(no subject)
Hey yall. Okay, so, I've kind of had this inspiration for a story going through my head for about a year now, and I've never really taken the time to do anything about it even though I know I could make it absolutely fantastic. I've had a shortened version of the first chapter prepared for about 6 months, but haven't built off of it. So today, I spent an hour writing some more and editing and I made it through half of chapter 2. I was just wondering what all of you thought of it, so if you'd like to, please read and then give me the brutal honest truth. Should I continue or not? I guess the introduction isn't very telling, but either way... what do you all think?
Chapter 1
The Introduction
It was a warm and welcoming summer’s day in the quaint little town of Oak Pointe, California. Laughter of innocent children playing and the chatter of their gossipy parents rang throughout the town; it seemed everyone was enjoying the perfect summer’s day. That is, everyone except for Milo Velasco. You see, Milo was not one to waste precious time outside, soaking up the warming sunshine like everyone else. No, Milo was much different and he was perfectly fine with the way he was.
Milo Velasco was one of many fourteen-year-olds throughout the world currently enjoying their summer vacation from a full term of school. Being only mid June, Milo still had about two and a half months of relaxation to look forward to and he planned on taking complete advantage of such time. He would lounge around the house with no need to manage his scruffy brown hair or properly attire his tall, thin structure. His contacts lay comfortably in his beside table, giving his oceanic blue eyes a break from the constant irritation. No, during his vacation, Milo felt no need to worry about his personal appearance; who was he going to see anyway? The only people he planned on coming in contact with was his family.
The Velasco family contained a mere six members; a mother, father, three daughters and Milo, the one and only son. To start off, there is the hardworking father, Kaleb Velasco, owner of a very successful and powerful world-trading corporation. He, like Milo, had thick brown hair, rosy skin and was very thin with eyes that were the deepest shade of brown. His job demanded several working hours, so Kaleb was rarely seen spending much time with his family, often working late into the nights and leaving long before the crack of dawn. Those times that Milo had spent with his father, though few, had left a good impression on Milo’s outlook on the relationship they shared and became very fond of his father; Kaleb became the perfect role model for Milo. Yes, Mr. Kaleb Velasco was the ideal father figure and businessman that most families aspire to have as their own.
Secondly, there was the darling mother, Hazel Velasco. Being a mother of four children and a home employer, Hazel never found much time for herself, even with the help of the several servants found lurking around the many shaded corners in the gargantuan Velasco home. She had a very pretty, glowing face, cheeks always rosy, and thin brown hair, always kept in a tight and flowing ponytail. She could often be found zoning out in front of one of her many desktop computers, running through order forms for extravagant faux floral arrangements off of the website that she owned and managed, simply named “Velasco Floral Arrangements”; the popularity that tagged along with this business was greatly unexpected though. Milo thought that sometimes his mother’s customers were a bit demanding, forcing Hazel to work late into the night, creating the most extravagant of arrangements; his mother always did a fantastic job, and he admired each and every arrangement he was lucky enough to come across. As a mother, Hazel also did an excellent job. Whenever she was not consumed with her business, Hazel could always be found playing with her two beautiful baby girls, Abigail and Ivy, or just enjoying the limited time she had with her two older children, Lillian and Milo. Mrs. Hazel Velasco indeed did a phenomenal job as a mother in the Velasco family and they would not choose otherwise.
Then, there are the four Velasco children: three daughters and one son. The youngest daughter, Abigail Velasco, was just barely a year old. She had short, messy, brown hair that stuck out in every direction. Her face too was always rosy and she had a round, bulgy belly, but Abigail was never seen without a smile on her face. Hazel was constantly buying the best clothes for her “little angel”, dressing her in the most adorable and expensive clothing that never ventured too far from the clothing that her sister Ivy wore. The times where Abigail was not able to transport herself were now long gone; Abigail was a maniac and walked all over the house. Her tiny, stumpy legs dragged across the floor as she moved through the hallways and into several rooms, walking in a clumsy matter, as though she had just spun around several times. Even though Abigail was such a high maintenance child, everyone absolutely adored the youngest of the Velasco family.
