November 4, 2011

New Story! Please Comment I Would Like Feedback!

Posted in Uncategorized at 2:27 pm by packer1nfl

Hi everyone, sorry I always kind’ve just leave… forever… Anyway, I have begun writing a story that is completely unrelated to Club Penguin and is probably my first legit book I’m writing. Now, it’s still in the early development, so chapters are only like the length of two ACP Stories chapters (they may appear smaller, but since there was so much dialogue in ACP Stories, they seemed longer). I think I’m going to release the Prologue and the beginning exerpt from Chapter 1. I tried to make it overly deep and detailed like most books . In these chapters, you will see asterisks (*). These will either be by places using “___” or a fake name. I included these because if I used the actual names, well, that’d be bad for a website . Like I said, please read and enjoy!:

PRELUDE

Things were easier before the war. There was no bloodshed. There was no gunfire. There was no hate. At least, these weren’t familiar to a suburb. In ______*, a small town in Central Florida, there was routine. Kindergarteners would play in the sandbox without a care in the world. Exuberant children would run home from their bus stops into the embrace of their loving parents. People would eat in restaurants to celebrate accomplishments achieved in the week. Cars and buses in the dozens were common to be seen on roads. And there was peace.

However, this is not the same story I am talking about. In this story, there is bloodshed. There is gunfire. There is hate.

Before the war, I had been a normal student at ________* High School (a sophomore if I remember correctly; it’s been so long). Wavy blond hair that reflected Florida sunshine as if it was a mirror and ocean blue eyes were what I used to be. But now … Now I am a killer. I am a stealer of people’s fathers and brothers, cousins and uncles. I am a liar, and I deserve no mercy. And yet, I’m not one of the bad guys. In this war torn wasteland we once called the planet Earth, I am defending the side of liberty and prosperity for all of mankind; there are those that defend it, and those who desire to ruin it.

CHAPTER ONE

The days before the war started off habitually; I woke up, got dressed, combed my muddled hair into a uniform order, and went to school. In my World History class, we began presenting our current events. A student whose name escapes me at this time read about the birthday of North Korean president Kim Jong-il. My teacher, Coach Smith*, commented on rumors that people had begun, stating that North Korea would declare war on South Korea during this celebration that would last a week. Oblivious to it at the time, I was not aware this “celebration” would last decades. After class, I began talking about football and the disparity between my celebrated Green Bay Packers and my friend Anthony’s woeful Miami Dolphins. At the time, the two teams at the bottom of the NFL were considered to be in the drawing for the much-anticipated quarterback of the Stanford Cardinal, Andrew Luck; this was commonly referred to as the “Suck for Luck” sweepstakes. Anyway, as I normally would, I would almost attempt to keep an eye on my friend and crush, _________*, at times to see who she was talking to.

Luck was exactly what I needed; not the exulted Stanford quarterback, but pure, simple luck. Throughout days such as these, I would normally attempt to see if she ever had someone talking to her. If she did, I would best ignore that and continue on my way, as I did not know many of her friends. However, whenever she walked alone, I was always quick to get by her side to talk about random shit I couldn’t even remember by the time I got home. The point is, I just wanted a reason to talk to her. Did I really care about her cross country meets? That’s up for debate, but I certainly could care less about other events, such as one of her family members’ birthdays.

Nevertheless, as I had been checking, _____* was talking with her friends Veronica and Brandon. I always thought to myself that only God would make sure the one class I could talk to her as much as possible that she would have a multifarious amount of friends to steal my talking time with her. As I normally would, I continued to fade in and out of my conversation with Anthony, making humorous remarks throughout to maybe get _____*’s attention. However, I was saved by the bell, and the class as a horde marched through the doorway. Miraculously, however, _____* was walking in the hallway alone. I always used to joke to myself that occurrences such as these only happened every thousand years. As I began talking with her, I found myself talking about the weather. Yes, the weather. The one stereotypical conversation starter, and I was using it. However, during this conversation, I really didn’t care about the weather. Hell, to this day I’m not exactly sure if the November of ’11 was cold or uncharacteristically hot; I just wanted to make her laugh.

There was something about _______*’s laugh; the way it occurred never seemed to bore me. It always started in her dimples, and the dimples would work their way through a crease in the cheeks to the constantly erect lips she had. At that moment, as if the entire universe would pause in amazement for God himself to watch what he had created, her mouth would open and her eyes would squint as she let out a slightly obnoxious laugh. Now, don’t get me wrong; I loved her laugh. In a way, the over-the-top nature of it was what amused me the most. In a way, it was almost as cute as a child’s laughter. I can’t tell you enough how I long to see her face again- her eyes that only few had been told were hazel as opposed to the common misassumption that they were as dark brown as her curly hair, her nose that looked as if Michelangelo had carved it out of stone himself, and those lips that were a temptress towards my emotions as I longed for them to reach out to mine. What I wouldn’t give to feel those lips again… All of these characteristics, along with the juvenile laugh her body emitted, were simply a handful of reasons why I longed to be with her, even to this day.

It was fairly obvious that the feelings weren’t mutual. I had taken the cheesy route with her, making her a birthday card the year before and constantly complimenting her. However, everyone knows how teenage girls are; they always want to be with the badasses, not the guys who actually care. ________* was a nice girl, she really was, but even she was victim to this trait that I abhorred so strongly. Still, I considered her a good friend, and to this day I believe that she considered me the same.

After the swift conversation that ended with no “bye” or “see you later”, I found myself at home, constantly contemplating whether to text her. Yes, I would frequently find _______* on my mind. In the end, I would always give up; agreeing that receiving no reply would hurt worse than not sending the text at all. Besides, I would have a conversation starter for tomorrow at school.

Thursday came faster than I had planned. As usual, I found myself staying up until 1 a.m. to finish watching a repeat of the episode of Conan O’Brien. The morning routine was almost second nature to me: wake up, get dressed, comb my jumbled hair clumps to look as if I put effort into my appearance, and go to school. However, today would not be a repeat of yesterday, I remember promising myself as I rode in the dawdling carline of _______ High School. How right I was.

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