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Hello! So I have decided to post my story here! I have been working on a book, I call ti Gerald. I do not want to give away my plot so I will not! You'll have to read it and see what comes. Feel free to discuss it, and give me advice on the writing. it is greatly appreciated! We will begin with the Prologue.

 

Prologue

I remember running and running, I could not turn back. He told me to run as far away as I could. I stopped in the middle of the woods, catching my breath. Should I go back for him? What do I do now? Looking around, I chose to run back to the small cabin house I had always known. Back to the vacancy that would await me. I stepped inside, seeing everything shattered. I skimmed through the house, down to the classic heater in the lower part. It was set full fire, and something obviously burning. My comfort was a simple note.

"Dear Julia,
I had given many warnings to what would come, however, none were noticed. I do not blame you. I would have never believed it if I were you either. I told you long ago the only way I could leave was to find peace, and I have now found it. I know you are safe, and the danger is nevermore. Now you will live, and I will be watching over you. You will always be my little sister.
Gerald
"

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Chapter 1:


My name is Julia Andrea Morrison, I am now fifty-six years old. I have been a successful author for thirty years now, and I finally decided to write a story I consider non-fiction, though many will disagree. This is the story no one would believe, the story of the untold dimension, the story of Gerald.


A normal school day it was, when I discovered a story I never knew. Eliza and I were walking home from school, when we saw the graveyard. Eliza's bright brown eyes lit up, and she smiled at me. "You said you wanted to write a sci-fi book right? Inspiration lies within the gates!" I rolled my eyes at my blue haired friend. "Inspiration is anything for you. You change your hair color once a month on a whim." Eliza crossed her chunky arms. "Not true! I change my hair color every two months!" I just turned around, and for a change took her advice. Walking into the graveyard, I was dazed by the many epitaphs written on the grave. Some were written for lost husbands, others for war heroes. I suddenly tripped over one of the grave stones, and I got back up. Oddly, the person had my last name. "Here lies Gerald Richard Morrison, the young boy who never found his justice." The stones engraving confused me. The wind began to blow my wavy blonde hair into my dark blue eyes. Julia? I heard a voice call out. I looked around and saw nothing. Eliza had begun to walk away. "Yo, Julia! Let's go home!" She called out. I looked up at her "I'll meet you there soon!" The voice called out my name again. I turned back to the grave I was overlooking, only to see a figure sitting upon it. It was extremely fair skinned, to the point it appeared unnatural. The hair color was a blonde that was almost a white color, and the eyes were a bright sparkling blue. "Who are you..?" I asked nervously, stepping backwards a few steps. The figure stood up, and gave me a sympathetic look. "The time... is near..." I stared at the apparition confused. "What do you mean? Time?" It looked at me intensely. "You will see... soon enough, Julia." Suddenly, it disappeared. I looked up, Eliza was already gone. In fear, I immediately began to run home.



When I was at home, I began to write in my journal. I used ideas from it constantly for book inspiration. "Dear Diary, today I saw a strange figure. I am not sure if I have lost my mind, or perhaps it was honestly someone of the next dimension. I have never been one to believe in ghost, but it seemed too real as I looked upon it. It kept telling me something about time... And I would soon discover what it meant by the time is soon. I am dazed by it, and probably am lingering on it more than I truly should. I will sleep on it, and return to the grave site tomorrow of Gerald Richard Morrison..." I shut my journal, and put it in my drawer. I threw on my silk pink pajamas and hopped into bed. I suddenly felt a breeze blow into my face. I sat back up, and looked to the window. It was open...but I did not open it. I walked over, and looked outside before quietly shutting it again. I heard a whisper say "You will be safe, Sister." I spent an hour searching top and bottom all over my room, only to find nothing. "I was hearing things I guess..." I sighed, hopping back into bed, and falling asleep. The morning would have a much bigger surprise for me.

