Two days ago I started putting together the first chapter of a story. I am continuing it today, and whilst doing so, I thought I'd post here for critique.
If it helps you create a standard, I am 12 years old and am in a 'highly advanced' English class at school :3
This story isn't animal crossing related and possibly came to my mind after watching and reading far too much X-men and after feeling the urge of creativity. Thank you, and please enjoy :3 This is just a draft, by the way ;u;
If it helps you create a standard, I am 12 years old and am in a 'highly advanced' English class at school :3
This story isn't animal crossing related and possibly came to my mind after watching and reading far too much X-men and after feeling the urge of creativity. Thank you, and please enjoy :3 This is just a draft, by the way ;u;
Only human
“Hey, creep!” he yelled across the cafeteria, jokingly elbowing his friends whilst waiting for me to reply. It was never a proper day at Grange creek high school without Mark Hilley picking on someone.
Mark Hilley is the school jock, and a bully to those who are somewhat clever and don’t hang out with him or the populars. To me, he isn’t a bully. He’s an idiot who actually has the strength and IQ of a squirrel.
I sighed, and turned around. “Oh, you’re talking to me?” I said, pretending to be surprised.
He and his friends laughed, along with the girls on the chairs around him.
“Who else would I be talking to?” he scoffed.
“Well, I have a few ideas in mind,” I started. “I just thought you were suggesting nicknames for yourself and your little friends.”
Silence spread across the room, and as much as he tried to cover it, Mark Hilley was ashamed and distressed. He didn't know what else to say because usually, no one responds to his taunting ways. Not only was it practically written on his forehead, I knew what he was thinking. And I knew what everyone else in the room was thinking too: ‘She never stops, does she?’
Mark got back to his food and his sporty discussion, and as the minds of the girls thought about their boyfriends and mall trips, I thought to myself ‘Why is my life so clich??’
Actually, I was quite a lucky person. In most films, the big-headed jocks, being Mark and his friends, and the popular girls, being the girls around Mark that probably can’t remember their names, pick on the nerd who falls to the floor, knocks their textbooks out of their hand and the nerd then realises they’re a victim to bullying.
But I didn’t do things the way anyone else did. In fact, I was not like anyone else at all. I wasn’t a nerd, I was just slightly more intelligent than others and kept to myself. And I didn’t even wear glasses or carry my text books in my hand. If anything, I was just slightly antisocial. I mean, kill me for not being bothered about relationships or overexcited about wearing skirts the size of a tissue, but expectations were too high in a place full of such morons.
After the coincidence at recess, I walked to maths.
I didn’t like maths.
Although I was quite good at it, it isn’t in any way stimulating to learn, and second, my teacher was always suspicious of everyone. He never said it, but I knew what he thought.
Near Mr. Drewsby’s maths classroom was my locker. I twisted the handle as the blue door opened, and out fell my textbook. As it fell to the floor, inches from the ground, it was saved by a mysterious hand.
Don’t look, I thought to myself. So without making eye contact with the person, I thanked them, slammed my locker door, grabbed my textbooks and headed to class. I didn’t catch a single glimpse of his or her face, I didn’t hear their voice. It was best that way.
As I looked down at the floor, power walking to class, I bumped into something. Not too hard, but hard.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going, creep?” A voice bellowed.
After he spoke, I knew what I had bumped into and it could have only been Mark Hilley himself.
“Can you watch where you’re going, you idiot?” I yelled.
He was still thinking about how I shamed him earlier that day, and he was angry about it. Not only did I shame him but I also shamed his lady friends.
“What did you just say?” he said, shocked by my harsh response.
“Oh, you heard me Mark. If you didn’t, then I suggest that you get your ears checked, and you might as well get your brain checked whilst you’re at it.”
In the background, groups of friends and couples nudged each other, making an ‘oooooohhhhhhhh’ sound. The one where people mean to say ‘ooooh, burrrnn.’
“Listen up, nerd, no one speaks to me like that, especially freaks like you.”
The word freak echoed in my head. It’s only a word, I told myself. Get over it already.
But I was not about to get bullied by Mark Hilley. I am and was not a freak.
I grabbed him by the collar of his top, and shoved him against the lockers. As his legs dangled high in the air, I said “I believe I just did.”
I let go of his top, put him down, and walked to class, ignoring the dent in the lockers.
