Would You Rather: Pirates or Bad Dreams: by Willow

Bonjour!
 Willow is logging back on again! {I'm sorry it took me so long, but I'm still here}
 I'm wondering if you want me to continue my A Pirate's Life for Me series {read the P.S. at the bottom of this post}, or give you a preview of my new story blog's stories, with a story from The Labyrinth series called Bad Dreams? It contains many of the same characters form A Pirate's Life, but in a different setting, and 2 years younger, minus the pirates {pirates eventually come back in The Curse of North, another pirate story in progress}.
 Anyhow, here's a preview of Bad Dreams;



"Hehheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh.... Remember, there can only be two, and..."

 Willow stared dramatically into the distance-well, over near that clock there-and held her gaze steady. Several seconds past.
 "And...?" D asked impatiently. "And what?" She tucked a lock of short dark hair behind an ear impatiently.
 "And...," she shrugged, "That was it." Three pairs of eyes, four grey, two brown, bulged at her.
 "That's it? That ended it?" Darren leaned forward with interest.
 "Sorry, but yeah. That's it."
 Warren fiddled with his fingers while D chewed a nail, and Darren drummed his fingers on the table.
 "So this was only one part, right?" D asked finally.
 "I think so." Willow shrugged. "I dunno."
 "Sooo.... you think that there might be more?" Warren wondered aloud.
 "Maybe."
 "There could be more then. Something significant." D started on the next nail.
 "I suppose."
 "What do you mean, 'you suppose'?"
 "I suppose. I meant what I said." Willow shrugged again.
 "This is important, you know. This could be the end of the world for all we know. It could be anything."
 "Uh huh. Like the end of the world is announced by 'Heheheheheheh, there can only be two, and....'?"
 "Shush up, Darren!" D narrowed her eyes at him.
 "Guys, don't fight." Willow sighed. This was why she didn't bring her dreams up a lot.
 "Willow's right, we're not gonna get anywhere with fighting." Warren interrupted.
 "Oh, so now you're just mister peace and love now, aren't you?" D folded her arms.
 "Guys." Willow held up a hand. "Please. Stop fighting. And you wonder why I don't tell you guys about my dreams as much as you'd like."
 All six eyes blinked at her. "You've had other dreams and not told us?" Warren broke the silence.
  "Maybe. Maybe not." Willow folded her arms. "So... what's everybody doing today?"
 

*******Much later, but a climax********

Willow said nothing but ran as fast as she could. If she didn't make it, he would fall.
 She tried to stop, but couldn't. As Willow slid down the ragged cliff, she grasped at a root sticking out from the rocks.
 "Help!" A weak voice croaked beneath her. Glancing down, she saw him hanging by one arm. His other arm reached up, trying to claw out another handhold.
 "I'm slipping..." His eyes were frantic.
 Willow threw her arm down and caught his wrist, just as he lost his grip. She breathed a sigh of relief.
 "I can't hold on much longer." She clung tighter.
  Her grasp slipped a bit, and his fingers intertwined with her's, as she held on tightly to their lifeline - well, liferoot.
 Then, they were no longer hanging from a root on *Quarzite.

 

Dun dun dun!

 

*Quarzite: Planet in Star Wars, featured in the Clone Wars Episode called Bounty.

 

 

P.S. I cross my heart that I will finish Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate. I have not quite come up with the ending, so it may be a little while.

The labels can be kinda interesting.....

I know I haven't written anything in like foooooorrrrrrreeeeeeevvvvvvveeeeeeerrrrrrr on here, and this is even my own blog!!!! So I thought I should post something today. :) Something extra special...... ;)

Signed,

OK, little warning--I made this a longgggggggggg time ago, so it might seem a little bit more little kiddish. Hope you guys enjoy!!!! :)

Chapter I

The Strange Box

Allegra Anderson. Allegra. What kind of name was Allegra? I mean, it’s nice and all but nobody else has the name Allegra. I mean, in my expensive school we have two Hannah’s in our class, and two Sarah’s, and I think we had three James, and the list went on and on. But nobody else had the name Allegra. Anyway, I was 12 and life wasn’t getting better.

  I sighed and looked at my history textbook. I lived in England, and it was during World War II.  This was a country school, so nobody worried about it being bombed.

