Anyone from my English class see this?
If you do, comment.
Just want to see who actually clicked on the link.
And to those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about...
Yeah, don't worry about it.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
The Most Beautiful One
Ellie always told me that she wanted “the most beautiful one.”
Whenever she said that, she would be pointing to the pictures of Prom in my yearbook. She’s always say she’s have to have the perfect, prettiest dress.
It’d have to be pink, frilly, and have tons of sparkles.
Little did she know she’s never wear a Prom dress.
*****
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was sit in her funeral.
But the hardest thing I’ve ever done was stand alone at her grave.
A solid, grey stone.
Cold.
Hard.
Like the rest of them.
I unzipped my backpack and turned it upside down. Shiny cloth, pink ribbons, and glitter glue tumbled out.
I took the cloth and wrapped it around the stone. I tried to avoid it, but occasionally my fingers would brush against the cold granite.
Then I realized that I had to do this. I had to touch Ellie’s gravestone. My eyes filled with tears at the thought. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.
Emotions swirled around me, overwhelming me as I sat in front of my sister’s grave. But then the thought returned.
I had to touch the stone.
My fingers seemed to feel the shock, and they froze. I urged myself to reach out, but my arm was petrified.
Again, tears welled up into my eyes. This time, I let them fall.
One fell onto my hand and slowly slipped between my fingers.
Suddenly, I jerked my hand forward and slammed it into the gravestone.
The tears burst out of control and freely slid down my cheeks. My hair fell over my shoulders as I faced the ground.
A passerby asked me something, but, lost in my thoughts, I shook my head. They went away.
Inside, I was glad, but somehow I wanted them to stay.
Now the only things that were still with me were my thoughts.
My sister, my own little sister…
Memories surged through my mind.
Ellie laughing, Ellie coloring, Ellie pointer at her favorite pictures of…
Stop. I had to stop thinking like that.
I took a deep breath and, after regaining myself, continued decorating her gravestone.
I made it pink, frilly, and sparkly.
Just like the wanted.
Yes, indeed, Ellie did have “the most beautiful one.”
Whenever she said that, she would be pointing to the pictures of Prom in my yearbook. She’s always say she’s have to have the perfect, prettiest dress.
It’d have to be pink, frilly, and have tons of sparkles.
Little did she know she’s never wear a Prom dress.
*****
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was sit in her funeral.
But the hardest thing I’ve ever done was stand alone at her grave.
A solid, grey stone.
Cold.
Hard.
Like the rest of them.
I unzipped my backpack and turned it upside down. Shiny cloth, pink ribbons, and glitter glue tumbled out.
I took the cloth and wrapped it around the stone. I tried to avoid it, but occasionally my fingers would brush against the cold granite.
Then I realized that I had to do this. I had to touch Ellie’s gravestone. My eyes filled with tears at the thought. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.
Emotions swirled around me, overwhelming me as I sat in front of my sister’s grave. But then the thought returned.
I had to touch the stone.
My fingers seemed to feel the shock, and they froze. I urged myself to reach out, but my arm was petrified.
Again, tears welled up into my eyes. This time, I let them fall.
One fell onto my hand and slowly slipped between my fingers.
Suddenly, I jerked my hand forward and slammed it into the gravestone.
The tears burst out of control and freely slid down my cheeks. My hair fell over my shoulders as I faced the ground.
A passerby asked me something, but, lost in my thoughts, I shook my head. They went away.
Inside, I was glad, but somehow I wanted them to stay.
Now the only things that were still with me were my thoughts.
My sister, my own little sister…
Memories surged through my mind.
Ellie laughing, Ellie coloring, Ellie pointer at her favorite pictures of…
Stop. I had to stop thinking like that.
I took a deep breath and, after regaining myself, continued decorating her gravestone.
I made it pink, frilly, and sparkly.
Just like the wanted.
Yes, indeed, Ellie did have “the most beautiful one.”
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Stats!
'Saving Professor' is currently thirty-seven pages long!
Which means that if it's a book it would be about 49 pages... only! Oh, writing is such a long process!
Well, I'm not planning to get this published, anyway, so it doesn't really even matter.
Which means that if it's a book it would be about 49 pages... only! Oh, writing is such a long process!
Well, I'm not planning to get this published, anyway, so it doesn't really even matter.
Saving Professor (Part 18)
Collier was two minutes late to Alexander’s house. Professor had dropped him off at the front door.
Collier walked through the familiar doors and into the blank room. He started down the staircase and entered the cluttered office.
Alexander was nowhere to be found.
I’ll just wait until he gets here, Collier thought. He sat in a swivel chair and spun around and around.
Then he had an idea. He eyed the chair that Alexander always sat in.
“This is my chair. My chair. Mine, not yours. That means that you can’t sit in it. Understand?” Alexander had once said. He had enforced that rule more than once.
Making sure no one was around, he crept up to the chair.
“Why am I tiptoeing?” he whispered. “Why am I even whispering? There’s no one even around.”
He stood above the blue leather office chair. Then, in one swift motion, he sat down. Air swished out of the seams under him.
“Ha. See that, Alexander? So much for your rules. If you ever find out what I’m doing—“
“I would kill you.”
Collier spun around. Alexander rose out of an empty tin trash can, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Collier, did I scare you?”
Collier didn’t answer.
“Yes, on a regular basis I would probably do something to you. But I plan to share something very important with you today. And, besides, if I did kill you, then there wouldn’t be anyone to carry on my plan, now would there?”
Collier shook his head, but he was thinking about Petra. She would be there. But Alexander wouldn’t know that.
“Anyway, we can’t waste any time. Let’s get on with my plan.” Alexander peered curiously at Collier.
“Haven’t said anything yet today, have you? Cat got your tongue?” Alexander laughed hysterically. Finally, when the humor apparently faded, he was left gasping for air. “Anyways—that was so funny, wasn’t it? Oh, but you wouldn’t know why. The reason why that was funny is because…”
Alexander ran across the room and hovered over a box. He turned around, put a hand up to signal Collier to wait, and then turned back around with his hands cupped.
He ran over to Collier, hands still cupped, with his grin larger than ever. Slowly, he uncapped his hands. In his hands lay a kitten. It had soft, white fur with a bushy tail. It stirred and twisted its head upside down against Alexander’s thumb. It lifted its eyelids and revealed the purest blue eyes.
“His name is Frisky,” Alexander whispered softly.
Frisky attempted to stand up, so Alexander gently lay him on the table. Frisky stood up, arched his back, and began to purr. He rubbed his head against a nearby chair in pure delight. Then he looked straight up at Collier and meowed a soft, high-pitched meow.
“He’s so cute!” Collier exclaimed.
Alexander smiled.
“You finally said something!”
Collier ignored him and scooped the kitten up.
“Why’s he so small?” he asked.
“He’s a kitten. Why else would he be so small?”
“Well, kittens aren’t usually this small.”
“Then he’s a baby kitten.”
Collier was about to point out that a ‘baby kitten’ didn’t make any sense, but he decided against it.
“Why’d you get him?” he asked, instead.
“I found him on the side of the road. He was a lot dirtier. I washed him up nice and clean.” Then he took Frisky back up and walked him over to the box. “You stay in there, little Frisky. I’ll get you back out later.” Then he turned back to Collier. “Time to get to work,” he announced.
“What was the important thing you had to tell me?” Collier asked.
Alexander’s face turned a lighter shade of red.
“Oh. That was the cat. There’s really nothing that much more important.” Then his face lit up again. “I did figure out more on the project, though!”
Collier nodded.
“Let’s see it, then!”
Alexander dug through a large stack of paper, and then pulled out blueprints, which he excitedly began showing to Collier.
He pointed to a basket of lemons scrawled on the graphed paper.
“See? Here are the balloons.”
He showed Collier a sketch of some sort of a stick with half a lemon at the end.
“This is the air pump.”
He traced an arrow that led to a drawing of a cup piled high with lemons.
“So I’ll put the balloons in here, and—“
Then Alexander seemed to notice his drawings for the first time. He lowered them and started scrutinizing them.
“Huh. This is the wrong paper. This is my diagram of how to make lemonade. Why didn’t you tell me, Collier?”
Collier was speechless.
What would I tell him? he thought. That he’s crazy?
But Alexander was already busy looking for the right diagram. Finally, he held it up and proudly handed it to Collier.
Apparently, Alexander was going to use a swimming pool cleaning machine to blow up the millions of balloons.
“It’s a reasonable choice,” Alexander was saying.
“But… how would that work? Do you even know what one of these machines does?”
“Well, I can at least find out, can’t I?” Alexander snapped back. Then he regained his calmness. “It will do as I say.”
“It’s a machine.”
“And I’m Alexander!”
Collier raised his eyebrows.
Alexander picked a piece of kitten fur off his vest.
“Alexander the Great, if you please,” he added. Then, still intrigued with the fur, he said, “Go home.”
“Go…”
“You heard me. Go home. You have a big day tomorrow.”
Knowing better than to argue or question, Collier made his way to the old-fashioned telephone in the corner of the room to call Alexander.
Collier walked through the familiar doors and into the blank room. He started down the staircase and entered the cluttered office.
Alexander was nowhere to be found.
I’ll just wait until he gets here, Collier thought. He sat in a swivel chair and spun around and around.
Then he had an idea. He eyed the chair that Alexander always sat in.
“This is my chair. My chair. Mine, not yours. That means that you can’t sit in it. Understand?” Alexander had once said. He had enforced that rule more than once.
Making sure no one was around, he crept up to the chair.
“Why am I tiptoeing?” he whispered. “Why am I even whispering? There’s no one even around.”
He stood above the blue leather office chair. Then, in one swift motion, he sat down. Air swished out of the seams under him.
“Ha. See that, Alexander? So much for your rules. If you ever find out what I’m doing—“
“I would kill you.”
Collier spun around. Alexander rose out of an empty tin trash can, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Collier, did I scare you?”
Collier didn’t answer.
“Yes, on a regular basis I would probably do something to you. But I plan to share something very important with you today. And, besides, if I did kill you, then there wouldn’t be anyone to carry on my plan, now would there?”
Collier shook his head, but he was thinking about Petra. She would be there. But Alexander wouldn’t know that.
“Anyway, we can’t waste any time. Let’s get on with my plan.” Alexander peered curiously at Collier.
“Haven’t said anything yet today, have you? Cat got your tongue?” Alexander laughed hysterically. Finally, when the humor apparently faded, he was left gasping for air. “Anyways—that was so funny, wasn’t it? Oh, but you wouldn’t know why. The reason why that was funny is because…”
Alexander ran across the room and hovered over a box. He turned around, put a hand up to signal Collier to wait, and then turned back around with his hands cupped.
He ran over to Collier, hands still cupped, with his grin larger than ever. Slowly, he uncapped his hands. In his hands lay a kitten. It had soft, white fur with a bushy tail. It stirred and twisted its head upside down against Alexander’s thumb. It lifted its eyelids and revealed the purest blue eyes.
“His name is Frisky,” Alexander whispered softly.
Frisky attempted to stand up, so Alexander gently lay him on the table. Frisky stood up, arched his back, and began to purr. He rubbed his head against a nearby chair in pure delight. Then he looked straight up at Collier and meowed a soft, high-pitched meow.
“He’s so cute!” Collier exclaimed.