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Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning, and realized my alarm did not go off. “Crap!” I shouted, jumping out of my bed. I had exactly thirty minutes to get ready for school and get on the bus. I ran to the bathroom, sadly skipping the shower. I threw on some deodorant and sweet pea perfume, with a thrifty sweater. I threw on my worn out skinny jeans, and my favorite pair of black winter boots, with the little fuzzy balls as accessories. I brushed my hair in a rush, and ate a banana swiftly before running out the door. I soon realized I forgot the most important thing for school. “My backpack!” I instantly ran back into the house, grabbing it and my homework. This was not my morning. I just missed the bus. I now watched it drive up my street, without me. There was no use chasing it now. My heart sank. I did not want a tardy star; I had never been late for school! I began to jog toward the school, praying I would get there on time. Suddenly, it felt like time fast forwarded itself. I found myself feeling more like I was floating, and being carried by someone. I couldn’t see anything, until I was at the front of my school. The feeling went away, and I got there with five minutes to spare. I knew I did not run that fast, something intervened. “This is becoming more mysterious…” I said to myself, before my blue haired friend walked up again. “Whoa, Jules! You were cutting it close today, you little rebel!” She winked at me. I rolled my eyes. “I did not intentionally do it Eliza, it was an accident.” She shrugged at me. “Well at least you got here!” The bell rang its familiar way, and all of us pushed to get into our first class.

The first class, as normal, was boring. Math was not my favorite subject. It had no artistic value to me, so why did I need it? I always asked this to myself every day. Nonetheless, I had an A in my algebra two at the moment, and was not going to sacrifice it because I was bored with the numbers and figures. Eliza as usual was talking to her friends rather than paying attention. I noticed another instance of bizarre difference occurred. As my teacher let us solve a problem, something was written on the chalk board. Only time will tell what comes next… - GM. I freaked out a moment, and turned to Eliza. “Do you see that?” I whispered to her. She looked at the chalk board. “It’s the math problem… that I really don’t care about.” She giggled at me. I turned back, the chalk board was back to normal. Am I losing my mind? I decided it would be better to bury my face in my text book, but it couldn’t be that easy. The teacher walked up to me. “Do not think I did not see you talking in class, Miss Morrison. Detention after school.” I was flabbergasted. Detention, me? I had never been to detention, and if I was punished why wasn’t Eliza in trouble? I guess this was the definition of life is not fair. The bell rang again, and I got up, feeling this was definitely a bad day. Eliza walked up slowly. “Sorry I got you in trouble, it wasn’t my intent. But what did you see on the chalk board?” I sighed sadly. “It said ‘Only time will tell what comes next’ with a signature from GM.” Eliza stopped and thought a moment, unusual for her hyperactive self. Instantly she said “GM is a motor company! General Motors!” I rolled my eyes at her once more. “Yes, but I didn’t see a worker of theirs walk in and change the math problem to that and then back again that fast.” Eliza looked around, then whispered to me. “Maybe the school is haunted…” Once more my dear best friend made no sense at all. “I’ll catch you later Eliza…” I began going through the halls toward my locker. As normal, it was quiet in my area. My locker was where the teenagers who didn’t really care about their homework were. Thankfully, I chose not to be one of them. As I opened my locker, a book fell out. It was not mine, but soon I noticed it was not truly a book. It was a missing person’s report. I opened the sheet of paper up, and it had a picture of none other than Gerald Morrison. It said he was only seven years old… It saddened my usually hard heart. I shoved it into my backpack, and grabbed my English book. It has a book marker in it, so I opened to that page, which landed on a poem with a line highlight. “I am nobody, who are you? Are you nobody too? Then there’s a pair of us! Don’t tell.” From an acclaimed author known as Emily Dickinson. My heart was dazed by the lines. Once more I was getting hints I did not understand. I walked on through the school to my next class in deep confusion.