  I had to stay here at the boarding school in the girls dorms.  I didn’t leave like the other children either on holiday. I only left when it was the summer break.

  Then, I stayed at a country cottage with my Uncle and Aunt. I led a kind of boring life.

 “Allegra!” my head jerked up, sending my straight, blonde hair flying.

“Yes, ma’am?” I asked, as the history teacher came sailing in, her brown curls bouncing.

  “May I see your history report? The principal confirms you have not handed it in yet.”

  I looked at her. Then I remembered how Alan had been smirking at me. He had probably stolen it and stuffed it in some garbage can.

  “Well, I turned it in. It must have been taken or something.”

“Or maybe,” piped up Alan, “she threw it into the trash can!”

He burst out laughing.

  The teacher came over to his desk. “And would you happen to know what trash can that may be, Mr. Noodletire?”

  He kept laughing, and fell into the trap. “Why don’t you try the cafeteria one!”

 Then, realizing he had given himself away, clamped a hand over his mouth.

  Ms. Trapass (the teacher) nodded with satisfaction. “How would you like the job of digging through the trash can?”

  He looked down.

“I expect it out before lunch. Now, as I was saying…”

And so began a long day of history.

Later that day, I was walking one the grounds, getting my daily exercise with the other children.

  Alan sulked with his buddies, but thankfully didn’t pay me any attention. Lila, one of the girls, walked over and started playing with him in a way you knew she was flirting.

  Disgusting.

I started doing knee-ups across the front lawn, and started wishing we didn’t always have to wear skirts. Oh, the freedom of pants!

  Not that I had ever put a pair on, but I imagined.

    Lucky boys.

Very lucky boys.

That evening, as I was about to go to my dorm, the doorbell rang. A moment later, one of the teachers came my way.

  “Hello, Allegra, this is for you. It was on the step, no sign of the sender.”

I took it. It was a huge box, and I wasn’t sure what was inside.

  “Thank you,” I said, and retreated to the safety of my dorm.

When I was inside, I opened it. It was full of books. Just what a twelve-year-old who has an enough books already needs.

  They looked like pictures books, with stories from different time periods. Then I noticed something else—a letter.

  I opened it, and it read:

Dear Allegra,

You might not think this is very important, but this box of books may save your life. Please guard them well.  Inside, you will find stories from all different time periods, including World War I. Guard well, and enjoy. These books hold more then you think.

Your Protector

Okay. Weird. Who on earth would send a school kid a bunch of books? And what did it mean by protector? Was this my guardian or something? Did Alan send this as a trick, just to be spiteful?

  I wasn’t sure, but sure was going to found out. Soon.

Chapter II

Sean and the Dragon

The next day, I sat in the library.

 “Hey Allegra, what are you doing?” called my friend, Jennifer.

I turned around. Jennifer’s long, brown, beautiful hair was, as usual, perfect. Not like mine.

  “I’m looking for a book on the civil war of the United States. We have to learn about it in our class. I think it was over slave rights. I wish they didn’t even have to have a war.”

  Jennifer nodded. “I know what you mean. Hey, I was wondering, Lila said you got a box of books. I was just kind of curious. What are they about?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Do you want to come and look at them with me? My next period still isn’t for an hour. We got out early.”

  “I can see that,” commented Jennifer.

We then hurried out of the library, up the several flights of steps to the girl’s dorms.

  I opened my door, and took the box out from under the bed.

“Wow,” said Jennifer, “that’s a big box of books.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking that myself.”

Jennifer got down on the floor with me, and we stared at it.

  “So,” said Jennifer, breaking the silence, “which are you going to read first?”

  I started going through the books. There were dozens, but I saw one that really made me look again.

  It was covered with dragons, and a picture of a knight and maiden covered the front.

 “Do you think I should read this one?” I asked, pulling it out.

Her eyes went big. “Definitely.”

  “Come on, lets go out onto the grounds. I’m glad the next period is P.E.!”

Jennifer nodded, and we headed outside.

A few minutes later, we were outside. I just started to read the book. So far, it was about how a boy became a knight.

 “Uh oh,” said Jennifer. “Here comes Alan!”

I looked up, and sure enough, Alan and his bunch of buddies were coming toward us.

