Let's All Write STORIES!!! discussion

Sara walked in her aunt's front door and threw her stuff on the sofa, and then collapsing onto in "Uhhhhhh." she groaned

((so... renaissance time period?))

((then... what's with the coach?))

((i turned it to sofa))

Sara stopped in the threshold of the kutchen amazed at what she saw.....

A giant island cluttered with pots and pans almost filled up the enite kitchen, and the sink right of that was overflowing with green plants. Dried flowers and plasic feet hang from the ceiling. A rug was lying driectly benith her feet, but she didn't dare step onto it: on the rug was a pattern of thorns, and real thorns were slowly growing out of the rug, along with a few leaves. The window above the sink wasn't looking out onto the driveway of the house, but into a giant library, the shelves filled with bean cans instead of books.
Wow, Sara thought, I have some weird aunt.

((Oh! I get it!))

((er..woo0t?))

((Kiki???))

((Yes, kiki. KIKI WHAT?))

((her name is sara))

((whos?))

((oooooooooooooo I get it now. Opps. ok.))

"Hi sweety!" her fat aunt sat on the floor surrounded but cats. "Come on in!"

Sara carefully stepped over the thorns growing out of the rug. A bright yellow tabby crawled up to her and began to mew. Sara reached her aunt and tried to clear a space for herself, shoving cats out of the way; they all growled in protest.
They both sat there for a while in silence. Finally Sara had the courage to ask, "You wanted to speak to me?"

She glanced at the yellow tabby with ciriousity and fear--Lucinda, what a pretty name--and it blinked up at her. Sara had the disticnt thought that this was no ordinary house pet her grandmother was living with! She finally choked out, "Can all the other cats talk too?"

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Sara thought again that this was just too much. She couldn't handle this! Talking cats?! Bean cans?
What am I going to do? I could run away; but where would I go? No, running away doesn't feel right. I guess I'll just have to go with the flow...WAIT! I could change it. Yes, change it. I don't fit in here and probably never will...if Aunt really is a witch, maybe I could learn witchcraft...and finally fit in.
She stood up, sniffed, and wipped her long hair over her sholder. A tiny ray of light shone benith the crack in the door and she thought, Today is a new day. A day for new thoughts and trials. A day for another chance.
She unlocked the door and confidendly walked downstairs.

On the way down stiars, Sara was bombarred with doubts. This is ridiculos. Everyone knows witches aren't real. I'll never fit in, I'll be a freak for the rest of my life...
She gave a small yelp. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realized where she had been walking. Now she was on a landing, the penultimate landing before she would reach the door to the kitchen. She had crashed into a giant potted plant. It wobbled, and she tried to steady it. Her hands waved all over the place, trying to steady the shaking plant, trying desparetly to grad a frond of the plant to keep in from rolling down the stairs.
Instead, Sara made it worse.
The plant fell, gaining a giant crack. Sara gasped. It rolled out of her reach, and toppled down the first flight of stairs. Oh, no!
Sara raced after it. When it fianlly got to the ground floor, it didn't roll right into the kitchen, but turned left, almost like it had a life of it's own, and down a long, dark corridor Sara had never seen before. She chased after it, trying not to stumble on the wrinkled rug benith her feet.
Finally the potted plant stopped at a door. No, the door. It was the only door in the entire hallway. Sara felt for a doornob, but could feel none. It's too dark. Lifting her arm to her face, she let her fingers explore the tiny bottons on her watch, until, finally, she fond the little botton that gave the watch a tiny bit of light. AS the watch lit up, she slowly moved it along the door, less than an inch away so she could see the door and find it's nob. The door was a bright sky-blue, and painted in the exact center was a lark, holding a book in it's claws.
Finally Sara found the doornob. She grasped it and turned, stepping inside the room.
It was empty.
Sara groaned. I thought I would finally find adventure, or something to help me fit in.
She let her gaze wander around the room, and soon discovered that it was not emtpy, after all.
A tiny box, about a foot wide, lay on the floor in the middle of the room. It was tied with a fancy, thin, red ribbon. Sara ciriously crept towards it. She tore off the ribbon and opened the box. A thin, straight stick lay on gray tissue paper. One end of the stick was thinner than the other end. It was also painted red. Sara took the stick out of the box, and as she did, shivered. It was as it the stick was...alive. An odd feeling overwhelmed her, and she ran out of the room. Not knowing how she got there, Sara finally arrived in the kitchen.
Her Aunt was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by cats. She was talking to the yellow tabby about the waether, but stopped abrubtly when Sara burst into the room, holding up the red stick.
"What IS this?" Sara demaned.

