Chapter One: Overheard

Everyday for five days a week, I always wake up at six o’clock in the morning, pull myself out of bed, fit into my school uniform that remains blandly black and white, and head into the kitchen to start breakfast.

This morning, my head throbs in a dull manner, but still hurts.

Mom and Dad won’t be up for about 30 more minutes, so I prepare them a big enough stack of pancakes for them to share, leave the plates on the dinner table and places the bottle of syrup in the middle.

For an odd reason, when I always pass the bathroom, I go in and look at myself in the mirror. Despite needing to brush my thick brown hair back and brushing my teeth furiously, I don’t know what I do. My eyes are dark pits of brown. Almost like mud, but Mom says otherwise.

I sigh at myself, here I am, giving myself the attention that I don’t want nor need. Tightening my lips, I turn the light off and shut the door.

I zip up my boots (one of the things I’m allowed to wear freely at school), pull my leather school bag over my shoulder and hope that I have everything that I need and close the front door tightly.

The air is cold and the fog is down low today. Dew drops sit on blades of grass in the front lawn. “Warmth, just one day of warmth and I’ll be fine.” My hands clench into fist, because I don’t want to look like a pansy out in public about the usual weather that I haven’t gotten used to yet.

I live in the slit between Downtown and the uglier side of the Suburbs, where Demetrius lives. I’m not in the richer part of the City, but I have better living conditions than many. I don’t like to say it like that, but it’s the cold hard truth. A few buses roll by, packed with kids of all ages that are headed to School. Some will look out of the window and meet my eyes, then look forward.

There are some adults that jump into their car then run back out because they forgot something in their house; the occasional dog in the backyard will jump up from behind a gate and bark at me.

The usual waiting spot is just next to the usually filled garbage cans that are hidden on the right side of his home. There’s the acrid smell that comes for the bags of garbage. I wonder if anyone’s taken it out in a while. Yesterday was Thursday, which means garbage day.

I breath through my mouth and rest against the cold brick.

He lives a few blocks away from my home, in the more rural side of the City. His home is brown, large, but short and stout. The ceiling is just seven feet high. I’m becoming close to reaching their roof.

I stand five foot seven and consider myself taller than most girls my age. But with Demetrius lurking over me, I feel too petite. I can’t say that it makes me feel comfortable when he’s taller, but when I stand in a crowd of people, I know where I belong in the group.

I hear the door hinges squeak three times, youngest comes out first, then younger, then oldest. Demetrius. Before their mother closes the door, she says “have a nice day at school” then would shut it close and tight. She’s not very trustful of her neighbors, who I assume are crack heads and druggies based on how full their garbage cans are compared to their own, which just brims past the top. I’m wholeheartedly with her on never being too safe.

I peek over around the corner and see him standing there on the sidewalk, wearing the almost same exact thing as I am. Except that he wears a black  dress shirt instead of white (apparently the school allowed it.) He looks around almost like he’s lost. But I know he’s waiting for me. His kid siblings, Louise and Jonathan seem giddy as always, skipping around on the sidewalk.

I can’t tell what to say: a joke or an actual greeting. “Good morning,” I say, the sunlight reveals my face. This is one of the days where I sound too cheery. One of the days where I feel like school will be much too outstanding, and the food will for at once be decent.

It’s the fact that it never is which usually kills my mood.

He looks over at me with sweet, crystal blue eyes. “Surprise, surprise,” he says flatly. Even though they are vibrant and resplendent eyes, they belong to a person who has a rather dark personality.

His dark brown hair is pulled back today. There’s a shine that makes it look he just cleaned it and has been gelled, but I know it’s not. Just one of his secrets. It’ll become more natural throughout the day. I can’t consider it fluffed or soft, but it’s rather voluminous, and flows with the motions of the back of his head. Usually, he’ll keep it down. Today’s one of those days where he actually gives himself a good look in the mirror.

“Someone seems a little too perky.” He smiles. He doesn’t do it often, but usually when he does, it’s only directed to me. It’s never one that is big and round, just a thin line that rises at the corners. This is him; usually emotionless.

“So, did your head hit the ceiling this morning?” I ask, meeting his side. When I mention him being tall, I’m not kidding.

Six feet. I’d like to say that he’s the only guy in our school who doesn’t pass my own height, and it hurts my neck to talk to him. I’m waiting for a growth spurt of for him to shrink down a few inches.