  “Hi,” I said cheerfully, “what do you all want?”

“To get back at you for yesterday!” growled Alan.

“Run!” cried Jennifer.

    The mad chase led us through the courtyard, around the hothouse, and into the garden.

  While I close the gate, I dropped my book. It flipped open to show a picture of the knight about to get eaten by a dragon! In the back round, were two maidens, and a pageboy.

 “Jennifer!” I yelled.

She came back.

Then several things happened at once—Alan opened the gate, Jennifer came running back, I got pushed to the ground.

  But instead of the gardens, when I got up I saw the scene of the picture. Alan and Jennifer were staring wide eyed in horror at what lay in front of them. A dragon!

   I got up (tripping over some long skirts that happened to be on me, but I didn’t really notice), grabbed a fallen sword, rushed up behind the dragon and stabbed it.

  It roared in pain, and turned toward me. I acted as though I did this everyday, and quickly rushed and stabbed it in the heart.

  I stopped, just realizing I had killed a living creature.

It’s just like killing a spider or a lizard, I told myself, except that was a very big lizard.

 The knight got up and walked painfully over to us. I could see blood rushing from his shoulder. Jennifer grimaced.

  Then I noticed the funny clothes Jennifer and Alan were wearing—Jennifer was dressed in a medieval ladies outfit, and Alan like a pageboy!

  Just like on the page in the book!

“It is kind of funny,” remarked the knight, which I knew was Sean (the main character), “that I came to save thee (with the help of my pageboy, of course), and yet thee saved me! How did thee do it?”

  I saw he was directing the question at me. “Oh…well…I just kind of stabbed.”

  Sean looked puzzled. “Thee are speaking strange, fair lady. Thee used to talk like thy, and yet thee now talk differently. Why is it so?”

  I groaned. We had become book characters! “Well, I don’t know. I just…you know, speak this way.”

 Sean shook his head. “I don’t understand thee.”

Chapter III

To the Horror of Jennifer

I sighed. “Look…”

   Jennifer looked at me, but I couldn’t do anything. I knew she was despairing.

  “Where are we, Allegra?!” Alan demanded hotly. “Where is England? What have you done to us?!”

  Sean looked with disapproval at Alan. “Pageboy, what makes thy speak so rude? Thy are lower then they are, and yet thy acts above.”

   Alan turned to Sean. “For your information, I’m not your pageboy! I am a free citizen of England, and I go to an expensive boarding school! So there!”

  I looked at Sean. “Where are we? England?”

 He nodded. He probably thought maybe the dragon had hurt our brains somehow.

  “Thought so,” I mumbled to myself.

Jennifer looked on the verge of tears. “What are we going to do? I want to go back!”

Sean looked puzzled. “Back where?”

I sighed. “We’re from a different time period, but you wouldn’t understand. We fell through a book—you’re a book character, as are we now.” I knew he thought we were crazy. “But you wouldn’t understand. Come on, Jennifer.”

 I pulled her by the hand, and was about to walk away when Sean started speaking.

  “Please, don’t go! I want to understand thee.” He sighed. “So I am only a lowly book character?”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry, really.”

Sean shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. But what are you going to do?”

  I wished I had the book. Oh well.

“I…well, I don’t know.” I thought for a moment, trying to recall the book…of course, I hadn’t got as far as the picture, but still…then it hit me—there was the lovely young princess Aspen, and the Duke Viscount’s young beautiful daughter, Rowena.

 (NOT the one from Ivanhoe.)

I groaned, as I knew who I was—Rowena. The beautiful Rowena. But I wasn’t beautiful, for goodness sakes!

  That’s when I noticed that I had a lot longer curly hair. I looked despairingly at Jennifer.

  “Jennifer, I have something awful to tell you…” I started.

Jennifer looked right at me. “Who am I? I’m someone, aren’t I?” she groaned.

  I cringed. “You’re the princess Aspen.”

She shrieked. “NO I’M NOT!”

  I nodded. “You are in the story.”

 Sean nodded. “Of course thee are. Thee were both taken by that horrible lizard.”

  I turned to Sean. “Look, we have to get out of here, because I’m not going back, and neither is Jennifer. She is not going to act Princess Aspen. Do you understand?”

