1. Callign

1. Callign

A Chapter by Alysha

I slowly regained consciousness, pulling myself from the shroud of dreams I so rarely got to see these days. My eyes felt scratchy, glued together and still very heavy. I laid there trying to gather comfort from my familiar Miami city home. A wintry, pine-scented breeze blew in from beneath my door. Confusion bounded through my tired mind wrinkling my forehead as I breathed in the unfamiliar scent. Breezes in Miami were warm, tropical, they wrapped you in the clean scent of the ocean and coconut oil from the tourists. I opened my eyes carefully to find wooden support beams instead of the stucco-textured ceiling I knew and still expected to see.

 

I shot up in my bed fearing, for a moment, that someone had kidnapped me during the night until I remembered that my crack w***e of a mother dragged my happy a*s all the way up from Miami Florida to Bum F**k Egypt (a.k.a. Ophiem, Montana), With a whopping population of 99 people, Ophiem Montana, the place you go so no one can hear you scream. Can you imagine just short of a hundred people that’s not even a tenth of the population in Miami!

 

I sighed digressing from my rage knowing there was nothing that could be done now. Looking at the radio clock next to my bed and reading the time to be 7:32 I remembered that my addict mother also enrolled me into a public school, for the first time (that is if you can call it a public school with a graduating class of only twelve seniors).

 

I pushed back the blankets on my bed to jump onto the glossy hardwood floor. My feet froze instantly. I let out one large tremor before forcing myself to the closet. It was minimally stocked with the few clothes I owned hung beside the newer items my mother bought before we moved up.

 

Back in Miami I had no need for a winter wardrobe, the sun was always shining and even when it wasn’t you still wanted to wear shorts. I sighed, longing for my tropical oasis as I pulled out a long-sleeved, emerald green, v-neck sweater and a pair of dark navy-blue, jeans. The clothes fit snug to show what little curves I had, I walked back to my bed, picking up the brush I had laid out on the bedside table. I brushed through my dark hair quickly in an attempt to put it up when I heard squeaking coming from across the hall along with my mother’s drawn out moans.

 

I slammed the brush down on the vanity table glaring a hole into the wall. Her schedule must be full, to be working this early, I thought sarcastically. It wouldn’t surprise me if her day was booked, men can’t help themselves when something knew or exotic steps across their path, her docket should even out in a few days, maybe then I can have at least somewhat of a normal life, I told myself. Unlike most teenagers who call their mothers such nasty names, mine was honestly a w***e, it was sick, but what I believe never seemed to make much of a difference. I rolled my eyes at the thought of being normal and stalked out of my room. I headed for the door, grabbing the backpack I had left in the hall. I got halfway to my bus stop when I noticed that it was snowing and I had no coat. I flung the backpack over both shoulders and folded my arms over myself holding back the shivers I felt pushing for release.

 

A rickety yellow death trap pulled up shortly after my arrival at the designated. The bus shook savagely as it idled on the side of the road. I honestly debated the sanity in stepping onto it. The wind picked up in that final instant driving me into the minimal shelter that the bus offered. It was overly crowded, kids flowing into the aisles, screaming and laughing. I waited a moment for the path to clear, it didn’t. I tried to force my way through, being roughly pushed and shoved. I was getting more and more aggravated the longer I was kept from sitting.

 

“MOVE!” I shouted, though it didn’t quite work as I wanted it to, a group of rowdy kids in the front scooted together almost instantly, but the rest took their time in moving out of my way, all were looking at me now as I walked by. Many started whispering and snickering after I had gone by. I did my best to ignore it but the truth of what they were discussing enraged me. A jock, a little over midway down the bus stuck his foot out in the hopes of tripping me. He was disappointed when it didn’t work but didn’t try to make up for his lack of being a jerk. I walked to the back where I sat down, next to two heavily make-upped, darkly dressed girls who scooted closely together the instant they noticed I was going to sit there.

 

The moment I sat down the staring eyes returned to their previous object of occupation, all that is except two. One set were a dark pine-green, belonging to one of the rowdy kids, up front. He had a shocking wealth of red hair, and cords of thick muscles snaked up his neck giving him a body builders physique, but his face was still young, the comparison was almost comical. The other pair were black and belonged to a guy I would consider cultured, rich, his hair was dark to match his eyes, carefully styled to look as though he had just woken up and let it fall where it would. He too had a powerful frame, although he looked slighter then the previous one, his face was young as well, but it fit better to his body then the other and his eyes with their depth and focus held an age unimaginable by the world. Both had a feeling of dominance about them, as though they were used to giving orders and having them followed. It was strange but I felt like I knew them, maybe once a long time ago. fragments of memories I never knew I had flashed quickly through my mind, they were distant, blurred, like pieces from a dream long forgotten.

