The Ink Infection [Brief hold and Editing]

Chapter 1

If pacing burned calories, I wouldn't need to go to the gym this year. Seriously! I couldn't stop walking back and forth for the past few hours! I literally have nothing else to do to get my mind off of those... I sighed and stopped in my tracks, looking down at the stripes on my carpet, created by the afternoon light shining through the blinds. All I could do was just wait: for news, a text message, a change, anything! Walking towards my desk, the pile of books and papers came into view. It was summer, and I didn't bother trying to clean up after school ended. School this year was horrible! Although it was my last year in school until college, I didn't have any regrets about leaving the school. I mean, all the teachers sucked and had favorites- sadly, I wasn't one of them, but I still had a lot of friends. I flipped through the papers.

Physics Unit 4 Review was written on one of them. Don't get me started in physics! I hate physics with a passion. That was the unit I struggled on the most. I think I got a 37 on it, but whatever. Everybody else failed, too. I flipped through the rest.

Mechanical Advantage, Fluid Press Practice Problems, 8.27 Mech, Calculus, Organic Chem HW, Mitosis/Meiosis Quiz, the papers went on and on. All my worst subjects, too. I decided to throw them out later after dinner. My mind went foggy, and the topic that had me anxious since this morning came back, hitting me straight in the head, reminding me that I should be sitting on the edge of bed, head in my knees, and tapping my foot on the floor.

Instead, I opened the window after having a tug of war with the blind strands, and took a huge breath of the fresh autumn air. Outside my window, leaves were turning bright orange and red, with the crisp breeze blowing through the trees. I started looking down at the neighborhood in front of me. All the houses and roads were covered in dead, bright leaves. Kids were playing in the pile of leaves under a tree, and they all stopped as the wind ruffled their hairs, placing leaves in them.

Suddenly, a scream filled the air. Nearly getting a heart attack, I poked my head out of the window. The scream diminished, but was soon replaced with another- this time, with grief and disappointment. All around the neighborhood, choruses of screams filled the air. I quickly pulled my head from the window. Is it here? Already? No way! I rushed down the stairs and opened my front door. A cold breeze greeted me and I looked down. I could see piles of mail along with brown and orange leaves. I picked one up and read out loud, "Plumer Chipmunk, we clear your drainpipe for free! Email us..." I sighed, throwing the mail inside the house. Seriously, who in the right mind makes an advertisement like that? In my opinion, they should be fired.

Even though those advertisements sucks, it might be useful in the future. I mean my dad works as a mechanic, so he could fix the drainpipe... I don't know, let's just play safe.. I went through the mail, looking for one in particular.

"Looking for something?" the voice came from in front of me. I looked up and saw the orange, yellow streets filled with children screaming, laughing, and running.

"W-who?" I stuttered, looking frantically around my surroundings, my eyes came to a figure behind a tree. "Who are you?" I demanded, slowly standing up.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't for my favorite person." said the voice. The figure stepped out from behind the tree. He was tall and fit, his wet dark brown hair from what, A shower?, covering his tanned face. He had black jeans and had a white sweater on top. His sunglasses covered his eyes, but his smirk gave him away.

"Derek!" I smiled back, surprised to see him in my front lawn. "What are you doing here? You know you can just come in to my house."

"Well, forgive me, but I went through your pile of mails, and fetched this." He took out a letter with a green stamp in the middle, ignoring the second part of my question. He put it up high and gave it to me in a dramatic bow as if he was a scribe for the king. "For Prince Neil. Your majesty."