  Sean nodded. “But I can’t do anything.”

Just then, there was the gallop of hooves, and several horses and riders appeared.

 Jennifer groaned. “They’re going to take me, aren’t they? Come on, Allegra, you know the story—do they separate us?”

  I felt guilty. “Jennifer, I don’t know—I hadn’t gotten very far into the book.”

  She groaned AGAIN.

And the horses stopped right by us. But, to Jennifer’s surprise, they didn’t run to her side, they ran to mine.

  “Rowena!” cried an older man.

I recognized him from the description of Rowena’s father. I smiled, and hoped I could remember to talk like they did, with ‘art’, ‘thee’, ‘thou’…you get the picture.

  “Hello, father, thy daughter is very grateful to thy servant, Sir Sean.” I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping Sean really was Duke Elbert’s vassal (Duke Elbert was my “father”).

  Elbert smiled. “I see thou art fine, and yes, I must reward our trusted servant, Sir Sean.”

  I smiled.

And inwardly cringed.

He turned to Sir Sean. “I will promote thee to knighthood. Is that what thou wanted?”

  Sean nodded eagerly. “Oh, thank you. Thy servant is forever grateful.”

   

Chapter IV

Nomad’s…friendly or not?

  Allan walked up to me and sneered. “Yeah? And about me?”

    Just then an angry looking man rode out from the middle of the group up to Jennifer.

 “Not so fast, my coddled pet. Thou art going back to thy castle, to face thy father, of course.”

  Jennifer gulped, and looked at me as to say, “help!” I wasn’t feeling jealous of her situation, I can tell you that.

  Elbert smiled down at me. “I am just glad thou art well. When I heard that thou and thy yonder princess had gone away (with the princess taking thy, of course, since thy are her loyal servant), I was much troubled. I am just so glad thy are safe.”

   He kept on hugging me. I smiled (fakely, of course).

     Jennifer didn’t look happy riding on the man’s horse, (I wasn’t sure what his name as, but I was sure I would soon find out) but my “father” seemed pretty nice.

   “Lord Guardian Crispin,” said Elbert, “what art thy going to do with yonder charge?”

   Crispin (which I now knew was the one Jennifer was riding with) grunted. “I told thou—I am taking the princess to her daddy!”  The way he said “daddy” sounded more like “datty”—not to mention him talking in an English accent.

  (As do I).

Elbert and Crispin urged their horses faster, and soon we lost sight of Sean. Not good.

Before he did, I watched as the hero of the book faded away, into the dust, into to falling night. And Allan, of course.

It was nighttime, and still there was no sign of the castle. The Lords all made it look as though it were perfectly normal, and soon were setting up a huge camp.

 Jennifer and I had our own personal silk tent, furnished with the finest things. Jennifer was sleeping in the same tent, as I was her attendant.

  I ate some of the finest things (including Turkish Delight), and went to bed early. I yawned and jumped into the bed, clothes and all.

In the middle of the night, the most atrocious yelling started. Jennifer and I woke with a start.

 “What is that?” asked Jennifer, already hiding under the bed.

    I didn’t answer her, but ran over to the wall and grabbed a sword. Surprisingly, it was strangely light weighted, and fitted my hand perfectly, as though made for it. Then I grabbed a dagger that was sitting on a trunk and stuffed it into the sash on my dress.

 I hid to one side of the tent flap. Soon, a nomadish looking man (that is, Arab dressed) poked his head through. I didn’t have the guts to kill him, so I silently knocked him over the head, making him unconscious.

   I wrinkled my nose at him, and threw him back outside. I heard Jennifer scream, and turned to see a nomad holding her, Jennifer struggling fiercely.

 He said something, and then started laughing.

Bonk!

 Nothingness.

I struggled to open my eyes, but they seemed heavily weighted. Finally, I won the battle and my eyes flew open. Surprisingly, I wasn’t tied up.

  Instead, I was just stuffed into a bag.

    Not that much better, mind you.

I started struggling, but was whacked.

 “Stop that!” came a voice.

I noticed it wasn’t English, and wondered why I could understand him. Then it hit me—young girls of my age, who might acquire the throne some day, were taught different languages.

    Through the sack, I could tell it was daytime. Since my hands were free, I could move them some.

