An original story

Good Afternoon, my newly-acquired Fakku family. =]

Everyone has dreams and aspirations (why yes, there is a board with that name) and mine was always to write. However, I have no idea if I have any talent at all. I don't know if I suck or not, so, that's why I was wondering if you guys could honestly tell me if I was any good. Now, please be honest. I can take criticism, and I promise I shan't hold a grudge or anything against you even if you say "You suck. Give up." I mean, I can't be good at everything, and I want to know if I'm good at this.

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Introductions aside, let me tell you a tiny bit about the story. I only have the first few pages done, and so I can and might change this drastically, but nonetheless...



That might not be a very good preview, but I don't really know what else to write. Anyway, I'd like to present to you the beginning of the first chapter! =D I'd post the prologue but I haven't written it. I want to write it after the rest of the novel, when I can get a proper idea of what the main theme is and such things.

P.S. Please read it with an extremely bitter and sarcastic tone

First Chapter

[code:1]First Chapter

I can honestly say that I have no idea what was going through my mind whilst walking up the stairs that led to the hallway my classroom was located upon. Judging by the fact that I was more than an hour early for the first day of school, you’d probably think that I had awoken too early due to the excitement which I just couldn’t contain any longer. I just couldn’t wait any longer, and I just had to be in school. No, perhaps that may be true for any other student in this school at this time, (not that I’d seen any,) but I’m terribly sorry to say that I’m not that kind of overachiever. The real reason for my early arrival was because I had only decided to attend the first day of school when I’d have usually gone to sleep – around five in the morning. Knowing that if I tried to take a quick nap before school began I’d be unable to wake up, I had decided to just get ready at five and arrive whenever I’d arrive. Well, even after dragging my feet an awful lot, this was the result.
I sighed upon seeing only the empty classroom staring back at me as I opened the door. It wasn’t out of surprise. I mean, I didn’t expect anyone else to be here at this time; who would? It’s probably what I’m known best for; sighing, I mean. Well, either that or my long, multi-coloured hair. Maybe I’ll tell you about that later; interested?
Whilst I walked to the back-window seat, I think the only thing passing through my mind was regret. The regret of showing up today, the regret of still attending this school, the regret of not being eighteen – not being legally able to drop out without my parents consent. I sighed once more as I took off the black messenger bag slung over my shoulder and put it down next to the seat, before sitting down myself.
Why should I do this? Why should I have to sleep in this uncomfortable position for another two years? Why should I have to listen to old men and women drone on endlessly about things I’m certain, certain, that no one cares about? Why should I have to be trapped inside a small room with some thirty or so other people, out of whom I’d be lucky if I could even call one †˜friend’? I know what you want to say, “It’s for your own good,” “It’s for your future,” “It’s education! That all it is!” None of that is true, and you know it. Compulsory education, the great dumbing down. I think there’s a book about that; haven’t read it yet, though. I guess I’ll have to one of these days.
Forgive me; I drifted from my original topic. My point was that, if I really cared about these topics, I’d actually learn about them by myself at home. Maybe not by myself- hmm… … gah, what am I talking about?! Whatever, look, the only thing an old man will do to any interesting topic is kill it. I’ve always figured that if people don’t want to learn, they won’t. It doesn’t matter if they’re stuck in some sort of prison with only books and other students for entertainment, or if they’re left by themselves on the streets. Won’t the result be the same? If someone is truly interested in something, then they’ll study it without any help. If they want the help of old men, then I believe that, yeah, it should be available, but by no means should it be mandatory. Forcing help upon one who doesn’t want it is more than just useless – it’s counter-productive. Give a man a fish and you blah blah blah, you all know the saying. I’d just like to say that it’s not true. Give a man a fish and you’ve just prolonged his miserable existence another day. Teach a man how to fish and, well, it’s useless if there’s no pond. So, what’s my solution, do I hear you asking? Look, it’s easy to find faults in others arguments – that’s exactly what I did. To actually build up your own is far more tiring. It requires this funny little thing called “work”. I’ve never been much good at that, you know.
Oh my, have I drifted from my topic again? I don’t even remember what I was talking about originally. I guess what I was trying to say is that when it comes to education, it doesn’t occur in a classroom. It occurs with a book, a notebook, a fountain pen, and a dimly lit room. Notice I didn’t mention any old man lecturing. Education doesn’t have to be in a desk with other students, it can just as easily be in your bed by yourself, or perhaps on the floor with your best friend. Even then, that’s only for certain subjects and even for those, your education still won’t be complete. If you want to learn something, you also have to spend time actually experiencing what it’s about. It’s useless to know all the theory in the world if you don’t know how to actually use it.
At the very least, that’s what I used to believe at the time. I guess my opinions have changed since that time when, after getting a book out of my bag to use as a pillow, I decided it was finally time to catch up on some sleep. It was the first day anyway; nothing important was going to happen. Besides, what good would it be if, after so painstakingly coming to school, I couldn’t retain anything due to a lack of sleep? It was for the best. It would be a while before the other students showed up; I just hoped that they’d be courteous enough not to wake me.