 

Images of grand ballrooms and Italian sculptures flowed through my mind, they reminded me of paintings from the Italian renaissance with the lavish golds and granites, sweeping staircases, tapered candle stands. The grandeur of the first images faded away closely followed by those of enormous trees and lush meadows, passing beneath large padded feet.

 

I closed my eyes as the images began to blend melting together, their speed and weight pressing against the back of my eyes causing a migraine I sincerely didn’t have the time to deal with. I pushed back against them, shaking the thoughts from my head.

 

I tried to pass off the looks, along with the unnerving sense of familiarity as the bus lurched forward. I consciously avoided looking at the eyes I knew still followed me. Reaching into my pack I pulled out one of my favorite novels, Demon in My View by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes . However, as I opened it I couldn’t focus on the words, I still felt their gazes. They crowded in at the edges of my mind, slowly nibbling in to the center of my attention. I looked again to the line that I couldn’t remember reading but that still looked familiar. Finally, I set the book down, glaring at each of them in turn.

 

“Can I help you?” I snarled. They gave me a look of shock but quickly looked away. The Irish boy went back to talking to his group of friends, whil the other buried his face in a book. I tried to do the same but it was impossible now. So I settled on looking out the window as the gray pine trees slowly passed by. I felt another small pang of loss as I realized I wouldn’t see another palm tree as long as I lived here.

 

The bus ride was excruciatingly slow, the swirling snow outside passing the rickety old cheese mobile. More kids were picked up and before I knew it I was surrounded by a group of cheerleaders, jabbering endlessly of boys, while texting the person two inches from them. their bubblegum scented breath choking out any hope of fresh air. Their uniforms were ridiculous, with a mixing of two colors that should, honestly, never go together, orange and black, with the typical Viking image plastered on their fronts. I was glad when the bus finally pulled up to the school building, I was more then ready to get off.

 

I rushed off the bus trying to escape the cluster of kids and suffocating air. I passed several buildings of similar size and shape before I realized that I had no Idea where I was supposed to go. I stood, waiting; surely, someone would notice the new girl and help her. A tap on my shoulder got my attention. I met the familiar green eyes of the burly young man on the bus. He smiled easily at me. He was tall, taller than I was anyway, which is rare, and muscle bound. He walked easily, quietly at odds with his clumsy build. Everything about his stance said predator, from the distance between his feet on the ground, to his breathing and even the way he seemed to be focused on me, yet aware of everything else around him. It was a little disconcerting to have him standing next to me. Over his broad shoulder I noticed a few girls staring over at us. They were cheerleaders, deep scowls etched into their make-up caked faces. I smirked, already I was crossing lines and I hadn’t been on campus for more then five minutes.

 

“Lost are ya?” He asked, drawing my mind back to him. His voice was deep, rich, with hints of an Irish brogue.

 

“Yeah could you tell me where the office is?” I answered.

 

“It’s this way, I’ll show ya.”

 

“Thanks” I followed him into the building, down a short hall to a small cove in the wall that appeared to be an afterthought on the part of the architect. A pencil thin man sat in front of a large computer screen, he wore spectacles that had geek written all over them, and a blank expression that read; I have no real life.

 

“How can I help you?” He asked, without looking up from the screen. I took a deep breath preparing to explain my situation but before I said anything, my guide started talking.

 

“She’s new and she needs her schedule.” He said for me. I let my breath slowly hiss through my clenched teeth. He smiled down at me until he saw my face then turned away.

 

“I’ll see ya later.” He sputtered hesitantly and then walked out. I watched him leave feeling minutely guilty for making him uncomfortable, but honestly it served him right, I can handle myself.

 

“What’s your name?” The secretary asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

 

“What?”

 

“Your name, so I can bring up your schedule.”

 

“Oh, it’s Callign Night.”

 

“Alright here you go.” He said handing me a slip of warm paper straight from the printer. “Your first class is Chemistry with Ms. Heckly.” He directed as he shuffled through a pile of papers in a small wire basket on the desk, “Her room is just down the hall to your left, three doors down on the right hand side.” He handed me several other sheets of paper that he had just picked out. “This is your locker assignment,” He said pointing to a box on one of the papers.