Alexander smiled.
“You finally said something!”
Collier ignored him and scooped the kitten up.
“Why’s he so small?” he asked.
“He’s a kitten. Why else would he be so small?”
“Well, kittens aren’t usually this small.”
“Then he’s a baby kitten.”
Collier was about to point out that a ‘baby kitten’ didn’t make any sense, but he decided against it.
“Why’d you get him?” he asked, instead.
“I found him on the side of the road. He was a lot dirtier. I washed him up nice and clean.” Then he took Frisky back up and walked him over to the box. “You stay in there, little Frisky. I’ll get you back out later.” Then he turned back to Collier. “Time to get to work,” he announced.
“What was the important thing you had to tell me?” Collier asked.
Alexander’s face turned a lighter shade of red.
“Oh. That was the cat. There’s really nothing that much more important.” Then his face lit up again. “I did figure out more on the project, though!”
Collier nodded.
“Let’s see it, then!”
Alexander dug through a large stack of paper, and then pulled out blueprints, which he excitedly began showing to Collier.
He pointed to a basket of lemons scrawled on the graphed paper.
“See? Here are the balloons.”
He showed Collier a sketch of some sort of a stick with half a lemon at the end.
“This is the air pump.”
He traced an arrow that led to a drawing of a cup piled high with lemons.
“So I’ll put the balloons in here, and—“
Then Alexander seemed to notice his drawings for the first time. He lowered them and started scrutinizing them.
“Huh. This is the wrong paper. This is my diagram of how to make lemonade. Why didn’t you tell me, Collier?”
Collier was speechless.
What would I tell him? he thought. That he’s crazy?
But Alexander was already busy looking for the right diagram. Finally, he held it up and proudly handed it to Collier.
Apparently, Alexander was going to use a swimming pool cleaning machine to blow up the millions of balloons.
“It’s a reasonable choice,” Alexander was saying.
“But… how would that work? Do you even know what one of these machines does?”
“Well, I can at least find out, can’t I?” Alexander snapped back. Then he regained his calmness. “It will do as I say.”
“It’s a machine.”
“And I’m Alexander!”
Collier raised his eyebrows.
Alexander picked a piece of kitten fur off his vest.
“Alexander the Great, if you please,” he added. Then, still intrigued with the fur, he said, “Go home.”
“Go…”
“You heard me. Go home. You have a big day tomorrow.”
Knowing better than to argue or question, Collier made his way to the old-fashioned telephone in the corner of the room to call Alexander.
Saving Professor (Part 17)
Collier pushed the glass doors open and rushed into the building.
“Where is she?” he asked Professor, who was trying to catch up.
“She’s still in the doctor’s room. She fell asleep, and hasn’t woken up since.”
Collier started into the hall.
“She isn’t in a coma, is she?”
Professor ran a hand through his hair.
“No,” he finally responded. “I don’t think so.” Then, after a pause, he turned to a door and said, “It’s this room.”
Collier turned around and ran to the door. He knocked Professor’s hand off the knob and twisted it open.
The room was small, and looked just like a doctor’s office. There was a sink with a light teal cabinet. On the wall hung a photograph of a herd of elephants, and the air trailed a light scent of rubber gloves.
Almost immediately after he walked in, Collier stopped in front of the bed. It had a leather covering, the same shade of teal as the cabinet. Over the leather was a sheet of what looked like wax paper, something for the doctor to change every time a new patient came in.
On the bed was Petra, propped up on pillows. Her hand was up near her mouth, and she seemed to be sucking on her forefinger. On her forehead was a band-aid. Other than that, she looked perfectly fine, like she was just in a comfortable sleep.
Collier dropped down next to the bed, and whispered, “Petra.”
Professor rolled his eyes; Collier was taking this way too seriously.
Petra blinked and opened her eyes. Her eyes glanced across the ceiling, confused, before looking down and spotting Collier.
“Hey, Collier. How was Alexander?” she asked.
“How was Alexander? How are you?”
“I’m fine. My forehead doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.” She sat up even higher. “Did I sleep through the night or is it still today?”
“It’s still today,” Professor answered. “Speaking of today, it was Collier’s turn. Tomorrow’s supposed to be your turn. Can you go or do you think you need Collier to go for you?”
Petra looked over at Collier.
“I’ll go for her,” Collier offered.
“Are you sure?” Petra asked thankfully.
“Yeah. I’m sure. It’s fine, really.” Then, with a spreading grin, Collier joked, “But whenever you get better, you’re going twice in a row for me!”
“Sure,” Petra answered, shrugging. “That seems fair enough.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m hungry. Is it dinnertime?”
With that, Petra jumped off the doctor bed and walked out the door.
As the three sat down for dinner last night, Collier asked Petra what exactly had happened.
“Collier, I already told you what happened,” Professor scolded. “She probably doesn’t even know.”
Collier threw a hopeful glance at Petra.
“Well, actually,” Petra started slowly, “Professor’s right—I don’t even really know what happened.”
Then, after watching Collier’s face fall, she offered, “But I can tell you what I do remember!
“So I got done with my studies with Mr. Murphy—“
“How’d that go?”
“Um… good, I guess. But, anyways, I asked Mrs. Sheralton where Professor was, and she told me he was out back loading stuff away. Then she asked if I was a snack, so she got some lime sorbet—“
“We have lime sorbet?”
“Well… yeah… So anyways she got some for me and put it in a glass cup, and I went out the back door to find him. I watched him for awhile then he asked if I wanted to help, so I said yes. I finished my lime sorbet—“
“I can’t even believe you didn’t tell me we had that!”
“Okay, okay, well now you now! As I was saying, I helped load cardboard into the recycle bin, then when that was done, I was throwing away those long light bulbs when they hit the side and exploded everywhere. One piece landed on my forehead, so that’s how I got a cut.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s all. And I had a heat stroke, but I’m over that now.”
“I thought there was more.”
“No. Who told you that?”
Petra’s gaze slid over to Professor, who put his hands up and said, “Hey, I told you, Collier, I told you all that happened.”
Collier, looking disappointed, raised his eyebrows, nodded, and shoved another forkful of green bean casserole into his mouth.
The rest of the table conversation was just small talk. They didn’t mention the ‘accident’ anymore that night.
“Where is she?” he asked Professor, who was trying to catch up.
“She’s still in the doctor’s room. She fell asleep, and hasn’t woken up since.”
Collier started into the hall.
“She isn’t in a coma, is she?”
Professor ran a hand through his hair.
“No,” he finally responded. “I don’t think so.” Then, after a pause, he turned to a door and said, “It’s this room.”
Collier turned around and ran to the door. He knocked Professor’s hand off the knob and twisted it open.
The room was small, and looked just like a doctor’s office. There was a sink with a light teal cabinet. On the wall hung a photograph of a herd of elephants, and the air trailed a light scent of rubber gloves.
Almost immediately after he walked in, Collier stopped in front of the bed. It had a leather covering, the same shade of teal as the cabinet. Over the leather was a sheet of what looked like wax paper, something for the doctor to change every time a new patient came in.
On the bed was Petra, propped up on pillows. Her hand was up near her mouth, and she seemed to be sucking on her forefinger. On her forehead was a band-aid. Other than that, she looked perfectly fine, like she was just in a comfortable sleep.
Collier dropped down next to the bed, and whispered, “Petra.”
Professor rolled his eyes; Collier was taking this way too seriously.
Petra blinked and opened her eyes. Her eyes glanced across the ceiling, confused, before looking down and spotting Collier.
“Hey, Collier. How was Alexander?” she asked.
“How was Alexander? How are you?”
“I’m fine. My forehead doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.” She sat up even higher. “Did I sleep through the night or is it still today?”
“It’s still today,” Professor answered. “Speaking of today, it was Collier’s turn. Tomorrow’s supposed to be your turn. Can you go or do you think you need Collier to go for you?”
Petra looked over at Collier.
“I’ll go for her,” Collier offered.
“Are you sure?” Petra asked thankfully.
“Yeah. I’m sure. It’s fine, really.” Then, with a spreading grin, Collier joked, “But whenever you get better, you’re going twice in a row for me!”
“Sure,” Petra answered, shrugging. “That seems fair enough.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m hungry. Is it dinnertime?”
With that, Petra jumped off the doctor bed and walked out the door.
As the three sat down for dinner last night, Collier asked Petra what exactly had happened.
“Collier, I already told you what happened,” Professor scolded. “She probably doesn’t even know.”
Collier threw a hopeful glance at Petra.
“Well, actually,” Petra started slowly, “Professor’s right—I don’t even really know what happened.”
Then, after watching Collier’s face fall, she offered, “But I can tell you what I do remember!
“So I got done with my studies with Mr. Murphy—“
“How’d that go?”
“Um… good, I guess. But, anyways, I asked Mrs. Sheralton where Professor was, and she told me he was out back loading stuff away. Then she asked if I was a snack, so she got some lime sorbet—“
“We have lime sorbet?”
“Well… yeah… So anyways she got some for me and put it in a glass cup, and I went out the back door to find him. I watched him for awhile then he asked if I wanted to help, so I said yes. I finished my lime sorbet—“
“I can’t even believe you didn’t tell me we had that!”
“Okay, okay, well now you now! As I was saying, I helped load cardboard into the recycle bin, then when that was done, I was throwing away those long light bulbs when they hit the side and exploded everywhere. One piece landed on my forehead, so that’s how I got a cut.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s all. And I had a heat stroke, but I’m over that now.”
“I thought there was more.”
“No. Who told you that?”
Petra’s gaze slid over to Professor, who put his hands up and said, “Hey, I told you, Collier, I told you all that happened.”
Collier, looking disappointed, raised his eyebrows, nodded, and shoved another forkful of green bean casserole into his mouth.
The rest of the table conversation was just small talk. They didn’t mention the ‘accident’ anymore that night.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Saving Professor (Part 16)
After her lessons, Petra ran off to find Professor. She found Mrs. Sheralton at the front desk and asked where Professor was.
“He’s out back sorting junk,” she answered. “Do you need a snack? I have time on my hands, so I’d be more than happy to make something for you.”
“Oh—well, I’d love to, but I really would like to find him.”
“On a hurry?”
“Not really… You know what? Actually, a snack would be nice right now. What do we have?”
“Do you want something like crackers, or some fruit? What kind of a snack are you up to.”
“Is there any chance we have ice cream?” Petra asked, a childish grin spreading across her face.
Mrs. Sheralton rose up from her chair and began walking towards the kitchen.
“Well, Petra, how would you like some lime sorbet? I just got some yesterday. It’s Professor Stein’s favorite.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want it if it’s his.”
“The thing is, he’s on an allergy medicine where he can’t have anything cold.”
“I didn’t know that cold things could affect allergy medicine.”
“Neither did I.”
“So he can’t have ice drinks?”
“No, he can’t.”
Mrs. Sheralton and Petra reached the kitchen. Petra leaned on the polished granite countertop as she watched Mrs. Sheralton take out a tall glass and a long spoon. She counted each of the three scoops of soft green lime sorbet Mrs. Sheralton plopped down into the cup.
Then Mrs. Sheralton took a bottle of ginger ale out of the cupboard.
She noticed the inquisitive look on Petra’s face, so she stopped mid-pour.
