humor into it. When she isn’t here, everyone in our former ‘Group’ is silent because they don’t have anyone to rant to. Unless you’re talking about Sav and Max, of course. Or Nik and Jul. Or that day was just particularly silent.
Of course, my plans don’t always work. Come to think about it, they rarely do when I actually put time and effort into making them. Reverse psychology, much? I must try that sometime. This went totally OPPOSITE of what I wanted, in fact. It wasn’t as bad as what happened on the Death Day, but it was pretty close…
A novel based on a true story
(Excerpt)
Friday, May 4
Being Hyper Isn’t Always a Bad Thing ~~ Chapter 30
“We can do whatever we wish to do, provided our wish is strong enough.”
… I made up a plan for recess. It wasn’t a good one, but it was a plan nonetheless. Here’s how the plan was supposed to go. I would just sit upstairs and play the piano. When recess came, Hope would come upstairs with the graduation singers. They would all settle down, and I would sprint downstairs to go do Mail with Dakota. (We would actually have to go fast for once! It’s amazing, I know.) Then I’d come back and practice some more.
Dakota is always complaining about how I’m “like a slug” when it comes to things like that. Okay, maybe I am. That is just part of my personality. Being last, going slow… Doing things like that doesn’t attract as much attention as if you’re in the front. Crowds make me nervous, though. Everyone is like, “Going last will just attract attention to you!” I know it does, but I can’t help it. First always stinks (I‘m tired of that), and if you’re in the middle, it’s all: BLAH. Last is the only other option.
That girl listens to everything you say, even if she doesn’t really want to. Dakota is that kind of person who will give as much advice as she can as well as throw some humor into it. When she isn’t here, everyone in our former ‘Group’ is silent because they don’t have anyone to rant to. Unless you’re talking about Sav and Max, of course. Or Nik and Jul. Or that day was just particularly silent.
Of course, my plans don’t always work. Come to think about it, they rarely do when I actually put time and effort into making them. Reverse psychology, much? I must try that sometime. This went totally OPPOSITE of what I wanted, in fact. It wasn’t as bad as what happened on the Death Day, but it was pretty close…
Naomi sighed deeply, raking her right hand through her waist-length black hair. The people in her class were screaming once more, shouting about some random topic. She was adapted to it by now, but that didn’t mean the fourteen-year-old relished in the noise. Her reaction was the exact opposite of that. Obsidian irises glanced at the others in her class before rolling and turning into a small glare.
Yes, she was slightly hyperactive from the events that had taken place the night before. Naomi couldn’t help admitting that earlier on in the day to herself and a few others. Trying to be in a good mood didn’t exactly work out either. ‘I wonder if this tarnishes my image,’ Naomi thought to herself as the others were lining up. They dovetailed into a large mob -- you could salvage a line if you looked REALLY close, though. Another sigh of relief escaped her body when she saw the class finally depart. Blinking, Naomi still saw her teacher in the room as chipper as ever.
By this time the girl had reached the piano. Sheet music was clutched in her hands securely. Naomi glanced over and received a smile from the grammar instructor. Her body slid across the antique-looking piano bench toward the instrument. Meanwhile, Hope walked to the back of the room, to a small stash where she had some ‘emergency rations’. “Maybe I’ll have crackers today…” The student at the piano made no move to check the scene happening behind her.
After the food was out and the box back where it belonged, the older looked up to see Naomi. Each piece of music was delicately placed on the stand as if they were made of the finest silk. The sheets themselves weren’t in prime condition; Naomi treated them like they were. There were small folds, rips on the edges, and even a water stain on one of them. The piece was nothing to be vaunted about, at least the appearance. Those small impediments didn’t hinder the girl at all. Hope hated to ruin the scene.
“Do you have a lunch?” the teacher asked casually. Naomi just shifted in her seat to lock gazes with the only other in the room. She wasn’t looking like a waif like she usually did; Hope could see that much. The student looked a bit, dare I say it, more cheerful.
“Yes, but I’m not hungry,” Naomi said in the same tone. “It’s in my locker.” The girl made a move back to the piano.
