Chapter One

Chapter One

A Chapter by MeganAlyssa
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Beginning of the story, and introduction to it all.

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“See you Monday,” Kara called as I got off the bus. Yes, she would see me Monday, but she wouldn’t see the same person. Little did I know that by Monday I would be changed almost entirely.
Okay, let me back up. That may seem a little drastic. But, to be honest, there was a whole lot that it had to change. I was a simple person. I was simple, normal, if a bit distant from the rest of the world.
I leisurely strolled into my house. Well, not technically my house. A temporary house. My grandparents home. It was a nice house, but didn’t feel like home. My brother and I are just staying here until my parents get a little bit more time to take care of us and we can go back to them. Fortunately, the grandparents have an extremely nice home (apparently they partnered in a lumbering business - sold it for millions).
Anyway, I’m happy with life and all, but I worried about my brother. Antonio, who was only nine at the time, had almost zero memory of his absentee parents. That scared me, because I at least know who my parents are. He may not.
Walking into the living room, I saw Antonio staring down at a book with his face scrunched up.

He looked up at me from the couch and asked, “What’s animistic mean? According to the dictionary, it’s the attribution of a soul to plants, inanimate objects, and supernatural entities controlling the material world. And I have no clue what that means.”

What book was he reading? The first time I had heard that word was in the book I had read the night before.

As if my thoughts were audible, he responded,” I went into your room and found this book. My teachers big on getting us to read, so I wanted to try this.”
The book he was talking about was about the history of science. “Animistic” was used to describe that some people in early centuries thought non-living items had souls. Like to a pencil having a soul similar to us. They thought non-living items where animistic.They believed in animism.
“Antonio, give me my book back,” I liked to keep my interest in science on the down-low. People don’t usually hold back on calling someone a “geek,” and, well, I don’t like to be called a geek.
“It’s Tony, not Antonio,” Antonio growled. For whatever reason, he hated his name, and wouldn’t accept being called anything but Tony. He always hated first days of school, because teachers would always call him Antonio at the start. Last year, the teacher had a pet peeve for nick-names and refused to call him anything except his real birth name. After lots of screaming, scratching, and flipping a desk, Antonio was sent home for the day. He was allowed into school the next day, and as he walked into his class, his teacher greeted him, “Hello, Tony.”
“If they parents wanted you to be called Tony, that’s what they would’ve named you.” Antonio tolerated my calling him by his name, since he’s been around me so long. I don’t get why he doesn’t like his name; Antonio is actually my fourth favorite male name (behind Adrian, Damon, and Isaac - not necessarily in that order).
“Whatever,” he mumbled, and handed over my book.
I gave an-attempted-but-failed sincere thanks and trotted upstairs to put my book back, but in a more secretive location this time.
I remembered Katie’s invitation for a sleepover tonight and trotted around the house to ask Grandma if I could go. She was no where to be found. Neither was my grandfather.
I sighed as I went downstairs.
“Hey, do you know where-” I was interrupted not by Antonio’s, but by his hand which was pointed toward the coffee table. On it was a note, with a brief eight letters on it.

“Be back soon.

Have a good night!”



I guess they were too busy to sign their names. But it was my grandmothers unmistakable green handwriting in her trademark purple pen (my grandfathers color is green; they refuse to write in anything but it).

Anyway, when it comes to being there to monitor us, our grandparents were about as consistent as our real parents.

“So, chinese for dinner?” my little brother asked, as that was our go-to meal when we’re fending for ourselves. I nodded and kind of sulked through the evening more than I should have. When we were watching a movie, my mind slipped off to another world when BAM - apple. The apple hit my shoulder and fell onto my lap as I looked wildly around. Antonio had a smug look on his face.

“Earth to Ella? You there? When I have to throw my fruit at you to get you to stop  zoning out I know there’s an issue.”

I shrugged it off and continued to watch the movie, which we ended up not even bothering to finish.

Antonio, after much debate, was forced to bed, and before I left his bedroom I remembered for about the thousandth time how much he resembles me. He had the same oval face, caramel hair, and hazel eyes. Our skin was just a shade apart, his being slightly more tan.

In my own room, I stared blankly at the book Antonio had taken before.

I thought back to the animistic items. If items were animated to some level, and some sort of living vibe was in them, then they could move. They just refused to.

Obviously it wasn’t true, but some part of my subconscious whispered,” then maybe telepathy would be true, too. If we could get the items to agree to move, they would.”

I giggled. I told myself I’m ridiculous. But soon I found myself making like Yoda and trying to use the force to move an item.

I stretched my hand out, aiming for a lamp of the dresser. I smiled at the ludicrousy of it all, but couldn’t help feeling entertained.

And suddenly, the lamp shifted. Nothing more than an inch. But it moved.

My eyes went wide and jaw hit the ground. Then I shook my head and decided I must be losing it. I didn’t make the lamp move. I’ve just gone mad.

I flipped the lights off and attempted to make an attempt to sleep.

But it turns out you shouldn’t deny things that are right in front of your eyes. It happens more than we’d like to admit, but you have to try and realize, when you see things, they’re real. And some things just aren’t the “norm.”

So, dear reader, keep that in mind. Because some of the biggest lies may just unbelievably be true.


© 2013 MeganAlyssa


Author's Note

MeganAlyssa
Let me know what you think! I'm a young writer just looking for feedback(:

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Added on January 18, 2013
Last Updated on January 18, 2013
Tags: Ella, power, alone, Antonio, beginning


Author

MeganAlyssa
MeganAlyssa

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About
I'm a young writer working on becoming the best writer I can be. My dream job would be a journalist (in sports, more specifically) and I have a *slight* addiction to writing in my free time. more..

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