“Would you like any ginger ale in your sorbet?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Sheralton, I’m good.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Sheralton sighed. “Professor Stein likes it that way.”
“Well, I’m really okay with this. Thank you, though!”
Petra took the glass off the counter and followed Mrs. Sheralton out the kitchen door. About halfway down the hall, Mrs. Sheralton pointed to a heavy door and said, “That’s where outside is. Professor Stein’s out there.”
Quickly thanking her, Petra opened the door and stepped out. The bright light of the sun surprised her. She squinted and could barely make out Professor lifting oversized pieces of cardboard into the recycling bin.
When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that Professor was walking over to her.
“Petra, are you finished with your studies already?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am. It’s already 3:54.”
Professor checked his watch.
“Yes, you’re right, it is.” He wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’ve been working out here way too long. I need to go inside sometime soon.”
Then he noticed Petra’s lime sorbet.
“That’s my favorite summer treat, you know,” he informed Petra.
“Yeah, I know. Mrs. Sheralton told me.”
“Oh, did she?”
Petra nodded.
“She’s been making snacks for me ever since I began working here. She was originally going to be a hotel restaurant chef, but she probably figured that she’s get a better pay working at the front desk here.”
Petra scooped out the last bit of sorbet. She was planning on getting more the next day. She wouldn’t tell Collier about it. He never enjoyed sweets, after all. But that wasn’t fair. She would tell him.
Only when she looked back up, she noticed that Professor had asked her a question.
“Oh… what? Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I asked if you’d like to help me with this loading.”
“Sure!”
Petra set her glass down on the steps and jumped down onto the asphalt.
“Put your arms out.”
Professor loaded cardboard onto her arms. She dumped it into the recycle bin.
That went on until the tall pile of cardboard had been successfully piled into the bin.
Petra wiped sweat off the back of her neck.
“Are you tired already?” Professor asked.
“No, not really,” Petra replied, holding her arms back out.
“Here’s something you’ll need to be more careful with. These are burnt out light bulbs, the kind that go in the tile ceiling. You’ll need to be very careful throwing them away, because—“
But Petra obviously hadn’t listened enough, because as soon as the lights struck the top of the trash can, they shattered and flew in all different directions.
Standing there, shocked, Petra could only stare ahead at the forest green paint peeling off of the garbage bin. Her heart pounded as she wondered what Professor may do.
She heard his voice behind her.
“Petra. Petra, it’s okay. You’re lucky we’re outside. This happens all the time. That’s why I was warning you—oh, no. Petra, there’s a cut on your forehead… Wait. Stay there. Don’t move.”
Petra stared, horrified, at the green paint. She stared harder and harder. Her vision swam, and a deep red mixed into the green—
She shut her eyes.
“Professor.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat. “Professor. I think there’s blood getting into my eye.”
“No, Petra, there’s not. You’re just imagining that. You were probably staring too hard at that green color. Now don’t move. I’m trying to get this glass out of your forehead.”
In the blackness, Petra stood still. She didn’t really know why, but she wasn’t ready to open her eyes up again.
I’ll just keep my eyes closed until I’m calm, she thought.
Suddenly, a sharp pain blasted through her head, starting from right above her left eyebrow.
“There, I got it out,” Professor mumbled from behind her. “Okay, Petra, I’m going to need you to open your eyes. Put your hand right here to block the blood from coming through.” He took Petra’s hand and placed her finger over the cut.
Petra slowly opened her eyes.
“Come back with me,” Professor commanded.
Petra trailed behind Professor. When the door opened, the swish of air conditioned air felt good, but turned cold as soon as it touched her sweat.
Black fuzziness crept in from the corners of her vision.
Professor stopped her in the hall.
“Stay here, Petra,” he commanded.
She sank to the ground, keeping her hand over her eyebrow.
Grey pinpricks began making their way into her vision.
Soon enough, an unfamiliar voice asked, “When did this happen? Just recently?”
Then Professor’s voice answered, “Yes, just about three minutes ago.”
A door closed, and then the unfamiliar voice spoke again.
“Petra, let’s go. Come on, get up.”
Petra felt strong arms lift her up and carry her. She would usually have been embarrassed to still have someone carry her, but she was so dizzy that she didn’t really mind it. She could hear whoever it was huffing and puffing as they reached their destination.
She felt herself being lowered onto a soft bed.
“Take your hand off the cut, Petra,” the voice ordered.
She slid her hand off her head.
“I’ve seen worse,” was the only comment Petra heard.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she could see the doctor. He was a middle-aged man with short brown hair, and he wasn’t exactly what you would call “in shape.”
He opened a cabinet and took out a piece of cotton and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He talked to Professor as he squirted alcohol onto the cotton ball.
“How’d she get the cut?”
“One of those long light bulbs exploded and hit her.”
The doctor nodded.
“That’s happened before.”
Then he turned around and began to rub the cotton ball onto Petra’s forehead. A sharp pain spread around the area, but she was too tired to react with much more than a jolt. Then the pain went away as the doctor rubbed on a yellowish ointment and placed a band-aid over it.
“You’re good to go, Petra. Come back to me tomorrow afternoon so I can change your bandage.”
Petra raised her head in an effort to nod, but her head fell back and the blackness returned.
“Is she okay?” she heard Professor ask.
“Well, how long was she out there?” A hint of worry showed through the doctor’s voice.
“About twenty minutes. It wasn’t that long, but it’s really hot outside today.”
“Did she have a drink before or during that time?”
“I really don’t know. She was eating a lime sorbet when she came out.”
There was a pause. Petra felt a shadow come over her, as if the doctor was leaning over to get a better look at her.
“I think she had a heat stroke,” he said. “You’d better get her some water.”
The door opened and closed. Petra kept her eyes closed as the doctor situated her back against pillows so that she was sitting up.
“Petra, you’ll have to open your eyes to drink water,” the doctor ordered in a low whisper. “Just for a second. You only need to get hydrated again.”
Then the door opened again and Professor walked in with a cup of water. Petra opened her eyes and took the cup. She lifted it to her lips. It was freezing cold. Because she was covered in tight blankets, the cool liquid was welcome. When she was done, she sucked on an ice cube.
After the ice cube melted, she closed her eyes again and fell asleep.
“He’s out back sorting junk,” she answered. “Do you need a snack? I have time on my hands, so I’d be more than happy to make something for you.”
“Oh—well, I’d love to, but I really would like to find him.”
“On a hurry?”
“Not really… You know what? Actually, a snack would be nice right now. What do we have?”
“Do you want something like crackers, or some fruit? What kind of a snack are you up to.”
“Is there any chance we have ice cream?” Petra asked, a childish grin spreading across her face.
Mrs. Sheralton rose up from her chair and began walking towards the kitchen.
“Well, Petra, how would you like some lime sorbet? I just got some yesterday. It’s Professor Stein’s favorite.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want it if it’s his.”
“The thing is, he’s on an allergy medicine where he can’t have anything cold.”
“I didn’t know that cold things could affect allergy medicine.”
“Neither did I.”
“So he can’t have ice drinks?”
“No, he can’t.”
Mrs. Sheralton and Petra reached the kitchen. Petra leaned on the polished granite countertop as she watched Mrs. Sheralton take out a tall glass and a long spoon. She counted each of the three scoops of soft green lime sorbet Mrs. Sheralton plopped down into the cup.
Then Mrs. Sheralton took a bottle of ginger ale out of the cupboard.
She noticed the inquisitive look on Petra’s face, so she stopped mid-pour.
“Would you like any ginger ale in your sorbet?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Sheralton, I’m good.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Sheralton sighed. “Professor Stein likes it that way.”
“Well, I’m really okay with this. Thank you, though!”
Petra took the glass off the counter and followed Mrs. Sheralton out the kitchen door. About halfway down the hall, Mrs. Sheralton pointed to a heavy door and said, “That’s where outside is. Professor Stein’s out there.”
Quickly thanking her, Petra opened the door and stepped out. The bright light of the sun surprised her. She squinted and could barely make out Professor lifting oversized pieces of cardboard into the recycling bin.
When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that Professor was walking over to her.
“Petra, are you finished with your studies already?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am. It’s already 3:54.”
Professor checked his watch.
“Yes, you’re right, it is.” He wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’ve been working out here way too long. I need to go inside sometime soon.”
Then he noticed Petra’s lime sorbet.
“That’s my favorite summer treat, you know,” he informed Petra.
“Yeah, I know. Mrs. Sheralton told me.”
“Oh, did she?”
Petra nodded.
“She’s been making snacks for me ever since I began working here. She was originally going to be a hotel restaurant chef, but she probably figured that she’s get a better pay working at the front desk here.”
Petra scooped out the last bit of sorbet. She was planning on getting more the next day. She wouldn’t tell Collier about it. He never enjoyed sweets, after all. But that wasn’t fair. She would tell him.
Only when she looked back up, she noticed that Professor had asked her a question.
“Oh… what? Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I asked if you’d like to help me with this loading.”
“Sure!”
Petra set her glass down on the steps and jumped down onto the asphalt.
“Put your arms out.”
Professor loaded cardboard onto her arms. She dumped it into the recycle bin.
That went on until the tall pile of cardboard had been successfully piled into the bin.
Petra wiped sweat off the back of her neck.
“Are you tired already?” Professor asked.
“No, not really,” Petra replied, holding her arms back out.
“Here’s something you’ll need to be more careful with. These are burnt out light bulbs, the kind that go in the tile ceiling. You’ll need to be very careful throwing them away, because—“
But Petra obviously hadn’t listened enough, because as soon as the lights struck the top of the trash can, they shattered and flew in all different directions.
Standing there, shocked, Petra could only stare ahead at the forest green paint peeling off of the garbage bin. Her heart pounded as she wondered what Professor may do.
She heard his voice behind her.
“Petra. Petra, it’s okay. You’re lucky we’re outside. This happens all the time. That’s why I was warning you—oh, no. Petra, there’s a cut on your forehead… Wait. Stay there. Don’t move.”
Petra stared, horrified, at the green paint. She stared harder and harder. Her vision swam, and a deep red mixed into the green—
She shut her eyes.
“Professor.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat. “Professor. I think there’s blood getting into my eye.”
“No, Petra, there’s not. You’re just imagining that. You were probably staring too hard at that green color. Now don’t move. I’m trying to get this glass out of your forehead.”
In the blackness, Petra stood still. She didn’t really know why, but she wasn’t ready to open her eyes up again.
I’ll just keep my eyes closed until I’m calm, she thought.
Suddenly, a sharp pain blasted through her head, starting from right above her left eyebrow.
“There, I got it out,” Professor mumbled from behind her. “Okay, Petra, I’m going to need you to open your eyes. Put your hand right here to block the blood from coming through.” He took Petra’s hand and placed her finger over the cut.
Petra slowly opened her eyes.
“Come back with me,” Professor commanded.
Petra trailed behind Professor. When the door opened, the swish of air conditioned air felt good, but turned cold as soon as it touched her sweat.
Black fuzziness crept in from the corners of her vision.
Professor stopped her in the hall.
“Stay here, Petra,” he commanded.
She sank to the ground, keeping her hand over her eyebrow.
Grey pinpricks began making their way into her vision.
Soon enough, an unfamiliar voice asked, “When did this happen? Just recently?”