not even her parents had ever hugged her like this. they weren't really emotional people. Sarah couldn't remember once when she felt so important as now with her aunt's flabby arms wrapped around her as if she was actually cared for. her whole life had been one trial after another. she had almost died by drowning in a river during kindergarten, and ever since her skin had been super pale and all the kids had called her a ghost-freak. she had suffered through this and her parent's strange detachment from her and several car wrecks until she had come home one day to find the phone ringing and on the other end of the line a a social services operator informing her that her parents had died and that they would be sending someone to her house to pick her up so she could stay at an orphinage until her parent's business had been setteled and a proper guardian was found to take care of her.
now the twelve year old girl felt tears wetting her cheeks as she was hugged by her strange, fat Aunt Rita.

"thank you thank you." she sobbed

But suddenly Sara felt something strange, like a deep forboding sense deep in her gut that was telling her to run away from this aunt and never come back, no matter what it takes.

But how could that be true?

but deep down she knew that she wanted to run away because she was scared. when anything got to close to the wall she put up around herself she ran away from it, she hid from herself.
but she couldn't just run away from Rita,she had already been so nice and Sara kinda wanted to hang out more with the talking cats.

She sighed and pushed that sense out of her. "Well teach me the craft of our family"

"Of course dear, but first we have to get you settled in here, then we have to go downtown and get your school transfer papers all sorted out." Rita smiled. "I'm glad you're eager though. My brother,your father, refused to believe that what we can do is real until he started doing it himself."

"now raise your hands and shout abrashiem!" her aunt bellowed.

feeling a little silly Sara did what her aunt had told. when her aunt broke out into laughter Sara looked at her and asked "whats so funny?"

"that was a joke honey, I just wanted a laugh!"

((hey guppybear, maybe you want to try to move the story a little slower instead of just saying they did this, they did that.

just a friendly siggestion.

;]))

"Er...a joke. Right. A joke. Hahah. Er, funny." Sara said dryly. That wasn't very funny, at all. Again she had the strange urge to run away and never come back. Suddenly she thought of a problem in thier sceuglue. She asked, "Grandma, when we tranfered my school papers...um, it's not a magical school, is it?"
She felt a tiny tingle of worry, but then an even bigger surge of excitment. Oh, it would be wonderful if she went to a magical school (Instead of getting laughed at by Rita, she thought.)
Her Aunt looked at little sheepish and told her, "Well, actaully...yes. You see, I'm--not that good with magic, and the Academy sounded like a good idea. And when you are gone, I could get your room ready for you." She grinned and clasped her hands in her lap, like she was waiting to be praised.
"Ummm...." Sara mumbled, surpirised but a little worried: Her Aunt's voice sounded a little (alot) forced. Is she going to do more than just get my room? Sara wondered with worry.
"What academy?" Sara finally asked.
"Why, only the best Witchcraft school there is, dearie. Creeping Hand Academy."
Creeping Hand?! Just the name of the place made Sara feel like vomiting. So she did. Wiping her mouth, she glanced at the red stick in her hand, wich she still held since the hug.
She glanced at her Aunt, to find she looked extremily smug. The evil kind of smug. Sara narrowed he eyes.

((00000!!!!The plot thickens!!!!mawhahah!)))

((cool!))

later that night Sara collapsed on her bed, wondering what the academy was going to be like. good, bad, scay, deadly?

she sat up quickly, why had she thought deadly? strange thoughts, strange thoughts....

Sara nodded and slipped the wand into e pocket, thinking it was all a bit silly. It all seemed to much like harry potter