Thankfully the rest of my day was somehow free from paranormal hints from the GM, who I am sure was Gerald at this time frame. Now I had to spend an hour of my already long day in detention. My math teacher was the one supervising, so I ended up having about fifty new algebra problems to do, on top of my normal homework load. It felt unfair I was the only one in there, when I easily analyzed half the other class talking to each other, texting, and being ignored by her. Although, I do realize I had a target on my back of her. After the hour that felt like three ended, she freed me to go home without putting it on my record. At least one good thing happened today… I began to make my way home. My house was away from most of the other children’s homes, into the woods. My family purchased the small area, as they told me, to escape the trouble of civilization in modern times. We could all live in peace in the woods of Maine. I would love to live more near the coast, where I could watch the fish and boats along the shoreline, but sadly this would not be a reality for me. My sheltered life did influence me creatively though, so I can thank them for this. As I was walking, once more my eyes set upon the graveyard. I began to walk toward the open gate, when suddenly it shut. I was stunned by the sudden notion to lock me out. A voice in the breeze spoke to me again. Not today, Julia. “Why not today?” I yelled back out. Thankfully no one else was around, because no response came. I just looked crazier by the moment. I began to walk toward my home again. I walked deeper into the woodland area, and finally gazed upon the mostly vacant house. It was a classic home to most, made entirely of logs, except for the glass windows. I stepped into my classic house. Our warmth came from a classic heater below, which was run by logs and flames. Our food was cooked by fire. I sometimes felt like a freak, living in a house of people still living like the pilgrims. My mother, Annetta, walked up to me. “Julia darling! You are so late today!” I looked down sadly. “I got detention… My math teacher gave it to me for talking in class…” My mother became flustered. “And how many other children who do the same or worse got detention? I keep telling your father homeschooling would be a better option, but he never hears me!” I sighed, considering I am already extremely isolated. “Mother, I do at least make friends there.” My father, Norman, then stepped it. “Very true, and troubles will come and go. We must put them in the past.” His short beard and sunken eyes always made a big impression on people. He was very well spoken for a man who had few relationships. My mother’s eyes were always alert and open. A bright hazel, sometimes I felt I took after her. She was a painter at heart, and made all her art materials by hand. My father had a job in town, where few people spoke to him yet. He was once more leaving to this duty, while Mother began cooking me something to eat. I went into my room again, and threw my backpack onto my bed. The missing child’s paper fell out again. I looked at it again, reading the description. Have you seen this boy? Gerald Morrison. 7 Years. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Last seen wearing a bright blue tee shirt and rugged jeans. If you see him, contact the local police. I was not sure who this boy was, or what he was trying to tell me, but my heart was set on finding out. “Okay, Gerald, the adventure begins tomorrow.” I said as I taped the paper to my wall. Tomorrow, the mystery begins to be solved…

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Chapter 3

My next mission would start a tad early. I woke up early in the morning, before the sun was even peeking. The window had blown open again. I slowly closed it back up, but when I turned around, there was a person in my room. I gasped in fear, picking up the nearest blunt object. “Now, there is no need for such drastic measures.” The familiar voice said to me. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, making sure my vision was clear. Upon my clothes chest sat a boy who looked extremely ill. He was the palest I ever seen a person, to the point I was sure he was a dead man walking. His eyes were a sparkling blue, and his teeth were whiter than his skin. The hair was a bleach blonde color, barely noticeable upon the already polarizing face. The eyes soon turned toward mine, with a dark aspect in their brightness. I stepped backwards, still holding the golf club which I picked up before. “You cannot play golf with my head, Julia.” My eyes softened at this note of sarcasm. Obviously, he had no intent to harm me. “That’s true…” I threw it down on the floor as if it was a movie prop I didn’t care for. The pale figure smiled at me, and I saw the golf club move without being touched. “I want that far away… Though it does not technically threaten me.” He gave a smirk, and then he disappeared without a trace. I was in shock of the incident. I searched all over my room for the boy, who was not to be found. I soon came to realize he was an apparition. “Apparitions are for the delusional though, aren’t they? I am losing my mind!” I thought to myself as I picked up my school bag. I went outside my room. My parents were sound asleep, so I easily tip toed out the door. I walked out to the graveyard, careless of the fact I was still in my pajamas. They were a sky blue color, with little sheep all over them. I saw the gate wide open, odd for this time of night. I stepped inside, and began to look around. Once more I passed graves with tragic stories of loss and true stories of love. It was as if I walked upon sacred ground as I passed through. A breeze picked up again without warning, and I turned around. Gerald’s grave words were glowing. I ran over, and bent down to touch it. It burnt my finger somehow, and I jumped backwards. “How is this happening?” Another strange instance occurred as the trees rustled without a breeze to accompany them, and a statue fell over. I began to feel the sense I was not welcome. “What did I do wrong?” I cried out, thinking I angered a spirit. No response came. In fear, I ran out of the graveyard crying, straight back to my house. I was stopped by tripping over my shoelaces. “Ugh!” I shook my head, tying them back up. When I looked up, a tall man was looking at me. It was the sheriff. “Crap…” I thought. It was far past curfew in the town, and I certainly was not eighteen. My only choices were to resist arrest and cause more problems, or just go with him and accept my punishment. Considering how puny I was, I took the peaceful measures.