I had possibly just blown my cover and I walked away without a care in the world.
I listened carefully to the voices inside everyone’s heads’ and almost all of them were thinking ‘who is she?’
I am Rosaline Woodrow and I am not human. I am not the shy girl you think I am and I am not afraid of anything. I do not stop and I never will. I am the unknown.
Mark Hilley is the school jock, and a bully to those who are somewhat clever and don’t hang out with him or the populars. To me, he isn’t a bully. He’s an idiot who actually has the strength and IQ of a squirrel.
I sighed, and turned around. “Oh, you’re talking to me?” I said, pretending to be surprised.
He and his friends laughed, along with the girls on the chairs around him.
“Who else would I be talking to?” he scoffed.
“Well, I have a few ideas in mind,” I started. “I just thought you were suggesting nicknames for yourself and your little friends.”
Silence spread across the room, and as much as he tried to cover it, Mark Hilley was ashamed and distressed. He didn't know what else to say because usually, no one responds to his taunting ways. Not only was it practically written on his forehead, I knew what he was thinking. And I knew what everyone else in the room was thinking too: ‘She never stops, does she?’
Mark got back to his food and his sporty discussion, and as the minds of the girls thought about their boyfriends and mall trips, I thought to myself ‘Why is my life so clich??’
Actually, I was quite a lucky person. In most films, the big-headed jocks, being Mark and his friends, and the popular girls, being the girls around Mark that probably can’t remember their names, pick on the nerd who falls to the floor, knocks their textbooks out of their hand and the nerd then realises they’re a victim to bullying.
But I didn’t do things the way anyone else did. In fact, I was not like anyone else at all. I wasn’t a nerd, I was just slightly more intelligent than others and kept to myself. And I didn’t even wear glasses or carry my text books in my hand. If anything, I was just slightly antisocial. I mean, kill me for not being bothered about relationships or overexcited about wearing skirts the size of a tissue, but expectations were too high in a place full of such morons.
After the coincidence at recess, I walked to maths.
I didn’t like maths.
Although I was quite good at it, it isn’t in any way stimulating to learn, and second, my teacher was always suspicious of everyone. He never said it, but I knew what he thought.
Near Mr. Drewsby’s maths classroom was my locker. I twisted the handle as the blue door opened, and out fell my textbook. As it fell to the floor, inches from the ground, it was saved by a mysterious hand.
Don’t look, I thought to myself. So without making eye contact with the person, I thanked them, slammed my locker door, grabbed my textbooks and headed to class. I didn’t catch a single glimpse of his or her face, I didn’t hear their voice. It was best that way.
As I looked down at the floor, power walking to class, I bumped into something. Not too hard, but hard.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going, creep?” A voice bellowed.
After he spoke, I knew what I had bumped into and it could have only been Mark Hilley himself.
“Can you watch where you’re going, you idiot?” I yelled.
He was still thinking about how I shamed him earlier that day, and he was angry about it. Not only did I shame him but I also shamed his lady friends.
“What did you just say?” he said, shocked by my harsh response.
“Oh, you heard me Mark. If you didn’t, then I suggest that you get your ears checked, and you might as well get your brain checked whilst you’re at it.”
In the background, groups of friends and couples nudged each other, making an ‘oooooohhhhhhhh’ sound. The one where people mean to say ‘ooooh, burrrnn.’
“Listen up, nerd, no one speaks to me like that, especially freaks like you.”
The word freak echoed in my head. It’s only a word, I told myself. Get over it already.
But I was not about to get bullied by Mark Hilley. I am and was not a freak.
I grabbed him by the collar of his top, and shoved him against the lockers. As his legs dangled high in the air, I said “I believe I just did.”
I let go of his top, put him down, and walked to class, ignoring the dent in the lockers.
I had possibly just blown my cover and I walked away without a care in the world.
I listened carefully to the voices inside everyone’s heads’ and almost all of them were thinking ‘who is she?’
I am Rosaline Woodrow and I am not human. I am not the shy girl you think I am and I am not afraid of anything. I do not stop and I never will. I am the unknown.
I walked into maths trying to keep a straight face. I kept thinking about Mark Hilley and his reactions so far today. As I sat down, everyone stared at me. Either they saw what happened, or they were told. Ignoring the stares, I sat down with a smile as I usually do when I'm being stared at.