But then, the feeling of stupidness vanished, replaced by a very grim thought: This is NOT Harry Potter. Not dumb. It's real. Magic is real...! Wow, this is going to be huge.
Aunt Rita snapped her out of her thoughts by saying loudly, and a bit briskly: "Now, we'll just have to get your uniform.Come with me."
She dragged Sara up to the top floor. When they got there, they were both out of breath. Gasping, Rita pointed to a tiny closet in the wall. They went towards it. Swinging it open, Rita grabbed Sara's wand and muttered some odd words. A ricetly step-ladder appeared, and Rita climbed to the top, and snached several long parcels off the top shelf. They were very dusty, Sara noticed. "Here you go," Aunt Rita huffed, handing her the parcels. As soon as Rita touched the floor, the magical step-ladder vanished, and they stepped out of the closet and into the hall of the house. Rita glanced at her watch and told Sara, "We still have thirty minutes before we have to go. Plenty of time." She nodded at Sara to unwrapp the largest parcel. Excitedly, Sara tore at the paper, scattering it all over the floor-boards. Liftng the lid, she removed the final piece of thin paper--
"I went to Creeping Hand when I was your age, too," Rita inturruped, "Oh, I hope this fits. It's mine. Well, now it's yours, I guess."--and Sara set eyes upon the most puzzeling school uniform she had ever seen in her entire lifetime.
The pants were blood red, and were the flare kind. The material was slippery under her fingers; It must be silk or something, she thought. Along the hem tiny golden thread was swen. She thought with dread, These are going to look ridiculos on me. They're huge!
Sara folded the pants over her arm and lifted out the shirt. It, too, was red as blood. It had no sleeves, and no straps. Sara hoped it wouldn't fall off. It wasvery low. Aunt Rita nodded in encouagement, and turned her back, closeing her eyes. Sara stripped herself of her regular clothes and carefully slipped into the red-as-blood Creeping Hand uniform. It is silk, she discovered, marveling at the smooth cloth. She tugged the shirt over her head, and looked at herself in horror. The pants were at least five sizes to big for her, and the shirt....well. A large amount of bossom was showing, as well as a large part of her stomach. Aunt Rita turned around, clapped her hands. "Isn't the most wonderful thing you've ever seen--?" she began, but stopped when she saw the look on Sara's face.
"Sorry, dear," she explained. "You belly button has to be showing. In poitions class, every student has to wear a belt to hold all thier potions. The poitons will melt the uniform, and it only works against skin...I am sorry, child. Really I am."
Sara didn't belive her. Instead she glared. Her embarresment increased with Rita looked at her breast. "It must has shrunk all the times I'd washed it, or something," she said lamely. Sara didn't belive her that time, either. She held her old clothes close. "Well, um, here," said Rita, shoving the last parcel at Sara. Unwrapping it, Sara discovered something that was probably even more proof that Creeping Hand Academy was very dark. It was a sword. Her eyes swept over the gleaming metal. A disterbing thought entered her mind, I should just chop off Rita's head and shed these stupid clothes. Her eyes widened and she thouht, No! I'd never do that! What was I thinking?!
Sara stayed still as she let Aunt Rita strap the sword onto her waist. When she was finally done, Sara ran downstiars without another word to Rita to wait for the school bus to pick her up, and deliver her to Creeping Hand.

Sara waited for what seemed like years. the cold autumn wind bit through her thin clothing. She looked down and her dirty shoes, and was considering going inside to talk with the cats, when she heard a rumbling noise. Looking up, she thoguht with wonder, Wow.Wow. Wow! This is defitelt NOT your regular school transportion!
Before sat her a giant snapping turtle. It was as big as Rita's house. A man sat on the turtle's head, holding reins. He looked at her sword and red uniform and took it all in.
"Creeping Hand?" he asked in a plesent voice.
Sara nodded, to surprised to speak. She climbed onto the broad bakc of the ginat turtle. As it crawled along, Sara asked, "Who are you?"
"Call me Stan," the man said.
They travled for what seemed like years. They moved out of the city, into the counrty, and finally into a misty area; Sara could hardly see a foot in front of her. Suddenly, a gloomly building arose before her.
"Weclome," Stan said dramaticlly, "to Creeping Hand."

Sara peered at the strange building wondering what her new life inside would be like. And would it be a dangerous one?

they came closer to the building. Sarah looked around and noticed that there were other animals of various sizes and kinds that all seemed to be carrying red clothed students. when the giant turtle she was riding came to a stop infront of a huge building she got off it's shell.
Looking around her at the other students, she felt slightly better. everyone was wearing shirts that showed their stomachs (girls and boys both) and she also noticed that she wasn't the only girl who's shirt didn't cover her chest properly. "I wonder if that is just how the shirts are made?" she wondered. to top of the strange appearance of all the other students, the girls all had some kind of weapon, some of the boys did, but not many.

Then the teacher--Mrs. Ray--pointed at various bird bones, demaning the class identify them. Desipite her fast friendship with the girl Miranda, Sara didn't know any of the anwsers to Mrs. Ray's inquiries. A sly boy raised his hand and shouted profisanilly, "It is Earth salammdaAAr bones,"
He sat down again, swimming in the praise Mr.s Ray was giving him. He shot Sara daggers.

"Who is he? he seems to hate me. that boy has been glaring at me since class started." I whispered to Miranda.

"Give him a chance, ninny." Miranda returned in a low voice. "Your friendship with me was almost instant. That boy, Erik, is always full of himself."
"Miranda!" The teacher barked. She whirled around in her seat, and stuttered, "Um...what?"
"I said, can you identify this for the class?" She pointed a boney hand at a bone Sara didn't regonizine. Welcome to the magical world, Sara thought. Wow, this IS getting stranger by the minute.

