The title of this post means fear of big words. :-) Look it up.
Ok, here's a new little piece from one of my books, The Name of the Game.
"Who are you? Where have you brought us? Why are we here?" Anthony yelled into the empty air of the big, old house.
Suddenly, the beautiful piano music that had been filling the air cut off. Now there was nothing to guarantee that there was anyone besides us alive in the mansion. The six of us waited in fear, listening to the light, barely discernible footsteps coming down the stairs.
Then, quite unexpectedly, the little girl from the class room was in front of us. She looked about 10, this time. Last time I couldn't tell about what age she was. She wore a long, flowing white dress, with her long, white-blonde hair in pigtails. Unlike last time her eyes were black, instead of red.
"I brought you here," she murmured in response to Anthony's question. "This is my home." Her voice and eyes were too old to belong to a child.
"I brought you here for the help you can give me. I need your help to save my brother, Thanatos."
I and some of the others were shocked. This little girl, who we had seen once in our lives, when she crashed through the windows in the gym, swearing, had just asked us to help her save someone we didn't know, and were all sure that he wasn't human.
However, to all of our surprise, Amy was the first to talk. "Is that right," hissed Amy, harshly. "You're going to make us help you find your brother? We don't even know you!"
The girl had a knowing look when she answered. "I know you better than you think. And no, I'm not going to make you help me save him." After a moment she said, "No, I won't make you help me, but I'm begging for the help." The scariest thing about what she said was that her eyes, while she spoke, turned a dark shade of violet.
She didn't look violent or lethal now, just a sad little girl.
"OH! Of course we'll help you!" I could tell that Amy now felt some of the greatest empathy for the child, having been alone enough of her own life, and from seeing all the deaths.
"But you owe us an explanation," Amanda growled through her teeth. I sighed softly to myself, knowing that she would be the last to help. Again I wondered how twin sisters could be so absoloutly opposite from each other.
"You will know, soon enough. For that I am truly sorry," the child whispered, bowing her head, as if in prayer. After a moment she murmured, quietly, without looking up, "For all the Sights, for all the Admas, I am truly sorry."
Of course that was total nonsense to us at the time.
"Wait a moment. You haven't told us your name yet," said Meahgen quietly.
The girl cocked her head to the side for a moment, as if deciding what to say.
"My name is Twilight Dawn Whispers. I am a Creation."
Creepy, right?
Oh, and by the way... Twilight is NOT a vampire! I don't care if her eyes are red and black! They change to lots of different colors! Here's a list.
Red-angry
Black-normal eye color
Dark violet-sad
Icy blue-dangerously calm (Walks slowly up to you, and snaps your neck because she's out of patience calm.)
Sky blue-very, very happy (Rare eye color for her.)
Oh, and the narrator actually isn't that main a character. Haha. No, she's just there to show how different things can be from one person's point of view to another's.
Cheerio, peeps!
Wow! You've got such great writing quality! Where in the book is this part? And what part did you get in the play?
ReplyDeleteThis is from the end of chapter two, and thanks! :-)
ReplyDelete