 

“Senior lockers are just outside the office, you may want to hurry classes are just about to start.” He gave me a smile and I thanked him, leaving the room quickly to follow his directions to my first class, while keeping a look out for my locker.

 

The bell began to ring as I slid into an empty seat, next to an average looking blonde girl. I set my backpack down, pulling out a fresh notebook and mechanical pencil. I clicked the led into place, waiting for the lesson to start, passing the time by doodling. Ms. Heckly, the teacher, came in with an expectant look, she pulled a clipboard from her desk, reading off the names of the students. I paid close attention not wanting to draw any looks my way.

 

“Ba-dik Gut-libel?” The teacher called out.

 

“Baldric Gottlieb,” The voice was distinctly male with a slight German accent, painted among the words. I giggled with some of the other students, until I looked over my shoulder at the owner. I felt a tingle of familiarity as I took in his blonde hair and sea-green eyes. He was strongly built, but in a lean, fast kind of way. He reminded me of those portraits you see of those avenging angels, tall, well muscled, with a haunted look in his eyes. His young face was in contrast to the years held within his green eyes. He was, handsome, a thought that was foreign to me, it took me a few moments to realize that I was staring, but it didn‘t seem to matter at this moment. He looked up from his notebook and our eyes met. For a second the classroom faded, I felt the cool brush of night against my skin, could smell the scent of freshly pressed grass.

 

“Calling Night?” The teacher’s voice drove into my musings, pulling me from the images and depositing me back into the classroom. I gasped unable to catch my breath. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and saw the two guys from the bus, look up intently. Baldric looked up as well. Warmth crept into my cheeks at his interest.

 

“Calling Night?” The teacher said again. I sighed knowing I had missed my chance to avoid being noticed. I pulled my attention away from Baldric to answer.

 

“It’s pronounced Colleen, and here.” I raised my hand and felt the two pairs of eyes sweep over me again. The teacher continued as if nothing strange had occurred and I learned that the two guys’ names were Richard Mereli and Ezekiel Remer. The names burned deep within my mind, as though some part of me wouldn’t allow me to forget them. After roll call, Ms. Heckly turned to the chalkboard, writing down the class objectives for the day. Easy stuff really, the elements and what they made.

 

“Hi I’m Rachel. Rachel Straus.” A thin, pale hand was held before my face, it was connected to the blonde girl next to me. She was looking intently at me with a broad smile. Her voice sounded a bit broken, she never quite met my eyes, not unusual for me, people never seemed capable to look me in the eye for very long, my own mother had difficulties with looking me in the face, but usually I contributed that to the shame she felt towards her job. I shook her slender, petit, hand loosely.

 

“Hi, Callign,” I went back to my doodling.

 

“How is your name spelled?” I wrote my name on my paper, tilting so she could see.

 

“That’s a weird way to spell it, no wonder Ms. Heckly couldn’t pronounce it, of course she can’t pronounce my name either. She never ends up getting anyone’s name right, plus she’s blind as a bat and deaf as a post, she has dementia too. Poor old girl’s over her retirement but they let her stay because, she loves the kids, she says. Me, personally, I think it’s because they pay her at the pay rate she started teaching with and they don‘t want to pay a new person double that.” She started to giggle but stopped when she noticed I hadn’t joined her. She cleared her throat, looking around uncomfortably.

 

“So- What’s your schedule look like?” I pulled out the slip of paper the secretary gave to me earlier and handed it to her, not really paying attention. She looked it over.

 

“Your next class is Trig. You go down the hall and to your left, you’ll see a ramp, go up that ramp and there’s the trig room. Cassidy over there has it too.” I looked over and noticed that the girl she pointed to was wearing one of those ridiculously colored uniforms. The girl waved, I smiled back for a moment, out of kindness. “Oh and it also looks like we have gym together,” The bells rang as she finished her sentence. I picked up my stuff heading for the door. The cheerleader, Cassidy, met me out in the hall. She looped her arm through mine, pulling me down the hall like she and I were the closest friends.

 

“So Rachel tells me that we have a few classes together,” She said with a tight smile. I looked down at her. She was a bit taller than the average girl, yet I was still taller. She dragged me down the hall, into the bathrooms where I saw that more of her squad was gathered. They circled around us as we entered. Cassidy dropped my arm and walked up to hug one of the other girls. She was the shortest one but seemed to be the queen b***h.