He sighs and chuckles at once, “No, not yet. Did you walk into your door frame yet?” Jonathan and Louise run around in the front of us.“Both of you, be careful,” he yells to them.

I groan at him.

They both turn to look at him, beginning to say “okay,” but notice me. “Seline!” They both jump at me and hug me from around the hips.

I bat my eyes a few times at them, “Good morning, you two.”

“Seline, if you always come over in the morning, you should just stay over forever! I’m sure Mommy will let you stay,” Jonathan says with a toothy smile.

“You can stay with me in my room,” Louise suggests.

“No, she should stay we me and Demetrius.” I do my to not point out the grammatical error, but they’re only just kids.

“What about my family?” I ask.

They both go quiet. “They... can stay with us too!”

“Let’s get going before we’re late.” Demetrius pushes them off of me and keeps us going.

It’s a fact that I don’t really like kids, but there’s something special about these two that makes me enjoy their company. I look forward to see them looking happier than ever. They both have blonde hair that shimmers and blue eyes that are like an ocean blue. They could be like Hansel and Gretel.

“So, why so perky?” He wonders.

“I guess I wouldn’t say perky, just a bit... ‘preoccupied.’” I look up at him. He know’s right away what I mean.

“That’s why it was so quiet last night. I kind of enjoyed it, you know, sat there and read a book,” he says, as he looks forward.

I reposition the leather bag strapped across my shoulder. Everyone at School own’s the same thing. It’s amazing how much these things can hold, despite how small they are. “Is it the book I lent you?”

He nods his head, “Yeah. I don’t really see what you like about it.” I stare up at him, because I don’t like it when people disagree with me.

“What do you mean? I don’t think you’ve been to the ocean before,” I murmur off. Who knows how far the ocean is from here. I’ve heard that there’s one City that lives off of a coast.

“Just... not my type of book.”

My shoulders slouch downwards. “I enjoyed it.”

For a moment we remain quiet. Something that I don’t like. There’s a hatred between me and silence, I can’t stand it because I’ll start thinking of strange things and I may possibly start talking aloud.

When I was younger, my parents walked in on me muttering to myself. At first, they thought I had an imaginary friend, which wasn’t the  case because I said so. By then, they took me to a doctor and he said that I have schizophrenia. Which I don’t, but I’m told otherwise.

It’s not like it’s really going to affect the rest of my life. So I’ve put up with it and ended all argumentation about it.

To begin with, I should have just stated that it really was an imaginary friend of some sorts so that I wouldn’t have to deal with it pointlessly for months.

“Seline,” Demetrius breaks the silence, I have difficulty doing it myself. “There’s something that I think we should talk about. I’m not sure if it’s such a big deal, but...”

I look up at him.

“Well, there’s the,” his eyes stare forwards. “Louise! Jonathan!”

I jump a foot in the air as he yells. My heart pulsates against my chest as I see what he’s yelling at them for.

It’s a good long second for me to fully grasp what’s going on.

Louise and Jonathan begin to prance into the street, giggling over something. The stoplights around us say go and there isn’t really a car in sight.

Her rubber sole latches onto a common pothole and she falls over onto the rough asphalt. Cries escape from her mouth. Jonathan looks down at her, shock on his face, and tries to pull her up, but she doesn’t cooperate.

Down the road, straight at them, a semi-truck groans loudly as thick smoke comes out from the exhaust pipe. From where I stand, I can see the truck driver staring down at something that’s either in the passenger seat or in his hand.

My hand holds out to the both of them, I can’t tell what’s going to be better. Get mentally hit by a truck or physically hit by one. But if I just sit here, I’m going to get two kids killed.

“Wai-” but my brain refuses to let me speak. A tight pull comes from my head, like someone’s yanking at my hair and is pinching my brain. I wince, almost yelp, then open my eyes.

I have to react.

Demetrius is starting after him, but I’m faster than him. Proven.

I run up to the middle of the road. “Jonathan, go,” I swat him away. He obeys.

I kneel down to her. “Louise, we have to get up.” I say frantically, eyeing her and then the truck. He doesn’t realize that we’re here.

“But, it hurts,” she wails. I look down and I see that her entire right leg is skinned. Nothing too serious.

“I know it does,” I murmur to her. I try to pull her up from underneath the arms, but for me, it’s difficult because I don’t have any upper muscular strength. But that can’t be helped, I failed that part of Physical Education anyways.

