On the Surface

CHAPTER 1: Audition

(A/N: This story was written August of 2012. I was eleven years old. Please judge the writing on that spectrum, not that of an adult. I will probably never continue or edit this story, but heres a little piece of it anyways, if you would still like to read it.)

CHAPTER 1 Audition

Anabelle fidgeted in her seat. It was a hard surface, though not uncomfortable. The red leather was cold against her skin. She glanced nervously around the waiting room. there seemed to be about seven other girls left, some with their parents, but the majority looked unsupervised. Anabelle took a shaky breath and took off her glasses. everything suddenly looked fuzzy, just silhouettes of what they really were. there was a rustling noise from the speakers and a click, and a female voice spoke in a hazy, bored voice.

   "Number twelve, please report to the set, number Twelve: Miss Leanne Hertz, to the set please." 

A younger girl who looked about Twelve, with Dark skin and hair snapped upp, and trotted of to the stage. Anabelle crammed her glasses back onto her face. She was number thirteen. It wasn't her first time auditioning for something, but this was big. this audition was for a real movie. It was called "On the Surface" The girl next to her grunted and looked up. the sticker on her shirtfront had a large black 15 on it. Anabelle glanced at her. A strong build. She was definitely athletic, with strait brown hair falling over her face, up to her shoulders. She had bangs that almost obscured her eyes and freckles on her nose, and she seemed to be about Anabelles's age... maybe fifteen, maybe sixteen.

   "Hey," Anabelle said, "who are you trying out for?" 

   "Arno. 'jubilation to the right of insanity'" she quoted in a deep voice, and snickered at the disapproving look Anabelle displayed. "only kidding. I'm going for Cara. don't like all the attention. she's perfect for me."

   "Oh." was all Anabelle said. the girl went back to the magazine sprawled on her lap. it showed the Olympic athletes in a corner shot on the left page with an article that Anabelle couldn't read. she turned away and clasped her hands together, looking down at them. Arno was a phsycopath old woman who was never sober. or at least that's how it sounded on the description of the movie. Carla was a younger girl, who had barely any lines, but she did have an important part. Anabelle sighed in anticipation. Sometimes she still wished her mom came to auditions with her, but it didn't really matter. Mr. Jujube the teddy wouldn't comfort her now, she would die of embarrassment if her mom walked in with the battered yellow bear tucked under her arm. Anabelle imagined her mother walking in with her fishnet tights, high heeled boots, a red leotard and a black leather biking jacket. she would have her hair crimped to perfection, and her phone in her hand and shake the bear in agitation, muttering, "Take the  bear, Ana. I don't got all day." between snorts of laughter. God, that would be terrible. 

   "Number thirteen, please report to the set, number thirteen: Miss Anabelle Creech, to the set please." the anouncer's voice drawled through the speakers. Anabelle jumped. it was her turn. her palms were sweating, her brow furrowed and she felt like her insides had been removed and placed in front of her. She gulped. The brown haired girl stared up at her and said something, but Anabelle didn't hear it, her ears were erupting with the sound of her blood rushing.

   "Oh, uh okay." She said deftly. Her head spun, but she stood up and began to walk to the door of the waiting room. it was a simple destination. Anabelle told herself, if i can make it to this door i can make it to my part. If i manage to turn the handle i can manage to do my best. if i can pass over the floor one more time, i can do it. and the door swung shut behind her.

   In the hour that followed her audition, Anabelle's mom had come to pick her up, not in the dreaded red leotard thankfully, but wearing tight jeans, an "ITEM" T-shirt, and a pair of high heeled converse. It could be worse. Anabelles mom was a model, for Chic Chick Modeling Agency. She was young, and beautiful too, but Anabelle felt like a mother shouldn't be a model, she should be something more suitable for a mom, like a writer, or a teacher maybe.

   Anabelle didn't speak to her mother when she arrived. She just gave a little grunt and stepped towards the door, trying to avoid eye contact, but Mrs. Creech was not letting the audition go that easily.

   "Well hons, how'd it go? Did you make yourself a sta? Com on sister, spill it!" she pried, oblivious to the other peope staring at her.

   "It was fine, mom. Let's go now... please?" Anabelle pleaded.

   "Uh uh, now we are gonna talk about it Anna, I don't care if it take all day. You and me," she said gesturing between her and the Thirteen year old girl, "we got nothin' to talk about, know? W egotta pick this up baby."

   "No, mom we'll talk in the car, now let's go!" Anabelle gasped in frustration, storming out to the car. befor she made it to the door, she saw the girl with brown hair looking pitifully at her and laughing behind her magazine. Anabelle rolled her eyes and continue to the door.

   "Well okay, baby but you gotta spill it to me there, you know mumsy like a peica hot gossip, huh?" She cooed and stubled clumsily out after her duaghter. Anabelle wondered if her mother was drunk, but put it out of her mind.

   In the car, Anabelle closed her eyes and slumped in her seat. She hated when her mother came and started talking in her model talk like she did when she was at her spa. she rolled down her window and let the Summer breeze float in through it, carrying a thousand smells that blended together perfectly. Her light honey/caramel coloured hair blew out of her face, and slowly, opened her eyes again.

   This was one of her favorite streets to drive down, close to her own. The grass here grew long and wild and the houses all looked crooked. they were old, big houses, all with skeleton looking trees and leafless bushes. Weeds and vines overflowed out if the gardens and there was ivy everywhere. It reminded her of something she might have seen somewhere, before this.

   It looked like something out of a book, Anabelle thought. she beamed to herself and stuck her head out of the window to see further. The hot sunshine of July beat down on her neck, but Anabelle didn't care. she could hear the rattling of plastic wheels of a wagon on uneven concrete and little kids yelling to each other. Then, she saw something that grabbed her attention. there was a girl, who looked about her age, with Blonde hair and pale skin, holding a little boy, only about two years old, with a large bag of groceries on one hand, and Two kids about 10 years old aurguing. she was walking towards the road, and she didn't see them coming. Anabelle heald her breath.

   "Mom!" Anabelle screamed. the girl was staring wide eyed at the car hurtling towards her, and yelling something to the little kids. They froze and backed be hind her. The girl's scream mingled with Anabelle's own, and suddenly time seemed to slow down. The fear on the girl's face was so real, so precise and innocent, that it seemed no matter what happened, nothing could hurt them. But that was a lie.

   Anabelle slammed forward onto the dashboard, heer glasses flew off and time was speeding at normal pace again. The whole world seemed to be spinning as the car came to an abrupt stop, feet away from the girl and the children, who were scurrying across the road. Anabelle raised her head up, and felt her aching temple. It was fine, but even with that there seemed to be a feeling in the air... something was wrong, terribly wrong.  Anabelle took a deep breath. The children were safe, she was safe, but when Anabelle stared over at her Mother, behind the wheel, she saw blood on her face, running in a steady trickle from her forehead. Mrs. Creech was still. Anabelle drew in a short breath and heald it there. How did things happen so fast?

HOPE YOU LIKE PART ONE. LEAVE A COMMENT PLEASE, I NEED FEEDBACK. THANK YOU!