 

“Hey there Josephine,” Cassidy said as she pulled away, joining the group around me. I stood feeling extremely tall among the others but I knew that these girls weren’t here to get me on their side.

 

“Welcome to Opheim High.” The short one started, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. “We just want to make sure you feel welcome, oh and of course you must be made aware of the rules around here,” she said sweetly. “First the guys here belong to us, we get first pick, second don’t go for Richard or Zeik they are definitely off limits to your kind and third don’t get in our way. Got it?” She rattled off these rules with an air of superiority, managing despite her size to look down her nose at me. I stood back not caring about what they said. However, the fact that they were trying to control me pissed me off. I straightened my spine, looking to each of the b*****s in turn.

 

“Thanks for the welcoming committee but I think I’m pretty capable of figuring things out on my own.” I turned to leave and reached the door before I turned to look straight at the midget ringleader. “Oh, and the next time you set your sights on a guy, you might want to make sure he can see you.” I saw her face go from shock to rage before I left. My detour threw me off, causing me to lose my way as I slowly walked through the halls, trying to find my way back to familiar ground. Needless to say, I was late to my next class. The teacher, an older looking man with the unfortunate name of Mr. Puferd, pointed to an empty desk in the front. I sat without a word. Fortunately for me, I was new and not the only one late. Cassidy appeared in the door a few minutes after me.

 

“Nice of you to join us Cassidy, have a seat.” She didn’t look at me the whole time it took her to cross the room and sit in the seat as far from me as possible. “Oh and Cassidy I’m glad to know you don’t appreciate lunch because you’ll be spending it with me.” Her face blanched and she glared at me. I stifled a laugh as looked forward to see what this hour held for me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By lunch, I figured out that the only difference between public and private school was that public schools didn’t have uniforms. The cafeteria was a small square hot box, which seemed to capture all the heat from the kids and the kitchen and just magnify it. I had heard that some schools in Miami served food to some kids free, but I’m sure my mother couldn’t be that good. Sure enough, I found that I would have to pay for my meals.

 

“Tell ya what,” A deep vibrato rumbled from behind me and I sighed knowing who spoke before I even turned to see those strongly built shoulders and forest green eyes. Sure enough, there was Ezekiel standing right behind me.

 

“I’ll pay for ya this time, if ya sit with me an’ my friends.” He gave me a wink and passed a fistful of bills to the lunch lady. I looked at him warily but followed as he led me to a table on the far side of the room close to the windows. I sat down and looked at my tray of food. I got the things that appeared the most edible but even so, I wasn’t sure what was safe. I picked up my fork and poked at a red-flecked, brown square (the fork bounced back). I must not have hidden my disgust as well as I’d hoped because Ezekiel burst into an exuberant laugh. As embarrassed, as I was I started laughing too. He took deep breaths as his laughter subsided.

 

"Don't worry," He said, "It won't bite ya but I'm not completely sure it is edible, here." He handed me half a sandwich from out of the crumpled, brown, paper bag he carried. If you could call it a sandwich, it was more like thick slabs of ham, between two thin slices of wheat bread. I watched as he took a large bite off the other half before nibbling at the edges of mine, the ham was honey glazed, sweet and salty.

 

"So Ezekiel---"

 

"Call me Zeik," He cut in around a mouthful of meat and bread.

 

“Zeik, do you have something going with them?” I pointed at the cheerleaders who were continually glaring at me. When he looked over his shoulder, they were all smiles.

 

“What those cheap s***s? Nah, why?”

 

“Well then you might want to set them straight, they seem to think they own you, and Richard.” Zeik stopped chewing for a moment.

 

“I don’t know who gave ‘em the opinion that I was interested, but I’m certainly not. How did you find this out?”

 

“Their welcoming committee tried to lay down the rules for me, but I guess they didn’t count on the fact that I’m the queen b***h where I come from.”

 

“Why’d ya leave then?”

 

“Too many of my mother’s “friends” were showing interest in me. She couldn't stand the competition so she packed me up and drove me up here. It's sad really, that men could be that desperate."

 

"So yar mother is a…”

 

"A w***e? Yeah."

 

"Not the word I would have used but ya seem to be ok 'bout it."

 

"You get used to the idea after a while I guess, especially when it puts food on the table, but it's not something I would choose for my life. I prefer using my mind rather than my body to get what I want. Of course when you look like a walking stick you don't get very many complements on your looks." Zeik shrugged.

