My story's
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:28pm
Thread Topic: My story's
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I've had different little plots twirl in my head and I felt that they should be released as a story. So I'll start with my most recent one.
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The angel walked down a dirt road towards a small country house on some acreage of land with grazing farm animals. His wings were flecked with bronze that glimmered as sliver in the sun. Pale, strands of blonde hair fell in his eyes even more than usual with his head down. A flock of crows made a hissing sound at him, on a tree before they flew away. He stopped in front of a worn door mat that read welcome and then hid his wings.
Emma awoke from her dream, gasping, to find a small figure curled on her lap. It was only her younger brother, Carson, sleeping. She moaned before sliding out of the couch, carful not to wake her brother. Her arms were immensely sore and her head felt like brick had been pounding on it while she was asleep. She walked to her bedroom to get ready for another day of work. It wasn't fair that she had harder chores to do out of the six siblings or on some days, more. Only she didn't choose them, it was her mother.
She just finished pulling her hair up right before her mother walked up to the door way. She was a short woman with very dark eyes, but was scary looking enough to make a grown man be quiet. "Have you gotten started on those chores of yours?" She asked.
"No ma'am." Emma said, almost whispering. She didn't want her to think that she was upset, so she kept quiet most of the time.
Her mom had walked up to her face. "What did you say, young lady?" Her breath smelled like stale alcohol. Probably from the night before.
"I said, no ma'am." Emma said, raising her voice. It was only then that she regretting what she had did. She saw her brother walk by the room with a worried look.
Her mom had no mercy. With that her hand was raised, face contorted, and time had slowed down. -
Jonathan. That was what he remembered after being sent. My name is Jonathan. Jonathan what?, he asked him self mentally. He thought of him mission, what he was sent to do. To help someone... Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by an ear piercing cry of pain. He looked around the house feeling aghast. Most of the windows were too dirty to see through, but he stopped at one. One that was almost clear, but had a view he needed to stop at.
A girl was sitting on her bed with her hands to one side of her cheek. Her dark hair covering her hands, long legs over the side of the bed, was all too familiar. That's her. He thought.
On the other side of the room was an older woman with the same dark hair as the girl. Only, she was much shorter and seemed to be yelling and pointing outside. His Glamour covered him from being seen, but it would soon wear off. Sucking in a deep breath of air, he stepped into the room to hear and see what was going on better.
The older lady seemed calmer now, although, still tense. "I want you to be finished by sunset. You hear me, girl?" She asked through gritted teeth. She held out a piece of paper.
The younger girl only nodded and took the paper, with her right hand still cradling her left cheek. After, what seemed to be her mother, walked out she curled up on the bed and started sobbing. The paper was inches away from her face.
TO DO LIST: CHORES
Milk cows
clean milk
chill milk
get eggs from coop
girls laundry (Charlie will do boys)
sweep/mop kitchen
clean all toilets
refill all animals water
wash dishes (Carson will dry them)
clean YOUR room
-mom
She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling, paying no attention to the boy standing next to her bed. Emma turned her head towards the window to find a figure standing by it. "Charlie, get out." She whispered. What was being covered by her hand became streaks of blood down her face. She squinted her eyes, against the sun, when it didn't respond. "Charlie-"
"I beg your pardon, but I'm no Charlie." Jonathan said. He looked down on her feeling anything but an angel. Before she could scream, his hand was covering her mouth. -
His hands were very soft, as soft as a baby's bottom and smelled like flowers. She tried to scream, but it was muffled by his soft, good smelling hands. He let go and ran to the door to close it and clamped his hand over her mouth, giving her just enough time to take in just gulps of air. She dug her nails in his arms, but it hardly effected him, but she didn't give up. She started kicking, but he was on top of her before her legs could swing out again.
His hair was covering his eyes again as he struggled to keep her down. Long lashes were making shadows over his cheek bones. He let out a shaky breath before speaking. "I need you to trust me, Emma. Can you trust me enough?" His voice was low, smooth, and assuring to her.
She was struggling under his steel grip to get air. But she managed a shake of her head before black dots covered her vision.
"I'm here to help you..." was the last she heard. -
(I might let this one go. Start a new story. Or just stop making this one.)
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The angel was guiding a young girl, possibly seven, on black ice. His arm was around her back leading her to safety. To a green field, meters away. He was barefoot, wearing a white T-shirt and white jeans. The girl, a white, lace dress, also barefoot. The only color was his pale blonde hair. He leaned in close to her. "Don't look down." He whispered. His nose touched her fair hair. She looked up at the angel that balanced her awkwardly on the ice. "Why?" she asked softly.
"I can't tell you. Just don't do it." He walked slower now that the ice was cracking. Now, her nightmares were feeding on her fear, causing the ice to thin and crack. The young girl glanced down to see enough.
Emma awoke to the blazing orange sun shining in her bed room. Her whole body felt sore and there was hair plastered to her forehead from sweat.
A slim silhouette was sitting on her rocking chair reading Stuart Little. "I thought you would never wake up, sleeping beauty." He said still looking at the book. Sleeping beauty? Did he seriously just call me sleeping...beauty? she thought. Her thoughts were swirling for a moment before she just realized something. "My chores! Oh my god, my mom's going to kill me." She said swinging out of bed. She moaned, trying to forget the raw pain.
"Emma, stop. I finished them all, well, not the laundry." He was looking at her with great concern. He now felt like he did something wrong. As if maybe he invaded her-their-home.
