Chosen One

“The chosen one” they had called her, she would one day save the world….To bad she had already sided with the Dark Lord. She was supposed to do some astonishing thing that would help humanity and make world peace, or something like that, but, she wont. “The chosen one” was Stephany. She had blond hair and blue eyes. She was small at the age of 16, only four foot eleven inches. Stephany wore expensive clothing, always walking around getting tips and stuff for being the chosen one. She only has one thing though that could kill her, she has it in her possession, and it is the silver orb. It floats above the ground or any surface, and will kill Steph is she smells the radiation or touches it. Oh, and her family? All dead, killed by the Dark Lord seven years ago in search of Steph. She is what some would call different, and others exciting. Her brother, the only last living one, other than Steph, has disappeared off the face of the earth, but is still alive. Exciting childhood, huh? Well, I wouldn’t know, I’m only a news reporter.

“What’s going on?” Steph screams! How do I know this? She trusts me, I go with her, and I stick by her side. Crazy how I got myself into this actually. I sat there, tied up in a stupid chair, surrounded by stupid good people. I couldn’t talk though, I was a pretty good person. I didn’t like that Steph was showing her bad side. I couldn’t say anything though because I was just, the news reporter. I don’t know how I even did this. I sit with Steph forever, I don’t know how long though because I’m still sitting here. If you can’t tell, you’ve basically entered my mind and I can write by thinking. The year 3027 is great, so many new things. Oh my goodness, I must stop getting side tracked. “Help, help!” Steph screams, what do I do? I guess she thinks someone might be able to hear her. The problem is that she, nor I, know where we are. I could be millions of miles under the dirt right now, and I wouldn’t know. I’m quite mad about that because I always know where I am, I’m a 17 year old boy, of course I do. Steph’s cries for help continue and I do not know what to say to comfort her.

“What ARE you screaming about!?” I don’t know what I’m doing but I’m furious about this whole situation all of the sudden. “DO YOU THINK SOMEONE CAN POSSIBLY HEAR YOU? ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU MUST BE STUPID TO THINK THAT.” andddd her hair turns red. Bright red. She is, what’s a good word for bright red? Horrendously furious is a good one I believe. Uh-oh. I’m going to end up getting hurt some how.

“Touch the rope, Steph.” I know why, she’ll burn through it. It’s like magic. She grabs the rope, and a searing sound comes to my ears. “Do me, now.” she burned through her rope really quickly. Putting her hands on my rope, she glares into my eyes,

“Sometimes I can not believe you,” she mumbles. I look her up and down. I see everything is alright, until I see her thigh. “Oh my goodness,” I whisper. She glares at me, “What is your deal? Do you have a problem with me? I can let you go,” she snaps her fingers, “like that.” I look at her. She is crazy! How does she not feel that? “No Steph, your leg.” I blurt out quite panicky.   Blood is soaking her whole leg, and I’m freaking out at this point.

