Hey everybody!!!!!!!!!
Finally, I have some decent writing material good enough to put up for anyone who's willing to read it! I don't mind so much about the comments or votes(dedicated, aren't I?), because originally this was written for my fan base on www.quizilla.com, where I go by the same name as here on www.wattpad.com if you want to take a look see in your free time. Well, I guess that's it! I know its not the most original of storylines (an academy of sorcerers/sorceresses), but I have been having trouble writing lately and this is the best I could come up with, anyway, this is just an introduction and if you really want to get the best reading experience you'll have to read chapter two, which I will have up soon I hope. I'm going away for a few days (my only holiday and I have to do work experience), then I have my birthday (yay, fourteen) and then my showcase (Musical Mania!!!) and eventually school too, so I'm not sure when I'll be updating next. But hey, I'll try my best and hopefully this will keep you all sated until I get the next bit up!
Enjoy it guys, this is best I've done in a while.
-EmoNightWriter (Evelyn/EJ/Evelyn Jeanne/Ebby/Ev/Stella/The Joker)
Strange Things Happen In Avon Hale Academy
By EmoNightWriter (wattpad/quizilla)
Dedicated to my awesome best friends Emma and Alison, and my wonderful boyfriend Luke. Love you all dearly.
Chapter 1.
I clenched my fist tightly, the metal chain of the string of rosary beads I was holding digging into my palm. I had to keep reminding myself, through the pain of having the beads press into my hand, that I was alive. This wasn't a dream, nor was it an elaborate trick of the mind to make me feel now, then laugh later about my stupidity in believing that I was alive and, as cruel as it was harsh, grieving the loss of a life I held dear.
Standing on a cool winter's morning in the middle of the church graveyard, letting the sharp breeze cut my face and numb my senses just enough to make me forget that tears washed down my cheeks and my throat stung, I could no longer feel the rough elements of the outside world, yet inside I was still raw, unable to put my feeling into words. I stood, alive and awake, staring at the smooth, oak wood slab that served as the lid to the coffin, nailed to the long wooden box with silver screws and then fastened with shiny gold handles. The coffin was around six feet long with around three or four inches to spare.
Mason had been exactly six feet high when I'd first met him, that day when Jesse brought him home, a broken fifteen year old boy who tall for his age but phenomenally taller in his emotional mind. Six feet he'd stayed through the full year I'd known him, he didn't grow a centimetre more, though he wanted to reach maybe the six foot three to six foot four mark, like his dad had been.
Mason was his father now, I wanted to flinch at the thought and hold my hand over my heart to keep it from shattering further, if that were even possible. He was his father, tall, dark, handsome and now...dead. He was with his dad and though I wanted to be happy in the thought that they were both at peace, I couldn't. I didn't care if it was selfish, I didn't care if Mason wanted to know his father again, all I cared about was myself. Myself, how I would never speak to him or touch him again, how he could be happy getting to know the one person he'd desired to meet his entire life, and I would loose the person who was my entire life, give or take the spare few minutes I would consider my brother, Jesse, the one who had now lapsed into silence thanks to my mistake, my life.
It had been a mistake, but my fault none the less. Jesse had told me, screamed at me in fact, that I was the reason we, my twin brother and I, were standing here on this chilly morning, staring down at the box that had sealed within it the most beautiful, precious man I'd ever known.