Sara nodded. "Act confident? And the anwser magicallly appears in your head, huh?" she whispered, her voice dripping with sarcamis.

((WOW! I love how you wrote that! It wasn't too fast, either. No offense, but your last comments on "The Attic" were a little alot too short, and you want to make them sorta draaaaag, becuase then if you don't, readers will get bored. AND it wouldn't sound right. Dear Gubbybear, please continue making it looong (but not TOO long, please don't forget!), so then the entire story will have a nice flow. Thank you SO MUCH for using entire sentenses, pucutain, and grammar, and spelling. Also, lets both remember to have a REASON for that boy, Erik, and Miranda to act the way they do. Maybe Miranda is the sly one. Also, please don't change thier personalities with the blink of an eye. The charachters in Harry Potter, Warriors, or even Maxium Ride (boooo) don't shift. Remember that, too. Your friend, Janeen-san))

Staring at her wizardly homework (transfigeration), Sara beamed, and grinned. She commanded herself, act cofident. Act--
"OW!" She exclaimed, wincing at the sudden pain that had exploded inside her head. Rubbing her temple, she frowned and decided not to use the spell. She began to write out the tranfigeration answers the hard way, by hand. She got almost all of them wrong. Stupid cheating spell, she thought gloomily, then suddenly felt ashamed for using such language.

Rita called, "Dinner!" Sara slammed her books shut, got up from the chair, and raced downstairs.

((Question: How is looking confident going to answer all the questions for you? I know it's magic, but even magic needs to make sense.))

((I don't know. It was not me who made that up. Look at the top of this page. *sigh* I just went along with it, but I tried to stop it in message 52. I thought they would write something different, you know what I mean?))

((I noticed that. And I don't really like the act confident spell. acting confident is fine, but how is that going to give you the answers?))

((I have no idea. Ask the person how came up with it.))

((lets just continue the story. Hey Janeen -san, have you read the Run yet? Its kinda long, but deffinately worth it.))

((No,I haven't read the entire thing. I've read bits of it.))

((hi!))

Trooping downstairs, Sara explored a few corridors beofre she finally found what she thought was the dinning room. Pushing the door open a fraction, she peeked inside, amber eyes glowing. A strange sound met her ears before she even saw what the dinning room looked like.
It was drumbeats.
The drumbeats were slow, ten seconds pause before they continued again. She listened intently. Then, she heard an even more puzzeling sound: thunder.
Ok, that's it. What is going on here? She thought wildly. Pushing the door open another inch, she saw something dangerous and exciting, and laying eyes on it was instantly changing her already strange world.
A long dark marble passage with pillars on either side met her eyes. The passage, and the black carpet that followed it like a snake, continued until she could no longer see it. The entire rest of the ceiling and walls were covered in darkness. The drumbeats and thunder continued, and Sara noticed tiny candles along the egde of the carpet, buring feriously. That made the scence only more creepy. Then Sara almost screamed in shock.
Walking down the corridor, back to her, was her Aunt Rita. She was naked, except for a tall candle stuck to her shining head. She was chanting strange words Sara could not make out. Suddenly, the thunder got louder, and the drumbeats slowed down considerably, just like a dramatic scence in a dark movie...and Sara sneezed.
Rita whirled around, and Sara winced at the ungly transformation taking place: her face was no longer soft and kind, but boney and hard. Her nose was hooked like a beak; and she wasn't plump like she wsa that morning. Instead, she was extremily skinny and her fingernails were diry, long and crooked.
However, her voice was the same. Quiet and kind.
Her eyes were balls of fury and hatred.
I thought she loved me...is this really her? Sara had a disturbing thought of Aunt Rita bound and gagged; this imposter taking her place just to frighen her..but no. It was her.
She screamed in rage, shaking with uncontrolably fury:
"How dare you spy upon me when the Ceremony of Blister is taking place!" She lunged at Sara, and whilest flying threw the air towards her, she really did change.
Her neck grew long and her face turned into a snout, leathery wings sprouted from her back, and scales sprouted all over her body. She was a dragon.
Flying at Sara, she screeched in fury. Then Sara knew what that strange feeling had been, the odd feeling to flee: it was Sara feeling Rita's nateral instincts.
Mean and evil and hatred and death.
Sara ran.
Sara ran for her life.
Sara ran down the corridor.
Sara ran out of the house...and into a nightmare.

((I just wrong something really long at now it isn't appearing! Oh no!))

((wow janeen san. I thought she was nice, why would she pretend to be nice? it is good though.))