The second youngest daughter, Ivy Velasco, was a mere two and a half years old. Requiring less attention than Abigail, Ivy could often be found alone in her room, playing contently with a few of her hundreds of dolls. From outside her door, you could hear her speaking in her own gibberish, laughing and providing confusing, yet never-ending, dialogue for her dolls to follow. Her long and thin brown hair was usually in tight pigtails and her cheeks, like everyone else in the Velasco family, were draped in that same pale pink tint. Ivy loved spending time in front of her television, watching several shows to which she could quote at any time throughout the progression of each program. Ivy too was quite the little angel for a girl of her age and the Velasco family loved her dearly.
The last and oldest daughter, Lillian Velasco, was a thirteen-year-old nightmare when compared to the other two daughters. While she could play sweet sometimes and could even be considered nice on rare occasions, Lillian, or Lily as she preferred to be called, was not one to mess around with. Lily was hardly ever at home; she liked to spend most of her time at the mall with all of her wealthy, conceited and spoiled friends. While she was quite smart in school, Milo never saw her moving very far with such an education; he just thought that she was not sincerely smart enough and did not plan on applying herself. Milo often teased her, saying that Lily “spent more money than she was even worth” but knew that deep down inside he felt some connection to Lily, no matter how strong their oppositions were. Even though Milo and Lily shared the common sibling relationship, Lily was none-the-less an accepted member of the Velasco family.
The last Velasco child, obviously, is Milo. He was the oldest of the four children and was very different from each of them. Milo loved his family dearly and adored spending time with them, but time was limited for the Velasco family and unfortunately, time was not a tangible item that could be bought. Abigail and Ivy loved playing with Milo; he always managed to put a smile on their faces. Lillian, on the other hand, spent most of their time together arguing with Milo for the most moot of topics. Milo too, like his sister, did very well in school; he worked very hard and earned the A’s he felt he deserved. Milo never really associated with anyone when he was at home; excluding those moments he enjoyed spending with his family. For a kid his age though, Milo sure did carry a lot on his back.
You see, being born and raised into such a busy and wealthy family, Milo never saw the need to leave the comfort of his own home. His house was absolutely enormous, appropriately placed in the richest of all neighborhoods, and yet it still managed to stand out in that neighborhood with its several crystalline windows and copper awnings, huge, deep red front door and the extravagant chandelier directly above it. Yes, the Velasco home was gorgeous and admired by many, but the outside was overlooked when compared to the interior of the home. Inside, everything had to be the best for the Velasco family. Flooring ranged from the most intricate marble to the softest, handmade carpet or deep, cherry, wooden flooring. The kitchen was surrounded with marble countertops and flooring, with stainless steel appliances placed neatly throughout. Several other rooms filled the house, each with a different purpose; there were the bedrooms, guest bedrooms, several dens, a study, a nursery and more. The house had ceilings that looked as though they just opened up into the heavens, and yet, Milo never found any of this satisfying. No, Milo Velasco found his pleasure in the silence of the comforting Velasco library.
You see, to Milo, the library was his haven. He had an entire library full of books at hand; filled shelves that started from the polished, hardwood floors and traveled all the way to the tope of the towering, intricately painted ceiling. The shelves were filled with books ranging form the most simplistic of all children’s novels he once enjoyed as a toddler all the way to advanced medical textbooks he had just found interest with indulging himself in. Dim lighting from the two fireplaces at opposite ends of the room made the library so much more comforting to Milo and on either side of the room, in front of each fireplace, lay two dark, violet colored, velvet armchairs with huge golden buttons and one old-fashioned lamp. Milo could often be found curled up in one of the armchairs in front of a glowing fire, reading through the limited light that the flickering fire and dimly lit lamp provided. In fact, it is in this immense and silenced library that we first encounter Milo, fast asleep with a book sprawled out on his chest.
Chapter 2
The Gift
“Hey… Hey Milo… Wake up Milo…” beckoned an innocent, soft and soothing childish voice, “…Hello?… Milo?… Please… Milo!… Wake up!”.
Milo, having been woken with a start, opened his eyes wide and scanned the room as it came into focus. He lifted his hands from the cover of his thick book and heard it crash to the floor with an unforgiving clank as he wiped his eyes. Seeing that the room was as clear as it was going to get without having his contacts on, he searched through the corners of his eyes to see who had woken him up. In fact, he was quite unsurprised when he saw a short, slender girl gazing at the side of his face with her watching hazel eyes, freckled face and tight red ponytail.
