Alone It Stands (1st page)

            The cold wind howls as it rustles the gold and orange leaves. A full moon rises just above the trees, shedding a glow on the dark night. The leaves on the ground swirl about with the shifting wind. Somewhere among the trees faint voices can be heard. When the wind slows, the crunch of footsteps on leaves is the only sound that echoes among the trees.

           “C’mon, move faster. We don’t have all night.” A young girl hurriedly walks through the forest. Her breath billows as a cloud in the chilly autumn air. Not far behind her a boy about her age follows her through the darkness.

           “Slow down. I can’t see where I’m…” his words are cut short as he trips over a log and falls face first into the leaves. He sits up and grunts. “How much further do we have to go?”

           “We’re almost there. Here let me help you.” She reaches out her hand and pulls him to his feet.

           They continue walking at a slightly slower pace and soon enter a clearing. A broken concrete path stretches from the edge of the woods towards a large building. As the moon breaks from behind a cloud the clearing is lit up. They stand gaping at a large worn brick building. Most of its dusty windows are intact, though some are only holes with shards clinging to the edges. Dead vines wrap around the tin roof. The few trees nearest to the building tap rhythmically against the walls.

            The girl is the first to step forward. “Isn’t this place awesome?”

  

            The boy looks less enthusiastic but still intrigued. “What did you say it used to be?”

            “It was a printing office like 60 years ago but it closed down.” She swirls around and turns her flashlight up towards her face and says in her spookiest voice “no one knows why.”

This is the beginning of a story I hope to continue working on soon

Soul Mate

Prologue

            In a far off galaxy there is a planet not so different from our own. The natural environment is slightly varied but mostly mimics ours. Some buildings are more elaborate, while most are wooden cabins. The people interact mostly the same as us. But there is one stark difference between them and us. When each child turns 13 they are given a wrist band. Once this band in on their skin it begins counting backwards from a number. The number is the amount of days until they meet their soul mate. Once that day arrives the numbers count down in hours, then minutes, then to the exact moment when the two will meet.

            Each person has a different experience related to their soul band. If the person is lucky enough to have already met their soul mate before they were 13, their number starts at zero. Some meticulously watch the numbers until they find their soul mate. Others meander through life, dating and having fun, until they get close to the end of their countdown. Some are stricken by tragedy when their countdown suddenly stops and they realize their soul mate has been lost. A few are lucky enough for their band to start ticking again, signifying that they have been given a second chance.

            Once the two meet there are several reactions. Some immediately fall madly in love. Others decide to be friends and take their time getting to know one another. Some try to ignore the numbers telling them that they have met their match, but eventually they realize that there is no one better and return to their soul mate. But on very rare occasions, in fact only one known in history, a person decides to take fate into their own hands and refuses to ever look at their number. The following story is the legend of that one brave soul.

Why Write?

Why write? This is a question my Creative Writing teacher asked us in class. My first reaction is because I enjoy writing. Why do I enjoy it? This question makes me think. I enjoy writing because it is an easy and natural way for me to express my thoughts. My mind is filled with characters and story lines that I would like to put into words. Writing them down ensures that I won't forget them and that allows me to make space in my mind for more things.

Writing also allows me to go places and imagine situations that I may never experience. My characters can be whoever I want them to be. But each one of them has a piece of me. My characters and my words are mine, something that no one can take away. Maybe that is the basis for writing, and creating in general. Whatever we create, whether words or a physical thing, it is from our minds and we will always be able to say that we made something unique.

Keeping my writings in files on my computer, or even sharing them with class is one thing. But putting them down in a public setting for the world to see is an entirely new aspect. For the author it can feel exciting, vulnerable, scary, relieving and many other emotions. For me it is an opportunity for others to read my work, to know that someone is taking an interest in something that comes from me. Acknowledgement as a writer.

I'm starting this blog for class. In the past year I have come so far in my understanding as a writer. I now know that I have a gift for putting my thoughts into words and beyond this semester I will continue to write, for myself and, hopefully, to one day be published and be able to share my imagination to a larger audience.