Then Professor’s voice answered, “Yes, just about three minutes ago.”
A door closed, and then the unfamiliar voice spoke again.
“Petra, let’s go. Come on, get up.”
Petra felt strong arms lift her up and carry her. She would usually have been embarrassed to still have someone carry her, but she was so dizzy that she didn’t really mind it. She could hear whoever it was huffing and puffing as they reached their destination.
She felt herself being lowered onto a soft bed.
“Take your hand off the cut, Petra,” the voice ordered.
She slid her hand off her head.
“I’ve seen worse,” was the only comment Petra heard.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she could see the doctor. He was a middle-aged man with short brown hair, and he wasn’t exactly what you would call “in shape.”
He opened a cabinet and took out a piece of cotton and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He talked to Professor as he squirted alcohol onto the cotton ball.
“How’d she get the cut?”
“One of those long light bulbs exploded and hit her.”
The doctor nodded.
“That’s happened before.”
Then he turned around and began to rub the cotton ball onto Petra’s forehead. A sharp pain spread around the area, but she was too tired to react with much more than a jolt. Then the pain went away as the doctor rubbed on a yellowish ointment and placed a band-aid over it.
“You’re good to go, Petra. Come back to me tomorrow afternoon so I can change your bandage.”
Petra raised her head in an effort to nod, but her head fell back and the blackness returned.
“Is she okay?” she heard Professor ask.
“Well, how long was she out there?” A hint of worry showed through the doctor’s voice.
“About twenty minutes. It wasn’t that long, but it’s really hot outside today.”
“Did she have a drink before or during that time?”
“I really don’t know. She was eating a lime sorbet when she came out.”
There was a pause. Petra felt a shadow come over her, as if the doctor was leaning over to get a better look at her.
“I think she had a heat stroke,” he said. “You’d better get her some water.”
The door opened and closed. Petra kept her eyes closed as the doctor situated her back against pillows so that she was sitting up.
“Petra, you’ll have to open your eyes to drink water,” the doctor ordered in a low whisper. “Just for a second. You only need to get hydrated again.”
Then the door opened again and Professor walked in with a cup of water. Petra opened her eyes and took the cup. She lifted it to her lips. It was freezing cold. Because she was covered in tight blankets, the cool liquid was welcome. When she was done, she sucked on an ice cube.
After the ice cube melted, she closed her eyes again and fell asleep.
Saving Professor (Part 15)
Petra came back that night tired and annoyed.
“That Alexander guy is so weird!” she exclaimed, slumping into the couch. “So weird!”
“Yeah,” Collier replied. “Just have to get used to it.”
“What do you know? You’ve only been there one time.”
“Well, I had to get used to it. You know, Petra, we’re going to have to act the same. We’re pretty close already, but we’ll have to be like the same person.”
“Do you seriously think that Alexander guy’s going to notice?”
Professor walked into the room.
“Petra, you need to stop referring to him as ‘that Alexander guy.’ He was a very highly acclaimed student back at the boarding school, and you should respect him.” Professor glanced at Collier over his glasses. “You, too, Collier. You both have to respect him.”
Petra looked at Collier and sighed. Her mind was still stuck on having to act the same way as him.
“Well, anyways, it’s time for dinner,” Professor announced, before walking out of the room.
“Do I have to go? I’m really tired,” Petra whined to Collier.
“Petra. You know that dinnertime is the only time we have together.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like Professor’s our dad. He’s acting like he is.”
“Well, technically, he’s our guardian. For now. He got the papers signed today.”
Petra sat upright.
“What? So now he’s our dad?”
“No, I said he’s our guardian. He didn’t adopt us!”
“Why don’t I ever know any of this stuff?”
Collier shrugged.
“I didn’t know, either, until today. Hey, you know what’s weird?”
“Alexander?”
“Petra! No! Well… yes, Alexander is weird, but that’s not what I was going to say.”
“Okay, then what?”
“Professor has kids.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Kids.”
“How would you know?”
“I saw one today. He came to the office.”
“Again, another thing I don’t know!”
“Calm down, I only found out today, too!”
“Big day for us, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Hey, Petra, let’s go get some dinner. I bet Professor’s waiting.”
“Even you’re talking about him like he’s our dad,” Petra grumbled. Even so, she followed him out.
Early the next morning, Petra woke up long after Collier had left. In fact, she had woken up so late that she found Mr. Murphy standing at the door.
Jumping out of bed, she quickly began to apologize.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Murphy, I was staying up late reading last night, and I lost track of time and I fell asleep way too late, and I didn’t notice Collier leave this morning and—“
“It’s fine, Petra, really. I got here early. We actually start in fifteen minutes.” Then, with a hopeful look, he suggested, “Or we could start now.”
Petra could see his excitement, so she shrugged.
“Sure. Will do.”
“Which subject first? History?”
“Whatever you like.”
“You know, it really doesn’t matter. What do you want to do first?”
“I don’t know, but you seem to want to do History—“
“Oh, no, no, no, it’s okay if you want to do something else!”
“No! Seriously, Mr. Murphy, we can start with History.”
Mr. Murphy grinned.
“Okay!”
Petra pulled out her history book and flipped to the page where they left off. She took her white satin ribbon bookmark out of the book and began to stroke it.
As Mr. Murphy went off in a detailed description about the Battle of Bunker Hill, Petra compared him with Asher Alexander.
They were both kind of strange, but they looked nothing alike. They both had an extreme passion for what they did, but they showed it in different ways.
There were a lot of things in common about Alexander and Mr. Murphy, but for some reason, Petra just liked Mr. Murphy a lot better.
“That Alexander guy is so weird!” she exclaimed, slumping into the couch. “So weird!”
“Yeah,” Collier replied. “Just have to get used to it.”
“What do you know? You’ve only been there one time.”
“Well, I had to get used to it. You know, Petra, we’re going to have to act the same. We’re pretty close already, but we’ll have to be like the same person.”
“Do you seriously think that Alexander guy’s going to notice?”
Professor walked into the room.
“Petra, you need to stop referring to him as ‘that Alexander guy.’ He was a very highly acclaimed student back at the boarding school, and you should respect him.” Professor glanced at Collier over his glasses. “You, too, Collier. You both have to respect him.”
Petra looked at Collier and sighed. Her mind was still stuck on having to act the same way as him.
“Well, anyways, it’s time for dinner,” Professor announced, before walking out of the room.
“Do I have to go? I’m really tired,” Petra whined to Collier.
“Petra. You know that dinnertime is the only time we have together.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like Professor’s our dad. He’s acting like he is.”
“Well, technically, he’s our guardian. For now. He got the papers signed today.”
Petra sat upright.
“What? So now he’s our dad?”
“No, I said he’s our guardian. He didn’t adopt us!”
“Why don’t I ever know any of this stuff?”
Collier shrugged.
“I didn’t know, either, until today. Hey, you know what’s weird?”
“Alexander?”
“Petra! No! Well… yes, Alexander is weird, but that’s not what I was going to say.”
“Okay, then what?”
“Professor has kids.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Kids.”
“How would you know?”
“I saw one today. He came to the office.”
“Again, another thing I don’t know!”
“Calm down, I only found out today, too!”
“Big day for us, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Hey, Petra, let’s go get some dinner. I bet Professor’s waiting.”
“Even you’re talking about him like he’s our dad,” Petra grumbled. Even so, she followed him out.
Early the next morning, Petra woke up long after Collier had left. In fact, she had woken up so late that she found Mr. Murphy standing at the door.
Jumping out of bed, she quickly began to apologize.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Murphy, I was staying up late reading last night, and I lost track of time and I fell asleep way too late, and I didn’t notice Collier leave this morning and—“
“It’s fine, Petra, really. I got here early. We actually start in fifteen minutes.” Then, with a hopeful look, he suggested, “Or we could start now.”
Petra could see his excitement, so she shrugged.
“Sure. Will do.”
“Which subject first? History?”
“Whatever you like.”
“You know, it really doesn’t matter. What do you want to do first?”
“I don’t know, but you seem to want to do History—“
“Oh, no, no, no, it’s okay if you want to do something else!”
“No! Seriously, Mr. Murphy, we can start with History.”
Mr. Murphy grinned.
“Okay!”
Petra pulled out her history book and flipped to the page where they left off. She took her white satin ribbon bookmark out of the book and began to stroke it.
As Mr. Murphy went off in a detailed description about the Battle of Bunker Hill, Petra compared him with Asher Alexander.
They were both kind of strange, but they looked nothing alike. They both had an extreme passion for what they did, but they showed it in different ways.
There were a lot of things in common about Alexander and Mr. Murphy, but for some reason, Petra just liked Mr. Murphy a lot better.
New Story Idea
I'm really sorry I haven't posted in a really long time... I haven't had the time to type up more of Saving Professor. I think I know what's going to happen next... I'll try to get that up tonight.
Anyway, I have an idea for a new story.
It'll be called either 'Rescuing Mr. Conrad' or 'Mr. Conrad is Back!' The first one sounds too much like 'Saving Professor,' but I probably will rename 'Saving Professor' sometime else when I finish the story and know what it'll be all about.
Anyway, 'Mr. Conrad is Back!' (I'll just call it that for now) will be about an Algebra II teacher at Rocky Coast High. He is a very eccentric teacher who dresses in wacky clothes every day. His classroom is nowhere near ordinary. Even so, he is a very good teacher. One day, he sang and danced randomly in class, and a student suggested jokingly that he should go on 'iHave Talent', a TV program showcasing talents. Mr. Conrad takes this offer very seriously and auditions for the show on live TV with a whimsical, disastrous dance in which he accidentally pulled down the thousand-dollar curtain and caused the lights to crash onto the stage. Back at the school, Mr. Conrad is called into a meeting with the entire school board, where they discuss his television antics. They tell him that it was a close call, but he would be able to still keep his job, only as long as he promises not to do it again. A couple of days later, Mr. Conrad is informed that his performance was the highest rated, bringing the most laughs out of the audience. He is asked if he wants to continue on the show. Mr. Conrad knows that he promised not to, but he decides to risk losing his job and go disguised as an Italian comedian with a thick accent. He makes it to the second round, but not without being unnoticed againt by the school board. Once he gets back to school, he finds that his job has been given to someone else and he is fired. This news upsets many students who loved him and described him as their favorite teacher. Allison McLeery and Jessica Keist team up with the new kid, Trevor "Blue" Calypso, to get Mr. Conrad back to Rocky Coast High.
Anyway, I have an idea for a new story.
It'll be called either 'Rescuing Mr. Conrad' or 'Mr. Conrad is Back!' The first one sounds too much like 'Saving Professor,' but I probably will rename 'Saving Professor' sometime else when I finish the story and know what it'll be all about.