“Hey Cindy,” said Milo as he finally came into complete concentration, “Thanks for making me lose my page… and I was just getting into the interesting stuff about the heart.”
“Oh blah blah blah… is that really all you ever talk about Milo… boring stuff that I’ll never understand?” retaliated the oblivious Cindy with an air of boredom. “I’m super bored, so I think you need to get your nose out of that book and just come play with me.”
Milo stared at the young girl as she slowly crept closer to his unwelcoming face. He really did not want to have to deal with her right now. You see, Cindy McAllaster was not your average attention thriving six-year-old. No, Cindy, like Milo, was different and was excluded from the group of people her age. Even so, Cindy tried her best to be acquainted with the rest of the energetic children her age but unfortunately never found the acceptance she strived for. But Cindy McAllaster had fair reason to be discriminated from her age group because Cindy was a ghost. Being a ghost, Cindy had a hard time forming relationships with people, because being a ghost means that a living person cannot see you. That is, a living person without a gift.
Since the day Milo was born, he had been blessed with a special gift; a gift that not many knew even existed. This gift provided Milo with the ability to see and communicate with those that had passed on. While most people believe that once dead you are given access to the “other world”, this was actually a false statement. Although it would be untrue to say that some are not just granted entrance to the “other world”, most actually stay in human presence for quite some time; a time that can only be set through the determination of the one seeking access. And it is with little Cindy McAllaster’s case that things get a bit difficult.
Cindy and Milo had first met 8 years ago on their first day in Mrs. Violet’s first grade class. From their first hello, these two grew quite close throughout the progression of the year. They were always at one-another’s side, laughing, talking and having a good time; a time that was cut short on a tragic April afternoon. On that April afternoon, Milo had gone to class as usual, upset to find that his best friend Cindy had not shown up. He sat alone in his desk in the far corner, practicing the dotting of the “i” and the crossing of the “t” until something caught his attention. From the corner of his eyes, though the rim of his glasses made the view blurry, Milo had seen his best friend, standing outside in the warm spring shower. He stood up, walked toward the window and stared at Cindy in confusion.
“Let me in!” ordered Cindy as she watched the rain hit the pane of the school window messing with her view of her close friend.
Milo waltzed over to the door that lead outside when the clank on a phone stopped him in his feet. It had been Mrs. Violet who so angrily hung up the phone, but as Milo looked closer, he noticed stained tears fell from her prettied up eyes. She then contained herself, cleared her throat, stood up and looked at the class.
“Excuse me… class, please listen up” summoned Mrs. Violet, as she yet again cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that I have some bad news… about one of our students. You all remember Cindy McAllaster, right?”
“Yes Mrs. Violet” chimed the first grade class in an almost rehearsed sounding answer.
“Well children… I’m sorry to say that we will not be seeing Miss McAllaster again any time soon. There’s been an… well, there’s been an accident” said Mrs. Violet, as her eyes once again filled with familiar tears, forcing older tears to trickle down her cheek and splash onto her desk. “You see class, on her way to class today, Cindy was in a car crash… a serious car crash.”
There was a quick intake of breath as the children in the class listened intently, all previous thoughts fleeing completely from their mind.
Mrs. Violet spoke once again, saying, “I… I don’t really know how to put this class, but Cindy McAllaster passed away in that car crash, along with both of her parents and baby brother.”
Milo laughed out of confusion as he continued his journey toward the door leading outside. As he opened the door he said, “Mrs. Violet, Cindy is standing right here… outside in the rain. Cindy isn’t dead.”
He then beckoned Cindy to enter the classroom and she entered with a smile, waving at the rest of the class. Yet, to both of the children’s surprise, no one had even acknowledged the fact that she was in the room.
“I’m afraid you’ve been greatly mistaken, Milo. Cindy is not able to come back to class” uttered Mrs. Violet out of pure discomfort.
Milo glanced at Mrs. Violet in complete awe and the looked back at Cindy. Cindy stood there, as real as anyone else in the classroom, and yet no one else seemed to see her. Having a very premature mind, Milo once again attempted to explain Cindy’s presence.
“I’m telling you Mrs. Violet, Cindy is standing right next to me, as real as you and I are” fought Milo. He then looked at Cindy and whispered, “Say something… anything!”
