Post by inomztietuseoe on Dec 19, 2005 20:57:30 GMT -8
Ok...... I've been working on a fantasy series since I was eight, and I am almost finished with the first book, but still fixing minor plot flaws. Here's an idea I had to replace the other first chapter, which started the story directly when Destiny (the main character) was fourteen. This is a dream that she has when she is fourteen, recalling the time shortly before her sister Margaret's disappearance. I'm wondering if it should be a dream or not.... Any suggestions on what I could add or take out would be greatly appreciated. There's probobly a few spelling and grammar mistakes too, but.... you get the idea. This was originally the first two chapters, that I recently added to the outline of the book I wrote four years ago. I think there are a few extra hyphens in there too, I copied this text from a hyphenated Microsoft Word file I had up.
Destiny Fibra always wished that her older sister Margaret was still alive. She didn’t know why she died, but she did vaguely remember what her sister had looked like. Destiny remembered her sister having short, thick, dirty-blonde hair, but that was many years ago, and she couldn’t remember much more. Destiny knew a little of Margaret from when she was still on school, she knew that Margaret had played the cello in concerts at the Jr. High School sometimes. Destiny also recalled that she was going to learn how to play the cello to, and be instructed by her sister when Margaret had finished school.
Destiny refused to accept her parent’s offers to pay for private lessons, until they would tell her what caused Margaret’s death. Besides, Destiny didn’t want to be taught by anyone but the person who had promised her lessons all of those long years ago.
What Destiny was most upset about was that, on the day of Margaret’s death, no one seemed the slightest bit mournful. This confused Destiny, but it was not strange to the rest of the family. Destiny had only been six years old when this happened, but she knew that disappearances like this were not uncommon in the Fibra family.
(Authors note:
(I think that now would be a good time to tell you the original prologue to this book. (Some of this does not apply to the book you have in your hands, but to the much older concept, of the original books.) :
(Destiny Fibra was from a very old family, who had al-ways lived for an amazingly long time. Actually, they would simply vanish for a while, then, when believed to be dead, they would turn up again, eating breakfast at their house, or something like that.
Little did Destiny know of the things they were doing during those strange vanishings. She knew even less about where they went, or why she hadn’t just disappeared herself, yet. If only she had known that her questions would soon be answered, that within a month, she would vanish herself. If only she had known that she was special. She could have stopped the strange wonders that had consumed her best friends. If only, she had known about the dragon…..)
Destiny’s cousin Stephanie also disappeared when Des-tiny was very small. Stephanie wasn’t really Destiny’s cousin, but she was a Fibra and the closest thing to a sister Destiny had after Margaret’s death. Stephanie was Destiny’s foster cousin and acted as her foster sister after Margaret. Destiny didn’t know if she would rather have Margaret or Stephanie alive if she had the choice.
Destiny could tell that her family knew something that she didn’t about these deaths. So, Destiny followed her instincts and did not mourn for her sisters unless she was sure that she was completely alone.
Destiny’s mourning had the potential to depress her, but she was kept happy partly by her friends and partly by the motive to find out more about the annual family disap-pearances.
Her two best friends were Amber Oakland, a very pas-sive girl in public but extremely talkative in friendly company, and Dixie Robin, a very outgoing and fun-loving girl who was younger that Amber and Destiny.
Destiny also had a little brother, Mike. Mike didn’t ever know Margaret or Stephanie very well (he wasn’t even four years old when they died). Mike loved to pry into other people’s business, he loved to snoop, so, he collected walkie-talkies and double A batteries for a hobby. He placed these in different places every day and recorded what he heard on his computer, later burning the recording onto CDs that he kept in his closet. He tried to be secretive about what he found out, but wasn’t ever very good at keeping his mouth shut. Destiny loved to tease him about this.
It was a beautiful Summer’s day, and five-year-old Destiny Fibra couldn’t believe what her parents were suggesting to her.
"Summer tutoring?” Destiny questioned her parents in curiosity.
“Yes, Destiny.” Said Destiny’s mother. “Your father and I feel that it’s best for you now.”
“Help for little brans!” exclaimed Destiny’s three-year-old brother, Mike.
“That’s 'brains', sweetie.” Mom corrected sweetly, placing Mike’s sippy cup back on his tray.
Destiny’s fourteen-year-old sister Margaret had just swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “Actually, I think he wants you to pour his cereal for him, Dad.”
“Huh? What’d you say Marg?” Destiny’s Dad jerked out of his usual morning daze in the next room.
“Help! Help!” shrieked Mike, furiously knocking the box of Sugar Brans off of the table with his pudgy finger-tips.