Anyway, 'Mr. Conrad is Back!' (I'll just call it that for now) will be about an Algebra II teacher at Rocky Coast High. He is a very eccentric teacher who dresses in wacky clothes every day. His classroom is nowhere near ordinary. Even so, he is a very good teacher. One day, he sang and danced randomly in class, and a student suggested jokingly that he should go on 'iHave Talent', a TV program showcasing talents. Mr. Conrad takes this offer very seriously and auditions for the show on live TV with a whimsical, disastrous dance in which he accidentally pulled down the thousand-dollar curtain and caused the lights to crash onto the stage. Back at the school, Mr. Conrad is called into a meeting with the entire school board, where they discuss his television antics. They tell him that it was a close call, but he would be able to still keep his job, only as long as he promises not to do it again. A couple of days later, Mr. Conrad is informed that his performance was the highest rated, bringing the most laughs out of the audience. He is asked if he wants to continue on the show. Mr. Conrad knows that he promised not to, but he decides to risk losing his job and go disguised as an Italian comedian with a thick accent. He makes it to the second round, but not without being unnoticed againt by the school board. Once he gets back to school, he finds that his job has been given to someone else and he is fired. This news upsets many students who loved him and described him as their favorite teacher. Allison McLeery and Jessica Keist team up with the new kid, Trevor "Blue" Calypso, to get Mr. Conrad back to Rocky Coast High.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
New Script Idea
I have a new idea for a script.
There's a little boy and girl, brother/sisters, who, when they were young, were taken away from their teen parents. They were put into their grandparent's care, but after six months were put back with their parents.
About twelve years pass, and they have no memory of this.
On a visit to their grandparent's house, their grandparents feel that it is time to tell them the truth. They show the kids videos of themselves from twelve years ago, and they get angry at their grandparents, blaming them for leaving them in such a horrible household.
After listening patiently to their grandkids yell, the grandparents finally tell them that it's not the way it happened... and tell the kids the real truth.
Right then, in that moment of silence, the parents call and tell them that they won't be coming to pick up the kids.
I don't really know how the end will work out... I don't really know how any of this story is going to work out. It'll just be a dramatic one-act play. I think great ideas will come to me...
There's a little boy and girl, brother/sisters, who, when they were young, were taken away from their teen parents. They were put into their grandparent's care, but after six months were put back with their parents.
About twelve years pass, and they have no memory of this.
On a visit to their grandparent's house, their grandparents feel that it is time to tell them the truth. They show the kids videos of themselves from twelve years ago, and they get angry at their grandparents, blaming them for leaving them in such a horrible household.
After listening patiently to their grandkids yell, the grandparents finally tell them that it's not the way it happened... and tell the kids the real truth.
Right then, in that moment of silence, the parents call and tell them that they won't be coming to pick up the kids.
I don't really know how the end will work out... I don't really know how any of this story is going to work out. It'll just be a dramatic one-act play. I think great ideas will come to me...
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Saving Professor (Part 14)
Petra woke up early in the morning. She rolled over to look at the clock.
4:26 am.
She sighed and stared into the blackness.
She hadn’t been able to sleep; the thought of visiting Asher Alexander for the first time was nagging on her mind.
It was like the night before her first day at school.
In her picture albums at home she had found a picture of her standing in her boarding school uniform, with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes smudged with red.
She had only been going to kindergarten then.
That was different than what she was going to face now.
Petra turned over and stared up at the ceiling.
If she could go back to herself right before she started kindergarten, she would have told herself that there wasn’t anything to worry about, that she would love boarding school more than anything.
Then, a thought came to Petra. It was like her own voice from the future.
“Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to worry about.”
This thought assured Petra. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
“Petra! You’re still asleep? I’ve already told you to get up three times! Now you only have ten minutes to get ready!” Professor stood in the doorway, already dressed and ready to go.
Petra sprung out of bed and immediately stumbled over Collier.
Collier moaned and grumbled as Petra regained balance and skittered out the room. She closed herself in the bathroom and brushed her teeth and washed her face in record time.
She threw on a blue polo khaki shorts, then flew back out the door and found Professor waiting.
“Let’s go,” he said. They rushed outside and jumped into the truck.
As he drove, Professor asked Petra, “Are you ready?”
Petra licked her lips. Was she? She shrugged.
“It’s fine. You’ll do great. Did you say bye to Collier?”
“Oh… no. I stumbled over him, though. But that’s not quite the same.”
“No, it’s not.”
The rest of the ride was in silence.
When they finally reached the office, Petra trailed behind Professor.
He threw open the front door, and she slid in behind him just as the door was beginning to swing shut. She gazed around the bland room. There was nothing in it at all. Gray concrete stared up at her from below her feet. The walls were an old cream hue, and a hint of a sawdust scent trailed around the room.
“Ah. Professor Stein. Collier. Welcome.”
Petra snapped around just in time to see a man coming out of a hole in the ground. His frazzled hair was a tone lighter than his sun-tanned skin. He was an unusual sight. Nevertheless, he was the average man.
When he reached the top run of the ladder he had been climbing up, he grunted and heaved himself up all the way. Then he walked straight towards Petra. She took a step back.
“Collier. You’re back. Ready for more work? You do remember what I taught you yesterday, don’t you?”
Petra nodded. She was safe—Collier had told her everything Alexander had said.
Alexander motioned with his hand for Petra to follow him. He brushed past Professor, without even giving him a second glance.
Before she started descending on the ladder, she took a look back at Professor and gave him a tight smile and a tiny wave.
Then she disappeared into the ground after Alexander.
4:26 am.
She sighed and stared into the blackness.
She hadn’t been able to sleep; the thought of visiting Asher Alexander for the first time was nagging on her mind.
It was like the night before her first day at school.
In her picture albums at home she had found a picture of her standing in her boarding school uniform, with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes smudged with red.
She had only been going to kindergarten then.
That was different than what she was going to face now.
Petra turned over and stared up at the ceiling.
If she could go back to herself right before she started kindergarten, she would have told herself that there wasn’t anything to worry about, that she would love boarding school more than anything.
Then, a thought came to Petra. It was like her own voice from the future.
“Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to worry about.”
This thought assured Petra. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
“Petra! You’re still asleep? I’ve already told you to get up three times! Now you only have ten minutes to get ready!” Professor stood in the doorway, already dressed and ready to go.
Petra sprung out of bed and immediately stumbled over Collier.
Collier moaned and grumbled as Petra regained balance and skittered out the room. She closed herself in the bathroom and brushed her teeth and washed her face in record time.
She threw on a blue polo khaki shorts, then flew back out the door and found Professor waiting.
“Let’s go,” he said. They rushed outside and jumped into the truck.
As he drove, Professor asked Petra, “Are you ready?”
Petra licked her lips. Was she? She shrugged.
“It’s fine. You’ll do great. Did you say bye to Collier?”
“Oh… no. I stumbled over him, though. But that’s not quite the same.”
“No, it’s not.”
The rest of the ride was in silence.
When they finally reached the office, Petra trailed behind Professor.
He threw open the front door, and she slid in behind him just as the door was beginning to swing shut. She gazed around the bland room. There was nothing in it at all. Gray concrete stared up at her from below her feet. The walls were an old cream hue, and a hint of a sawdust scent trailed around the room.
“Ah. Professor Stein. Collier. Welcome.”
Petra snapped around just in time to see a man coming out of a hole in the ground. His frazzled hair was a tone lighter than his sun-tanned skin. He was an unusual sight. Nevertheless, he was the average man.
When he reached the top run of the ladder he had been climbing up, he grunted and heaved himself up all the way. Then he walked straight towards Petra. She took a step back.
“Collier. You’re back. Ready for more work? You do remember what I taught you yesterday, don’t you?”
Petra nodded. She was safe—Collier had told her everything Alexander had said.
Alexander motioned with his hand for Petra to follow him. He brushed past Professor, without even giving him a second glance.
Before she started descending on the ladder, she took a look back at Professor and gave him a tight smile and a tiny wave.
Then she disappeared into the ground after Alexander.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Saving Professor (Part 13)
“Hey, hey, Petra.”
Petra spun around at the sound of her brother’s voice.
“Oh. Hey, Collier. How was Asher Alexander?”
“He was okay. He’s kinda…”
“What?”
“He’s sort of… weird.”
“Like how?”
“I don’t know, really. He’s overly dramatic and thinks too highly of himself.”
“Fun stuff.”
“You know, you’re going to go there tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Collier sat on the couch. Petra sat beside him.
“How was Mr. Murphy?” Collier asked.
“He was awesome. We got through a lot today! I can’t believe how much I learned! And it only took a few hours.”
“Lucky. Alexander took forever. Oh, yeah, another thing—call him Alexander, not Asher or not Mr. Alexander. He went into great detail telling me why.”
“Why shouldn’t I call him Asher or Mr. Alexander?”
“Don’t even get me started. Well, now that I think about it, I can’t really remember it, anyway.”
“What else should I know?”
Collier told Petra everything that he had learned that day. Then Petra told him about her adventure in Professor’s office.
As soon as Petra had finished telling the story, Professor walked in.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor,” Petra apologized. “Were you waiting outside?”
“It’s fine, it wasn’t that big a deal. I decided that you two needed time with each other. It’s been a long day.”
“Is there anything you need to tell us?”
“Nothing much. Dinner’s ready.”
Collier and Petra followed Professor down the hall and into a meeting room on the right. It had been set up like it was a dinner room. There was a platter or roast beef and potatoes in the middle of a table, and three plates set up.
As they sat down, Petra asked, “Professor, why don’t people come through this hall anymore?”
“I haven’t told you yet?”
The twins shook their heads.
“This is now off limits to the regular staff. All the rooms are now reserved for you two. Someone’s setting up a study where you will meet with Mr. Murphy. You also have the bathroom across the hall. We have this room for eating in. The next room over is a pantry with a refrigerator. You can have anything in there, as long as you don’t eat too much.”
Petra knew what was in the freezer. She had gone snooping in there before.
“So even the ice cream?” she asked, trying to be casual. She didn’t want him to know that she’s already been there.
“Yes, the ice cream,” Professor answered, his eyes halfway between narrowing and smiling. “But the ice cream you can only have every other day.”
“Then what are we supposed to have the other days?” Collier asked after quickly swallowing a mouthful of potatoes. “Kids run on dessert, you know.”
Professor laughed.
“Yes, I know, I know. That is why we have the fruits.”
“Come on. Fruits?”
“Fruits are a surprisingly satisfying dessert. Especially with whipped cream.”
“Hey, well, you never said anything about whipped cream before! That’s awesome!”
“Now just because I am giving you permission to eat what you like doesn’t mean that you can eat anything. Your dinner will be what Mrs. Sheralton makes and your breakfast needs to be breakfast food. And before you ask, Collier, no, whipped cream is not included.”
“What if I want eggs? Can I have that?” Petra asked. “Who would make them for me?”
“Mrs. Sheralton is a great chef. She’s the lady at the front desk. You may ask her to make breakfast for you ask long as she is not on the phone. You should learn how to cook your own food, anyway. She should be able to teach you how.”
Petra smiled. She already knew how to. She had tried out the stove while snooping around. She had successfully created an omelet. Well, her attempt was at least almost successful, with the exception of a burned pan and a spatula that was now half melted.
Petra spun around at the sound of her brother’s voice.
“Oh. Hey, Collier. How was Asher Alexander?”
“He was okay. He’s kinda…”
“What?”
“He’s sort of… weird.”
“Like how?”
“I don’t know, really. He’s overly dramatic and thinks too highly of himself.”
“Fun stuff.”
“You know, you’re going to go there tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Collier sat on the couch. Petra sat beside him.
“How was Mr. Murphy?” Collier asked.
“He was awesome. We got through a lot today! I can’t believe how much I learned! And it only took a few hours.”