“Oh yeah,” she whispers, “I feel that.” and then…. Oh my gosh, she freaking passed out. Oh no, what do I do? I need to escape, but I can’t leave her. I’m picking her up. Bending down, I realize tears are running down my face. One… two…. three. I lift. I run. Everything is blurred because a puddle of tears is filling my eyes. I hope I don’t trip. Nobody is running after us. That is very odd. I slow to a walk. Looking down at the mess of her upper thigh. The shiny bullet is still in her. I’m trying to build up the courage to take it out right now. I don’t know if I can. I’m reaching down. I can do this. I look at the target(the bullet) and focus on getting it out. Oh my goodness. This is not good. The shiny silver bullet ripped through her skin. It came from a .40 caliber. The exit hole is the worst, though the bullet barely went through the skin. It is huge!! “Stephany!” I hissed at her, sure to keep my voice. I decide to once again, but louder, “Stephany!” I yelped. I am frustrated. Oh no, quickly reaching for her wrist to find a pulse. It’s there, but it is slow. “Walk” I mumble to myself.  The door is right there. So, I just walk out, no struggle. Well, maybe a little bit because I tried to push a pull door. All she wanted to do was find her brother. I set her down outside, in hiding. Pretty far away from where we were. Good news is that we were still on land, not in the ground. I start pulling off my shirt to reveal my abs. As my shirt came off my head it ruffled my jet black hair. Yeah, I’m describing myself with a lot of pride, but it’s true. I have a 6 pack from working out, midnight black hair, grey-blue eyes- cloudy but clear in some way. The shirt is wrapped around her leg tightly. She still looks gorgeous. I feel for a pulse once again, still there. I pull through my black backpack, in search for a needle and thread. BINGO!! I got it. I’m holding the cloth on it a bit more, pushing don harder each second. I realize in this moment that I must do this now. I quickly pull off the bloody shirt, my tears hitting her leg as I do it. I try to put the thread through the needle. Goodness!! I can’t get the thread through. Come on!! 8th tries a charm? Go through!! Oh!! I got it! I frantically hold the wound together. Her foot was twitching frantically, in the wrong direction. What the heck? I don’t know anything about this! Imma just do this, the worst that can happen is her leg falling off, right? I pierce the skin with the needle, and the rest I’m not going to describe as you are reading this. In about 3 minuets the wound was sealed, but it needed medical attention. I know she cant receive it right now, though. Her foot has stopped twitching, but she isn’t waking up. She looks horrible, but I find that oddly cute. The wind is blowing her hair, and she looks so peaceful from the waist up. My tears have stopped and I’ve started to realize that she is mumbling. I wouldn’t be able to, to save my life. Her eyes flutter open, and a sudden realization comes upon her face.

“Wha…What happened?” she asks stumbling over her words. I don’t know what to say, so I just stare at her wound. And we don’t say anything else, for a long time. We sit, she cries, from pain, and probably something else too. I do not know how to comfort her, I want to, but I don’t know how. Maybe if I had parents, that’s something I would have learned. There is nothing I can do though, they left me. Alright, alright, alright. I’m okay. I’ll be just fine. I have friends, I think. I’m pretty sure I do, I, um, just haven’t seen them in a while. Three years isn’t too long.

“Are you okay?” I ask, I hate to see her in pain. Or crying. She looks at me and the words start falling out of her mouth,

“I’m in pain, I can’t do this anymore. I just want to find my brother. That’s all. I feel like the world doesn’t want me too though, everything I do gets stopped one way or another. I always get hurt,” she whispers glaring at her leg, “Or hurt someone else…” these last words hang in the air.

 

“We have to travel,” she says finally.

I agree with a nod of my head. She tries to stand up, but a shock of pain makes her face tighten. I rush to her, picking her up in my arms. “It’s okay. I promise. I’ve got you. Rest now. Just don’t die on me,” I say with a slight grin. I see she takes it the right way when she grins also. She has… that smile. The smile that lights up the world. It’s amazing, and breath taking. I don’t understand how to explain it. It’s just, wonderful. Her eyes shut, slowly. Gracefully. I can’t like her though. I can’t. I don’t know why, but something, deep, deep, inside screams “no!”. Gosh, everything in this year, is being changed. Trying to be fancy, I guess it is, but I do not like it. They, or the government, is going through a phase again. Everything is silver, but I liked it when it was gold. Or black, that was a good one too. The government is like a teenage girl, so many phases, styles, and designs. Everything is changing. I remember when I was little, everything was so different. There wasn’t changing things every other month or so, or people that think they are fancy. They are NOT fancy, they are infact, ugly. So ugly that I don’t like going outside. I go outside for Steph. That’s all. Nothing else. I’d rather just stay inside and listen to music. I know Steph feels different. I met her because she was helping with a program that helps inverted kids, become, well, social. My mum sent me. I got paired with her. I became her helper. I became her news reporter. This was when we were younger, and she has become my second family. I know for her though, that I was her only family. That broke my heart sometimes.

“Dude? Have you listened to me?” oh shoot. I forgot about her while thinking about her. The world around us has changed, but we are the only ones that have stayed the same. I give a weak smile,

“No?”.

