The Court

I woke up on the cold hard bed, my back sore and my entire body numb with cold. My fingers stretched out trying to find warmth, a blanket or something to cover me, but all I found was the smooth cold canvas of the bed.

"He's awake!" A voice spoke out, I could tell that it was a man speaking, a man around his thirties. 

''Quick! Somebody help him!'' I heard a girl's voice call out. I turned to see a child aged perhaps ten or eleven years.

I propped myself up on the elbows. A young teenage boy walked to me and told me not to get up, he told me that my wounds are healing and if I move too much, it will not heal, or at least not soon.

He reminded me of my father, how he used to care. When I was 10, I'd get myself into fights because of all the "equal rights" protests I used to make. I got beat up all the time, but I would still fight, it kinda felt like I just don't know when to give up. So, every time father caught me fighting, he'd tell me to stay down. Not because he wanted me to be laughed at for being a chicken, but because he doesn't want to see me hurt. But all that is history, Father is not the person he was anymore, not after the painting. 

I scanned my surroundings, trying to find something that would tell me, "where am I?"

It was a room, a large white room. And I could tell that it belonged to an elite, an elite richer or even more important that father. The room was decorated with paintings and statues of Greek warriors that we learned in history class. Odysseus, Theseus, Hercules and so much more. The floorings are some of the finest and the details carved on the marble walls are beyond that of my house. Where am I? 

"Welcome to the Court!" Said the young girl, opening her arms, trying to give me a hug. She had an oval shaped face, sitting under her thin eyebrows were her brown eyes, sparked with innocence and happiness. I've never seen anyone that naive before, other than Mia. "OH NO, MIA!" She is unlike my sister, but somehow she reminded me of her, maybe it was in her big welcoming smile, or maybe it was her naive personality that sparked the thoughts.  

"I told you "The Court" was a stupid name. Now you scared the hell out of the kid."Said a young teenage boy, looking at the girl. The boy was around my age, maybe older, but not by much. He had a strong rectangular face with a very defined jaw line, thick eyebrows and a pair of cold hazel eyes. Clothed very oddly though, despite the young, handsome face. In fact, everyone was clothed weirdly. The boy wore a baggy black and hazel striped button-through shirt, long sleeves, but were folded upwards to his elbows. It was funny how their clothes looked like the ones in the museum, the one worn by the Outcasts, or the Outcasters as we like to call them. Then I realized that they are the outcasts, the group of people neglected by society, the people who "out-grown" society as a whole. Years ago, as we learned it in our history classes every Monday morning, the Outcasters were actually a bunch a people who predicted the fall of the government, they are the people who started the protests and they are the people that suggested a new system of government to be implied, in which the people gets to agree or disagree with the laws that congress or rather the cooperations wanted to be implied. The new system was never implied, though, and indeed the government has fallen. A new president came to rise in power and the Outcasters were banned and killed, a small group survived, though, and they were driven to the wild. The government never bothered them ever since, as they were hoping that the Outcasters will either die of natural causes or die from the wilderness rather than die from their bloody hands.

"But it sounds cool." The young girl said.

"Where am I? And where is Mia?" I asked, I tried not to look scared, but failed miserably.

"We found you in the ruins, alone. No Mia, no nothing." Said the young boy.

"Yeah, only you alone." The girl repeated.

"Children, haven't we forgotten to introduce ourselves?" He said, "You're rushing this poor lad's induction."

"Oh! My name is Iris, nice to meet you!" Said the young girl. She stretched her hand out, trying to give me a handshake. 

"And my name is Noah. And the old folk is Joseph." 

"What is your name? Kid." Joseph asked.

"M... My name is..." I hesitated for a while, "Alex, Alex North."

"Well, then. Alex North, welcome to the pack." Said Noah.

"You mean the Court?" A familiar voice  spoke out. I turned around and saw...  

 

Author's Note

Tell me what you think. I tried as much as possible to explain things in details and I spent quite a bit of time cleaning things up. Tell me your opinions of the story so far and I will try to upload the next very soon.

Reviews

[Xavier Lee]

Well you blatantly stole my suggestions. But that's flattering, so I won't fault it. An while those lines are better now, they were only a couple of examples, not the only parts that needed work. The rest of my reaction can be found in my other review, so I won't repeat it here.

[keeanaaaa]

Yay! This piece had a lot of description in it. It really helped me to set the scene and imagine what Alex was seeing. Still same errors as previously stated but a great improvement!

[Xavier Lee]

I like your writing, I really do. But your grammar usage could still use a lot of work. I.e "girl was a very young girl." You could've said "the girl was very young." Or better yet, "'Quick! Somebody help him!' I heard a girl's voice call out. I turned to see a child aged perhaps ten or eleven years." Things like that. But I like your characters. Your dialog could also use a bit of work. For example: "Guys, guys, you haven't introduced your names right? I think you are kinda rushing this." This guy is a thirty-something, right? Why then is his language so immature? I'm assuming he's some kind of leader, or at the least a parental figure. So perhaps changing the line to suit him. "Children, haven't we forgotten to introduce ourselves?" He says, "You're rushing this poor lad's induction." Something along those lines would have worked better for this man. Other than that, interesting story and I look forward to more.

[David Ung]

Thank you for the review. I will try to change those parts up.

[Nonnye]

The characters are all strong. The story is intriguing and I and want to know what happens next. The dialogue remains strong. A good deal of Alex's narrative dialogue does not feel right. For example: in the previous chapter (i read that with this one) he makes a point to explaining he has to help his sister despite the way he feels about her; your audience knows the siblings don't care for each other within the context of normal sibling behavior. So it does not seem odd that he wants to try to help her and you don't have to explain his feelings regarding this. The first sentence of this chapter started strong: but "a blanket or something, anything to cover me,. . . ." I recommend you get rid of "anything"
You have painted a picture and pull the reader into the experience, don't over do it. "....the smooth but cold canvas of the bed." try reading this sentence without the "but." It is stronger. There are some issues that stop the flow of the story: ".... a man around his thirties." how could Alex tell the man was around thirty from the sound of his voice or did he see him and now knows? Then the story goes from a girl yelling for help to a teenage boy, to someone reminding Alex of his father. Or did the teen remind Alex of his father? This needs to be smoothed out a bit. If it is the teen that reminds Alex of his father this does not feel right.
I like the last sentence. Good hook.

[David Ung]

Thank you very much for spending your tome to actually read and review my story. I will try to improve those flaws.