As Mr. Drewsby made mathematical mistakes and droned on about algebra that I already knew about, I decided to recount the day in my head. All I could think about was Mark's reactions. They played in my head like a song on loop. I laughed inside, and the next thing I knew, not only were the students looking at me, so was Mr. Drewsby.
"Miss Woodrow, would you like to share with us what is so funny?" he asked casually.
"Nothing much sir, just... you pointed out something incorrectly." I said in hurry. My excuse was quite true though.
"Would you mind telling me where, Rosaline?"
"You said that x was 12, but it is 15."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Thank you for your contribution, Rosaline."
I nodded politely and started writing.
The moment I had been waiting for was here, the moment the torturous maths lesson would end. The bell rang and students stampeded out of the classroom.
As the beautiful sun of the lunchtime sky stood high in the air, I took out my sandwiches and ate. As my sandwich gradually became smaller and smaller, my hands shook. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d done before maths.
Would someone like Mark know who I am? He’s too thick to understand. He once called a pigeon an American eagle.
But what if everyone else who saw knew I was different.
My hands shook to a point where my lunch fell out of my hand. Then a mysterious hand grabbed it and I realised that it was the same person who caught my textbooks.
“Your hands seem to be very slippy.” The guy said. He didn’t speak in a deep, robotic tone like most boys I had spoken to. He spoke quite softly, but it was manly either way. His brown fringe dropped beneath his blue eyes.
“Yeah, I seem to be all thumbs today.” I said back.
“So that was pretty impressive, how you stood up to that jerk earlier.” The boy brought up.
“Oh god, can you forget about that already? It’s no big deal.” I yelled, breathing shakily.
“I know you’re scared about what you’ve done because you don’t want people to know who you really are.” He said, looking into my eyes.
“How did you-” I started, only for the boy to interrupt.
“Because you’re not the only one with secrets around here.” He said. And as he removed his hand from my shoulder, I looked up, and he was nowhere to be seen. I looked around and he was so far away. So far, that no human could get there in such short time.
I concentrated back on my lunch and he was there again.
“See.” He told me, quite boastfully.
He walked away, slowly this time, and I yelled out “Who are you?”
To which he replied “The unknown.”
I decided to leave him as I don't get ivolved with people. As they say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'
It's the best way to live.
As lunch came to an end, I made my way to my next lesson. We had English with Miss Hearly.
English was one of my favourite subjects, merely because I was always teachers' pet and was a star at it. Miss Hearly liked me especially, and I liked her too.
As I sat down in my desk, I was given the same stares as the ones that I'd received after walking into maths.
"Hey, Rosaline." Craig Driff greeted. Not Craig, I thought. Craig was very intelligent and a bit of a nerd, making him a bit of a target to the jocks. He questioned and saw anything. He was the last person I wanted witnessing my 'fight' with Mark Hilley.
"How did Mark Hilley make that dent in the locker?"
"I don't know, he's a big guy." I shrugged.
"No one in the school is heavy enough to make a dent that size in a locker."
"Well, you are an expert on being pushed into lockers after all, however I do not know how that dent was made."
"I think you do, Rosaline."
"Yes, I do. I took mixed martial arts as a child." I lied.
"How does that explain the dent?"
"It doesn't."
"Then why did you bring up martial arts if it isn't a valid explanation?"
"To let you know that if you don't get away from me, I can and will kick your ass, and it will hurt you bad."
He laughed mockingly. "Oh dear, the lying freak is going to kill me, run everyone."
"What did you say?" I said, grabbing him by the shirt.
"I said that you're a lying freak." he repeated, gulping.
Not again, I thought to myself. Don't do it, Rosaline. Don't.
As I closed my eyes, the desks and chairs rose up in the air, as well as almost everything else in the room. Papers blew violently around, and screams filled my ears. I threw him against the wall, and he let out a small squeak. He wasn't dead and he was conscious. He was still moving.
I didn't want to be the bad guy, but Craig gave me no choice.
"I told you it would hurt." I said, meanwhile running out of the room.
I kept on running, but had no idea where to go.
I ran into a tall figure. It wasn't Mark Hilley, thank goodness, but it was someone else. The fast figure who saved my dropped items twice in a day.