“Well that’s good. I though I might have been thinking aloud…”

“And what were you thinking that you didn’t want me to hear?”

“I was just thinking…. that you are a complete idiot.”

She grinned. She was standing for a while now. So I decide to start walking. Strait pain on it would probably hurt more than walking, right? I’ve never been shot, so.

Steph drops to the ground, I reach down for a pulse. There is none.

 

I’ve been laying over top her body for what feels like an eternity, just praying that she’d wake up and tell me it’s a prank. But it never happens. Nobody remembers her, and she doesn’t have any family. What do I do with her?

I scoop her up in my arms. I’m looking for a spot for her to rest, forever. Would a meadow be a good spot for her? Yes. I walk over to a meadow, and dig a shallow grave. Placing her gently in, I scoop up dirt with my hands. I accept that she is with God now. She is almost covered, everything but her head. Then, her head is. I plant a sunflower where she is. I take the long hike home, and ask my mum to pick  me up, she knows where I am.

Mum sees I’m alone. No Stephany. I get in the car as tears roll down my face. I’m accepting defeat.

 

 

 

 

I woke up one morning to the sound of my mum calling my name, over and over again. “Ugggg,” I moaned as I rolled over to smell of bacon, and the sudden realization that it was Saturday. “Bethany come out here now! Your sister has news!” my mum said angrily. She pulled her blanket out of bed and trudged to the kitchen with the blanket around her body. “What mum?” I groaned, I should be sleeping in and instead I’m here. I looked up from the ground that I was staring at and the fridge door caught my eyes. “Wha..What is that”? I questioned, very confused. My sister was 6, and this was work of an older artist, someone much better than my grubby sister. My mum was smiling at me, and glancing to my younger sister occasionally. It was odd, though, because the same drawling was pasted everywhere, exactly the same picture, everywhere. Can you tell how annoying it was? Probably not. Well, I live in the fridge, if I have to look at that all day long, it will drive me crazy. My younger sister, Bailey, looks at me in approval. I give a nervous nod in response, not very fond of her drawings. She giggles and runs off to her room. When she is out of ear shot I pitch an idea to my mum, “How about we take them down now and forget about this whole thing?” I smile awkwardly and hopelessly stare at my mum. I know she’ll say no, Bailey means so much to her, everything she does is “Perfect” and “Should never be changed” so I knew she’d say no. Suddenly, a thought came into my mind, “Where’s dad?” mum smiles and then Bailey comes in dragging her away to play a game or something. Okay, I just need to change my clothes… Then I can go for a run. Perfect plan, go for a run, clear my mind. Alright, leggings, running shoes, and a shirt of some sort. I jog to my room covered in band posters and book posters. I stop jogging and walk over to my closet, swing open my doors, and stair at my clothing choices. A ‘My Chemical Romance’ shirt, more for working out though, some black leggings and my blue ‘Nike’ running shoes. Throwing on my clothing, I remember my phone and headphones. Can’t forget the most important part! I leave my room closing the door with a sigh, “Goodbye beloved room,” I think, “I will see you again.” and yell to my mum, “Going out for a jog! Ill be home soon!” no response to my loud yell.  So, I go out and close the door behind, and as I do, I hear a noise like the fluttering of papers behind me. I whip around, kind of disturbed and nervous of what I’ll see. And, lets see, about 20 of the same drawling that Bailey made. Alright, well, 20 more of the trash/amazing art. Turning around I realize, it’s exactly the same as Bailey’s. Odd, but, whatever. I turn on my music and wait like, forever, or maybe just 20 seconds. Run, or maybe just walk. No I have to jog. Nope, I’m walking for now. What the heck happened? There were like 100 trash art pictures posted around everywhere, which I just realized have the same signature on each and every one of them. No, I saw this in a show once, but, it was a romance, so probably not the same thing. This is super weird. Not odd, strait up weird. Something out of, I don’t know, a movie? I’d say that producers or something are filming around here, I mean, I do live in London so there are a lot of movies filmed around here. As I continue walking, I see a lot of confused faces questioning why there are these pictures everywhere. The pictures kind of look like doors, but the door is open and there is a portal on the inside. It’s a very odd thing to be drawling. I turn the corner and hear a phrase that goes something like this, “Those darn kids, I can’t believe they, Oh hey Bethany! Out for a run I see!” I give a nervous smile and say the first thing that comes to my head, “Yeah, these drawings are kind of trippy.” Then I realize he is an old man around the age of 80, “Yeah there really kind of weird.” He smiled at this remark, and seems to bubble in the face. I continue to walk without another word, other than bye. What is up with these drawings? I come across a couple of young kids wearing masks that look very scary, “Hello boys!” I say, towards them. I realize they’re drawing the same picture I see everywhere, and then one boy stands up and goes and hangs up the drawing. I decide to turn back and go home. This is all kind of weird. What is going on? I start to jog, loosing myself in my conspiracies. I approach the house and go inside to hear Bailey crying. Whatever, I’m going to my room. I hop online like usual, and see all over my news wall these pictures. Okay, time to read into this stuff. I click on the Google search bar and type in ‘Weird drawings that kids are drawing’ and what come up is astonishing. Nothing, nothing comes up. Wow. I thought Google knew everything. Nope. Figuring this out on my own I guess. Okay, so what I know right now is,