I arrived at the station with what I came to know as Sheriff Orlando. He was a decent man, with a mustache that did not suite his pretty boy face. He was the new sheriff, considering the other had recently retired. “Alright, Julia.” His deep but gentle voice said to me, “Why were you out so late? No story is too crazy.” He smirked, remembering his old days of long hair and partying at night. I looked into the deep brown eyes, and hesitated to be honest. I would sound crazy if I spoke the truth. I decided it was the best option though, because I was always a terrible liar. “I have recently had this issue of seeing an apparition since I visited the grave yard earlier this week. I went back to see if I could figure something out… Some crazy stuff happened and I began to run home.” I looked down, knowing it sounded crazy even in my ears. Marcos Orlando, as his full name was, looked into my blue eyes. He was dazed by the story. While it seemed completely unrealistic, there were no signs of lying in my body language or voice. “Do your parents know you have been having this problem, Julia?” I shook my head, as I knew if I told my parents they would definitely call me crazy. “Well, Julia, apparitions can be caused by a lot of different things. Naturally we called your parents to come get you, but I do think you need to discuss this with them. Ghosts aren’t real, after all.” After his brief statement, he stood up. “This will be a warning to you. Don’t let me find you running around after curfew hours again, Julia.” He then walked back into his small office, where some case files laid on his desk. I sat in terror, wondering how my parents would react to this. I had never been to a police station in my life, and I doubt they planned on me going to one. After about twenty minutes, my parents arrived in the office. My worried mother immediately began to interrogate me. “Julia! What has gotten into you? Did something scare you?” She soon wrapped me in a tight hug, out of pure stress. My father was not as concerned about me as my mother was. “Julia, there are rules and you know that. In the morning we will discuss punishment for your disobedience.” Sheriff Orlando came out to join the conversation. “So, I am just giving her a small warning, considering this is the first time she has ever been in trouble, and also her story left me a little concerned of her mental health…” My father and mother looked at each other, and back at him. “What do you mean?” My mother asked him. The police knew my family quite well, as they contributed a lot to the work around town. “Well, Anetta, your daughter said she has been seeing apparitions since visiting the graveyard earlier this week…” He went on to tell the whole story, as I had told it to him. I was sitting in the chair I had been in before, worried as to how things would turn out. My father, Norman, looked at me finally. “Well, if this is the case, we cannot blame you for it. However, we will be getting you some sort of help…” He sighed, as he did not like the idea of therapists or medications. Anetta had simply begged him to allow it, because she did not want anything to happen to me.

I was soon back at home, and back into my room. It was now daylight, but considering the events I was exhausted. I looked up at my wall again, where I left the missing poster of Gerald. What was he trying to tell me? I remember how the graves glow burnt my fingers, and looked at the tips. They had blistered, as if I had touched a hot stove. I poked them, and managed to pop one. They seemed like a normal blister. Soon it was out in the town that the statue within the graveyard had broken. It was donated a long time ago, and many people adorned it. Considering the story of me being there, everyone in town blamed me for it. I did not touch the statue, but I wasn’t exactly eager to run outside and say a ghost from the place did it either. I knew from here on it was going to be a long, and possibly bumpy, road. My mother in the morning had made a call to a therapist office, and got me an appointment for the Tuesday of the upcoming week. My father demanded I stay indoors, not because he was angry, but to protect me from myself. It was all a bit confusing for me. I stared outside my window into the woods, wondering what was to come. I looked over at my diary, and went to get my favorite pen. I opened it to a blank page to write, but instead, I found a note. “Julia, the time is near. –GM” I slammed my diary shut, and began to cry. “Why are you doing this!” I threw my book across the room as I shouted this. My mother came in to check on me, and saw how upset I was. Annetta wrapped her arms around me, and whispered in my ear. “It’s okay sweetie…You will get better…” But did I need to get better? This was the next dilemma. I soon calmed down, and laid down to sleep. The conversation did not end there.
 

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This is a reeee ally cool, like cowarbunga cool, story.  I think you should begin the story with the characters already in the graveyard. Or you could just leave out the first paragraph. Ms P would call that a good hook. Also, I would tell the story from the point of view of a teenage girl, rather than an older woman. That’s just me.