“I’ll take care of him.” Mom implied, picking the box up, which was instantly snatched by Mike, who began shaking it violently.
“Do you know what ‘tutoring’ is, Destiny?” Dad yawned into his daily newspaper.
“Isn’t it when you go to a faraway place and pay for someone to show you everything?”
“No. No. No. You’re thinking of ‘touring’, Dusty-Knees.” Margaret teased. Tutoring is for stupid people who need extra school!”
“Margaret! Don’t say the ‘S’ word until you’re eighteen!” Dad chortled, smacking her weekly on the head with his newspaper as he made his way to his normal seat at the table, his toast already cooling on a plate.
“Stuart, how many times do I have to tell you?” Mom snapped. “You need to be firm with your discipline on her. Otherwise, you won’t make any impression!”
“School?” Destiny questioned, with a slightly worried sound to her voice. “But Dad I don’t go to kindergarten for a few more months. How do you know if I need help or not?”
“We just want you to get a bit of a head start before you start school sweetums.” Mom sighed with a forced smile on her face.
Margaret flipped Destiny’s napkin off of the table top, and they bumped heads under the table as they both tried to reach it. In a very soft whisper, Margaret murmured, “Don’t worry. I had to do the same thing when I was your age.”
Once breakfast was over and Margaret had caught the bus to school, Destiny stayed in her room, writing in her diary and thinking about that morning. She eventually dozed off and was awoken by a quiet knocking on her door. She opened her blue eyes gently and asked who was there.
“Dusty-knees? Can I come in? I want to talk to you about what happened during breakfast.”
“It’s unlocked.” Destiny shrugged. “Go away.” Margaret opened the door rather noisily and sat down on a bow for a How-To-Understand-Everything-Your-Dog-Is-Trying-To-Tell-You kit that Destiny had gotten for Christmas the year before.
“You’d better pick up all of the junk in here.” Margaret pointed out. “Magpie’s coming over tomorrow, she’ll have a fit if she sees your room like this.”
“…And if Maggie has a fit, Mom will join in.” imputed Destiny dreamily, rolling her pale grey eyes.
Maggie Woods was Destiny’s least favorite person in the whole span of her life. She was, as her parents would tell everyone, the perfect young lady. She was Destiny’s age, but extremely good at intimidating the bravest of men, She was tall, pretty, talented, and very demanding of other people. On top of that, she was the only child of Destiny’s Dad’s boss. He owned the local preservative establishment.
Although Destiny loathed Maggie so much, she was forced to stay on very good terms with her, for the sake of her father’s job. Maggie was a neat-freak and the whole house had to be inspected by her every time she came for a visit.
Once Margaret had left the room, Destiny started to uninterestedly pick up some of the crumpled papers on her floor. Once she had stuffed all of the trash under her bed (which was a very difficult task, due to the fact that she stuffed thrash there every time Maggie came), she realized that Margaret hadn’t seemed to want to talk about that morning. Destiny walked out of her half-cleaned room to look for Margaret. She found her sister in the living room, practicing her cello.
“Whaddidyawanna talch ‘bout?” Destiny tried to ash her sister, through a mouthful of banana that she had picked up in the kitchen. Then, Destiny’s Dad poked his head over the back of the couch, startling Destiny. She accidentally swallowed an enormous mouthful of squished banana and, af-ter she had realized that she couldn’t breathe, she started gagging loudly and turning a nasty violet color. Margaret was the first to do anything.
“Dusty-Knees!” Margaret shrieked, dropping her cello, which acquired a large hole in the process. She tripped over to Destiny and clumsily tried to help her using the Heimlich maneuver, her bow still in her hand. “C’mon, Donkey Kong! Breathe! Please!”
Meanwhile, Dad had sprang to his feet and rushed to the telephone. “I’ll call the emergency room!” he shouted, jumping from one foot to the other in front of the dial. He nervously picked up the phone and started dialing. “Nine…. Nine….. One…….” He mumbled to himself. When he put the phone to hic ear, he heard nothing but a dial-tone. He shakily swore in a nervous breath and tried again continu-ously. “Nine…. Nine…. One! C’mon! Nine…. Nine…. One! Stupid, useless, piece of junk!” he grumbled, knocking the machine to the floor. “…….Can’t even help in a simple emergency!”
“It’s ‘Nine, one, one!,’ Dad! Now, hurry!” shouted Margaret, still trying to help destiny.
“Right.” Dad groaned, staring at the disconnected receiver at his feet. The need for an ambulance subsided that second, when Margaret thrust the frog of her bow into Destiny’s stomach, forcing vomit to splat on the wood floor.
