Sell my Soul

Hello all :) This is the beginning of an idea I had for a book. I'm not going to give anything about the plot away but I thought I'd just release this little bit and see if anyone was interested. It also needs a new title and/or some seriously intense artwork for the cover. If you could help that would be great :) Please comment what you think :) thanks!

On the first part of the journey, 

I was looking at all the life. 

There were plants and birds. and rocks and things, 

There was sand and hills and rings. 

The first thing I met, was a fly with a buzz, 

And the sky, with no clouds. 

The heat was hot, and the ground was dry, 

But the air was full of sound.

After two days, in the desert sun, 

My skin began to turn red. 

After three days, in the desert fun, 

I was looking at a river bed. 

And the story it told, of a river that flowed, 

Made me sad to think it was dead. 

After nine days, I let the horse run free, 

'Cause the desert had turned to sea. 

There were plants and birds, and rocks and things, 

There was sand and hills and rings. 

The ocean is a desert, with its life underground, 

And a perfect disguise above. 

Under the cities lies, a heart made of ground, 

But the humans will give no love. 

You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name, 

It felt good to be out of the rain. 

In the desert you can remember your name, 

'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain. 

She walked up the grey stairs. The narrow walls of the small hallway pushing her thoughts closer together.  She spiralled upwards, and though she was perfectly alert, her mind was cloudy. Whispers floated in and out of her ears.  Pictures flashed before her eyes, so vivid and clear that they blocked out the stairway in front of her. Her cloth boots scraped against the worn marble stairs, as the cold bitter wind whipped her long hair into her face. Rich orange light spilled out of tiny barred windows and clothed her in a brilliant striped robe. She could almost smell the fear in the thin autumn air. In the small gold square below, a small crowd was assembling around the old, dry well. She knew perfectly well what they were seeing... But she ignored the scene, and continued on her journey.. With each step, one thought burst into smoke as a new one appeared. Her mind was racing now, the clouds beginning to fade. She paused, took one look outside the window, her breath heavy. She saw it, the one image she needed to see. In an outburst of silent rage and emotion, she snapped into a heavy run up the stairs. The door appeared in front of her. Welcoming its presence, she exited the staircase, and stepped onto the roof of the stone bell tower. At that moment, the bell began to chime. Only one person in that little square saw her. A little boy, clutched in his father’s arms, averted his eyes from the horrible seen in front of him. The bell tower had begun to chime, but no one had seemed to notice. It was then, when his eye caught movement behind the bell. As it swung to the left, he glimpsed a slender female figure, arms spread wide. It swung again, covered her. When it glided back to the right side of the tower, she was gone.

“Bet you can’t beat me!” he said as he pulled on his shoes and raced outside the door. She was right onto his heels. The door came and went in a whirr and they were off, racing up the cobblestone road. When watching two siblings racing down a street, one would expect them to follow a planned trajectory. But not these two. He took a sudden turn, and began heading straight towards the wall of a small building. Instead of colliding head on, like one would expect, he took a few leaping steps and jumped, with enough speed and power to launch himself high enough to grasp the small archway above a window. He continued upwards, scaling the building, and she followed. Perhaps if there were people strolling on the street, like there were during usual daylight hours, there would have been a few surprised comments headed their way, or a confused glance the rooftops they navigated. But it was not daylight outside, in fact the sun was just coming up, and most of the small village’s inhabitants were still sound asleep. The pair began to climb the adjoining roof tops up the small hill, over ledges, around chimneys, up more walls. Finally, they arrived at the old catholic cathedral, a mammoth of stained glass windows and 15th century architecture. They knew how to climb it like they knew their back yard. It was difficult to tell which was faster, the girl or the boy, as they each took their own paths up the church’s high walls, and eventually up the bell tower it possessed. “Call it a draw?” the boy asked, panting. “Never,” the girl replied, smiling. “It’s a good life,” he exhaled. His words bounced off the orange glow peeping out from beneath the blanket of stars. “The best.” She returned. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t change.” “Let’s just hope it doesn’t change us.”