The horn from the truck comes in, bothering me and making me go mad. Almost like it’s telling me how much time I have left. A stopwatch, just counting by how much time I have left until I get crushed.

I look over at the incoming truck, and do my best to pull Louise up.

“Seline!” Demetrius calls to me from behind. When Louise finally chooses to cooperate and not be dead weight, I pull her up and she wraps around me.

I almost begin to walk back to Demetrius, but the truck’s too close. I twirl on my feet and I stand on the division line between the two lanes. The truck flies past.

Just when I think I have my luck, there’s more incoming traffic, but my feet won’t stop moving and Louises’ momentum keeps me moving. The noise of a car horn goes off, and I’m beginning to panic.

Arms slip underneath mine and steady me. The honking cars roll by and I feel like falling to my knees because this is the first time I’ve been this close with death. My eyes shut tightly. The wind whips past us, making my skirt flutter and twist around my legs.

Louise slouches in my arms and her feet barely graze the asphalt.  

I look up and see that the green lights turn red and a few cars around us begin to slow and stop at the crosswalks.

My heart flutters around in my chest, and I can’t believe it.

I look down. Louise is safe, tears begin to well up in her blue eyes. I sigh, long and heavy. We both turn to look up at Demetrius, who doesn’t look happy with us.

“You guys, are complete idiots.” He looks down directly at Louise, and hisses at her. “Watch. Where. You’re. Going.” He lets go of my waist like I’m nothing but a ball and walks across the street.

Now looking around, there aren’t any cars coming by. I let Louise down.

She looks up at me, then she sniffles, “I’m sorry.” I bend down to her height, my eyes meeting hers.

“It’s alright, darling.” I smile at her.

She wraps her small arms around my neck. I pat her back and coo to her, “It’s alright.”

When Louise and I are done, we walk over to the other side of the road, where Demetrius and Jonathan are waiting.

Demetrius gives me a stern look from the other side of the road, he knows I didn’t go ahead and save them purposely. I honestly wasn’t in the “mood” to, but I really wanted to at the same time. Laziness is still in my system and it was before any of that happened.

For the rest of the time, I look away from him. I’m guilty of not doing the right thing.

Our school is a tall and prominent skyscraper, glass panels are on all sides, and is reinforced by sturdy metal brackets and bases. Sleek and professional, and one of the tallest buildings Downtown. Square and cut lawns fold around it, and some concrete boxes with solid benches hold some yellow and purple flowers. And it’s pretty easy to tell that it’s a School because they have a nice and large sign stating that it’s “Pacem City School.”

The lobby has a “receptionist” or technically a lady for the front office, but I guess there really isn’t a difference. She does her job of taking care of people’s problems when they get lost and such.

This is the  School for the entire City. All the way from pre-school to a doctoral in college. Each grade level gets an additional floor above it for all students and when it’s lunch time, we all head to the rooftop and penthouse, where I fall ill and the food is rather horrible. I don’t get sick because the food’s bad (not that I haven’t left school because I’ve got salmonella) but because of how far we are from the ground. There’s the lack of oxygen when eating outside, so I usually try to stay in the penthouse.

Not that it wouldn’t be fun to go and vomit from the top floor and see who it lands on... But that’s not the point. I was close to doing that, until a School Guardian directed me towards a garbage can.

Another thing is, each grade level get’s their own grouping of elevators, or stairs if you really want them.  

At the lobby, both Demetrius and I look down at the sniffling kids. There’s only a little bit of pity. “Alright, behave yourselves, don’t do anything stupid, and try to enjoy the food.” Demetrius tells them. They both give him a hug and a smile, and he returns it with his flat one. Before they get into a crowded elevator they turn and wave goodbye to both of us.

I shake my hand softly, then look up at Demetrius, who doesn’t look comfortable. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he whispers to me while still waving his hand at them.

I peek over at him suspiciously. He doesn’t just always whisper. I try to ignore it, after all, it’s not the first time I’ve seen him act strange. But then again... Something’s probably on his mind, so he’ll try to keep to himself, like I do.

Before meeting him, I lacked the social skills I needed, but even afterwards, were still rather quiet about things. Pesky topics are something that are difficult for us, so we usually go one about boring little things that no one’s interested in.