  Then I remembered! The dagger!

I felt my sash, and it was still there. I was ready for action.

The Strangely Cryptic Jake Schmitz

OK, so you guys are going to think this is really boring, please just don't rate it meanly! The chapter had to be written. *sigh*

~Storyteller

The Strangely Cryptic Jake Schmitz

I really have no idea why he told us it was going to be a ride to remember. Because we just went the speed limit and there wasn’t anything amazing about the ride. Maybe it was just something he said every time he got into the car. You know, like some kind of password thingy. Who knows.

        Jake, as far as I could tell, was a really old guy with a gray grizzled beard and wore old clothes with a whole bunch of oil stains on them (at least, I hoped they were oil stains). He drove a beat up old pickup and saved kids from the school bullies. I didn’t think he could get weirder.

         “Mr. Schmitz,” started Logan, leaning forward and looking at our strange rescuer, “I just wanted to say thanks for saying us.” He hesitated, and then burst out, “But how on earth did you know we needed help and how on earth did you know when to come and save us?!”

        “Settle down, Logan,” the old man advised, “and just call me Jake. I can’t abide being called ‘Mr. Schmitz’ like some old guy.” Sorry, dude, but you’re an old guy.

        “Oh, OK, Jake.” Logan cleared his throat. “But how did you know?”

        “New topic,” declared Jake. “Now, who were those kids? They looked like plain trouble to me.”

       “Their names are Sam, Hunter, and Calvin,” Logan provided. “They’re the bullies of our school. They were chasing us because Jessie stood up to them.” Logan’s face was in a grin. “She was awesome.”

      “Hmm, thanks,” I snorted sarcastically.

      “Well, sounds like you can take care of yourself, little lady,” smiled Jake.

      “It’s Jessie,” I corrected.

      Jake frowned. “When your parents came to visit me, I distinctly remembered that your mom referred to her daughter Jess and your dad called you Jessica. How strange.” He paused. “And yet now you’re calling yourself Jessie?”
       “It was my idea,” Logan grinned.

       “Well, Jessie’s probably my favorite, anyway,” he shrugged. “Other than Jess. I rather like Jess.”
       “I just needed something different,” I shrugged. “Surely you know what I mean, Jake.”

      Jake’s eyes misted slightly. “Yes. Yes, I do, Jessie. More than you know.”

      Ooo-kay…Jake was being strangely cryptic as his eyes misted, as Flynn Rider from Tangled would say. Logan nudged me, and I was about to punch him back when I realized he wanted me to look out the window. We’d arrived in Rain Heights.

      “Thanks, Jake, for the ride,” I said quickly. “Could you just drop me off here?”

      “You sure you don’t want to be dropped off at the gas station?” Jake questioned with a frown.

         “Oh, no, right here’s fine,” I answered. “I like walking.”

        “Me, too,” agreed Logan.

        “OK, then.” Jake screeched the truck to a halt. The second it stopped, I threw open the door and hopped out.

      “Bye, kids!” Jake waved and roared off.

       “You know,” I started to Logan, “I think there’s something more about that guy.”

     “What do you mean?” questioned Logan.

     “Oh…never mind.” I shook my head. “Come on.”

The Protecters

First of all, for those who are frustrated with all the posts:
Don't worry, once more people get into the grove of school it'll die down. :)

Second of all, I didn't finish the chapter in the post before, so it's going to be the end of the last one and the start of the second. ;) Sorry if that confuses you.

But it’s good not to dwell on that. Ha, I sound like a bitter old grandma. Let’s just get back to the story.

We were there in an instant. Within a blink of an eye, the roads transported us above ground. I stuck my arm out of the window, enjoying the warmth on the sun on my skin. ‘’Just because you have a cat suit doesn’t mean you need to act like one,’’ grouchy Chrissy said. ‘’Just because you are grouchy doesn’t mean you need to act like one,’’ I spat back, frowning. Chrissy was always like this, or at least around me. Once I heard her laughing with everybody else, but that was before I joined. She had tried to lose me when we were in Egypt, which plainly showed her dislike for me when I came back.