"Look, you're coming with me." He said. He grabbed my arm and ran faster than the wind. I could make out the rows of lockers, arranged in a neat blue blur. In fact, everything was a blur, I could tell when we left the building but I couldn't tell where I was or where we were going. Minutes later, we were in an unfamiliar place. It was a tall building further in the city. A skyscraper that was stories high.
"Where are we?" I asked violently, however quietly. I didn't know where we were. There were far too many skyscrapers in the city to identify which one we were in. Especially the ones without logos.
"It's very complicated." The fast figure told me.
"Then uncomplicate it." I demanded.
"We're in the headquarters of Talented youth training. It's where kids like us are trained to use our powers as much as we want while helping others."
"I'm not interested in being part of a Power rangers spin-off, thank you very much." I said.
"Yes you are." He insisted. "Stay."
As we sat on cosy chairs, silence grew. I was curious, so I broke the silence quite quickly. I knew that he didn't want me to ask questions, and he wanted me to make sure I knew that.
"So how did you know I had powers?" I asked.
"You'd have had to be born yesterday not to know that."
"So you're saying that our school was born yesterday?"
"Pretty much." He shrugged.
"Hm." I mumbled. "Fair point."
From the corner of my eye I saw him smile. I hoped he knew I was being serious.
"Do you know what my powers are?" I asked.
"I know you're telekinetic. I saw that in English." He started, whilst deeply thinking.
"And..."
"I know you have advanced strength and I identified advanced combat skills too."
"And..."
He paused. "There's more?"
I nodded. "Telepathy."
"Well someone has their ass covered for life." he muttered.
"What are your powers?" I asked him.
"Well, I have advanced speed." He started.
"Yeah, I think I grasped that one." I scoffed.
"Was it me catching your lunch?" He sighed.
"It was quite obvious Mr. Fast Food." I laughed, raising a brow.
"Mr. Fast Food. I like it." He nodded.
"Yeah yeah, anything else?"
"Oh, yes, I'm also manipulative." He said.
"You didn't think about that one. I didn't know." I said, surprised.
"Oh right, you know everything I'm thinking anyway." He said disappointedly, sad that he'd never get a private thought again.
We stopped talking to each other for a while. Mr. Fast Food was thinking about my powers.
As Mr. Drewsby made mathematical mistakes and droned on about algebra that I already knew about, I decided to recount the day in my head. All I could think about was Mark's reactions. They played in my head like a song on loop. I laughed inside, and the next thing I knew, not only were the students looking at me, so was Mr. Drewsby.
"Miss Woodrow, would you like to share with us what is so funny?" he asked casually.
"Nothing much sir, just... you pointed out something incorrectly." I said in hurry. My excuse was quite true though.
"Would you mind telling me where, Rosaline?"
"You said that x was 12, but it is 15."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Thank you for your contribution, Rosaline."
I nodded politely and started writing.
The moment I had been waiting for was here, the moment the torturous maths lesson would end. The bell rang and students stampeded out of the classroom.
As the beautiful sun of the lunchtime sky stood high in the air, I took out my sandwiches and ate. As my sandwich gradually became smaller and smaller, my hands shook. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d done before maths.
Would someone like Mark know who I am? He’s too thick to understand. He once called a pigeon an American eagle.
But what if everyone else who saw knew I was different.
My hands shook to a point where my lunch fell out of my hand. Then a mysterious hand grabbed it and I realised that it was the same person who caught my textbooks.
“Your hands seem to be very slippy.” The guy said. He didn’t speak in a deep, robotic tone like most boys I had spoken to. He spoke quite softly, but it was manly either way. His brown fringe dropped beneath his blue eyes.
“Yeah, I seem to be all thumbs today.” I said back.
“So that was pretty impressive, how you stood up to that jerk earlier.” The boy brought up.
“Oh god, can you forget about that already? It’s no big deal.” I yelled, breathing shakily.
“I know you’re scared about what you’ve done because you don’t want people to know who you really are.” He said, looking into my eyes.
“How did you-” I started, only for the boy to interrupt.
“Because you’re not the only one with secrets around here.” He said. And as he removed his hand from my shoulder, I looked up, and he was nowhere to be seen. I looked around and he was so far away. So far, that no human could get there in such short time.
I concentrated back on my lunch and he was there again.
“See.” He told me, quite boastfully.
He walked away, slowly this time, and I yelled out “Who are you?”