I’ll be honest, I seem boring already. I wonder how others see us; loners, geeks, possibly those anti-hero types of people? Who knows. It’s not like we really have that many people that we hang out with besides ourselves. There have been rumors that we’ve gone out before, which isn’t the case, or that we’re siblings, also, not the case.

Our elevator is at the north wing of the school, which is a bit of a long walk. We stand in front of an elevator, watching as the ticker above the way starts falling down in numbers. Today’s one of those slow days.

“You seem grouchy today.” I state.

“Why does it seem like that?” He crosses his arms like he’s suddenly in a defensive state.

“You hissed at your younger sister this morning, you have bags under your eyes, and you seem kind of pissed.” I hear a tapping noise and look down, his black shoe taps on the linoleum a little too quickly. “Oh, and you seem a bit anxious for something.”

He huffs at me, “Well, I’m not.” I want to smack him up top the head for sounding rude, but I keep my hand down.

“Hey, Demetrius!” I hear the voice that I never like.

Both of us turn our heads.

Alexandr D'Alfonso, can’t really say I like him. But I can say that he makes fun of my height, saying that he’s only just an inch smaller than I am. His hair is a light brown and is only starting to curl. Almost always do I see a toothy smile on his face.

“Alex,” Demetrius says openly to him, like his pesky attitude suddenly faded into thin air.

I have to be nice to Alex, because he’s Demetrius’ friend. Any attitude to anyone means something is funny with me, because I’m usually quiet and when I do snap at someone, it’s usually a bit harsh.

They both clap hands with one another. “Hey ‘Tall Fry,” he looks me in the eye.

“Short Fry,” I give him a fake smile. Is it bad that I have to deal with him in class as well?

“Did anyone of you do the homework that was in Algebra 3?” There’s also another thing I don’t like about him, he’s a slacker.

I don’t like them that much, because in the end, before class starts, they’ll always whisper over my shoulder and ask if I did the homework from the day before. I’d reply yes, and then turn my back to them. They would ask if they could use it, and I would think in my mind, “Why don’t you get off your dead a*s and do it the night it was assigned? Too busy doing something important?”

But I keep it all in my head, I’m too nice to be rude. I’m considered pretty among students, so I might as well try to keep a pretty personality and attitude along with it. Or at least, Demetrius tells me that I should. He’s also the one that stated that I’m pretty.

He’s only my friend however, so he’ll do what he has to to keep my happy. Especially at certain times.

“Sure,” Demetrius turns around and pulls his side bag out in front of him, and begins to flip through all of his organized papers. For some odd reason, I’m too nosy. I watch him search. “When we get in the elevator, put your head down,” he mutters almost bitterly, so that only I can hear.

“Why?” I bit back.

“Just do it,” he says.

I raise a brow at him. I guess we’re both off today.

The homework makes a crisp noise when he pulls it out and hands it to him. Along with it, he pulls out a piece of gum. He hands it to me and I refuse, then to Alex who takes one. “You should stay down here and get it done before you enter class.”

“You're right.” He places his hand on Demetrius shoulder, “Thanks bud.” He folds open the gum wrapper and throws it in his mouth. The elevator opens up to us and begs us to enter. Directly in front of me is a large window for me to look out to see the city and neighboring skyscrapers. Both of my parents work in them, but in which one’s I’m not sure.

It’s a concrete and glass jungle.

“See you later,” Demetrius tells him. Right as the two of us walk in and turn around, a group of students in our grade run at us, yelling for us to hold the door. I look down at the watch on my wrist; five minutes until class begins. It takes a good few minutes to reach our level. Which is about twenty plus stories up.

Demetrius slides past me, and vigorously pushes down the ‘close doors’ button. I watch blankly as the students run at us, hands in the air to grab our attention. They already caught it the moment they all began to run in a rhythmic motion.

One at the head of the herd is close, a good few yards. “Hold up!” He runs quickly. The silvery doors close and a loud thud comes from behind them.

I flinch a little, hoping that he would actually have his brakes ready to stop instead of slamming right into the doors. Demetrius slides over to the wall, and taps the handrail for me to come next to him. I do as he asks, leaving my head down like he asked me to.

“Didn’t think you’d be that rude.” I say to him. I’m not surprised that he’s still acting like this. I want to say he’s bipolar, but something about him tells me otherwise.

“You want to sit in an elevator full of idiots texting?” He asks, still quiet.

“Got a point.”

