I am writing a book...story..whatever you want to call it.
Not quite sure where on earth it's going yet, but I thought I'd let you guys see the beginning of it.
Chapter One
~Sometime in the present day~
He turned, slightly startled, “Molly?”
I cringe inside. I hate my name, plain and boring, just like me. Well, except for my frizzy blonde hair. Most people would call it naturally curly, but I don’t.
I turn around. I was hoping not to run into anyone on my quick trip around town.
“Bentley?” I try to sound a little more excited than I actually am. But with a start I realize how much he’s grown in the year since I’ve seen him. In place of the scrawny red-headed boy, stands a man, and with auburn hair, no less.
“Molly! It is you. My, you’ve changed.”
He’s right, I know. But I wonder how much of it can really be seen by others.
“Where’ve you been, girl?” He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I instantly stiffen. He’s done it many times in the past. But that was then. This is now.
“Oh, you know, places.” I smile and act as nonchalant as I can. I don’t want to remember anything about the man who took decades off my life, even though it was just a year.
I look for a way of escape, but nothing catches my eye. Main Street is unusually empty for this time of day.
His phone suddenly starts ringing, breaking the silence. He pulls it out of his pocket, as it belts an accordion solo of Beethoven's 5th Symphony.
“I, I have to get this.” He apologizes.
“That’s fine, I have to get going too.” I lie.
I walk off, as quickly as I can, while he starts having an animated conversation with whoever it is.
In my car I hit the console a couple times before starting the engine. I don’t want to bring up the past with anyone, but I know they’ll ask. I toss my purchase on the passenger seat, a gift for my violin; some rosin. Was going for it by myself worth it? I’m not sure.
Back at home, I disappear into the happy person my family thinks I am.
We have supper, and I laugh at all the right times during the dinner conversation.
But after I’ve helped clean the dishes, I am quiet. I turn the tv to BBC. A show I like is on, but I’m not paying attention.
At some point, my mother must have come into the room without me noticing. After the show has finished, she speaks. I jump.
“You should go to bed, honey. You look exhausted.”
She’s right. But I don’t think any amount of sleep will help. But I comply.
I’m in my bed in record time, though I’m not sure why I rushed. Here is the worst part of my day. Just trying to sleep, but not accomplishing anything. I lie in bed, staring up in the ceiling. In the corner is a lonely glow-in-the dark star Bentley gave me years ago. I don’t know why I’ve kept it.
A bright flash awakens me. Or does it? With a panic I realize I’m still dreaming.
“No. Not this again!” I say the light. “I don’t. I, can’t.” No one answers.
Then, just as quickly as the light came, it disappears. I reach out into the blackness, and find I’m boxed in. On all sides. My heart starts racing faster. The walls are slowly getting closer, closer, closer. I scream, and then I fall.
Right back into my bed. I slap my arm, and it stings. Good. I am awake.
I was wrong. The worst part of my day isn’t laying in bed before I go to sleep. It’s the nightmares.
~
When I wake up in the morning, I’m still tired. My mother notices the dark circles under my eyes. She piles a few little jars and tubes in my arms and pushes me back towards the bathroom.
“Here, use these. I bought them for you yesterday.”
I take them, and without even looking at them, I pile them into the middle drawer with all the other makeup products my mom has gotten for me. I don’t know the point, since I never use them, and she knows that. I dislike makeup, and it bothers my face. Nor do I see the point in spending an hour in the bathroom in the morning. I’d rather get going with my day quickly.
My breakfast is just a bowl of cereal; simple, yet filling. I’m slightly excited as I find my purse and violin and pull on my shoes; today is the first day of orchestra practice at the high school.
“See ya later, Mom!” I yell to the house. There’s no reply.
~
I dislike being late, so it rarely happens, but this time I’ve misjudged my arrival. I am exactly 20 minutes early. There are a few other cars in the parking lot, so I decided to check if the door is unlocked. It is.
My footsteps are the only sound as I walk down the eerily quiet hallway. The school has been freshly cleaned, in preparation for the new year. I think about how I’m glad I’ve graduated, finally, though the only memories this building has for me is the orchestra. Homeschooling was such a blessing.