“Um… hey guys. Have any of you seen my parents?” asked Cindy with a whimper, clearly as confused as Milo was. But it was not at until this time that Milo had noticed the tears trickling from Cindy’s face; those weren’t raindrops. In fact, Cindy appeared to be as dry as a cactus in the middle of the desert.
Chapter 1
The Introduction
It was a warm and welcoming summer’s day in the quaint little town of Oak Pointe, California. Laughter of innocent children playing and the chatter of their gossipy parents rang throughout the town; it seemed everyone was enjoying the perfect summer’s day. That is, everyone except for Milo Velasco. You see, Milo was not one to waste precious time outside, soaking up the warming sunshine like everyone else. No, Milo was much different and he was perfectly fine with the way he was.
Milo Velasco was one of many fourteen-year-olds throughout the world currently enjoying their summer vacation from a full term of school. Being only mid June, Milo still had about two and a half months of relaxation to look forward to and he planned on taking complete advantage of such time. He would lounge around the house with no need to manage his scruffy brown hair or properly attire his tall, thin structure. His contacts lay comfortably in his beside table, giving his oceanic blue eyes a break from the constant irritation. No, during his vacation, Milo felt no need to worry about his personal appearance; who was he going to see anyway? The only people he planned on coming in contact with was his family.
The Velasco family contained a mere six members; a mother, father, three daughters and Milo, the one and only son. To start off, there is the hardworking father, Kaleb Velasco, owner of a very successful and powerful world-trading corporation. He, like Milo, had thick brown hair, rosy skin and was very thin with eyes that were the deepest shade of brown. His job demanded several working hours, so Kaleb was rarely seen spending much time with his family, often working late into the nights and leaving long before the crack of dawn. Those times that Milo had spent with his father, though few, had left a good impression on Milo’s outlook on the relationship they shared and became very fond of his father; Kaleb became the perfect role model for Milo. Yes, Mr. Kaleb Velasco was the ideal father figure and businessman that most families aspire to have as their own.
Secondly, there was the darling mother, Hazel Velasco. Being a mother of four children and a home employer, Hazel never found much time for herself, even with the help of the several servants found lurking around the many shaded corners in the gargantuan Velasco home. She had a very pretty, glowing face, cheeks always rosy, and thin brown hair, always kept in a tight and flowing ponytail. She could often be found zoning out in front of one of her many desktop computers, running through order forms for extravagant faux floral arrangements off of the website that she owned and managed, simply named “Velasco Floral Arrangements”; the popularity that tagged along with this business was greatly unexpected though. Milo thought that sometimes his mother’s customers were a bit demanding, forcing Hazel to work late into the night, creating the most extravagant of arrangements; his mother always did a fantastic job, and he admired each and every arrangement he was lucky enough to come across. As a mother, Hazel also did an excellent job. Whenever she was not consumed with her business, Hazel could always be found playing with her two beautiful baby girls, Abigail and Ivy, or just enjoying the limited time she had with her two older children, Lillian and Milo. Mrs. Hazel Velasco indeed did a phenomenal job as a mother in the Velasco family and they would not choose otherwise.
Then, there are the four Velasco children: three daughters and one son. The youngest daughter, Abigail Velasco, was just barely a year old. She had short, messy, brown hair that stuck out in every direction. Her face too was always rosy and she had a round, bulgy belly, but Abigail was never seen without a smile on her face. Hazel was constantly buying the best clothes for her “little angel”, dressing her in the most adorable and expensive clothing that never ventured too far from the clothing that her sister Ivy wore. The times where Abigail was not able to transport herself were now long gone; Abigail was a maniac and walked all over the house. Her tiny, stumpy legs dragged across the floor as she moved through the hallways and into several rooms, walking in a clumsy matter, as though she had just spun around several times. Even though Abigail was such a high maintenance child, everyone absolutely adored the youngest of the Velasco family.
The second youngest daughter, Ivy Velasco, was a mere two and a half years old. Requiring less attention than Abigail, Ivy could often be found alone in her room, playing contently with a few of her hundreds of dolls. From outside her door, you could hear her speaking in her own gibberish, laughing and providing confusing, yet never-ending, dialogue for her dolls to follow. Her long and thin brown hair was usually in tight pigtails and her cheeks, like everyone else in the Velasco family, were draped in that same pale pink tint. Ivy loved spending time in front of her television, watching several shows to which she could quote at any time throughout the progression of each program. Ivy too was quite the little angel for a girl of her age and the Velasco family loved her dearly.
