The Library News Bulletin
{PS: This is some superheroes X-Men. I had this art for a very long time and have no idae who the artists are. I think it's the original comics creators. The ghosty is Wicked, while the other is the Infamous Lady Deathstrike}
The Library News Bulletin
It’s that time of the week, where I will be sticking to all fiction and writing related and provide the freshest Tuesday Teaser, since I completed it only minutes before posting. Anyways first I start by announcing that I finally received “Unleashed” by Kristopher Reisz (Kris, the Bulgarian post finally decided to bring it), “Amberlight” by Sylvia Kelso and “Dark Maiden” by Norma Lehr (Theresa, did you teleport these, because they came rather fast?).
“Wish Away” is coming along pretty well, if you ask me, mainly because I write it at school, while my teachers drag about really boring things and that is the perfect environment to concentrate and get some words done! The story is several pages long in the note book and well I think that’s good. I didn’t bother doing the word count manually.
Also while writing this story I had an amazing epiphany about writing that has never occurred to me at all. I mainly struggle with dialog for two reasons: A) I write the most boring cliché lines and I have to think hard to make it a bit more spicy and B) I always get distracted with the tags, because while characters talk I like them to do something, think something or simply dump info and I need to imagine what they are doing while saying their lines. In the end I forget what the other character was going to say next and writing dialog is turning out to be a small scale apocalypse. A) simply can’t be handled any other way and I have to think, but B) is easily overcome. I scribbled down the dialog, just lines without anything else and then I number them, after which I simply take my time for the tags. This is my writing epiphany! Thank you for listening!
As for me novel I wrote the days 1K and I am very proud. Getting something done takes time and I know I should be studying and after this blog post I will, I promise, but it feels so good.
Here is my progress meter:
25765 / 80000 words. 32% done!
Now all things aside it’s time for the teaser! Enjoy:
“Hey, how are you?” The question came out of nowhere and with its mellow and annoyingly softy timber materialized the handsome owner of the voice, metaphorically speaking. Matthew sat on the nearby chair in the corner and stared at me with those big dark eyes. Boy, how that made me sick and feverish at the same time.
“Pretty fine actually.” I flipped with my wrist a couple of times, while I leaned back on the wall of my bed. Boy the cool touch made me want to moan. “I was just about to go out and pick daisies to braid my hair.” Which was almost none existing, burned, reduced to mere fuzz scattered here and there. The heat clenched me again and I gritted my teeth.
“I was just trying to be polite you know. You don’t have to attack me.” Defensive eh? We shall see how well you can hold off me. Hypocrite asshole. The temperature rose as high as it never was and I searched for the soothing metal coolness of the bed railing. The unpleasant déjà vu of getting my skin boiled all over again crept eerily, but this time my soul was covered in blisters.
“Well then let’s cut to the chase. I died Matthew. How am I supposed to feel right now? Please enlighten me cause I seem to be so helpless without your guidance.” Sarcasm is the bookworm’s best weapon and defense. Wonder why I never thought of acting this way, even since I was thirteen? The urge to bite my skin and make it stop itching caused my body to shudder and twist, but each and every word I spat out scratched that sour spot.
“It would definitely seem that way and you didn’t die.” Matthew stared at me, gaze firm. He seemed unreachable, cold. Should have expected that. The god of sarcasm himself made the perfect fortress that I would conquer.
“Yes, the fuck I did Matthew. I was sent straight to the otherworld like a cork of a champagne bottle and then pulled back by that thing.”I mimicked with my hands the motion of a cork exploding from the bottle and flying off into unidentified space and then shuddered at the last two words. The memory of that ghoul hovering above me stabbing multiple ice spike of fear all over my body.
“You actually should kiss his ass for bringing you back and as far as the proper terminology goes, it’s a he and he is a Grim Reaper.” His voice almost roared. Good sign. He was getting angry and what pleasure bloomed inside of me. This wasn’t me, no not even close to what I have ever thought. I cowered before what I did, but the intoxication erased all guilt.
“Since when are you so concerned with the rights of the supernatural creatures and who the fuck asked him to bring me back! Not me! As far as I go he could have just let me go. You certainly would breathe easier after that.”
“What shit are you spewing at me?”
“Oh, come on, Matthew, drop the selfless caring soldier boy act. You treated me like dead weight everywhere we went. It’s hard not to get a hint. I’m not a stupid girl, you know.”
“Not true. I would never wish you to die.”
“Quite on the contrary, but I understand perfectly. I would have done the same in your place and what an excellent plan that was. Leaving poor helpless, already half dead Samantha with the weirdos left to ward off big demons, while you are tucked away in the core of the whole barrier. Evil genius and you even didn’t get a scratch. Just one question though. Why would you bother bringing me back? You sadistic or was your conscience ringing bells?”
“Ethan is dead. We found his corpse several miles down the river stream and Tallulah is nowhere to be found either. We think she died too.” The words swung at me like a heavy scythe and I slumped back to the bed, struggling to keep control over my breath and tears. The room stopped rotating in front of me and my skin seized to crawl.
Sanity kicked into high gear inside my head and I realized what I had said to Matthew, how I sounded, what I did. The spell was broken and I felt ashamed, not any better. But that lasted only a second. I clenched my fists and writhed in the bed, twining my legs around the sheets, tears clawing my red face. A scream escape my mouth, blood freezing. Was this really me? I couldn’t answer. I was too afraid to face the truth. Morgantown scarred me and I feared I couldn’t be repaired.