The Lunatic Thought Train

starstruck

simpleburger trash394 Slytherin_Queen_172
(This is the story I was telling you guys about!)

~All aboard!~

Okay, so I saw this really cool prompt idea- a superhero novel where the powers completely and utterly contradict the heroes' personalities- and I decided to give it a go, writing a novel for it! Alright, the way I'm thinking is that it's going to be either a four, five or six book series, each one being a main characters' story. There are only four main characters, but I'm deciding whether to have one 'prologue' kind of story as book 1 which would basically be how they got their powers and what they're going to do with it. If I do this, books 2-5 would be how they show their worth and if I do a final book, book 6, that would be, of course, the conclusion. I'm getting ahead of myself, oop! Anyways, I scratched out a prologue to the first chapter and I don't want to publish the boon yet since I'm already writing a couple, but here is the prologue:

Valerie
My ebony colored hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, the waves swaying slightly as I ran my long, callused, musician fingers through it, a sigh escaping from my rouge lips. I pushed my big, square-glasses further up my nose as I decided what to wear for practice today. Mother had always told me to take my glasses off while training, but I never listened although I listened for everything else- the ice was the only home I've ever known. Perhaps only my cello could rival the feeling of home given to me by the ice. Every bit of it, I loved- the cool, sturdy surface, covered with the scars of millions of skaters, skating all over it, the gentle breeze that seemed to waft from every corner, and how no one seemed to appreciate the ice itself. It quite reminded me of myself sometimes. Only my cool surface of the ice was my skin and mind, scarred by people's cruel, harsh words, the gentle breeze being the one I create for myself as a method of comfort in classes...And no one seemed the appreciate me either, no that was not selfish. Throughout the school days, I rarely ever bump into anyone, while the crowd may not part for me, it certainly doesn't allow me to crash into it, disturbing the set placement. My only true friends were my cello, a book, and absolutely above all, the ice. For the ice would never let me down...People may have, my tragic books may have, but never the ice. Hell, the ice even resided in the cold, blue depths of my irises. Skating had been there for me since I was barely two, and now thirteen years later, it was still there. And all I may be able to do is pray that in the future, it will stay like that...

Leonardo

I stared at the canvas in concentration, my eyebrows tightly knit and my tongue slightly stickig out of my mouth, as my brush made precise strokes around it. The black contrasted with the cool blue perfectly, the tiny brush strokes within the eye adding every possible detail known without overblowing it. A pencil stuck behind my ear, only a bit tangled into my messy hazel colored hair, in a way only artists could manage- secure from falling and breaking the point, but easy to pull out in one fluid motion. Now anyone who knew me knew, I did not paint 'real,' no matter what the teachers coax you. I paint what I see and for no one but me. Little snowflakes danced in the girls eyes, mingling with a few demons which seemed to slightly, just slightly, seep into the cold, blue depths of her eyes. She seemed to smile, but with the dance in her eyes, it was simple to tell that her soul inside was being frozen yet burnt at the same time- literally in this portrait! A bit of her skeleton was showing, little frostbites everywhere while it seemed to be dancing with flames. I sighed and dubbed it 'Skater Girl,' signing my initials onto the bottom with my signature flourish. I looked around my studio, or room as you may call it, which seemed to have blueprints strewn literally all over. Bottles of paint over all of them, wanting to add tiny details every here and there to better the designs. I left the ginormous canvas being supported on the easel and sunk down, scanning through all of my abandoned projects, one I had made ten years ago causing my breath to hitch: How To Create a Family?

Orpheous

      I glanced down from my room with a gulp, glancing right back up and focusing my vision onto my royal blue curtains. Why did I torture myself like this? My palms began to sweat, my neck as well, as panic slowly started to rise in my eyes. Absentmindedly, I placed myself on my bed, trying to control my hyperventilating. I'm okay...I'm okay...I kept repeating to myself until I could finally feel the panic slowly seep out of my dark colored eyes. I bit my pale pink lip as I ran my cold fingers through my jet black hair that hung slightly over my eyes. I lied down on my bed, staring up at my cerulean painted ceiling momentarily before shooting back to the window, feeling my anxiety levels rise again, my chest rising and falling at a dreadfully slow pace with panic-stricken eyes once again. Every morning, it was the same story. I can't seem to get over this fear and it kills me! Many people may have a fear of heights, but I can't even climb a foot on the rope in Phys. Ed without bursting into a full-on panic attack.

     "Freak," My humorlessly laughing classmates' names seemed to whisper in my ear, as if they were here but a distance away...

     "Baby."

     "Can't even climb a damn rope."

     "Oh, boo-hoo, is the baby going to cry?"

I've never wanted anything. Wanting leads to hope and hope merely leads to sheer and utter disappointment. But all I want now, is to get over this paranormal fear of having my feet over the damn ground.....

Aisha

     I flipped my champagne blonde hair over my shoulder as I scanned my color coordinated closet for my pride and joy. My hair was tied into a high ponytail and my eyelashes boldened by three coats of mascara and lined with a thin, yet still noticeable, line of eyeliner, slightly creeping up my eyelid in a sharp wing. Ahh, there it is. The sides of my plump, watermelon colored lips quirked up as I pulled out my maya colored football uniform out and smoothed it out on my lavender bed sheets. I also pulled my matching, wide hair ribbon out and looped it over my ponytail, touching up my mascara and sliding out of my pajamas, slipping the comfortable uniform on. I stepped in front of my full length mirror and smiled that smile that had fooled everyone for years.

Hush Aish, I thought to myself chidingly. You got what you wanted, you're a star. You're the center of attention, you're the captain of the girls' football team. Everyone knows your name. Everyone fears your name.

Repeating those two final sentences in my mind, I grabbed my black, practice bag- filled with cones, three football balls, and five water bottles- and my phone before heading out and biking to practice. They didn't need to know. They could think the silver Mercedes dropped me off...

Narrator

      Those poor, poor children. All they wanted was either to fade away from the world or march to the top of it easily by coming to this quaint, little town. But little did they know...

Their upside down lives would only twist around further, until it would become unidentifiable what was up and what was down.

Who would've thunk it?

Well, how is it?! Total and utter crap? Alright? Not bad? Doesn't make you want to cringe? Or makes you want to say, 'Oh my God Shilpi, stop yourself?'

Comment what you think!

~Full speed ahead!~