Then, the vomit started steaming and bubbling as if it was boiling! Destiny, still very pale and gasping for breath, stared in annoyance at the swelling bubble in the center of the puddle. She had been seeing this bubble everywhere for a few months now. Destiny knew what was coming, and thrust her eyes open quickly. A split second before the last of the living room melted into a tiled ceiling, she yelped at what the grotesque illusion had revealed.
Destiny Fibra always wished that her older sister Margaret was still alive. She didn’t know why she died, but she did vaguely remember what her sister had looked like. Destiny remembered her sister having short, thick, dirty-blonde hair, but that was many years ago, and she couldn’t remember much more. Destiny knew a little of Margaret from when she was still on school, she knew that Margaret had played the cello in concerts at the Jr. High School sometimes. Destiny also recalled that she was going to learn how to play the cello to, and be instructed by her sister when Margaret had finished school.
Destiny refused to accept her parent’s offers to pay for private lessons, until they would tell her what caused Margaret’s death. Besides, Destiny didn’t want to be taught by anyone but the person who had promised her lessons all of those long years ago.
What Destiny was most upset about was that, on the day of Margaret’s death, no one seemed the slightest bit mournful. This confused Destiny, but it was not strange to the rest of the family. Destiny had only been six years old when this happened, but she knew that disappearances like this were not uncommon in the Fibra family.
(Authors note:
(I think that now would be a good time to tell you the original prologue to this book. (Some of this does not apply to the book you have in your hands, but to the much older concept, of the original books.) :
(Destiny Fibra was from a very old family, who had al-ways lived for an amazingly long time. Actually, they would simply vanish for a while, then, when believed to be dead, they would turn up again, eating breakfast at their house, or something like that.
Little did Destiny know of the things they were doing during those strange vanishings. She knew even less about where they went, or why she hadn’t just disappeared herself, yet. If only she had known that her questions would soon be answered, that within a month, she would vanish herself. If only she had known that she was special. She could have stopped the strange wonders that had consumed her best friends. If only, she had known about the dragon…..)
Destiny’s cousin Stephanie also disappeared when Des-tiny was very small. Stephanie wasn’t really Destiny’s cousin, but she was a Fibra and the closest thing to a sister Destiny had after Margaret’s death. Stephanie was Destiny’s foster cousin and acted as her foster sister after Margaret. Destiny didn’t know if she would rather have Margaret or Stephanie alive if she had the choice.
Destiny could tell that her family knew something that she didn’t about these deaths. So, Destiny followed her instincts and did not mourn for her sisters unless she was sure that she was completely alone.
Destiny’s mourning had the potential to depress her, but she was kept happy partly by her friends and partly by the motive to find out more about the annual family disap-pearances.
Her two best friends were Amber Oakland, a very pas-sive girl in public but extremely talkative in friendly company, and Dixie Robin, a very outgoing and fun-loving girl who was younger that Amber and Destiny.
Destiny also had a little brother, Mike. Mike didn’t ever know Margaret or Stephanie very well (he wasn’t even four years old when they died). Mike loved to pry into other people’s business, he loved to snoop, so, he collected walkie-talkies and double A batteries for a hobby. He placed these in different places every day and recorded what he heard on his computer, later burning the recording onto CDs that he kept in his closet. He tried to be secretive about what he found out, but wasn’t ever very good at keeping his mouth shut. Destiny loved to tease him about this.
It was a beautiful Summer’s day, and five-year-old Destiny Fibra couldn’t believe what her parents were suggesting to her.
"Summer tutoring?” Destiny questioned her parents in curiosity.
“Yes, Destiny.” Said Destiny’s mother. “Your father and I feel that it’s best for you now.”
“Help for little brans!” exclaimed Destiny’s three-year-old brother, Mike.
“That’s 'brains', sweetie.” Mom corrected sweetly, placing Mike’s sippy cup back on his tray.
Destiny’s fourteen-year-old sister Margaret had just swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “Actually, I think he wants you to pour his cereal for him, Dad.”
“Huh? What’d you say Marg?” Destiny’s Dad jerked out of his usual morning daze in the next room.
“Help! Help!” shrieked Mike, furiously knocking the box of Sugar Brans off of the table with his pudgy finger-tips.
“I’ll take care of him.” Mom implied, picking the box up, which was instantly snatched by Mike, who began shaking it violently.
“Do you know what ‘tutoring’ is, Destiny?” Dad yawned into his daily newspaper.
“Isn’t it when you go to a faraway place and pay for someone to show you everything?”
“No. No. No. You’re thinking of ‘touring’, Dusty-Knees.” Margaret teased. Tutoring is for stupid people who need extra school!”