The last and oldest daughter, Lillian Velasco, was a thirteen-year-old nightmare when compared to the other two daughters. While she could play sweet sometimes and could even be considered nice on rare occasions, Lillian, or Lily as she preferred to be called, was not one to mess around with. Lily was hardly ever at home; she liked to spend most of her time at the mall with all of her wealthy, conceited and spoiled friends. While she was quite smart in school, Milo never saw her moving very far with such an education; he just thought that she was not sincerely smart enough and did not plan on applying herself. Milo often teased her, saying that Lily “spent more money than she was even worth” but knew that deep down inside he felt some connection to Lily, no matter how strong their oppositions were. Even though Milo and Lily shared the common sibling relationship, Lily was none-the-less an accepted member of the Velasco family.
The last Velasco child, obviously, is Milo. He was the oldest of the four children and was very different from each of them. Milo loved his family dearly and adored spending time with them, but time was limited for the Velasco family and unfortunately, time was not a tangible item that could be bought. Abigail and Ivy loved playing with Milo; he always managed to put a smile on their faces. Lillian, on the other hand, spent most of their time together arguing with Milo for the most moot of topics. Milo too, like his sister, did very well in school; he worked very hard and earned the A’s he felt he deserved. Milo never really associated with anyone when he was at home; excluding those moments he enjoyed spending with his family. For a kid his age though, Milo sure did carry a lot on his back.
You see, being born and raised into such a busy and wealthy family, Milo never saw the need to leave the comfort of his own home. His house was absolutely enormous, appropriately placed in the richest of all neighborhoods, and yet it still managed to stand out in that neighborhood with its several crystalline windows and copper awnings, huge, deep red front door and the extravagant chandelier directly above it. Yes, the Velasco home was gorgeous and admired by many, but the outside was overlooked when compared to the interior of the home. Inside, everything had to be the best for the Velasco family. Flooring ranged from the most intricate marble to the softest, handmade carpet or deep, cherry, wooden flooring. The kitchen was surrounded with marble countertops and flooring, with stainless steel appliances placed neatly throughout. Several other rooms filled the house, each with a different purpose; there were the bedrooms, guest bedrooms, several dens, a study, a nursery and more. The house had ceilings that looked as though they just opened up into the heavens, and yet, Milo never found any of this satisfying. No, Milo Velasco found his pleasure in the silence of the comforting Velasco library.
You see, to Milo, the library was his haven. He had an entire library full of books at hand; filled shelves that started from the polished, hardwood floors and traveled all the way to the tope of the towering, intricately painted ceiling. The shelves were filled with books ranging form the most simplistic of all children’s novels he once enjoyed as a toddler all the way to advanced medical textbooks he had just found interest with indulging himself in. Dim lighting from the two fireplaces at opposite ends of the room made the library so much more comforting to Milo and on either side of the room, in front of each fireplace, lay two dark, violet colored, velvet armchairs with huge golden buttons and one old-fashioned lamp. Milo could often be found curled up in one of the armchairs in front of a glowing fire, reading through the limited light that the flickering fire and dimly lit lamp provided. In fact, it is in this immense and silenced library that we first encounter Milo, fast asleep with a book sprawled out on his chest.
Chapter 2
The Gift
“Hey… Hey Milo… Wake up Milo…” beckoned an innocent, soft and soothing childish voice, “…Hello?… Milo?… Please… Milo!… Wake up!”.
Milo, having been woken with a start, opened his eyes wide and scanned the room as it came into focus. He lifted his hands from the cover of his thick book and heard it crash to the floor with an unforgiving clank as he wiped his eyes. Seeing that the room was as clear as it was going to get without having his contacts on, he searched through the corners of his eyes to see who had woken him up. In fact, he was quite unsurprised when he saw a short, slender girl gazing at the side of his face with her watching hazel eyes, freckled face and tight red ponytail.
“Hey Cindy,” said Milo as he finally came into complete concentration, “Thanks for making me lose my page… and I was just getting into the interesting stuff about the heart.”