A soft melody wafts from the auditorium. Curiously, I take the back entrance to the stage to listen. A boy, with tousled brown hair and glasses is sitting in the middle of the stage, playing a cello. The music is beautiful, a tune I’ve never heard before. It sends shivers down my spine.
I try to move closer, enchanted by the music, but I trip over the drum set, and land on the pedal for the bass drum.
KA-BUM
The boy stands up, and I quickly attempt to wrangle myself up.
KA-BUM
KA-BUM
Just as he gets over to me, I stand up. We look at each other for a long second, and he holds out his right hand.
“Hello, I’m Henry Mitchells.” My heart skips a beat after hearing his crisp British accent. I take his hand and give it a firm, yet quick shake.
“I’m Molly Andrews. Are you new here?” I ask.
“Uh, yes. I’m visiting here from Yorkshire. My family is friends with Mr. Kingsley, and he suggested that I come here as a foreign exchanged student of sorts."
I nod, then look at the floor. I'm not good at making small talk.
Suddenly, Mr. Kingsley bursts through the door, singing at the top of his lungs, with no sense of propriety.
"TA-RA-RA BOOM DE AY! TA-RA-RA BOOM DE AY!"
Henry turns towards me, a slight smirk on his face. I grin knowingly.
"Aha! What is this?" Mr. Kingsley notices that Henry and I are the only ones here yet. "I was going to introduce you two, but I assume you've already given each other your life stories, so, I won't bother."
I don't say anything.
"Where are all the rest of the students?" Mr. Kingsley exclaims impatiently. "They should certainly be here by now. Young kids these days don't have any sense of manners. Tsk Tsk."
He turns to look at me. "But, Molly, you're excellent at that. I'm quite proud of you!"
I blush, and look at the floor again.
Mr. Kingsley giggles. “You look so alive when you blush, keep it up!”
I continue looking at the floor, wishing I could sink into it, as I feel my face burning.
Suddenly, the auditorium doors burst open, and a small stream of kids come in.
Marie Henley, the most popular girl in school, was followed by a small group of teenage boys who must have only joined orchestra to be with her, because they had barely any talent whatsoever.
Marie, however, had talent, lots of it. She played the flute, and had since she was a freshmen. She tossed her thick, creamy brown hair over her shoulder, and flashed a white smile at her hoard of boys. “Now, I need to practice, sweets. For goodness sake, please don’t watch me while I do so!”
I roll my eyes. Of course she wants them to be watching her, when wouldn’t she?
The boys pretend to look away and concentrate on their own instruments while she pulls out her flute, but they can’t keep their eyes off her. I look away, not really caring. Who would want that many people having eyes on you all the time? I’m glad it’d never be the case for me.
After people have time to warm up a bit, Mr. Kingsley taps on his music stand with his baton, to start the practice.
An hour later, practice is over. As I’m packing up my violin, Henry comes over to me.
“Hey, I was wondering, I mean, that is.” He stumbles over his words, and I blush, knowingly. He takes a deep breath, “There’s a new Steak ‘n’ Shake in town, would you like to go get a shake with me?”
I look up, and suddenly, it isn’t Henry anymore, it’s HIM. I shudder, as a horrified look comes over my face. I open up my mouth to scream.
“Molly?” Henry says, concerned. I blink, and once again, Henry is the one looking at me.
I nod, and try to say something, anything, to get away from this awkard moment. Nothing comes out, and I sit there with my mouth gaping open, looking like a fish.
I grab my halfway packed up violin and run out of the room, tears starting to stream down my cheeks.
No. Not ever. I can never make that mistake again. HE was all nice and smiles at first, but look at what he turned into.
Tears blinding me, I struggle to get into my car. I wipe my eyes as best I can, and glance back at the school. Good. I wasn’t followed. I try to get my breathing back to normal as I finish packing up my violin. Great. I must have dropped my new rosin on the mad dash out the door.
I sigh, thinking through my options. Maybe I can get some more, and this time, I’ll refuse to talk to anyone I run into.
And I'm not quite sure if I should switch between people talking in one chapter..or change chapters to do that..or maybe 1 is too long? What do you guys think?