Still steadfast, “Honey, go eat.” This time, the voice was a slight bit harder. Naomi looked pressed to argue again. A small screech filled the air as the bench was pushed backwards. Her small body slipped out easily. Slowly, the young lady walked across the front to the row where her desk and locker were (they were in the same general direction). Hope smiled as she passed by. The older began to walk the way Naomi came, sitting at the piano.
A few muttered words were uttered under the girl’s breath, “Trying to look despairing won’t work. It never does in front of her.” The lock slid up and opened the metal contraption. Naomi walked away to her desk, a loud bang following from the locker. She never did sit down. All the girl really did do was take out a small silver packet, re-zip the gothic-ish lunchbox, and throw the thing back into the locker with another slam. The girl smirked to herself, choosing to take a seat next to her teacher and the instrument.
Naomi wasted no time in making herself comfortable. The cheap green chair was pushed back somewhat, her feet resting on the side bars supporting the desk from the bottom. A mere look was given by the teacher, nothing more or less from that. That smirk was still plastered on her face as she ripped the package gently to reveal some strawberry Pop Tarts.
Small pieces were broken off the toaster pastry. Naomi popped each one in her mouth, chewing just a little bit. Hope already had turned back to her piano with her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The other watched, amazed, as the other began to play the song some of the girls were going to sing at graduation. The arrangement was simple, but it was off the top of the teacher’s head. Naomi longed to improvise like that… However, the teacher had been playing for much longer than herself.
“Come to the song, come to the dance. Bring all you are. Bring all you can be… Come with your voice, come with your heart.” Naomi found herself singing that softly along with the music. She had heard the other girls sing it before. “Come and journey with me… Come and journey with me…” The fourteen-year-old felt her mouth twitch up and squashed the thought. She walked over next to the older. Was Naomi actually singing? That’s what the teacher thought as she played the simple and repetitive music. The girl said she couldn’t sing, but here she was subconsciously doing so along with the beat. “Come let the sun fill up your eyes. Take the time, to look around…”
And so Hope joined in. “And love, just love, and walk with each other. Come and journey with me.” The other abruptly stopped, wide-eyed at the latest line. Suddenly, she choked on something invisible.
“I’m terribly sorry, but you know I had to choke at that,” the younger said softly as she beat her chest. She coughed a little more while the teacher completed that section of the music. Misty blue-green eyes looked at the other person with a bit of concern.
In the beginning of the year, the teacher knew it was somewhat of a ruse. Then the Halloween celebration came and began to change everything. The Christmas Party added onto that. After winter break, the diminutive just seemed to become more of a recluse from the world. Every time the teacher was closer to getting the girl to open up, there was an interruption, and everything was set two steps back. Maybe because it was the end of the year… Is that why Naomi was acting in such a way?
The teacher was brought out of her thoughts by the quiet voice. “You can move my music, you know.” Naomi pointed to the various sheets that were falling off the stand.
“That’s all right; it’s fine there.” Either way, the student picked each one up. They were set in a neat pile on top of the wooden cover. Come and Journey with Me was still sitting atop the stand back at the first page. Satisfied, the teenager sat back in her seat. Another strawberry Pop Tart was munched upon. Hope was poised to practice that song again.
“Mrs. Hope?” Both heads were turned toward the door. Naomi saw the algebra teacher there, so she turned sideways on her seat. It was not meant to be an act of ill manners, oh no.
… If I wanted to have a private conversation with another teacher, I wouldn’t want someone glancing at me every few seconds. The language educator stood up and walked to the door, back to being cheerful. My HT and MT worked together on Drama, and that’s what I think they were going to talk about. Both of them knew I was there, so they wouldn’t ‘gossip’, would they? The teachers did talk about the play, working out schedules for the next few practices. There were no mentions of stage crew; I decided to cease my attention from that point forward.
WRONG. About the gossip part, anyway. As soon as they were dome with the Drama portion of their conversation, I couldn’t help but notice that their voices dropped just a bit. However, I could hear them perfectly well.
WRONG. About the gossip part, anyway. As soon as they were dome with the Drama portion of their conversation, I couldn’t help but notice that their voices dropped just a bit. However, I could hear them perfectly well.