‘’Where are we going?’’ Jack asked, breaking me out of my trance. ‘’8^th Avenue, West Wall, four blocks down, to the right. Barge into the gate, or get little miss catty to get it open for us,’’ Chrissy snarled, looking perfect in her Greek goddess outfit. ‘’No, that’ll be fine. I’m sure, if anybody can, I’ll get it open,’’ I say. Liam sighs and throws potato chips at us. ‘’Stop! Or feel the wrath of BATMAN!’’ He screams, closing his eyes. ‘’Oh, Gosh no,’’ Chrissy says sarcastically. She ducks under the curtain that is covering the girls’ room. The only time Chrissy and I have ever ‘’bonded’’ is when we decided to hide candy there {it’s a no-boys zone}.

The Blue Moon stops abruptly at an newly built house, still reeking with the smell of paint. ‘’Do your magic,’’ Jack says, pushing me out.

My senses tell me what to do first: climb the gate. Iron – it’ll hold me. Wicker – harder to find foot holes. Never the less, I tell myself, it’ll be easy. I climb determinedly up the wall; only once or twice to I falter.

The gate is high up, and it takes me a good half hour to even reach the half point. I place my foot in a foot hole, only to lose it. I am left, dangling, with only one hand on the gate. My muscles are screaming, and my mind is burning with a single thought:

I am going to fall.

          CHAPTER TWO: LILLIAN: {RETIRING RICH IS WORTH SOMETHING, AFTER ALL}:

‘’Here, grab this,’’ a husky, male voice says, sending a rope sliding. I clutch to it. ‘’Thanks, and um… who are you?’’ I mumble. Either he doesn’t hear, or he pretends not to. He drags me up, and I settle on the slender top of the gate like only a cat would. ‘’I never imagined robbers to look like cats,’’ he says in a quaint, quite voice. I felt like pushing him off. ‘’Never mind, only how do we get down?’’ I ask. ‘’Oh no, that would never do. Introductions first, if you don’t mind. I am Robert Downey Jr., the third,’’ he says, trying hard to bow.

If you’re wondering what I was wondering: Does Robert Downey Jr. time travel, too? No, we, or at least, I, were wrong. He had grayish blueish eyes, and dark black hair. But that supplies us with the question: How much of a jr. is Robert Downey Jr. {the famous one}? Never mind. Back to the story.

‘’I’m Queen Elizabeth, future queen of England. Let’s move on, shall we?’’ I say, not bothering to curtsy. ‘’Fine, but I believe girls shouldn’t make it obvious they haven’t had any schooling!’’ Robert says, waving his hands wildly in the air to prove his point. To his mistake. He plummets down to the ground, screaming ‘’I hide the money under the…’’ 

Apparently I'm not the only 'slightly' sarcastic one, after all. ;)