“Margaret! Don’t say the ‘S’ word until you’re eighteen!” Dad chortled, smacking her weekly on the head with his newspaper as he made his way to his normal seat at the table, his toast already cooling on a plate.
“Stuart, how many times do I have to tell you?” Mom snapped. “You need to be firm with your discipline on her. Otherwise, you won’t make any impression!”
“School?” Destiny questioned, with a slightly worried sound to her voice. “But Dad I don’t go to kindergarten for a few more months. How do you know if I need help or not?”
“We just want you to get a bit of a head start before you start school sweetums.” Mom sighed with a forced smile on her face.
Margaret flipped Destiny’s napkin off of the table top, and they bumped heads under the table as they both tried to reach it. In a very soft whisper, Margaret murmured, “Don’t worry. I had to do the same thing when I was your age.”
Once breakfast was over and Margaret had caught the bus to school, Destiny stayed in her room, writing in her diary and thinking about that morning. She eventually dozed off and was awoken by a quiet knocking on her door. She opened her blue eyes gently and asked who was there.
“Dusty-knees? Can I come in? I want to talk to you about what happened during breakfast.”
“It’s unlocked.” Destiny shrugged. “Go away.” Margaret opened the door rather noisily and sat down on a bow for a How-To-Understand-Everything-Your-Dog-Is-Trying-To-Tell-You kit that Destiny had gotten for Christmas the year before.
“You’d better pick up all of the junk in here.” Margaret pointed out. “Magpie’s coming over tomorrow, she’ll have a fit if she sees your room like this.”
“…And if Maggie has a fit, Mom will join in.” imputed Destiny dreamily, rolling her pale grey eyes.
Maggie Woods was Destiny’s least favorite person in the whole span of her life. She was, as her parents would tell everyone, the perfect young lady. She was Destiny’s age, but extremely good at intimidating the bravest of men, She was tall, pretty, talented, and very demanding of other people. On top of that, she was the only child of Destiny’s Dad’s boss. He owned the local preservative establishment.
Although Destiny loathed Maggie so much, she was forced to stay on very good terms with her, for the sake of her father’s job. Maggie was a neat-freak and the whole house had to be inspected by her every time she came for a visit.
Once Margaret had left the room, Destiny started to uninterestedly pick up some of the crumpled papers on her floor. Once she had stuffed all of the trash under her bed (which was a very difficult task, due to the fact that she stuffed thrash there every time Maggie came), she realized that Margaret hadn’t seemed to want to talk about that morning. Destiny walked out of her half-cleaned room to look for Margaret. She found her sister in the living room, practicing her cello.
“Whaddidyawanna talch ‘bout?” Destiny tried to ash her sister, through a mouthful of banana that she had picked up in the kitchen. Then, Destiny’s Dad poked his head over the back of the couch, startling Destiny. She accidentally swallowed an enormous mouthful of squished banana and, af-ter she had realized that she couldn’t breathe, she started gagging loudly and turning a nasty violet color. Margaret was the first to do anything.
“Dusty-Knees!” Margaret shrieked, dropping her cello, which acquired a large hole in the process. She tripped over to Destiny and clumsily tried to help her using the Heimlich maneuver, her bow still in her hand. “C’mon, Donkey Kong! Breathe! Please!”
Meanwhile, Dad had sprang to his feet and rushed to the telephone. “I’ll call the emergency room!” he shouted, jumping from one foot to the other in front of the dial. He nervously picked up the phone and started dialing. “Nine…. Nine….. One…….” He mumbled to himself. When he put the phone to hic ear, he heard nothing but a dial-tone. He shakily swore in a nervous breath and tried again continu-ously. “Nine…. Nine…. One! C’mon! Nine…. Nine…. One! Stupid, useless, piece of junk!” he grumbled, knocking the machine to the floor. “…….Can’t even help in a simple emergency!”
“It’s ‘Nine, one, one!,’ Dad! Now, hurry!” shouted Margaret, still trying to help destiny.
“Right.” Dad groaned, staring at the disconnected receiver at his feet. The need for an ambulance subsided that second, when Margaret thrust the frog of her bow into Destiny’s stomach, forcing vomit to splat on the wood floor.
Then, the vomit started steaming and bubbling as if it was boiling! Destiny, still very pale and gasping for breath, stared in annoyance at the swelling bubble in the center of the puddle. She had been seeing this bubble everywhere for a few months now. Destiny knew what was coming, and thrust her eyes open quickly. A split second before the last of the living room melted into a tiled ceiling, she yelped at what the grotesque illusion had revealed.