Texting is a thing that bothers me beyond any compare. All the furious tapping on a screen or keyboard. Some even text to the person beside them, like suddenly, they couldn’t talk. Mine’s only for emergencies and occasionally, when the dead heat floods my house, I’ll text him one thing. It’s hot.

And his usual reply: I know.

That’s pretty much it.

Continuously, I’d give him glances as he sits in the corner, his eyes locked onto the ticker above the door, watching the number rise. His eyes  squint more and more as it went higher and higher. I look up at it, wonder if maybe there’s a bug just sitting there or if there’s a dead pixel or light that just happens to be bothering him. I can’t see anything that would be an irritation.

“Tonight, are you going to the Presidential Ceremony?” He asks, killing my train of thought.

I stare at him a bit surprised, because he knows that my parents don’t like to take me out so late at night. It would be a surprise for them to do it now. “Um, no,” I stammer.

“The usual huh?”

“Well forgive me for having parents that worry a little too much over a teenager.” I face forwards, and see the ground below me get smaller.

“Last night,” he begins, “was it phasing in and out?”

I stop and think, last night was one of the nights where I was up all night thinking to myself with the TV on. I can’t recall what exactly was thinking of, but I do recall a phasing feeling in my head.

“Yes.”

“Hm…” He turns his head around, and I can see from his expression there is something that he shouldn’t be looking at. “Don’t look behind you.”

I’m stubborn, and my head forces itself on its own. “What is…” Behind us, in the next grade above us, there’s a couple in an elevator, going the same speed as our car.

Both of them are yelling at one another, and before I know it, one of them whips the back of their hand at the other. The boyfriend on the girlfriend. Today’s one of those days.

My head pinches and it feels like it’s contorting into strange shapes. “Ah,” I fall to my knees, trying to keep quiet about the pain that’s in my head.

“D****t,” Demetrius mutters and suddenly the car screeches to a stop.

My hands clamp to the sides of my head, like I’m pushing the pain back. But it’s not working.

Nothing’s working to keep myself from wanting to scream. From wanting me to cry and shove myself against the hard window panel’s the block us in. I’m starting to become claustrophobic in the head, when I know I’m really not.

My hearts thumping, and the search for air suddenly becomes difficult.

I close my eyes, trying to eliminate the world around me. A hand wraps over my shoulder. “Don’t panic,” he tells me.

“It hurts!” I shriek. I bite down on my bottom lip, my tongue, but it’s tempting me to cry even more.

A warm and minty breath tickles my ear. “Relax,” Demetrius orders me.

This hasn’t happened in such a long while, that I forgot what the pain really feels like if I let things happen. I try to think of other things, normal things, things that can make me feel sane.

Breath, breath, I tell myself. But I’m still lacking in oxygen. His hand rubs my back, trying to soothe my nerves.

It takes me a few more minutes until the pain dies down like a fire, I need to douse it with pleasure and nice ideas and wonderful things like any little girl would.

But it’s the only thing that can really work.

I take deep breaths as I lean against the window.

Demetrius groans at me, “I told you not to look behind you.”

I look up at him, “Well, you know how stubborn I am. If you didn’t mention it, then probably it wouldn’t happen and we’d be in class by now.”

He looks up at the camera that sits in the corner of the elevator car, its red recording light stares straight at me. But its lenses are covered in some sort of blue sticky concoction.

I point up to it, “What’s that?”

“Gum.”

“Why?” It’s a stupid question that I already know the answer to, but I want his reason.

“You went berserk, so I put that up there so it can’t see what’s going on. So you don’t look like an idiot,” he kneels down next to me and pats my back.

I want to say ‘thank you’ but I also want to say ‘screw you’ as well for calling me an idiot.

I grab the railing and haul myself up and keep quiet. Looking over at the button panel on the right side of the doors, the emergency stop is pushed in. Demetrius pulls it back out and the car clanks then rides back up smoothly, then he raises his arm up a little bit then pulls the gum off of the camera then back into his mouth.

“I think you should go tonight,” he says, acting like nothing happened. “Knowing you, I think you’d like it.”

I swallow. “I lent that book to you, and I thought that you’d like it.”

He looks around, like a bug’s swarming around him. “It seems like it’s been active lately.”

I nod my head, “Yeah, it has.” The Conscience is a strange little thing that pesters the Hell out of Demetrius and me. We’re not sure what it is exactly, but we know that it only reacts to certain situations where there’s something dangerous going on. Like just now, it hurt me because I can’t do anything about it, or at least, I refused to do anything about it.

