Hey guys!! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who keep reading. Love to all of you!!! These characters are modeled after my best friends. Quinn and Quill are the boy version of my friend Pippin x2 (she's on here as gingiepower and she deserves some reads)Jason is a male version of Aaryn, and Ashleigh is modeled after Ashlee (on here as A_is_the_name21) ( If Ashleigh is not in the book yet, I appologize. She will be.) I'm coming up with characters for Kaitlin, Little Kaitlynn, and Tania.
Just so you know, writing isn't just a hobby for me. It's a passion. I grow with my characters and often, they surprise me. They're family. They're there when no one else is. Writing is my mode of escape, but I want suggestions. I love writing, and I want my stories to be as good as they can be.
Point of View
* * *
"I can't do this anymore!" I scream. My brother stares at me, looking bewildered.
"Brayd, you've gotta cool it, Mum might hear..."
"Mum might hear?" I whisper. "Mum might hear!" My laughter roars and echoes down the hall way. "Mum might come swooping in here and save you neck from being WRUNG!" I lung at him.
Footsteps pound on the stairs and the door flies open. Mum and Dad try to pry my hands from Joseph's neck. My hands are clamped tight, though, my knuckles white from the strain of holding to him. I laugh. Laugh as his weak body groans, as his brittle bones break from my power, and, finally, as I watch the life leave his eyes.
Mum looks at me in horror as I step back from Joseph.
"Brayd. What have you done?" she says quietly, falling to her knees by his lifeless body.
I take deep, gasping breaths and sank to the floor. Worried, I pulled my knees to my chest and put my face against my knees. What had I done.
"I'm so sorry," I say into my knees. My father puts his hand on my shoulder. Then I explode.
* * *
The room smells of smoke and my head throbs. As my vision slowly focuses, I see two identical redheaded boys by either side of me. I groan.
"She's awake," the one on the right says. "I'll fix up this place and modify their memories," he adds.
"Aye aye, chief," the boy on the left says. I have mo idea what these two are talking about, and, to be honest, I don't care.
The boy on the right stands up as the boy on the left looks me over.
"You hit your head pretty hard and used up most of your power," he says, putting a hand under my elbow. "Here, put your arm across my back, there ya go." He puts his arm at the crook of my legs and scoops me into his arms.
The room is in tatters, the walls burned, chairs broken, dolls smashed and toy trucks shredded. I look sadly at what used to be Joseph and my play room. In the midst of the burning rubble lay my frail looking mother, her hands protecting her big baby belly, my stern father, his hands on my mother, and my lifeless baby brother.
"Did I do all this?" I ask. It is difficult to form the words, and my speech is slow and slurred.
The red haired boys look anxiously at each other.
"Yeah," the boy holding me says.
"Look you need rest," the other says. "We'll explain everything on the way to the Ward."
"The Ward?" I say drowsily.
"Better get going, Quill. I'll hurry and we'll get to the Ward soon." The boy holding me nodded and carried me outside to a van.