 

I like this image, “The wind began to blow my wavy blonde hair into my dark blue eyes.” But I think that the narrator should not describe herself. You could put it in the conversation with the voice. The voice could call the narrator “oh blue eyed or blondie or ...” the voice could say how the wind blows her hair. Or her blue eyes could be in the conversation with the other girl. “I dyed my hair blue to match your eyes. ”

 

I added some notes to the text like this (notes, notes)

 

My name is Julia Andrea Morrison, I am now fifty-six years old. I have been a successful author for thirty years now, and I finally decided to write a story I consider non-fiction, though many will disagree. This is the story no one would believe, the story of the untold dimension, the story of Gerald.

 

A normal school day it was, when I discovered a story I never knew. Eliza and I were walking home from school, when we saw the graveyard.  (why commas after was and school? Ms P hates commas.)

 

Eliza's bright brown eyes lit up, and she smiled at me. "You said you wanted to write a sci-fi book right? Inspiration lies within the gates!" 

 

I rolled my eyes at my blue haired friend. "Inspiration is anything for you. You change your hair color once a month on a whim." 

 

Eliza crossed her chunky arms. "Not true! I change my hair color every two months!" 

 

I just turned around, and for a change took her advice. Walking into the graveyard, I was dazed by the many epitaphs written on the grave (plural?). Some were written for lost husbands, others for war heroes. I suddenly (Ms P would ask, if suddenly tripped is different from tripped) tripped over one of the grave stones, and I got back up. 

 

Oddly, the person had my last name. "Here lies Gerald Richard Morrison, the young boy who never found his justice." 

 

The stones engraving confused me. The wind began to blow my wavy blonde hair into my dark blue eyes. 

 

Julia? (missing quotes?) I heard a voice call out. I looked around and saw nothing. Eliza had begun to walk away. 

 

"Yo, Julia! Let's go home!" She (or The voice)called out. 

 

I looked up at her (what her, the voice? Maybe this should be = I looked around for the voice)

 

"I'll meet you there soon!" The voice called out my name again. I turned back to the grave I was overlooking, only to see a figure sitting upon it. It was extremely fair skinned, to the point it appeared unnatural. The hair color was a blonde that was almost a white color, and the eyes were a bright sparkling blue. 

 

"Who are you..?" I asked nervously, stepping backwards a few steps. 

 

The figure stood up, and gave me a sympathetic look. "The time... is near..." 

 

I stared at the apparition (…)confused. "What do you mean? Time?" 

 

(Famous line in Bhagavad Gita. "I have become TIME, the destroyer of the world." )

 

It looked at me intensely. "You will see... soon enough, Julia." Suddenly, (Ms P hates suddenly) it disappeared. I looked up, Eliza was already gone. In fear, I immediately (and she hates immediately) began to run home.

 

When I was at home, I began to write in my journal. I used ideas from it constantly for book inspirtion. (typo) 

 

"Dear Diary, today I saw a strange figure. I am not sure if I have lost my mind, or perhaps it was honestly someone of the next dimension. I have never been one to believe in ghost(typo), but it seemed too real as I looked upon it. It kept telling me something about time... And I would soon discover what it meant by the time is soon. I am dazed by it, and probably am lingering on it more than I truly should. I will sleep on it, and return to the grave site tomorrow of Gerald Richard Morrison..." 

 

I shut my journal, and put it in my drawer. I threw on my silk pink pajamas and hopped into bed. I suddenly felt a breeze blow into my face. I sat back up,(comma?) and looked to the window. It was open...but I did (had not opened it?)not open it. I walked over, and looked outside before quietly shutting it again. 

 

I heard a whisper say "You will be safe, Sister." 

 

I spent an hour searching top and bottom all over my room (for?), only to find nothing. 

 

(I thought to myself?)"I was hearing things I guess..." I sighed, hopping back into bed, and falling asleep. The morning would have a much bigger surprise for me.

 

(If I had written this, I think that Ms P would  have asked me to use the personal pronoun, I, less. She didn’t like repeating words. I know that sounds odd. The story is written in first person, so naturally the narrator with say, I this or I that, but it is still a repeating word.)

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Sweeeeeet, I'm working on a book too.

 

Your book is cool so far, I'm happy to meet a fellow future author.

 

:D

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I like what you've got so far! I'll post more comments and such when I've less homework to do.

... I wish my stories were CTF friendly. XD

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Same :(

I need more beta-readers.

Maybe my angels and demons thing would be okay.. hmmmm...

ANYWHO.

I like what you’ve got so far, Swiftie-ticket.   I’m very intrigued by these super natural  happenings and I can’t wait to read more!

