Chapter One: Storms and a Strange GuyA Chapter by TibbyAfter a hail storm that appears out of no where, Stella, (the main character) walks down the street to the store meeting a strange young man.
It was getting hotter every day. We all knew what was happening, but only few of us had tried to stop it. If only there were more people that cared about the world, and about what would happen to us. I was scared. All of us were. Nobody talked about it, although we knew the end was growing nearer and nearer.
I sat on my bed, cross-legged, and flipped through the pages of my Horse Illustrated magazine while listening to the rain pour down onto our tiny little house in Greenville, North Carolina. The soft raindrops finally slowed down to a slight drizzle, and then completely stopped. I could hear my dad closing the door in the basement, and start coming up the stairs as the storm turned into a terrifying hail storm. The loud clang of the wind chimes outside and the wail of the wind against the old house made me wonder if the storm was going to take our house away, and take us with it. It sounded as if we were being attacked by hooligans throwing rocks at our windows. I slid off my bed, and ran into the hallway just as my dad opened the door leading to the basement. He walked into the kitchen and opened the door, while calling for my little brother Steven. Steven was behind me in a flash. We all watched as trees bent down, almost snapping into. It was dark and scary. Large pieces of hail hit the plastic-like door separating us from the outside. My dad closed the door and automatically the lights flickered and the phone rang once.
“Should we go to the basement?” I yelled over the noise. He nodded once and my brother and I ran to our rooms to gather whatever we could find. I grabbed a pillow, my journal and pencil, threw on my coat, and shoved on my shoes. We met at the basement door and started down the steps. My dad turned on the lights and we sat down there for about fifteen minutes. My dad had his cell phone with him and called my mom who was supposed to be coming home from work right now.
“She’s staying at work for awhile until the storm passes” he had said. This was beginning to become a routine. At least once a week there was a terrible storm like this. Sometimes I wondered if the storm would ever stop, if maybe this was how we would all die instead of drowning because of the icebergs melting and the oceans overflowing.
‘Starving is probably a better way of dying than drowning. But wait… drowning is fast, and starving would be long, and torturing.’
I sometimes wanted to hit myself for thinking terrible thoughts like this, but I’m sure everyone thought like this now.
‘Stupid global warming. Why does it have to happen now? Why couldn’t it wait until I died of old age or something?’
I watched Steven play his Nintendo DS, while listening to what was going on outside. Finally the storm seemed to have stopped, except for a few rumbles of thunder in the distance. We headed upstairs, and eventually went outside to see the damage. It wasn’t that bad. Just a few twigs here and there, but I felt the need to clean it up, so I swept out the garage, and the porch. Anastasia, my cat, climbed out from under the porch, and meowed at me. I smiled at her, put down my broom and went inside to get the cat food. I cleaned out her soggy bowel, and poured her the last of her fresh, food. I didn’t feel like sweeping anymore.
“I’m going to run down to the store to buy Anastasia some more cat food.” I told my dad. He considered it for a second, but I knew he was scared that another storm would blow in.
“Only if you buy me another pack of gum.” he grinned.
“Deal!” I said.
“You better be back in twenty minutes or I’m coming out there to look for you!” he yelled as I started running down the street.
People were in there front yards looking around and talking. My crazy neighbor, who nailed fish on the side of his house, was taking the old battered up fish down, to replace it with a new one. I slowed down to a walk when I passed the even-older-than-my-house house. It was ugly, and it looked like no one was even living in it, but there was a rumor that an old man named Cecil was living in it. Everything was quiet now except for the hum of neighbors discussing the storm in the distance. I couldn’t help but stare at it as I walked by. I was taken-aback when I saw a curtain pulled back to reveal a set of dark eyes. I looked away and started to walk faster. I wanted to look back, but I was afraid those eyes would still be watching. I ran the rest of the way to the only food store that we actually go to, The Food Store, (yep that’s how dull our town is.) I pushed the door open to see that the whole store was crowded. People were grabbing stuff off of the shelves and stuffing them into there grocery carts. Two woman on the far right side of the store were shoving each other and fighting over which one gets the canned milk.
‘Okay, this proves it! The world has gone completely mad!’
I ran to the pet aisle and searched for a bag of cat food. All they had was a small bag of The Food Store brand cat food. Anastasia wouldn’t like it but it would have to do. I picked it up and hobbled around trying to find the chewing gum. Juicy Fruit was his favorite. I finally found it. There were two packs left! I hobbled even quicker to it, but a man who was slightly balding grabbed one of the packs and ran off.
‘One pack left. Okay Stella, you can get there fast enough! Do it for your old man!’
I reached out for it. But someone snatched it from my reach. Pissed, and ready to fight for it, I launched into a rude discussion. “What the-!” but stopped when I saw who it was. I first noticed his clothes. He was dressed in a black suit, and black tie, but he looked around my age so he couldn’t be dressing up for the office. His hazel eyes were oddly beautiful under his big bushy black eyebrows. His medium long black hair looked like it had come out of a magazine. He had a stubble of a beard, but it looked like he had shaved it. He was amazingly, outstandingly gorgeous, but that didn’t stop me from being mad that he took the last pack.
“I’m sorry, but it seems there’s only one pack left…. You wouldn’t mind if I took it, do you?” He said in a musical voice that I would never forget. He was trying to charm me, I knew it, and I wasn’t about to let him take it. It was, after all, for my dad.
“Yes, I mind.” I said giving him an attitude, and snatching it from his hands. He was surprised, but I didn’t care. It was a fight for food. (…or gum.) I turned and started walking away, but clumsy me, I dropped the bag of cat food. I bent down to get it but he was already there to get it for me. He smiled, which made me smile. Why do I have to be such a push-over!!??
“I’ll tell you what, how about you give me the pack of gum, and I’ll pay for that bag of cat food.” He said trying to make a deal.
“No it’s for my dad.” I said not giving up.
“Well, this is for my dad too.” He said.
I sighed. “Fine! You win, keep it!” I shoved the pack of gum in his hands and started to walk to the cash registers.
“Wait!” he called after me. “You keep it; I’ll just chew on my on tongue.”
I stared at him, trying to see if he was really going to let me keep it. He looked promising this time.
I looked down at the gum and then looked back at him. We were both holding onto it. He was staring down at me.
I cocked my head to one side, “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Elliott” he whispered. He was still holding onto the pack of gum. Suddenly he looked down at his watch and let go of the gum.
“I got to go, my dad…” he didn’t finish, but ran off towards the exit. I watched him go, and then realized that I had been standing there for awhile staring into space and a few people were starting to stare at me. I kept my head down and walked to the cash register. And then a scream rang out through the store and everything went quiet.
© 2008 TibbyAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on June 30, 2008 Last Updated on June 30, 2008 AuthorTibbyStuck in My Head, NCAboutSome Interesting Facts About Me: 1.) I cant stand guys who start out a conversation like this: "heyyy wanna go out?" when they don't even k.. more..Writing
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