Well, the first week of NaNo is over and I'm still breathing. One of my characters isn't, but I told him from the very beginning he wouldn't be lasting long. I hope he didn't mind. I would ask him, but... like I said, he's not speaking anymore.
October. It's that crazy month where all the writers begin to realize NaNoWriMo is only four weeks away, and they better come up with some kind of plot if they want to make it to 50k. After being interviewed by an honest to goodness newspaper man on the subject, I was forced to decide what I would be writing this year. As a spur of the moment choice, my beloved characters of old won out. "Great. Well done. Now we wait." -Mahoney"No. We breath. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds well used is a lifetime." -Mr. Magorium
December 1st. All those who succeeded, go to bed three hours early because they don't have 1,000 words to write before they can. Eat carrot sticks like they're candy because they're tired of living off chocolate and cheez-it's, and watch a movie. Just because they have the time.“I hope you know what your doing.” Luna whispered from behind him as the sound got nearer.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned, “not a clue.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Like the girls, their room was almost at the end of the hallway. Room V-8. Weston laughed when he saw it.
“What’s so funny?” Grant asked.
“V-8.”
They all stared at him, not understanding the humor in the words.
“V-8.” He said again, as if just hearing the words would clear everything up for them. When they continued to stare he sighed, “it used to be a brand of tomato juice.”
Ranen stood in the middle of the Practice Hall. Breathing in and out heavily. It was almost the end of his half hour session and he had worked hard. Sweat glistened on his forehead, soaked his shirt, and covered his arms. The bubble wrap beneath his feet popped as he stepped forward, bringing his hands out in front of him. One last go before he left.
With a shout that would have made Ganghis Khan shiver he raised his hands above his head, palms up. Fire leapt from his hands. It collided with the sealing with a loud crash, spreading across the bubble wrap and crawling down the walls. It surrounded him in its heat, and breath taking power.
“I have no idea, but I have a feeling they’re harmless.” Grant said.
“I’ll laugh if you move and they bite your head off.” Luna replied.
“Yeah, I’d like you see you laugh while I’m being ripped to shreds by animals that will be turning on you next.”
“Okay, I might not laugh, but it would have been ironic. If those had been your last words.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe the things you find to amuse yourself.”
“It took years of practice.”
“And here I thought you had been born with the gift.”
“None of it makes sense!” She shouted, and that’s when he felt the terror. A fear unlike he any he had ever felt before, one he hoped he would never have to go through again. She was scared, more then scared. No words could describe the feelings she was going through, and unconsciously sharing with Weston.
“It makes no sense!” Exie repeated, “but we’re here anyway! In the dark, in this box. No way out!” She screamed.
Finally, he came to a small wooden door, the knob on it in the form of a large ring. No locks adorned it, with a simple pull he entered the room beyond. One small candle cast light on the small platform he stood on. In front of him, nothing. He wasn’t sure himself how far you would fall if you happened to be pushed over the edge, but he liked to imagine it was long enough to be fully terrified before meeting the bottom.
"Laughter is timeless.
Imagination has no age.
And dreams are forever."
- Walt Disney