• Kids are drawing it
• They are all the same

aaannnddd, nothing else. Yep, nothing else. I don’t know what to do. I’m going outside. “Going outside mum!” andddd, no reply. Whatever. I’m going out. A noticeable flutter of papers? Check. And the old man on the corner? Check. Everything is the same. One thing is different though, the pictures. It is a face now, still the port door but now a face is hanging up to. Same signature on every single paper. Why do I have to walk?” I mean, yes I know I’m lazy, but still. Then, it hits me. I don’t know what it is, but all I want to do is draw. That hits me for like a long time. But not too long. I come across a little girl. Who is she? No clue. “Hey! What’s up?” I say. She gave me “that look” and started to reply but went back to drawing. I sit down next to her, “Hey!” she gives me an annoyed look in return. “Hey simple and non creative old person,” I probably should not take offence to that, but I do. I’m only 15, I’m not old. “What are you drawing?” I whisper, quite scared now. I have a reason to be scared, I noticed that she has no white part in her eyes, all blue. “I’m just drawing a picture everyone draws.” she said, not looking up from her paper.

All of the sudden, she got up and walked away, and so did all of the other kids. Some left their houses, others just got up and left. I left, didn’t know where I was going, Then I realized that I was following all of the kids. At a distance of course. “Ding, ding, ding, ding” My phone! A couple of kids glanced at me, but kept walking forward. I saw that some mothers were running after their children and some dads too. But, a force field thing blocked them, where as I could just walk through. Now I see where the kids are going to. A lady was standing in the middle of the flat section of land the kids were going to. Holding that picture all the kids were drawing. I glance down at my phone. “What is going on with these kids?”  “Help! Where is my brother going?!”  I know now where they are all going. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I will save them. I run up to her, just as she is opening a floating door and preaching something to the kids. And…. woah, all their eyes are black now. Okay then. I charge up and slam the door. Oh my goodness what am I doing? Ohmygoodness…. WE ARE PLAYING TUG OF WAR WITH A DOOR! “NO! NO!” I scream. This can’t happen, she will not take anyone. She wins the game though, and I wrestle as she tries to push me through the door, I don’t know what to do anymore. I wont loose though. Jumping up, I try to make the positions flip, throw her in instead. I can do it. And, I will do it. Flipping her over I jump on top of her. The next few seconds I cant recognize. I just know that I hear a lot of cheering. And no more door.

I wake up in my room, my family and friends crowded around me. Cake stuck in front of my face, and “You did the impossible” all around me. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon.

 

 

 

 

First blog post

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Piolet

Hiya! Just like every great t.v. show, I’m calling my first blog, the piolet. On my blog I…

1. Never give out names
2. Information and location are kept secret
3. No hate

It’s just that simple. I am open to suggestions. All I wanna do is share my, writings, stories, and funny stories. Follow if you like!