To which he replied “The unknown.”
I decided to leave him as I don't get ivolved with people. As they say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'
It's the best way to live.
As lunch came to an end, I made my way to my next lesson. We had English with Miss Hearly.
English was one of my favourite subjects, merely because I was always teachers' pet and was a star at it. Miss Hearly liked me especially, and I liked her too.
As I sat down in my desk, I was given the same stares as the ones that I'd received after walking into maths.
"Hey, Rosaline." Craig Driff greeted. Not Craig, I thought. Craig was very intelligent and a bit of a nerd, making him a bit of a target to the jocks. He questioned and saw anything. He was the last person I wanted witnessing my 'fight' with Mark Hilley.
"How did Mark Hilley make that dent in the locker?"
"I don't know, he's a big guy." I shrugged.
"No one in the school is heavy enough to make a dent that size in a locker."
"Well, you are an expert on being pushed into lockers after all, however I do not know how that dent was made."
"I think you do, Rosaline."
"Yes, I do. I took mixed martial arts as a child." I lied.
"How does that explain the dent?"
"It doesn't."
"Then why did you bring up martial arts if it isn't a valid explanation?"
"To let you know that if you don't get away from me, I can and will kick your ass, and it will hurt you bad."
He laughed mockingly. "Oh dear, the lying freak is going to kill me, run everyone."
"What did you say?" I said, grabbing him by the shirt.
"I said that you're a lying freak." he repeated, gulping.
Not again, I thought to myself. Don't do it, Rosaline. Don't.
As I closed my eyes, the desks and chairs rose up in the air, as well as almost everything else in the room. Papers blew violently around, and screams filled my ears. I threw him against the wall, and he let out a small squeak. He wasn't dead and he was conscious. He was still moving.
I didn't want to be the bad guy, but Craig gave me no choice.
"I told you it would hurt." I said, meanwhile running out of the room.
I kept on running, but had no idea where to go.
I ran into a tall figure. It wasn't Mark Hilley, thank goodness, but it was someone else. The fast figure who saved my dropped items twice in a day.
"Look, you're coming with me." He said. He grabbed my arm and ran faster than the wind. I could make out the rows of lockers, arranged in a neat blue blur. In fact, everything was a blur, I could tell when we left the building but I couldn't tell where I was or where we were going. Minutes later, we were in an unfamiliar place. It was a tall building further in the city. A skyscraper that was stories high.
"Where are we?" I asked violently, however quietly. I didn't know where we were. There were far too many skyscrapers in the city to identify which one we were in. Especially the ones without logos.
"It's very complicated." The fast figure told me.
"Then uncomplicate it." I demanded.
"We're in the headquarters of Talented youth training. It's where kids like us are trained to use our powers as much as we want while helping others."
"I'm not interested in being part of a Power rangers spin-off, thank you very much." I said.
"Yes you are." He insisted. "Stay."
As we sat on cosy chairs, silence grew. I was curious, so I broke the silence quite quickly. I knew that he didn't want me to ask questions, and he wanted me to make sure I knew that.
"So how did you know I had powers?" I asked.
"You'd have had to be born yesterday not to know that."
"So you're saying that our school was born yesterday?"
"Pretty much." He shrugged.
"Hm." I mumbled. "Fair point."
From the corner of my eye I saw him smile. I hoped he knew I was being serious.
"Do you know what my powers are?" I asked.
"I know you're telekinetic. I saw that in English." He started, whilst deeply thinking.
"And..."
"I know you have advanced strength and I identified advanced combat skills too."
"And..."
He paused. "There's more?"
I nodded. "Telepathy."
"Well someone has their ass covered for life." he muttered.
"What are your powers?" I asked him.
"Well, I have advanced speed." He started.
"Yeah, I think I grasped that one." I scoffed.
"Was it me catching your lunch?" He sighed.
"It was quite obvious Mr. Fast Food." I laughed, raising a brow.
"Mr. Fast Food. I like it." He nodded.
"Yeah yeah, anything else?"
"Oh, yes, I'm also manipulative." He said.
"You didn't think about that one. I didn't know." I said, surprised.
"Oh right, you know everything I'm thinking anyway." He said disappointedly, sad that he'd never get a private thought again.
We stopped talking to each other for a while. Mr. Fast Food was thinking about my powers.
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