“Oh blah blah blah… is that really all you ever talk about Milo… boring stuff that I’ll never understand?” retaliated the oblivious Cindy with an air of boredom. “I’m super bored, so I think you need to get your nose out of that book and just come play with me.”
Milo stared at the young girl as she slowly crept closer to his unwelcoming face. He really did not want to have to deal with her right now. You see, Cindy McAllaster was not your average attention thriving six-year-old. No, Cindy, like Milo, was different and was excluded from the group of people her age. Even so, Cindy tried her best to be acquainted with the rest of the energetic children her age but unfortunately never found the acceptance she strived for. But Cindy McAllaster had fair reason to be discriminated from her age group because Cindy was a ghost. Being a ghost, Cindy had a hard time forming relationships with people, because being a ghost means that a living person cannot see you. That is, a living person without a gift.
Since the day Milo was born, he had been blessed with a special gift; a gift that not many knew even existed. This gift provided Milo with the ability to see and communicate with those that had passed on. While most people believe that once dead you are given access to the “other world”, this was actually a false statement. Although it would be untrue to say that some are not just granted entrance to the “other world”, most actually stay in human presence for quite some time; a time that can only be set through the determination of the one seeking access. And it is with little Cindy McAllaster’s case that things get a bit difficult.
Cindy and Milo had first met 8 years ago on their first day in Mrs. Violet’s first grade class. From their first hello, these two grew quite close throughout the progression of the year. They were always at one-another’s side, laughing, talking and having a good time; a time that was cut short on a tragic April afternoon. On that April afternoon, Milo had gone to class as usual, upset to find that his best friend Cindy had not shown up. He sat alone in his desk in the far corner, practicing the dotting of the “i” and the crossing of the “t” until something caught his attention. From the corner of his eyes, though the rim of his glasses made the view blurry, Milo had seen his best friend, standing outside in the warm spring shower. He stood up, walked toward the window and stared at Cindy in confusion.
“Let me in!” ordered Cindy as she watched the rain hit the pane of the school window messing with her view of her close friend.
Milo waltzed over to the door that lead outside when the clank on a phone stopped him in his feet. It had been Mrs. Violet who so angrily hung up the phone, but as Milo looked closer, he noticed stained tears fell from her prettied up eyes. She then contained herself, cleared her throat, stood up and looked at the class.
“Excuse me… class, please listen up” summoned Mrs. Violet, as she yet again cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that I have some bad news… about one of our students. You all remember Cindy McAllaster, right?”
“Yes Mrs. Violet” chimed the first grade class in an almost rehearsed sounding answer.
“Well children… I’m sorry to say that we will not be seeing Miss McAllaster again any time soon. There’s been an… well, there’s been an accident” said Mrs. Violet, as her eyes once again filled with familiar tears, forcing older tears to trickle down her cheek and splash onto her desk. “You see class, on her way to class today, Cindy was in a car crash… a serious car crash.”
There was a quick intake of breath as the children in the class listened intently, all previous thoughts fleeing completely from their mind.
Mrs. Violet spoke once again, saying, “I… I don’t really know how to put this class, but Cindy McAllaster passed away in that car crash, along with both of her parents and baby brother.”
Milo laughed out of confusion as he continued his journey toward the door leading outside. As he opened the door he said, “Mrs. Violet, Cindy is standing right here… outside in the rain. Cindy isn’t dead.”
He then beckoned Cindy to enter the classroom and she entered with a smile, waving at the rest of the class. Yet, to both of the children’s surprise, no one had even acknowledged the fact that she was in the room.
“I’m afraid you’ve been greatly mistaken, Milo. Cindy is not able to come back to class” uttered Mrs. Violet out of pure discomfort.
Milo glanced at Mrs. Violet in complete awe and the looked back at Cindy. Cindy stood there, as real as anyone else in the classroom, and yet no one else seemed to see her. Having a very premature mind, Milo once again attempted to explain Cindy’s presence.
“I’m telling you Mrs. Violet, Cindy is standing right next to me, as real as you and I are” fought Milo. He then looked at Cindy and whispered, “Say something… anything!”
“Um… hey guys. Have any of you seen my parents?” asked Cindy with a whimper, clearly as confused as Milo was. But it was not at until this time that Milo had noticed the tears trickling from Cindy’s face; those weren’t raindrops. In fact, Cindy appeared to be as dry as a cactus in the middle of the desert.