It’s like punishment for me for misbehaving. Or like a guide to living or a tutorial in a videogame. And this morning, it pinched me a little bit for not reacting too quickly to the situation when Louise feel in the middle of the street. That’s why I tried to keep myself quiet when I felt the pain, so that Demetrius wouldn’t notice it.

So that he wouldn’t see that I’m careless about his family. I’m not that way, but it’ll do that to us. It’s been really close to breaking the relationship between us. It basically has a mind of it’s own.

I try to find something to look at, the red recording light not even blinking at me, but I gaze down at the watch on my left wrist.

The leather band is worn and wrinkled, but  soft and gentle. Two minutes to get to class.

I can feel myself presperate, like I’m sitting in a sauna.

“Seline,” he says to me, in his actual, normal and somewhat flat tone. I stare up at him, his eyes locked on mine.

“Don’t panic.”

Reviews

[carol]

Before I start, let me just say I am amazed that you are only fourteen, you are going become a wonderful writer. I let to review line by line so this may take a while.

(Everyday for five days a week, I always wake up at six o’clock in the morning, fit into my school uniform that consists of a white blouse and a black knee-length skirt, brush my much too thick brown hair out and head straight over to Demetrius’ house and wait patiently just next to the usually filled garbage cans that are hidden on the left side in the shadows.

He lives a few blocks away from my home, in the suburbs. His home is brown, large, but short and stout. The ceiling is just seven feet high, and Demetrius is always waiting for the moment when he gets up and out of bed and find that he made a hole in the roof.

Forever, I shall remain my usual five foot seven.

Not many consider me being short, but I do. But that’s just how it seems every time I look in the mirror. Or when I stand next to Demetrius. Compared to everyone else, who is usually five foot four and is a girl, I’m tall. I’m a bit taller than a good portion of the male student body in our grade. It’s a bit depressing to me.
YOU ARE VERY DISCRIPTIVE IN YOUR WRITING, MOST READING PERFER TO BE SHOWN INSTEAD OF TOLD WHAT IS GOING ON. SOMETIMES LESS IS MORE FOR EXAMPLE.. (I wake up everyday for school at six am, drag myself out of bed, and force myself into my black and white school uniform, and run a comb through my thick brown hair, before leaving to meet Demetrius. I walk the few blocks to his house and wait for him next to the garbage cans that sit beside the garage. Demetrius walks out the door, and I am amazed at how tall is. "Dude if you keep growing you are going to wake up one morning and knock your self out on the ceiling of room" HERE I USED DIAGLOGUE TO SHOW HE WAS TALL INSTEAD OF TELL THE READER HOW TALL HE IS.
(At five foot seven I consider myself taller than most girls my age, but standing next to him I seem so small.) YOU CAN DRAW A PICTURE FOR YOUR READER, WITHOUT BORING THEM WITH TOO MANY DETAILS. OKAY WITH THAT SAID I WANT TO LET YOU KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A GOOD STORY LINE, BUT I THINK YOU ARE GIVING AWAY TOO MUCH OF THE PLOT TOO SOON, SET IT UP A LITTLE MORE, BY USING DIALOGUE TO VOICE Demetrius CONCERNS ABOUT THE CANIDATE. LET THE READER GET TO KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS A LITTLE BETTER, BY SHOWING UP SOME OF THE PERSONALITY, AGAIN THOUGH DIALOGUE. I THINK YOU ARE DOING A GREAT JOB, AND I CAN'T WAIT TO READ YOUR NEXT CHAPTER.

[Forgotten14]

Haha, thank you for reviewing this and thank you for the support that you just suddenly gave me. read moreHaha, thank you for reviewing this and thank you for the support that you just suddenly gave me.
I realized that I was already jumping a little bit too quickly into the plot, but I wasn't sure how exactly I was going to go in a bit more smoothly. But I'll be sure to use the dialog to explain their personalities more. I mean like, I started writing this maybe a week or two ago and I've had this writing splurge that's been so bad that I've been having major headaches just by sitting in front of the screen all day.
But nonetheless, thank you for just reading. It means a lot to mean, and for you just saying that I have potential. And hopefully, when I get more chapters up (which will be in like maybe another day or two **I'll remind you or something**) you'll enjoy them.
P.S. sorry for that long as heck tangent....