Gerald is the name of one of my villains... so, seeing someone else with a Gerald makes me giggle. XD

The main issues I’m seeing aren’t in regards to content, but formatting. Each piece of dialogue should be indented like a new paragraph. Indents are easy to do on Word but rocking them out on CTF can be hard. With your next post/draft, I suggest you make sure the dialogue bits are set outside of the chunks.

Like-a-this:

“How’s my partner in crime fighting this wonderful day?”

Morgan laughed. “Can’t complain.”

“Brought your favorite.” Trent grinned. He pulled out the coffee cup opposite his, the one with “M” on and then passed her a steaming hot Venti latte.

“Aww, Trent.” Morgan grinned, the sunlight from the nearby by window dancing off of her honey blonde curls. “You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s what friends do.”

“ I’ll get your breakfast tomorrow.” She offered, taking a sip of the hot drink. “Mmmm…”

“Sweet! I will hold you to that.”

Setting up dialogue like this makes it easier to read and follow along.  This is especially helpful in a first person story where the main character is consistently talking to the reader all the time.  It helps distinguish whom is saying what.

How old is Julia in this story? Your character has a very mature voice. Based on the clothes she wears (skinny jeans, boots with pom-poms) I feel she’s a teenager but her voice sounds like that of an older woman, in her fifties or so.  Is young Julia telling the story or is it grown up Julia? That, I feel, needs a bit of clarification.

When you use phrases, such as “the sun was peeking”, you need a preposition to accompany them. Such as “The sun was peeking over the horizon”, “through the curtains”, stuff like that.

My mother in the morning had made a call to a therapist office, and got me an appointment for the Tuesday of the upcoming week. My father demanded I stay indoors, not because he was angry, but to protect me from myself. It was all a bit confusing for me. I stared outside my window into the woods, wondering what was to come.

“In the morning,” or “That morning, my mother had,” flows more naturally than “My mother in the morning.”

Also, you’re TELLING me Julia is confused by all this. Can you show me? Phrases like “I furrowed my brow in bewilderment,” or maybe she DOES something else to express confusion, such as ask a bunch of questions to herself to figure it out. Paint a picture with your words. :D

 

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Thank you for that Boogles!

as to my awkward sentence flow...it is not the first time I have had this problem...My English teacher often finds a sentence or two she underlines and says "awkward" or "no" XD

The OLDER Julia is telling the story, I will try to find places to clarify more.

As to the confused section, I will try to throw in some more detail. It is my biggest problem XD I am trying so hard to not be vague.

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You're welcome!

A good trick is to read your stuff aloud. If it sounds funny, try to reword it so it reads naturally.

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Chapter 4


Annetta began to throw wood into the classic furnace. Her mind was filled with worries about her young daughter. Norman looked at his wife, taking off his fedora. “You are thinking about Julia?” He interrogated. Annetta stood up and turned to him. “What do you think is happening?” Norman put his head down. “I think she is a bit delusional. Perhaps she wants more attention from us.” Annetta became angry. “Or maybe this is your fault! You remember-“ Norman immediately cut her off by putting his hand over her mouth. “Do not mention that fiend here.” Her eyes seemed to shake with fear. “We will not discuss him.” Annetta nodded finally, and Norman took his mouth off. She turned back to the house work, wondering her daughter’s state. “There is so much she does not know…many things she will never know…” The mother saw a window fly open, but nothing was there. She looked around the room. Her husband was not to be seen. She walked up to the window and shut it. “You know you are not welcome here, child…” In this instance, the window shattered. Annetta ducked to avoid the flying glass from hitting her, and then assessed the damage. It appeared to be a fist… Norman reappeared in the room, looking at the broken window. “You fiend! You cannot win this battle; you have no control of this situation.” He gave a bitter eye to the window area, with no reply to his words. Annetta tried a more warm approach. “Now, dear, this is no way to be. Just cool down…” There once more was no reply. “He left again. He needs to stay gone…” Norman turned his back and walked away. Annetta mourned over the situation.