~Madeline 

Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate: Part Four: by Willow

Written by Willow and Assisted by Darrion

"Untie us, Will!" D yelled urgently.
 "I'm trying! It's tied too tightly!" I called back, insatiably frustrated. The stupid rope. It connected our ship to Taise's ship. Our ship was being towed behind theirs.
 "Then cut us loose!" Darren shouted. Why didn't I think of that before?
  "Right!" I cried. Sliding my slim, black sword out of it's sheath {attached to my back}, I started sawing at the thick rope holding our ship captive.
 Which is really hard to do in the poring rain. In the dark of night. On the sea. In a storm. What luck.
 "Hack faster!" D shrieked. "We're never gonna live if we don't disconnect!"
 "I'm trying!" I yelled back. "Ugh!"
 Twang. The rope broke. I lurched forwards, as the rope I had been sawing at I was also balancing on.
 Grasping the prow, I swung my legs back onto the top, gripping the wood hard. My fingernails would be ruined.
 The ship dipped sharply in the lurching waves, making a sharp turn to the left of it's former tower.
 I threw myself to the mast, and hugged it for dear life.
 Now you must understand, I {like Darren} usually have 'sea issues'. But surprisingly on this voyage, I'd hardly felt ill at all. Of course, on all former voyages, I paid no attention to the way you ran a ship. Why should I care?
 In the Star Wars Universe, all you need to know is how to wield a lightsaber, shoot a blaster, and how to fly a starship. I was pretty good with #1, getting better at #2, and was horrible at #3. I hate flying. Ugh.
 So of course, whenever I had the bad luck of getting carted around *Solondria in a *Sky Ship, I tried to stay inside. I had no such luck now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time we had ridden out the storm, and the sun had peeked out over the glistening water, we had absolutely no idea what to do.
 Option #1 was to try to make some kind of distress signal to *The Valiant, the Codebearer's flagship, and getting out of here.
 Option #2 was to try and accomplish what we had come here for. To find a palintir. A palintir is also known as a Seeing Stone. In Middle-earth.
 Back when we had been in Middle-earth, *Aragorn had told us that all of the Seeing Stones were not accounted for.
 Then we heard of one here. And here we were.
 Option #3 was to go back and get Warren.
 "I propose we vote on our options." I shoved a now straight lock of hair behind my ear, and looked at the other's faces.
 D shrugged. "Sure."
 Darren nodded. "Fine with me."
 I tossed my hair over my shoulder. "Ok. We know our options. What shall we do?"
 "I know, we could go find the treasure that Teeza's looking for, then trade it for Warren!" D's face brightened.
 "How are we going to do that?" I asked in disgust. "We don't even know what this treasure thing is called!"
 D nudged Darren. "Darren does. He memorized the map. I heard what it's called to, 'The Treasure of Stones'."
 "Great. A treasure of stones? How's that gonna help Warren?" I rolled my eyes.
 "It's probably just called that, no biggie." D shrugged. "It's our best option. All in favor, say 'aye'."
 "Aye." Both Ds' voices rang together.
 "Oh fine. Aye." I joined in. "Let's get on with it then."
 "What should we do then?" Darren asked, about to start chewing a fingernail, but dropped his hand quickly.
 I twitched a smile. "Easy. Look through the 'pirate lore' storybooks. Look for anything with a 'stone treasure' in it. While two of us look through the books, the other one will steer the ship, kay?" The Ds nodded eagerly. "Okay, Darren. You first. Your dad is in the Navy right?"
 Darren nodded. "Yeah. But he's lost at sea..." Darren's voice trembled. I patted his back.
  "I'm sorry, Darren. I hope they find him soon." I felt sorry for Darren. Poor guy. To Be Continued...



{Hope you liked it!}


*Solondria: The Codebearer's Hunter Brown Series, their other world
*The Valiant: The Codebear's Flagship {we made it up}
*Aragorn: Lord of the Rings- Member of the Fellowship

Yes, this story is extremely short

Sorry. I finished it on Word, so I'm eager to start another story. That's why this will be rather a bit longer, and then I'll start a much longer one after this.

VOICE OF AN ANGEL: THE REST

Amanda walked shyly up to me while I was eating lunch. ‘’Can I sit here?’’ ‘’Sure,’’ I answer, trying my best to smile. ‘’I was surprised when I got Belle, because I was sure you would get it,’’ Amanda said, staring fixedly at her apple. ‘’I still feel like you should of got it. So, I’m saying this: I know they’ll give you Belle if I ask them to. I don’t mind taking April.’’ Amanda paused for a second. ‘’I just want to know if I really got this part,’’ Amanda said, her eyes blurring a little. I couldn’t help myself—I hugged her {I’m not the hugging type—not all girls want pink ponies}. ‘’I really don’t mind. I never really wanted Belle, anyway,’’ I say.  Amanda looked into my eyes, shocked. ‘’Thanks,’’ she quietly said.

‘’So I’m Dominic,’’ Dalton quietly says, staring at the ground. It was after the announcement, and we were walking home. ‘’And I’m April. What about it?’’ I ask, frowning. ‘’Don’t they get, um, married,’’ Dalton says, staring even harder at the ground. ‘’They do!’’ I almost scream worriedly. This is horrible, I thought. Dalton and I were just friends—I promise. And I wanted to keep it that way. ‘’Well, Mom says next year I can date,’’ I say awkwardly, kidding {I was sixteen}. Dalton stares at me, mouth hanging open. ‘’I was kidding, I was kidding!’’ I practically scream. We part awkwardly at our houses.

That night changed my life.

‘’Dears,’’ Mom says, leaning on Dad. We were eating our favorite dinner—sugar snap peas, mashed potatoes, and chicken {yes, we even like the peas}. ‘’Y’all are going to have a baby brother or sister!’’ Victoria’s mouth hangs open, and mine, too. You might think my mouth was hanging open because of the news. Um, no. It was because Mom said ‘’y’all’’. ‘’You know we aren’t southern, right?’’ Victoria asks, thinking the same thing I was thinking.

