Another Cliche Story

Once upon a modern time, there was a country. In the north of the country, lay very high mountains. Among the mountains, there was a cave. A small one, mind you. And in that cave, beyond the long tunnel, was an opening.

In that little spherical shape, there was a girl.

It was quite dark in the cave. The only light sources were the countless phials on the multiple shelves, each glowing like rainbow glow-in-the-dark stars. And the vat of a bubbling substance that omitted a soft white glow over all the shelves, the girl, and the resisting ladle that was very tiring to move around.

The girl muttered to herself as she went on reaching for phials, tipping more and more substances (from a range of colors) into the huge black cauldron before her. She was quite skinny, you see, barely any muscle of her arms, and sweat would've formed over her brow if she weren't in the mountains and if she were a normal human being.

She was so focussed, she didn't even notice another presence.

"Let's see... I've been reading too much gore these days. I'd like something cheesy, however terrible it may be. So I'll make something cliche. Let's see... small town setting... not a large population... and let this be a story told still in school. School name... town plan... architecture... customs... and the students. We need the nerds and the jocks and the wannabes and the loners and the shy folk and the bullies and the cheerleaders and the people who don't fit into a label..."

We start to drift away, getting bored by the planning every writer needs for a story doesn't necessarily like. But then 'main character' drifts into our subconscious mind. The main character's the best part of the planning.

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