prologue: out of ideas.

we meet our main character Thomas Cain who is trying to find ideas for a story before being taken to the isles

      Thomas Cain arrived home from his first lesson of creative writing for the summer break. It had been a long day and the heat from the hot sun had not helped him come up with any ideas. He slumped himself on the sofa and turned on his laptop. Its bright ghostly glair met his eyes.

He sat back and thought to himself the best kind of stories that he could tell.

 

Perhaps a story about life in the military would be a good story to write about, his brother was a captain in the royal army and his family had a long history dating back to the Second World War. He smiled to himself for the idea that had sprung into his head. He took out a note pad and pen and looked for where he should start describing to himself about the plot. The pen almost had a magnetic force on it holding it in place. He tried to write his idea down, but nothing, nothing came to him. All the stories he had been told as a small kid were not their for him.

 

Maybe a cup of tea with sugar would do. He boiled the kettle, poured the water, took the tea bag out and had a drink. After five minutes he came back to his blank screen hoping for a revelation but his mind was as blank as snow in December.

 

Eventually he gave up hunting for ideas, he just didn’t seem to have the heart in  coming up with a story. He thought maybe if he went to sleep he could come up with something on his way to the group tomorrow.

 

Just then he noticed something was wrong with the wall. It appeared to have a burn on it, he wondered if he had done that on a wild night with mates around when the burn started to get bigger and bigger. Next door was on fire he thought to himself. He grabbed the remainder of the tea and flunk it at the wall, nothing happened. The burn didn’t sizzle or smoke but grew. Thomas ran to the door but the lock was jammed when the wall exploded and different butterfly’s came though morphing from wall to insect flying all round the room. They enveloped him while he crouched to the floor covering his head.

 

The butterfly’s diserpated after a while flying away. When tom looked up he saw them going the distance but he wasn’t in his house anymore. He was by a seaside with a great forest towards the north and looking out to sea was nothing but ocean with a clear blue sky.

 

Thomas looked around and said aloud. ‘Bugger...’