          The rehearsals passed quickly. Nobody made any huge mistakes, as we were all fairly good singers. I can’t say I remember any that well, except for the last one:

Amanda was singing one of Belle’s lines, missing all the notes. ‘’For the last time, Amanda, hit the notes!’’ Drama Teacher yelled. ‘’I’m sorry!’’ Amanda sobbed. It was a bad day for everybody—we were all missing up. ‘’Nicole Patterson, please report to the principle’s office,’’ a cool voice came over the loud speakers. Courtney, my understudy, took my place.

          In my head, I counted anything that could be called to the principle’s office for. Nothing. ‘’Nicole,’’ Mr. Mattern said, face stricken. ‘’Your mother is giving birth. Your aunt will be here any second to pick you up.’’ ‘’But my mom isn’t due for at least two months!’’ I said, frowning. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ was all Mr. Mattern said. I walk to the front of the school and put my head in my hands, not thinking.

          ‘’Aunt Maeve says she’s going to buy us ice cream!’’ Victoria exclaims. ‘’Where’s the best ice cream shop?’’  Maeve asks {she’s only two years older than me}, driving nowhere. ‘’Ben and Jerry’s,’’ I say blankly, staring out the window. ‘’That it is.’’

          Maeve and Victoria were playing Scrapple, but I was drawing my feelings out. I drew a tearing heart, two best friends, babies, and ice cream. Yes, I thought, I can officially be labeled mental.

          ‘’Hey, girls,’’ Dad said, sitting wearily on the sofa. ‘’Girls, why don’t you go upstairs?’’ Maeve asks. ‘’No way,’’ I answer, ‘’I’m almost as old as you.’’ Victoria, though, ran upstairs obediently. ‘’Your mother is doing well. The doctors say she’ll live,’’ Dad says, grinning. Maeve sobs a little.

          Later, Dad hugs us all and puts Victoria to bed. I sigh, and go up too. Maeve stays down and watches the latest dance show she can find.  I sleep well, knowing that everything will be alright. After all, it was in God’s hands.

          I wake up early, and hear cries. Victoria, I think instantly, throwing my comforter off, and getting ready to comfort her from a bad dream. But no, those are a newborn’s cries. ‘’Mom!” I whisper as I run down the stairs.

          Maeve is bended over a small, wrinkly and pink baby. With a head full of fiery red hair, and greenish blue eyes. Victoria is there, also. ‘’Why did Daddy bring home a baby troll?’’ She asks, twitting her short strawberry blonde hair. Dad steps out from the shadows, with purple lines under his face. He is unshaven, with half a cup full of coffee in his hands. ‘’Vicky,’’ he sighs, ‘’Mommy is going to be gone for a while.’’ His eyes meet mine, telling me the untold truth. Mom isn’t coming back. My knees  weaken, and I struggle to get to a chair. ‘’Lily wanted you to name her,’’ Maeve sighs, gently kissing the baby on the forehead. ‘’Annabelle, then Lily, after Mom. But we should call her Belle for short,’’ I say, touching Belle’s hair. Her eyes open, and stare unblinkingly into mine. Within her eyes, you can see it. The gentle fingers she’d use as a doctor, the spirit as hope, the loveliness, the beautifulness—she is more like Mom than we’d ever know. 

15 YEARS LATER:

          I was wrong—Belle wasn’t a doctor, but a dancer. She twirled on her toes, and seemed like she was floating when she jumped. Then she decided to become an actress, and then after that a farmer… who knows what will be next for my fiery little sister?

If you're wondering what happened to the play, I don't gather info before writing a story. I know, I'm horrible, but whatever. :P

  I haven't decided what's going to be next, but it'll be exciting. I'm really into Greek Culture {and I have almost 30 WORD pages done of a book}, plus I like Percy Jackson, so I'm thinking there might be something like that. It's currently name-less--Just like my other book. Oh, well. :P

 P.S. Authors, we also have a schedual over to the left. It doesn't have a calendar, but if you've got the hang of your days it's pretty helpful. ;)