“Lucky. Alexander took forever. Oh, yeah, another thing—call him Alexander, not Asher or not Mr. Alexander. He went into great detail telling me why.”
“Why shouldn’t I call him Asher or Mr. Alexander?”
“Don’t even get me started. Well, now that I think about it, I can’t really remember it, anyway.”
“What else should I know?”
Collier told Petra everything that he had learned that day. Then Petra told him about her adventure in Professor’s office.
As soon as Petra had finished telling the story, Professor walked in.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor,” Petra apologized. “Were you waiting outside?”
“It’s fine, it wasn’t that big a deal. I decided that you two needed time with each other. It’s been a long day.”
“Is there anything you need to tell us?”
“Nothing much. Dinner’s ready.”
Collier and Petra followed Professor down the hall and into a meeting room on the right. It had been set up like it was a dinner room. There was a platter or roast beef and potatoes in the middle of a table, and three plates set up.
As they sat down, Petra asked, “Professor, why don’t people come through this hall anymore?”
“I haven’t told you yet?”
The twins shook their heads.
“This is now off limits to the regular staff. All the rooms are now reserved for you two. Someone’s setting up a study where you will meet with Mr. Murphy. You also have the bathroom across the hall. We have this room for eating in. The next room over is a pantry with a refrigerator. You can have anything in there, as long as you don’t eat too much.”
Petra knew what was in the freezer. She had gone snooping in there before.
“So even the ice cream?” she asked, trying to be casual. She didn’t want him to know that she’s already been there.
“Yes, the ice cream,” Professor answered, his eyes halfway between narrowing and smiling. “But the ice cream you can only have every other day.”
“Then what are we supposed to have the other days?” Collier asked after quickly swallowing a mouthful of potatoes. “Kids run on dessert, you know.”
Professor laughed.
“Yes, I know, I know. That is why we have the fruits.”
“Come on. Fruits?”
“Fruits are a surprisingly satisfying dessert. Especially with whipped cream.”
“Hey, well, you never said anything about whipped cream before! That’s awesome!”
“Now just because I am giving you permission to eat what you like doesn’t mean that you can eat anything. Your dinner will be what Mrs. Sheralton makes and your breakfast needs to be breakfast food. And before you ask, Collier, no, whipped cream is not included.”
“What if I want eggs? Can I have that?” Petra asked. “Who would make them for me?”
“Mrs. Sheralton is a great chef. She’s the lady at the front desk. You may ask her to make breakfast for you ask long as she is not on the phone. You should learn how to cook your own food, anyway. She should be able to teach you how.”
Petra smiled. She already knew how to. She had tried out the stove while snooping around. She had successfully created an omelet. Well, her attempt was at least almost successful, with the exception of a burned pan and a spatula that was now half melted.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Extra!
I'm making a little change to my blog-- after I post part of 'Saving Professor' I'll post a little post about why I wrote that part. I may or may not do it after every addition to the story. It really depends on how I thought up that part. These little posts about the story will all be called 'Extra!'
'Saving Professor (Part 12)'
At the beginning of this section, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to make with it. I decided to put Petra in the only other place she could have gone-- in Professor's office.
I decided that she should find something there. I made her find the ad, but that didn't seem like enough, so I decided to have the man from the beginning come in and be a problem!
And a weird thing while I was writing-- when I had the word 'ad' in the middle of a sentence, Word didn't mark it with a red line. But when I had it at the end of the sentence, it marked it. I thought it was kinda strange.
So there ya go, your first 'Extra!'
'Saving Professor (Part 12)'
At the beginning of this section, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to make with it. I decided to put Petra in the only other place she could have gone-- in Professor's office.
I decided that she should find something there. I made her find the ad, but that didn't seem like enough, so I decided to have the man from the beginning come in and be a problem!
And a weird thing while I was writing-- when I had the word 'ad' in the middle of a sentence, Word didn't mark it with a red line. But when I had it at the end of the sentence, it marked it. I thought it was kinda strange.
So there ya go, your first 'Extra!'
Saving Professor (Part 12)
Back at the office, Petra had finished her work so fast that she finished the next day’s history assignments and Mr. Murphy had gone home three hours early.
Now that he was gone, she had nothing to do.
She tried reading the books on the shelves, but they were boring.
She then decided to explore the building again. Once she got to the elevator, she pressed the ‘close’ button twice, and the elevator shot her back up to Professor’s office.
He had given Petra and Collier permission to go there whenever they wanted, because they had been bright enough to find it on their own.
Petra wondered where she would be if they hadn’t found his office.
She knocked in his door; he didn’t open it. She peeked through the small window. A small lamp on his desk was shining a warm, glowing light. She slowly opened the door and stepped in.
Professor was nowhere to be seen. Then she remembered that he was teaching at the Boarding School.
Petra wandered over to his mini refrigerator and retrieved her grape juice bottle that she had left there on her last visit. Then she slumped down on a chair and pulled the footrest up. She selected a magazine from the coffee table.
It was titled ‘AAW—Agents Around the World.’
Petra took a sip out of the bottle and flipped to the middle of the magazine.
It was a page full of ads. She skimmed over them, uninterested. But one caught her eye— “Young child needed for special training. Must be from eight to twelve years old. Boy or girl. Contact Asher Alexander.”
Petra thought it was interesting that Alexander hadn’t put his phone number. Maybe he only wanted a kid that was in contact with someone Alexander already knew.
Petra stared at the ad.
Then she realized that she didn’t want to read a magazine at all. At least not after she had seen the ad.
The door opened. In came the man that Professor had talked to on the first day Petra and Collier came to the office.
The man that specifically told Professor not to show the kids his office.
Petra froze as the man scanned the room.
She was about to sigh of relief when his eyes landed on her.
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”
The man strode over to Petra.
“Could it be Professor Stein’s daughter?”
Petra stared blankly at him. She didn’t know whether or not to say yes or no. Professor had told the man that they were his kids. He meant that they were his kids as in students, but he knew the man would think that they were his biological kids.
“Too afraid to answer?” the man continued. “Is that because you are in a place that you are not allowed to be in?”
“No,” Petra answered in a voice she hoped was brave. “I’m allowed in here.”
“Oh, really? And who told you that?”
“Professor.”
Then Petra caught herself. She had called Professor “Professor.” She hoped the man wouldn’t notice.
He did.
“Oh. So you call your father ‘Professor’? Now isn’t that an interesting fact?”
“Well, you see, I used to go to the Boarding School that he taught at. When I had his class I wasn’t allowed to call him “Dad” so he just told me to call him ‘Professor.’”
Petra was glad that she had so easily come up with a reasonable explanation. But another part of her felt guilty of lying.
She watched the man’s expressions. He looked like he was thinking.
“Okay,” he finally said. “That sounds respectable. But you do know that he wasn’t supposed to show you this office, did you?”
“Oh, no,” Petra cut in, trying to defend Professor. “He didn’t show it to me. I found it.”
“And why were you roaming around in the building? Why weren’t you under adult supervision?”
“I found it because I was going to go from my room to the first floor. I pushed the close button on the elevator, but it was going so slowly I decided to press it again. Then it brought me down here.”
“Then why did you come in? You know intruding on another person’s office isn’t exactly respect. And you yourself had said that you respect Professor.”
Petra was about to point out that she had never said that she showed respect for Professor. But she decided not to tell the man. It would only make him angry.
“He let me in. I didn’t come in the first time I found this floor.”
“And does he know that he wasn’t supposed to let you in?”
“It’s his office,” Petra replied, standing up. “Shouldn’t he be in charge of his own space?” Petra began walking away. “And he’s the vice president of this place, you know.” She reached the door and opened it. She stopped and turned around. “And I bet you’re not even close.”
Anger flashed in the man’s eyes. He stood up and glared at Petra menacingly.
“If you must know, little child,” he growled in a low voice. “I am the president of this company.”
Petra’s eyes grew wide with realization. Then she did the only thing she could do, the only choice she had.
She spun around and ran.
Now that he was gone, she had nothing to do.
She tried reading the books on the shelves, but they were boring.
She then decided to explore the building again. Once she got to the elevator, she pressed the ‘close’ button twice, and the elevator shot her back up to Professor’s office.
He had given Petra and Collier permission to go there whenever they wanted, because they had been bright enough to find it on their own.
Petra wondered where she would be if they hadn’t found his office.
She knocked in his door; he didn’t open it. She peeked through the small window. A small lamp on his desk was shining a warm, glowing light. She slowly opened the door and stepped in.
Professor was nowhere to be seen. Then she remembered that he was teaching at the Boarding School.
Petra wandered over to his mini refrigerator and retrieved her grape juice bottle that she had left there on her last visit. Then she slumped down on a chair and pulled the footrest up. She selected a magazine from the coffee table.
It was titled ‘AAW—Agents Around the World.’
Petra took a sip out of the bottle and flipped to the middle of the magazine.
It was a page full of ads. She skimmed over them, uninterested. But one caught her eye— “Young child needed for special training. Must be from eight to twelve years old. Boy or girl. Contact Asher Alexander.”
Petra thought it was interesting that Alexander hadn’t put his phone number. Maybe he only wanted a kid that was in contact with someone Alexander already knew.
Petra stared at the ad.
Then she realized that she didn’t want to read a magazine at all. At least not after she had seen the ad.
The door opened. In came the man that Professor had talked to on the first day Petra and Collier came to the office.
The man that specifically told Professor not to show the kids his office.
Petra froze as the man scanned the room.
She was about to sigh of relief when his eyes landed on her.
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”
The man strode over to Petra.
“Could it be Professor Stein’s daughter?”
Petra stared blankly at him. She didn’t know whether or not to say yes or no. Professor had told the man that they were his kids. He meant that they were his kids as in students, but he knew the man would think that they were his biological kids.
“Too afraid to answer?” the man continued. “Is that because you are in a place that you are not allowed to be in?”
“No,” Petra answered in a voice she hoped was brave. “I’m allowed in here.”
“Oh, really? And who told you that?”
“Professor.”
Then Petra caught herself. She had called Professor “Professor.” She hoped the man wouldn’t notice.
He did.
“Oh. So you call your father ‘Professor’? Now isn’t that an interesting fact?”
“Well, you see, I used to go to the Boarding School that he taught at. When I had his class I wasn’t allowed to call him “Dad” so he just told me to call him ‘Professor.’”
Petra was glad that she had so easily come up with a reasonable explanation. But another part of her felt guilty of lying.
She watched the man’s expressions. He looked like he was thinking.
“Okay,” he finally said. “That sounds respectable. But you do know that he wasn’t supposed to show you this office, did you?”
“Oh, no,” Petra cut in, trying to defend Professor. “He didn’t show it to me. I found it.”
“And why were you roaming around in the building? Why weren’t you under adult supervision?”
“I found it because I was going to go from my room to the first floor. I pushed the close button on the elevator, but it was going so slowly I decided to press it again. Then it brought me down here.”
“Then why did you come in? You know intruding on another person’s office isn’t exactly respect. And you yourself had said that you respect Professor.”
Petra was about to point out that she had never said that she showed respect for Professor. But she decided not to tell the man. It would only make him angry.
“He let me in. I didn’t come in the first time I found this floor.”
“And does he know that he wasn’t supposed to let you in?”