The commotion caused me to awake, and walk into the room. I had been hiding in the corner. “Who were they talking to..? And who broke the window?” I thought to myself. My mother walked away from the scene, and I went to assess it myself. It appeared someone had punched the window out. So why was there no blood? “Julia…The time…” I heard someone whisper. I knew it must be Gerald again. “Gerald, why did you break the window?” The next thing I knew he was seated on the countertop. “Your father gives me quite the temper…He has no remorse, you know.” I was taken aback by such an accusation. “Who are you to say my father has no empathy?” He smirked. “I said remorse, but he does not have much of that either my dear.” I was quite offended by his pet name. “I am no ‘dear’ to you. Do not call me so!” Gerald stepped off the counter, or do ghosts ‘float’ off? I could not tell. “Shall I show you something?” I was a bit confused, show me something? What would a ghost desire to show me? “I suppose I will look with you…” Gerald began to walk into my living room, to a certain area in the floor. This place in the floor was always a bit crooked. My father did not like me walking on it, and told us not to. However, it was in the middle of the floor, so it made navigations difficult. “Yeah, that needs fixed. I know Gerald.” He looked at me with intense eyes, and kneeled down to the boards. He took his eyes off me, and lifted the wooded area. I was confused, as I saw stairs hidden underneath. “Is it a secret passage?” He stood up, and pointed down. I assumed he wanted me to go down into the passage… I at first hesitated, but accepted after a few moments and began to slowly walk down. I could still scrap rough dirt off the walls, so it was not meant to be a room… When I reached the bottom, I was stunned by a large capacity of rusty tools hanging about. There was hoes, scythes, and other classic farming tools. I touched the tip of one of the scythes and pricked my finger. “Ow…” When I turned away, I saw a wall coated with some sort of paint. I was confused by this. The job appeared very sloppy, almost hand painted. I walked over, staring at it closely. “Gerald…What is this place?” I wondered if it was his secret dungeon… It appeared the ghost had disappeared again, so I was left to investigate myself. I pulled my hand off the wall, noticing my pricked finger had stained the wall in a small place. I looked closely. “This looks a lot like the paint…wait…” I jumped up in terror. “Did you just show me where you died?” I shouted up again. I was so confused. Was this before my parents were here? Did they even know of this areas existence? Was it truly his blood? Maybe I was getting carried away, far too paranoid. “It’s just a crummy paint job…” I told myself, and then I raced up the stairs and out of the bizarre room. I sat down, and caught my breath, before the wood panels were thrown back on top, and the ghost was looking at me again. “That is just paint. Right?” I asked him. He did not say anything to me. He pulled up my hand, and analyzed the wound upon my fingertip. After a small glance, he applied a band aid. “I didn’t know ghosts had compassion…” I joked with him. He gave me quite a dirty look, so I assumed he did not take it well. “Be careful, Julia.” He stated, and once more he was gone. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if this was all a bad dream. He never answered my question, so I was left restless, wondering what the red on the walls was. I looked up to notice the sun was rising. “Time for school…” I barely got any sleep. This was quite frustrating. “I suppose I could sleep through English class…” I giggled to myself. I went to my room, and began to get ready. I suddenly heard my parents together again, and went to my door and laid my ear against it.


“Norman, you have to understand!” My mother shouted. My father seemed to have stepped forward. “Annetta, listen to me, if you know what is good for you, you will forget about this!”


“No I won’t!” She yelled, before I heard a large crash. I was too afraid to open up my door and see what had occurred, but I heard footsteps from both soon enough. “Must have been a bad argument…” I sighed. What was Mother supposed to forget? The phone in my room began to ring. I picked up. “Hello?” It was Eliza. “Hey! Guess what?” She said with her usual bubbly voice. I needed something positive today. “What?” I replied the common answer to such words. “No school today! Apparently the boiler in the school caught on fire! Woohoo!” I never understood her. Yes, it was nice there was no school, but it was awful how it came to be. “Eliza, I wouldn’t cheer about a fire…” She cut me off calling me an over-sensitive goody two shoes. “Come on now, if you were like everyone else you’d cheer!” I sighed softly. “But you should know by now my friend, I am not.” I said, before hanging up the phone. The only thing I enjoyed about this was now I could lay down and sleep, and I did exactly that.


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Guest Aria

That was good! :) Thanks for posting it for everyone to read!! Keep it up and never quit writing! 

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Guest Aria

(The only thing you might wanna do is separate your paragraphs each time someone new is talking...like this: 

"Hey!" His greeting was accentuated with an excited wave. 

"Hi! It's bee a while since we saw each other! How's life?" I replied, smiling politely despite the fact I'd rather chew on rusty nails than be speaking to the guy who ruined my life.    

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