Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Act

My school's last play performance was today, and the cast party, and I'm exhausted, but I still want to post something. So here goes- this is the beginning to a book I want to write, the first of a trilogy, titled The Act. I won't tell you anymore- so grip the edge of the monitor and read on. :)

Prologue: A Freak

Do you know who you are? Most people do; kudos to them.
I one of those few who don't.
Sure, I know the basics, the bare facts: my name is Jenna Walker, I'm fifteen, and I live at 49 250th Drive- talk about unoriginal- Tolobie, Montana. But that's just the crap that goes on passports and licenses, some of it, at least. I don't even know my birthday. When I was found, they guessed I was six- so for all that matters I could be sixteen. I don't have half a clue who my biological parents are, or who the heck screwed my deoxyribonucleic acid.
Maybe I should have mentioned that earlier.
I'll start at the bery beginning. About twenty years ago, scientists began fusing animal human DNA. Some wanted to prove evolution, while others said it was inhibiting our 'natural' changing. Anyway, the first few years were total disasters- most of the embryos died in days, or, at best, a few minutes after their artificial births. It's still a very rough science, but has more or less gained in popularity. Parents are purposefully making their kids part animal, whether so they'll be better athletes, or smarter (hah!), or prettier (who defines beauty anyway?).
I'm one of those pathetic life forms.
Yes, I consider myself pathetic. Why? That's a simple enough to answer.
I'm a freak.
Being one of us has its definite disadvantages- look at me. I mean, that must be why I was dumped off in the middle of a woods in rural Montana. My creators/parents/ mad scientists couldn't have wanted me anymore.
So think again if you know who your are, and consider those of us who have no clue.

Chapter 1: School- AKA Torture

I've never been to school in my life, so my first day was naturally going to be hell.
I was shaking by the time we reached the brown, brick building. I clutched my thrift-store backpack so hard that my knuckles were white. The cab of Charlie's car was warm and dry, an even greater incentive to stay there rather than face the cold and wet weather. But the many passing faces frightened me more than anything else.
Predators- every single one of them.
I was about to be shut inside a building with four hundred othe teenages. Not a very good combination for someone who's claustrophobic and afraid of people.
"You okay?" Charlie asked, switching off the engine. I could feel his worries eyes boring into me. I didn't[ have the strength to reply, even to my brother. "Got everything? Lunch money? Schedule? Locker number? Courage?"
"Where did we get the last one?" I asked. Bravery came so easily to Charlie, him being a Marine and everything.
He smiled, one of those you're-going-to-be-okay smiles that I remembered from the first moment I met him. "Hey, in a week, school will be a breeze."
Breeze. No way.
"I'm going to make you late." I realized, glancing at the clock. Charlies answered 9-1-1 calles, though Tolobie didn't have a lot, with a  population of around eight hundred.
"Go get 'um, tiger."
Tiger. Huh. I certainly didn't feel like a tiger.
I slid out fo the cab, scanning my perimeter.
Predators- all around me.

That's all I have time for, so... yeah. Maybe I'll add more later. No, Jenna at this point is not Christian in any way, shape, or form. Let's just say she has problems with the concept of God. For that matter, she has a lot of problems...
I'm sorry if I offended anyone with my casual use of hell or crap. It's Jenna's POV. I'm sorry.
Goodnight everyone. I plan on sleeping very deeply tonight. :)

2 comments:

  1. Interesting plot line. I enjoyed reading it! You did really well in the play, by the way.

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  2. Hi Rachel, this is an interesting start to a story. I'm curious to know exactly what Henna looks like, or what unique characteristics she has because of her animal DNA. She's definitely a good lead.

    So reading your story and hearing about a few others from students gave me an idea, and figured this would be a good place to pitch it.

    Here's the idea: an online group of PCCA students, faculty, and friends where members can "battle" with short story. We'll call it Short Story Club. Below is a more complet pitch:

    THE RULES


    • You don't talk about the Short Story Club offline, ever. (This keeps it interesting, and fair for those members who may not be at school.)
    • You have to be invited by a Short Story Club member to join Short Story Club (but anyone can be invited, and we encourage invitations)
    • Members engage in “Short Story Battles” (see below for details)
    • Short stories have to be clean and appropriate for our audience.
    • This is for fun, not “profit.” While we certainly hope to sharpen our skills, this isn't a writing class.

    THE SHORT STORY BATTLE
    • Two member square off and each one writes a short story. (moderators will pick match ups or you can challenge another member.)
    • Once both short stories are posted all the other members pick the winner based on the following criteria.
    • Plot (Which story is more interesting?)
    • Character (Which story has the best character(s)?)
    • Language (Which story flows better and makes the most sense? Which one uses language best).
    • Other criteria can be added or these can be clarified (I'm open to suggestions!)

    What do you think, want to help me get it started? I've already got a google group setup at: https://groups.google.com/group/short-story-club. If you're interested then visit that link and request membership. Then let's spread the word.

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