 

"I generally like girls with a wee bit more meat on their bones, but I can see you being a model." I gave a half-hearted laugh.

 

"Thanks," I said, "I get that pretty often but it never seems to work out, people tend to look down on me once they know who my mother is, tend to think I‘ll be exactly like her, besides all anybody wants is sex and I‘m not supplying.."

 

"I don't know, but I happen to be a pretty good photographer, of course it’s more nature shots but my sister has many clothes you could try. That is if ya want to model for me." He winked at me with a contagious smile that brought my lips up at the corners as well.

 

"Sure why not." I said finally giving in to his irresistible charm. I could finally see why the cheerleaders were so intent on having him.

 

"How does tonight sound? Around eight maybe?”

 

"Sounds fine, it’ll save me the embarrassment of having to hear my mother all night."

 

He blanched for a second before turning to the crowd on our left. I noticed that there was almost a bubble around us that no one else seemed able to cross. "Mary?" A tall, golden skinned, mahogany-haired girl stood and walked past the bubble to join us.

 

“Mary this is Callign, Callign this is my twin sister Mary.” Zeik introduced us almost as though we were in the middle of the eighteenth century and not a modern day cafeteria. He turned back to his sister after the civilities were taken care of.

 

"Mary, would ya mind if Callign borrowed a few of yar clothes?"

 

"For what?" She asked with the same strong accent as her brother.

 

"We have set up a photo shoot and she's goin' to be my specimen." She looked up at me and smiled in a way that made me feel like I was in the eyes of a predator. Her eyes were that of a rich amber yellow to match her golden girl motif. They constricted and focused solely on me. Her easy smile remained in place but deep in her eyes, I saw a dominance that sought to put me beneath her. An angry flare shot its way through me, I forced myself to smile back with the same ferocity. I saw her eyes widen a bit before she turned away. Zeik, who'd been watching the whole interaction, cleared his throat.

 

"So what do ya say Mary?"

 

"Yeah that'd be fine, we've been trying to get him to photograph outside the

forest." She said to me with a quick, somewhat agitated glance. The bell trilled sharply sending the other kids scattering like a light on cockroaches. Mary approached me after I dumped my tray of uneaten food.

 

"What’s yar next class?" she asked, her voice no less friendly as her cold eyes.

 

"I think its choir?" I said as I dug through my pockets for my schedule. Sure enough, that's what it was and once again, I found myself being dragged down the linoleum hallways of the school. Mary dragged me all the way to the choir room.

 

"Come on," She said as if I wasn't already attached to her. She pulled me inside and presented me to the instructor. "'ere, Mrs. Remer, this is the new student from Florida."

 

"What?" The trim woman said in the same Irish brogue.

 

"Ms. Night." Mary said in an attempt to help the instructor to realize that I was new.

 

"Ain't ya a wee bit thin there lass?" She asked giving me a look over that reminded me of a wolf looking at a snack. Mary hurried to sit down in one of the straight-backed concert chairs. “Ah well I suppose tis ok as long as ya can sing. Come on then stand up straight and don’ hold in ya stomach, now take a big breath an' sing.”

 

“Sing what?”

 

“Anything ya know, even Twinkle, Twinkle.” I took a deep breath, holding it for a moment to try to run through the lists of songs I had banked in my memories. At first I thought to do nursery rhyme songs, but they were too childish, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself, then my mind reverted back to the song I had memorized for my mother when I was five, it was from The Phantom of the Oprah, “Think of Me.” I remembered how my mother had clapped after I was done. I sang haltingly but as Mrs. Remer joined in with the piano, I belted out the notes to the shocked classroom. As I came to a soft close almost the entire class rose to their feet and applauded me, with the acceptation of the few cheerleaders.

 

“That, my dear, was the most beautiful representation of that song I ever heard, can ya sing something else to show ya range?”

 

“Um sure,” I said remembering another song, “Diamonds are a Girls Best Friends,” from the Mullion Rogue. The whole class nearly joined in as I ended the song. The instructor clapped exuberantly.

 

“Wonderful jus’ wonderful my dear! I would like to have ya sit in with the first sopranos. Mary, help her to find out where we are.”

 

“Yes mum,” She said reluctantly.

 

We spent the rest of the hour singing songs for the upcoming musical. The hour passed by smoothly and I was surprised when the bell rang for us to proceed to our last hour. I looked to my slip once more to make sure I had remembered correctly and a malicious smile came to my face as I remembered that Rachel, the blonde from first hour, told me that we shared this hour together as well. I hurried to the gym and checked in with the teacher, Mr. Ellingsworth. He cast his gaze down the list he held.