“It’s his office,” Petra replied, standing up. “Shouldn’t he be in charge of his own space?” Petra began walking away. “And he’s the vice president of this place, you know.” She reached the door and opened it. She stopped and turned around. “And I bet you’re not even close.”
Anger flashed in the man’s eyes. He stood up and glared at Petra menacingly.
“If you must know, little child,” he growled in a low voice. “I am the president of this company.”
Petra’s eyes grew wide with realization. Then she did the only thing she could do, the only choice she had.
She spun around and ran.
Change in Story
I'm so sorry, I've changed the story again. (Sorry-- it's a part of writing!)
I know this is the second time I've changed it, but NOW Asher Alexander is getting millions of balloons and blowing them up. He thinks that having a larger mass on Earth will expand the planet.
So, yep, keep that in mind.
Again, sorry for the confusion!
I know this is the second time I've changed it, but NOW Asher Alexander is getting millions of balloons and blowing them up. He thinks that having a larger mass on Earth will expand the planet.
So, yep, keep that in mind.
Again, sorry for the confusion!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Answer to Elizabeth
What, you want me to switch stories? Tired of 'Saving Professor'? :P
'The Only Escape' was an English assignment that I decided to post.
'The Only Escape' was an English assignment that I decided to post.
Monday, September 19, 2011
'The Only Escape' (The Next Story)
Sorry that post was kinda... long.
I just wanted to give it to you in one piece.
Hope you enjoy it!
I just wanted to give it to you in one piece.
Hope you enjoy it!
'The Only Escape'
As I lay in bed I feel someone watching me.
I look around the room, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone.
I close my eyes and pull my covers up tight.
And for a moment, everything is still.
Suddenly, I feel something grabbing at my stomach; something intangible, something unseen.
I feel like I am being choked; then I realize that I am.
I can’t breathe.
My covers fly off and I think I hear a voice whispering. I’m not even afraid of it; I just hope that it didn’t say what I think it said.
“Get her.”
I feel like I am being swallowed into a pitch black hole. It takes too much energy to resist.
I let go and let myself fall into the darkness.
Jasmine Duncan woke up to a sharp sound. She grabbed her covers and waited, wondering if she maybe had just imagined it.
But it came again.
It was a crash from somewhere in the house. It sounded like breaking glass.
Jasmine jumped out of bed and ran out of the room just quiet enough not to wake her husband up.
She ran down the hall, her feet tiptoeing against the cold tile floor.
She was about to run into the kitchen when a piece of jagged glass swept across the ground, landing inches away from her foot.
She hesitated, then flicked on the light and peeked through the doorway. It took a moment for her mind to accept what she saw.
Allison, her daughter, was standing in a pool of shattered glass. Allison rummaged through the cupboards and came up with a wine glass, which she raised above her head and dropped. Then, delighted, she jumped into it, screaming. Blood smeared the otherwise white floor.
Jasmine shrieked and ran back to her bedroom.
“Jacob! Jacob!”
Her husband slept on, as if he were a hibernating bear in the dead of winter.
“JACOB!”
He groaned, rolled around, took a look at the clock, and rolled back around.
“Jacob! Wake up! It’s Allison!”
“Allison… Allison what?”
“Allison! Our daughter! You’ve got to see what’s going on!”
Jasmine yanked Jacob up and led him to the kitchen. When he saw what Allison was doing, he froze, his eyes locked forward, forcing him to stare at what he did not want to see.
Jacob lunged forward to stop her. Jasmine grabbed his arm and held him back.
“No, Jacob, you can’t go in there,” Jasmine commanded, her voice rising in fear. “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong, can’t you see it?”
Jacob’s jaw quivered and his arm began to tremble. Jasmine let go.
“Phone. Phone. GET THE PHONE!” he yelled, running from the kitchen. Jasmine took off after him.
A figure came into the light.
“Mom?”
Aaron.
“Don’t go any further, Aaron, sweetie. Something’s wrong with Allison.”
“Mom, I’m sixteen, I think I can handle seeing whatever my thirteen-year-old sister is going through.”
“No. No, Aaron, you can’t. Go back to bed. Just go.”
Aaron met Jasmine with a stare.
“GO!” Jasmine pointed to the door, sending Aaron away. Then, after thinking, she added in a quieter voice, “You can come out when I get you. Just not now.”
Just then, Jacob entered the room with his phone.
“Doctor. Get a doctor. Now.”
Jasmine took the phone and searched through the contacts until she came to Doctor Stevens. She hit ‘Talk’ harder than she had to.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
Jasmine rolled her eyes.
He’s got to pick up! she thought.
“Hello, this is Doctor Stevens. I am not available…”
Jasmine pressed ‘End’ and looked over at Jacob.
“Try again,” he said.
This time, Doctor Stevens picked up.
“Hello? Doctor Stevens here,” he answered in a sleepy voice.
“Doctor? Allison needs help.”
“Excuse me? Who is this?”
“Oh, right, sorry. This is Jasmine Duncan. Out daughter, Allison seems to be going crazy. We don’t know what’s happening to her, doctor. We’re really scared and we don’t know what to do…”
“I’ll be over soon. Give me ten minutes.”
Exactly ten minutes later, an old, rusty gray car pulled up into the Duncan’s driveway. Doctor Stevens, a tall, bearded man, stepped out.
“Lead me to where Allison is,” he ordered.
Silently, he followed Jasmine and Jacob inside. He shuddered when he heard glass breaking and a high-pitched cross between a scream and laughter.
Jasmine stopped in front of the door, not bearing to look inside.
Doctor Stevens peeked in. His reaction was similar to Jacob’s.
“Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, are you religious, by any chance?”
Jasmine and Jacob exchanged glances.
“No, not particularly,” Jasmine answered.
“That explains many things,” he responded, half to himself.
“What?” Jacob spoke up. “What is it, Doctor?”
“Now, I may be wrong, but if I’m right… Well, it’s pretty hard to take. Maybe I’m not right—“
“Just tell us!”
“All right. Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Well, if we don’t, then how are we going to help her?”
“You will never be able to help her in this circumstance.”
“Then who will?”
“Only an exorcist.”
“What?” Jasmine gasped.
“I have heard of cases like this before. And I think the only explanation to Allison’s unusual actions is that she is… is possessed.”
Jasmine grabbed her stomach and fainted.
Doctor Stevens sighed.
“She is shocked. That’s a natural reaction. Help me bring her to her bed.”
“And, what, leave Allison here?”
“Well, you left her here when you went outside to wait for me, didn’t you?”
A crash of glass broke the silence. They froze, as if listening for the devil himself walking out the door.
Jacob nodded. He took his wife’s shoulders while Doctor Stevens took her legs. Together, they carried her down the hall and set her on the bed.
In the darkness, they resumed their conversation.
“So about this… exorcist… where are we going to find one?”
“Well, I do know a friend who is a preacher. He has experience.”
“But how? Didn’t these things only happen a long time ago?”
Doctor Stevens shook his head.
“Evil is still on the planet, Mr. Duncan.”
Jacob looked down at his bare feet. He sighed heavily.
“This isn’t happening because we haven’t brought the kids to church, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so. I really can’t explain why. All we can do it get it out of her.”
“Get what out?” Jacob stared at Doctor Stevens, daring him to explain.
Doctor Stevens met Jacob’s eyes and shook his head.
“You know full well what I mean.” Then he took a wrinkled, old notepad and a pen out of his pocket. On it he wrote a phone number. He handed it to Jacob. “Call this number.”
“Now?”
“How soon do you want Allison back?”
Jacob whipped out his phone and dialed the number.
I’m engulfed in this darkness.
I can’t even see.
I feel like I’m moving—maybe I am. I’m walking.
Where am I going? How do I stop myself? What’s happening?
My feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen. Why can I still feel my feet but not be able to control them?
I feel myself open the cabinet. What am I doing? What’s controlling me?
My fingers touch a glass cup… and I pick it up.
What’s going on? Why am I picking up…
A loud sound shatters the stillness of the night.
My feet stomp onto something sharp.
Only then do I realize that I am breaking glass.
I want to cry out in pain, but I can’t. I hear myself scream, but I know that it’s not me who’s doing it.
What’s happening?
Then, in between the crashing and screeches, I hear something else.
It’s like a soft melody, but they’re only words. But it’s so hard to hear it… What are they saying?
I listen in and focus on their words, soft as a feathery wisp of cotton.
“Allison. Allison. Allison.”
“Come with us. We can put you out of your pain. We can take you out of your misery.”
“We know what’s happening. If you find us, we can tell you.”
“Allison. Allison. Allison…”
I wonder what these voices are. How do I follow them?
“Come and follow us.”
“Just relax… Just relax…”
Relax? Something’s making me break glass and I’m supposed to relax? How am I supposed to relax if I’m fighting hard to—
Wait. That’s it! I’m fighting hard. I’m fighting against whatever’s overcome me. If I just sit back, and relax…
I fall into the arms of the voices.
“Pastor Leonard?”
Jacob’s voice rang through the empty church.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
“I’m right here.”
Pastor Leonard walked into the light. He took a look at the family of four. They seemed fairly normal—average parents, an average teenage boy… and a girl.
The girl writhed in the father’s arms, foaming at the mouth. She let out a scream and flailed her arms in the air mercilessly.
“Possessed,” Pastor Leonard muttered under his breath. “Bring the girl to me.”
Jacob followed Pastor Leonard into the sanctuary. Rows and rows of blue velvet pews serenaded down the aisle.
Pastor Leonard motioned to the front row, where Jacob put Allison down. Surprisingly, she did not start at a screaming attempt to turn herself back on her feet.
Pastor Leonard met Jacob’s eyes with an unveiling stare.
“Now, if you will let me, I will try my best to heal your daughter.”
“Try?”
“I have always succeeded,” he assured Jacob. “But may I ask you and your family to please step out the door?”
Jacob nodded. He herded his wife and son out the door. Outside, they waited.
They listened as Pastor Leonard quickly mumbled words. A moment of silence followed. Then came a shriek, loud and clear. It wasn’t Allison’s voice. It screamed words in a foreign language, and then disappeared.
No one moved. The grandfather clock down the hall ticked meticulously.
Then the door opened. Pastor Leonard stepped out.
“How… how is she?” Jacob asked.
Pastor led the family back into the sanctuary, where Allison lay where they had left her, on the front pew. She looked peaceful.
A little bit too peaceful.
“Pastor?” Jasmine asked in a wavering voice. She grabbed Jacob’s arm. Aaron looked on in silence at his sister.
Pastor Leonard turned to the family.
“Your daughter is no longer possessed,” he announced. “But along the way, she has given up.”
Jasmine cried aloud and began weeping on Jacob’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry about this,” Pastor Leonard whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
No one seemed to be listening, but he continued anyway.
“She just couldn’t handle it any more… I’m so, so sorry…”
I look around the room, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone.
I close my eyes and pull my covers up tight.
And for a moment, everything is still.
Suddenly, I feel something grabbing at my stomach; something intangible, something unseen.
I feel like I am being choked; then I realize that I am.
I can’t breathe.
My covers fly off and I think I hear a voice whispering. I’m not even afraid of it; I just hope that it didn’t say what I think it said.
“Get her.”
I feel like I am being swallowed into a pitch black hole. It takes too much energy to resist.
I let go and let myself fall into the darkness.