The classroom began to grow louder and louder as times passed, but that I ignored. Eventually the noise died down, and a single voice took dominance over the rest – home room must have started; that, also, I ignored. A bell rang, and that I ignored. Again, the class room burst out in noise, but thankfully, by that time I was sleeping quite soundly, so that, also, I was able to ignore. However, that tickling on my arm, no matter how soft, I was unable to ignore.
My sleepy eyes slowly opened, but all I could see was my long hair which had fallen over my face. I sat up, stretching my right hand and, with my left hand, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Staring idly out of the window, sitting in front of me, was a girl with mostly black hair that came just past her shoulder on her right side, but half way down her upper arm on the left. Her hair was parted on the right, the visible roots at the part being dyed blonde with several streaks going down to the rest of her hair, fading into a red and then eventually into black. I understand if it’s not really your thing, but personally I really like Jamie’s hair. It must have been that porcelain-like finger of her slowly moving up and down my arm that had caused the tickling.
Noticing my movement, Jamie turned away from the scene outside the window, and instead her eyes focused on me. “Good morning, sleeping beauty;” she greeted me without any sign of a smile or the sarcasm which I really hope was present. Yeah, that’s ok, Jamie, make fun of the kid that’s too tired to be able to come up with any good retorts. It’s too early for this, and you know that as well as I.
My response was a blink of my tired eyes.
Jamie smiled weakly, but that smile quickly faded as she sighed and stared out of the window again. “I’m glad we’re in the same class this year,” she stated. You know, Jamie, if you sigh and stare out the window with that depressed face, you won’t seem very sincere at all about your being †˜glad’. Perhaps you should work a bit on your honesty?
“No, I’m being perfectly honest,” Jamie replied whilst shaking her head softly, yet still staring out the window with a melancholic look on her beautiful face. “It’s just that…” she hesitated slightly, before sighing deeply again. Hey now, it’s your hair that’s your defining feature; the sighing is mine, please don’t confuse the readers. “I guess that it’s just because school’s started again. There goes the days when I could choose my own company. I don’t want to be around…” again, hesitation. Jamie’s features seemed genuinely depressed as she turned to view the rest of the class, making her point without her having to say anything more. I entirely agree, I thought to myself whilst hearing one of the particularly loud classmates of mine give off an awfully annoying and high-pitched scream of delight. I guess the days of quiet have finished haven’t they?
“They’re not as bad as you’d make them out to be,” a bitter smile, “You should admit that there have to be several students that pique your interest if even just a little,” oh no, that smile’s turning awfully mischievous, “come now, see that girl,” Jamie nodded toward a girl whom, upon looking at her, I noticed was exceptionally beautiful, “her name’s Kyla. I used to be really good friends with her two years ago, don’t you think that I could…?”
I blushed somewhat, staring at Kyla’s ches- no, her face, before realizing my shameful act and turning suddenly back to face Jamie. “Hey,” for the first time that day I actually voiced myself, “I-I don’t thi-“
“Ah- you can’t do that,” Jamie interrupted my words as her smile faded and instead her face once more adopted the emotionless features I was so used to seeing upon this girl.
I opened my mouth to ask what she was talking about, but before a single sound came out of my mouth, Jamie pressed her left index finger tightly against her lips, obviously a sign telling me to be silent. Understanding what she meant, I gave up on trying to say anything (not that I was putting forth a whole lot of effort before or anything) and instead tilted my head to the side slightly, something I often did when confused. Why, pray tell, was I not to speak? Class wasn’t in session and I was the only one Jamie was paying any attention to, so there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it.
Jamie sighed deeply, as if to say that explaining would be a pain best left unfelt. “Hey, you know how at the beginning of every year,” that tone and pace Jamie used whilst talking just highlighted her boredom far more than my words could ever describe, “In the first homeroom session, we always have to introduce ourselves, right?” I nodded. “This year was no different. We were allowed to choose our seats and, once we had all settled down, each one of us was to say our name and a random fact about ourselves, just so we’d know more than a single name. Eventually it was your turn. Mind you, you were last because of where you had sat yourself, but you weren’t awake, so I covered for you.” Jamie stopped talking there, for some reason or another thinking her explanation would suffice. However, noticing my still-tilted head, Jamie gave me a look as if to ask how it was that I hadn’t caught on yet, before continuing, “I told everyone you had taken a vow of silence so you couldn’t introduce yourself, and then said your name.”
Wait, what?
Are you telling me that I’m not allowed to speak at all? Furthermore, how can you confess such sins without showing a single shred of remorse?! Jamie, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time, how old were you when your heart froze over? Actually, since it’s you, you probably weren’t born with one to begin with. Not that I should be talking.
“Hmm? I don’t understand, I thought you’d be happy.” Jamie frowned, further highlighting her exasperated tone. “You never talk to anyone that hasn’t received your golden seal of approval (I still remember the day I got mine,) well, not unless you’re dating them, and you finally have a reason not to. Are you going to tell me I did something wrong? Besides, I didn’t go into detail at all about your vow. You could just say it’s something like †˜until I realize my most important dream’ or even claim that for some sort of experiment in which you wanted to see how you could get on for a week without talking or some other useless thing like that; it’s not that bad at all, is it?”
Ah- come to think of it, you have a very good point. I paused for a while and showed a thoughtful face as I contemplated the situation I had been thrust into, and then I laughed ever so slightly. Oh my, I didn’t have to play along with her at all, did I? No, I could just tell everyone that she was just joking, that I honestly was just sleeping, hence why I couldn’t answer (honesty is the best policy and all of that, right?) but, did Jamie not make a very good point? The idea of not having to communicate at all with any student in this class – wait, no, I’d still have to communicate with them, I just couldn’t talk to them – nevertheless, the idea of not having to talk to anyone in this class, it interested me. Why, quite honestly, I’ve always dreamed of – well, not †˜always’. Hmm… - for a long time I’ve dreamt of not having to talk to all these people I’d been forced into a class with. Things like saying a simple “Good morning,” to everyone when you enter, saying “Thank you,” as a handout is passed back, having to answer questions about how your day has been or anything like that, it’s such a bother. Why should I pretend that all these strangers are actually my friends? Is being forced to spend time in the same room as everyone supposed to give us a feeling of intimacy? I’ve been placed in this class without my will. I’ve been placed within this school without my consent (that last part’s not entirely true, by the way). I never actually wanted any of this, so if I’m being given a chance to discard, no, to diminish the responsibility of being a member of this class even slightly, shouldn’t I jump at it and hold on with all my strength?
Oh, did I forget to mention? I’m the tiniest bit anti-social.
†˜K,’ I wrote on a piece of notebook paper which was on my desk, before showing it to Jamie whilst giving a slight nod and smile. I know, if I voiced myself so much over this topic to you, couldn’t I have at least spared more than a single letter for her? No, that’s just not whom I am. The way I’m talking right now, it’s full of sarcasm. The words I adopted when I began speaking of Jamie are those of a carefree young man (or some other joyous person I am not), but I do hope you realize that my tone is far from that. If you could actually hear my voice through all this writing, then you’d be able to tell how bitter and scornful I still am about this entire existence without my having to point it out to you; but right now, all you have are my words, not my tone neither my meaning. At least for now, until you get to know me, I should point out things like the tone I would use for certain situations.