 

“Ah there you are. Come with me and we’ll get you a uniform.” I followed him to a utility closet. The closet was filled with the usual fair; hola-hoops, jump ropes, and a box of gym uniforms you would use if you didn’t bring your own. I picked out a set that was a little big, not wanting to confuse the boys in this class that I was a younger version of my mother.

 

We were playing volleyball today; the coach showed me the basics and then placed me on a team. I picked up the game just as Rachel’s team stepped on to the court opposite of ours. I smiled menacingly as our eyes met, waiting for the perfect opportunity to spike the ball right in her pale, freckled, face.

 

Our match was quick, coming down to the final two points for my team. I only managed to hit Rachel once in the back of the head, a disappointment for me. After the game finished, the coach dismissed us to go shower, ten minutes before the bell to end school.

 

In the locker room, bursts of laughter interrupted my thoughts as I dressed down. A group of cheerleaders circled around Rachel. I could hear they’re jabs and hazing. My heart twisted with a little bit of guilt as I realized she had it worse then I did. I shook my head and dove between them.

 

“Get your things and dress in front of my locker,” I directed the statement to Rachel. She sat there stunned for a moment but then hastened to do as she was told.

 

“Oh look,” One of the girls said in faked ogling tones, “The w***e’s daughter is defending the weak geek, how precious.” I turned on her.

 

“At least my mother thoroughly checks everyone she sleeps with. I bet that all of you either have an STD or have had an abortion in the last three months.” I spat. The girls stood there in shock, the mouthy one sputtered a bit. Finally, one of them broke out in tears, running into a bathroom stall.

 

“Now look what you did, b***h” The mouthy one accused as she ran past me to comfort the crying girl. The others followed, pushing past me, planting glares that would wither any other to a whimpering coward as they went. I took them, dealing as much as I was dealt. I turned back to my locker. Rachel sat there with a dazzled look on her face, tears  building on her lids.

 

“You okay?” I asked, trying to shake off my discomfort at being looked at in such a way, I was nobody’s savior. She nodded, sniffling a bit.

 

“Thanks,” She added.

 

“Don’t thank me; no one should get hazed by someone who’s in a worse situation.”

 

“How did you know about those girls?” She asked admiration in her tone.

 

“A lot of it was guessing, but when your looking at cheerleaders, most of them tend to date jocks, who are shallower then a mud puddle anyway and only looking for a piece of a*s.”

 

She smiled up at me, her braces glinting in the blinding florescent lighting, and her freckled cheeks reddened with gratitude. The sight made me laugh and she joined in with a shy giggle as we left and started towards the buses.



© 2010 Alysha


Author's Note

Alysha
No I personally don't feel this way about cheerleaders, it was just how the character took shape.

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Featured Review

I enjoyed this.
If I had to guess just from the first chapter alone I'd say this is going to be a story about vampires. The way you described the Irish guy, the avenging angel bloke, and the bed haired one says vampire to me. If you want to keep the mystery alive past the first chapter as to who or what they are, you might want to limit the amount of space you use for describing characters. Other than that I think this is a great start to a very intriguing story. I love the way you write. You're very good with humor and have a good eye for writing the way people actually talk. Sometimes writers will make characters say the stupidest things in their stories that no real person would ever say. You do a good job with not doing that and keeping it real. I'll definitely be reading more when I get the chance.
Great First Chapter

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I enjoyed this.
If I had to guess just from the first chapter alone I'd say this is going to be a story about vampires. The way you described the Irish guy, the avenging angel bloke, and the bed haired one says vampire to me. If you want to keep the mystery alive past the first chapter as to who or what they are, you might want to limit the amount of space you use for describing characters. Other than that I think this is a great start to a very intriguing story. I love the way you write. You're very good with humor and have a good eye for writing the way people actually talk. Sometimes writers will make characters say the stupidest things in their stories that no real person would ever say. You do a good job with not doing that and keeping it real. I'll definitely be reading more when I get the chance.
Great First Chapter

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on May 16, 2010
Last Updated on November 15, 2010


Author

Alysha
Alysha

San Diego, CA



About
Hello everyone I am Alysha Raelene. I live a simple life with my husband we are experienceing the joys and pains of pregnancy at the moment and we're loving the chance. I love writing and all that go.. more..

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