Jasmine Duncan woke up to a sharp sound. She grabbed her covers and waited, wondering if she maybe had just imagined it.
But it came again.
It was a crash from somewhere in the house. It sounded like breaking glass.
Jasmine jumped out of bed and ran out of the room just quiet enough not to wake her husband up.
She ran down the hall, her feet tiptoeing against the cold tile floor.
She was about to run into the kitchen when a piece of jagged glass swept across the ground, landing inches away from her foot.
She hesitated, then flicked on the light and peeked through the doorway. It took a moment for her mind to accept what she saw.
Allison, her daughter, was standing in a pool of shattered glass. Allison rummaged through the cupboards and came up with a wine glass, which she raised above her head and dropped. Then, delighted, she jumped into it, screaming. Blood smeared the otherwise white floor.
Jasmine shrieked and ran back to her bedroom.
“Jacob! Jacob!”
Her husband slept on, as if he were a hibernating bear in the dead of winter.
“JACOB!”
He groaned, rolled around, took a look at the clock, and rolled back around.
“Jacob! Wake up! It’s Allison!”
“Allison… Allison what?”
“Allison! Our daughter! You’ve got to see what’s going on!”
Jasmine yanked Jacob up and led him to the kitchen. When he saw what Allison was doing, he froze, his eyes locked forward, forcing him to stare at what he did not want to see.
Jacob lunged forward to stop her. Jasmine grabbed his arm and held him back.
“No, Jacob, you can’t go in there,” Jasmine commanded, her voice rising in fear. “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong, can’t you see it?”
Jacob’s jaw quivered and his arm began to tremble. Jasmine let go.
“Phone. Phone. GET THE PHONE!” he yelled, running from the kitchen. Jasmine took off after him.
A figure came into the light.
“Mom?”
Aaron.
“Don’t go any further, Aaron, sweetie. Something’s wrong with Allison.”
“Mom, I’m sixteen, I think I can handle seeing whatever my thirteen-year-old sister is going through.”
“No. No, Aaron, you can’t. Go back to bed. Just go.”
Aaron met Jasmine with a stare.
“GO!” Jasmine pointed to the door, sending Aaron away. Then, after thinking, she added in a quieter voice, “You can come out when I get you. Just not now.”
Just then, Jacob entered the room with his phone.
“Doctor. Get a doctor. Now.”
Jasmine took the phone and searched through the contacts until she came to Doctor Stevens. She hit ‘Talk’ harder than she had to.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
Jasmine rolled her eyes.
He’s got to pick up! she thought.
“Hello, this is Doctor Stevens. I am not available…”
Jasmine pressed ‘End’ and looked over at Jacob.
“Try again,” he said.
This time, Doctor Stevens picked up.
“Hello? Doctor Stevens here,” he answered in a sleepy voice.
“Doctor? Allison needs help.”
“Excuse me? Who is this?”
“Oh, right, sorry. This is Jasmine Duncan. Out daughter, Allison seems to be going crazy. We don’t know what’s happening to her, doctor. We’re really scared and we don’t know what to do…”
“I’ll be over soon. Give me ten minutes.”
Exactly ten minutes later, an old, rusty gray car pulled up into the Duncan’s driveway. Doctor Stevens, a tall, bearded man, stepped out.
“Lead me to where Allison is,” he ordered.
Silently, he followed Jasmine and Jacob inside. He shuddered when he heard glass breaking and a high-pitched cross between a scream and laughter.
Jasmine stopped in front of the door, not bearing to look inside.
Doctor Stevens peeked in. His reaction was similar to Jacob’s.
“Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, are you religious, by any chance?”
Jasmine and Jacob exchanged glances.
“No, not particularly,” Jasmine answered.
“That explains many things,” he responded, half to himself.
“What?” Jacob spoke up. “What is it, Doctor?”
“Now, I may be wrong, but if I’m right… Well, it’s pretty hard to take. Maybe I’m not right—“
“Just tell us!”
“All right. Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Well, if we don’t, then how are we going to help her?”
“You will never be able to help her in this circumstance.”
“Then who will?”
“Only an exorcist.”
“What?” Jasmine gasped.
“I have heard of cases like this before. And I think the only explanation to Allison’s unusual actions is that she is… is possessed.”
Jasmine grabbed her stomach and fainted.
Doctor Stevens sighed.
“She is shocked. That’s a natural reaction. Help me bring her to her bed.”
“And, what, leave Allison here?”
“Well, you left her here when you went outside to wait for me, didn’t you?”
A crash of glass broke the silence. They froze, as if listening for the devil himself walking out the door.
Jacob nodded. He took his wife’s shoulders while Doctor Stevens took her legs. Together, they carried her down the hall and set her on the bed.
In the darkness, they resumed their conversation.
“So about this… exorcist… where are we going to find one?”
“Well, I do know a friend who is a preacher. He has experience.”
“But how? Didn’t these things only happen a long time ago?”
Doctor Stevens shook his head.
“Evil is still on the planet, Mr. Duncan.”
Jacob looked down at his bare feet. He sighed heavily.
“This isn’t happening because we haven’t brought the kids to church, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so. I really can’t explain why. All we can do it get it out of her.”
“Get what out?” Jacob stared at Doctor Stevens, daring him to explain.
Doctor Stevens met Jacob’s eyes and shook his head.
“You know full well what I mean.” Then he took a wrinkled, old notepad and a pen out of his pocket. On it he wrote a phone number. He handed it to Jacob. “Call this number.”
“Now?”
“How soon do you want Allison back?”
Jacob whipped out his phone and dialed the number.
I’m engulfed in this darkness.
I can’t even see.
I feel like I’m moving—maybe I am. I’m walking.
Where am I going? How do I stop myself? What’s happening?
My feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen. Why can I still feel my feet but not be able to control them?
I feel myself open the cabinet. What am I doing? What’s controlling me?
My fingers touch a glass cup… and I pick it up.
What’s going on? Why am I picking up…
A loud sound shatters the stillness of the night.
My feet stomp onto something sharp.
Only then do I realize that I am breaking glass.
I want to cry out in pain, but I can’t. I hear myself scream, but I know that it’s not me who’s doing it.
What’s happening?
Then, in between the crashing and screeches, I hear something else.
It’s like a soft melody, but they’re only words. But it’s so hard to hear it… What are they saying?
I listen in and focus on their words, soft as a feathery wisp of cotton.
“Allison. Allison. Allison.”
“Come with us. We can put you out of your pain. We can take you out of your misery.”
“We know what’s happening. If you find us, we can tell you.”
“Allison. Allison. Allison…”
I wonder what these voices are. How do I follow them?
“Come and follow us.”
“Just relax… Just relax…”
Relax? Something’s making me break glass and I’m supposed to relax? How am I supposed to relax if I’m fighting hard to—
Wait. That’s it! I’m fighting hard. I’m fighting against whatever’s overcome me. If I just sit back, and relax…
I fall into the arms of the voices.
“Pastor Leonard?”
Jacob’s voice rang through the empty church.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
“I’m right here.”
Pastor Leonard walked into the light. He took a look at the family of four. They seemed fairly normal—average parents, an average teenage boy… and a girl.
The girl writhed in the father’s arms, foaming at the mouth. She let out a scream and flailed her arms in the air mercilessly.
“Possessed,” Pastor Leonard muttered under his breath. “Bring the girl to me.”
Jacob followed Pastor Leonard into the sanctuary. Rows and rows of blue velvet pews serenaded down the aisle.
Pastor Leonard motioned to the front row, where Jacob put Allison down. Surprisingly, she did not start at a screaming attempt to turn herself back on her feet.
Pastor Leonard met Jacob’s eyes with an unveiling stare.
“Now, if you will let me, I will try my best to heal your daughter.”
“Try?”
“I have always succeeded,” he assured Jacob. “But may I ask you and your family to please step out the door?”
Jacob nodded. He herded his wife and son out the door. Outside, they waited.
They listened as Pastor Leonard quickly mumbled words. A moment of silence followed. Then came a shriek, loud and clear. It wasn’t Allison’s voice. It screamed words in a foreign language, and then disappeared.
No one moved. The grandfather clock down the hall ticked meticulously.
Then the door opened. Pastor Leonard stepped out.
“How… how is she?” Jacob asked.
Pastor led the family back into the sanctuary, where Allison lay where they had left her, on the front pew. She looked peaceful.
A little bit too peaceful.
“Pastor?” Jasmine asked in a wavering voice. She grabbed Jacob’s arm. Aaron looked on in silence at his sister.
Pastor Leonard turned to the family.
“Your daughter is no longer possessed,” he announced. “But along the way, she has given up.”
Jasmine cried aloud and began weeping on Jacob’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry about this,” Pastor Leonard whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
No one seemed to be listening, but he continued anyway.
“She just couldn’t handle it any more… I’m so, so sorry…”
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Yay... (Not Really)
I only have to followers on this blog.
Where's everyone else?? I know you guys read this!
Where's everyone else?? I know you guys read this!
Answers to Comments/Question
Here's my responses to your comments on 'Saving Professor-- Part 11':
Bookworm-- Yep. When I read over that part of the story, I laughed... I like the character Alexander. He's fun to write.
Elizabeth- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!! That's the whole point of the story! He's at Alexander's office so that Alexander can "train" him and tell him all about his evil schemes!!!!!!!
Bookworm-- Yep. When I read over that part of the story, I laughed... I like the character Alexander. He's fun to write.
Elizabeth- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!! That's the whole point of the story! He's at Alexander's office so that Alexander can "train" him and tell him all about his evil schemes!!!!!!!
A Snippet From 'The Long Journey' (True Story)
Silently, slowly, I made my way down the outdoor hall to my room. When I got to the door, I didn’t go directly to in as I had planned to. I stopped at the railing and placed my hands on the wet rail to look out over the scene.
Neon lights advertised nearby stores. Cars on the highways zoomed by. And somewhere out there was Abilene Christian University.
And TCSIT.
Rain splatted against my face. I urged myself to lift my face up, to feel the wetness, but I only blinked and flinched in response to the sudden drops.
An opening door down the hall made me quickly take my hands off the rail and wipe my face. Kailey walked out of her room and turned the corner.
Good, I thought. She didn’t see me.
I tried to imagine what someone would have thought at the sight of me staring blankly into the rain. They wouldn’t have questioned me, but they certainly wouldn’t have thought little of it.
I unlocked the door. But I just couldn’t let the moment go. I turned back once again to look at the rain.
Maybe it actually isn’t so bad, I thought. Maybe.
Then I turned the doorknob and went in.
Neon lights advertised nearby stores. Cars on the highways zoomed by. And somewhere out there was Abilene Christian University.
And TCSIT.
Rain splatted against my face. I urged myself to lift my face up, to feel the wetness, but I only blinked and flinched in response to the sudden drops.
An opening door down the hall made me quickly take my hands off the rail and wipe my face. Kailey walked out of her room and turned the corner.
Good, I thought. She didn’t see me.
I tried to imagine what someone would have thought at the sight of me staring blankly into the rain. They wouldn’t have questioned me, but they certainly wouldn’t have thought little of it.
I unlocked the door. But I just couldn’t let the moment go. I turned back once again to look at the rain.
Maybe it actually isn’t so bad, I thought. Maybe.
Then I turned the doorknob and went in.
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