"You." She hissed, but he was up faster than you could say your first name. -
Jonathan stood by the bed, waiting for her response. Only, she just looked at him for the longest time, as if he were a puzzle she needed to figure out. Her grey eyes studied him. She tilted her head a bit, "Why are you doing this, for me?" she blurted.
He walked up to the vanity across the bed, not looking at himself in the mirror. "I'm an angel. Sent to help you. But don't get a picture of God telling me to help you. No, that's not exactly what happened." He blinked.
He saw the bewilderment on her face, masked with confusion. The sun made sparks of red, on her usually brown locks, come alive from her hair, which distracted Jonathan. "I know. That's not a good start for a story, but I needed to start somewhere." He said quietly.
"Has anyone asked about me today?" She asked, abruptly. She really did feel lost and confused. It wasn't like an angel came to save you everyday.
"Okay, well, you see, the thing is, I made a clone of you. Angel powers, you know." He said wiggling his delicate, angel fingers. He saw her widen her eyes. "Look, the clone did your chores. It acted like you. It talked like you. Your siblings didn't say a thing. And she didn't say anything out of character." He assured her. To him, she seemed to understand this, but that's exactly what he expected. "I'll start from the beginning. My beginning. And then yours. Almost as story." He said sitting back down on the rocking chair. -
"I had a group leader-mentor. His name is Felix. Real nice guy..." He said trailing off. Jonathan thought of his Hollywood looks. Black hair, tousled most days, luminous green eyes, and dimples that showed with the slightest smile. "Anyways," He continued "he's the one who trained me to be a good angel, and eventually, he gave me my wings." He sighed, raking his fingers through his fine hair. Jonathan leaned back into the chair. "I struggled during my learning sessions, like a human child struggling in school." He had been slouching so he straightened up.
Emma seemed to be engaged in his mystical, yet, true story. She was now sitting crisscrossed, elbows on the insides of her knees. She was leaning forward in interest.
"I was given someone to take care of, to watch over. But not just anyone." He paused. "I was told to keep someone special safe. I bet you can guess how that is, right?" He asked, His dark blue eyes were now gleaming in the last rays of sunset. They looked lighter than their usual sapphire color.
Emma, who had been quiet the whole time, broke the streak. "Yeah. Me." She said softly. He nodded in response. There were shadows around the whole room. Even under his cheek bones.
"They showed me who you were, and what you are." He said.
Emma found this weird. The way the past tense and present tense was used in the same sentence. But she kept listening.
"Felix told me my mission. To live as an angel walking the earth, disguised as a human. But mainly to watch over you. Very angelic and stalkerish at the same time." He let out a low chuckle.
Emma couldn't help to laugh softly too. But there was something else. "Wait, so if your an angel, where are your wings?" She asked. "How do they look like?" She felt like she was taking her curiosity a little too far. He only smiled at her. "Your window can open, right?" He asked. -
Jonathan pulled the window open, with silent grace. He stepped out first onto the surrounding crab grass. Emma swung her leg over awkwardly along with her other following and slipped on to the grass. She trusted the angel now. But one question kept knawing at her, no, actually a few.
"So, about my wings," He said, adjusting his shirt. "There nothing special really. I mean, there cool and all at first, but you get used to them once their there." He tilted his head back, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Ready?" He asked through one sapphire gleaming eye.
Emma nodded. She had been waiting for a while actually.
He turned his back towards Emma, his face enlighten by the sun. His wings unfolded through his shirt, like magic. They stretched out at least six feet. Bronze coloring flecked the end of his wings that glinted as silver in the sun. She gasped at the beauty of him. He seemed stunning enough already, but with wings, he looked perfect. "So what do you think?" He asked, like a girl asking her friend about her new clothes.
Emma stared in awe. "They look so soft." But she would have said "They look so familiar."
He took her hand. "I need to show you something. Some place, actually." He said grinning. -
He ran, his feet seemingly to be touching the ground. He threw his head back laughing as the last sun rays of day slipped through the trees, creating little patterns on his all angles face. Jonathan's cheek bones looked more hollowed in the forest part of their land. Emma's family land.
Meanwhile, being half dragged behind Jonathan was Emma try to keep up and breath. As the branches caved in, they scraped her arms and face causing her to yelp in pain.
Jonathan's wings were still out, and finally, he used them, but not for flying. As they kept running, he pulled her next to him, his wings covered most her body. She gasped at his act of kindness. The branches stopped scratching at her face and there was now a little more clearing in the woods. And the farther they ran, the more the area cleared out.
Jonathan can to an abrupt stop, his eyes dark and gleaming, but searching for something. He toke a few deep breaths before he spoke, "Do you see it, Emma? You might not, but it's there." His sentence ending in a whisper.
"What's here?" She asked looking over his broad shoulder. All she could see was a clearing big enough for a small house. A house. A small one. Maybe..."Is it a house!?" She asked. Maybe it was something else. He turn sideways.
Jonathan looked at her with suspicion. "Maybe there is, maybe there isn't. Tell me, what do you see." He looked calmly.
"I don't see anything." She said softly. Emma now felt embarrassed.
He crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to the area. He put his hand on something round and for a second, just a second, Emma could see that it was a worn brass door knob. -
Jonathan:
Emma:
I think that I should find a picture of Jonathan with lighter hair. Preferably a lighter blonde. -
...This would do good. For Jonathan.
Ignore his weird looking arms.
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