Come to think of it, I never introduce you to Jamie, did I? Well, you’ve already seen a tiny bit of her, but I guess I’ll humor us both by giving a formal introduction.
The girl sitting in the seat in front of me is Jamie Richardson. I don’t know her middle name, or even if she has one. Her natural hair colour is a golden brown, but she started dying her hair soon after I become friends with her – soon after I gave her my golden seal of approval, as she put it earlier. Jamie and I attended the same middle school, and I guess that technically we met in our sixth year of school when, for the first time, we were in the same class. However, back then both of us were very different people so we didn’t talk at all. It wasn’t until last year, our tenth year of school, that we actually began to talk – which, since we’re discussing about me here, is an equivalent to when we became friends – not that I like throwing that word around. I’d sigh if I could, but how would I get that across to you? Concerning how exactly we began talking to one another… well, I don’t feel like telling you right now. Her fashion sense out of school usually consists of tops with my two favorite colours, pink and black, with either a pair of jeans or a skirt. In school she wears the girls’ uniform consisting of a white button-up shirt, black blazer and black skirt. She always has a pink studded belt and a pair of shorts that she wears under her skirt, though, which set her aside slightly from the way the rest of the girls dress, as does the fact that her tie is usually missing.
When it comes to personality, I guess that Jamie lacks one for the most part. Usually Jamie has an apathetic or unemotional look on her face (aren’t they the same thing?) and it’s rare for her to have any mood other than bitter, mischievous or none at all. I think that if push would every come to shove, Jamie would show strong emotional ties to the rest of us, but most of the time, she doesn’t treat her friends much differently than the rest of her acquaintances, except she wouldn’t miss a chance to make fun of or tease a friend, while she wouldn’t joke at all with a simple acquaintance. Although Jamie’s personality isn’t the most flowery, she does have several highlighting features, most evident of which is her looks. Otherwise, I guess Jamie is good to have around since she won’t really get on your nerves too quickly, considering she’s usually rather quiet. If in my peer circle you’re expecting the type of people that love to run around and scream like maniacs, then I’m awfully sorry to be a disappointment. I guess that because of her style, her fashion sense and her always-apathetic mood, most people tend to label Jamie as †˜Emo’, but personally I don’t believe in that particular stereotype; we’ll refrain from labeling her as such, okay?[/code:1]

I was actually wondering if people would understand what was going on in the part you highlighted. ^^; What I was trying to point out is how Anthony is really eloquent, but doesn't say all that much himself. What you bolded is what Anthony is saying to the readers, not to Jamie. The only time Anthony verbally says anything is this part.



I do understand your concern, though, and I'll edit it slightly later. Thanks for the advice, means a lot. =]