Post by Noah Hyuga on Jan 31, 2008 15:17:09 GMT -5
I've decided to write a short story of my own. Although it has nothing to do with the site. It starts out pretty normal as you'll see, but then it will get kinda weird. ANyways, heres the prologue and a teaser of the 1st chapter. 
Prologue: Repenting Believer
The streets outside were bone chillingly silent as a boy around the age of eighteen
sat quietly in the tree outside staring blankly at the sky above in deep thought. The tree was obviously old as the bark was falling and the bench around its base was eroded and warped. The darkened grass ended in a peculiar circle around the tree. The houses around were completely unlit except for the house behind him which had one light on in the front left window of the house. The streets were completely bare even with the gas stations on the corner completely lit and operational. The boy sighs and jumps down out of the tree. At this you can see he was of average height with dark eyes and untidy brown hair. He looked no more than a normal teenage boy of eighteen. As he walked back towards his house however he stops and looks at the shadow that had suddenly appeared in the lit window. He watched carefully, narrowing his eyes in avid mistrust and dislike. Then he enters the house.
All is silent for while. The occasional car would pass by slowly, its engine echoing into the distance. The moonlight shown dimly around the block, bathing everything in a slight blue aura. Then, slowly and silently, the door to the house opens and the boy returns, a cello case and two large backpacks slung over his shoulders and what appears to be a bible sticking out of one of the pockets. He starts up the dark road looking back once as if to change his mind, then a shout can be heard from the lit room in the house from which he had just left. He narrowed his eyes again and kept walking into the distance. The street grew silent again and nothing appeared on the street all night.
In the morning, shouts and screams could be heard from the house the boy had left. Though by this point, the boy would be far too far away for them to do anything. The family was in a panic and searched for days, but found no clues as to where he might have gone. Through this, one family member in particular seemed more angry than worried. He seemed to care little about where the boy had gone and more about why the cello had disappeared from the boy’s room. Though through all the searching, the family never found the boy. The police helped while they could and friends and other family members helped in the search, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Eventually, the excitement of the disappearance quieted in the small city and the boy was pronounced dead on December 14, 2007.
Two weeks later….
The streets outside were bone chillingly silent as a boy around the age of eighteen
sat quietly in the tree outside staring blankly at the sky above in deep thought. The tree was obviously old as the bark was falling and the bench around its base was eroded and warped. The darkened grass ended in a peculiar circle around the tree. The houses around were completely unlit except for the house behind him which had one light on in the front left window of the house. The streets were completely bare even with the gas stations on the corner completely lit and operational. The boy sighs and jumps down out of the tree. At this you can see he was of average height with dark eyes and untidy brown hair. He looked no more than a normal teenage boy of eighteen. As he walked back towards his house however he stops and looks at the shadow that had suddenly appeared in the lit window. He watched carefully, narrowing his eyes in avid mistrust and dislike. Then he enters the house.
All is silent for while. The occasional car would pass by slowly, its engine echoing into the distance. The moonlight shown dimly around the block, bathing everything in a slight blue aura. Then, slowly and silently, the door to the house opens and the boy returns, a cello case and two large backpacks slung over his shoulders and what appears to be a bible sticking out of one of the pockets. He starts up the dark road looking back once as if to change his mind, then a shout can be heard from the lit room in the house from which he had just left. He narrowed his eyes again and kept walking into the distance. The street grew silent again and nothing appeared on the street all night.
In the morning, shouts and screams could be heard from the house the boy had left. Though by this point, the boy would be far too far away for them to do anything. The family was in a panic and searched for days, but found no clues as to where he might have gone. Through this, one family member in particular seemed more angry than worried. He seemed to care little about where the boy had gone and more about why the cello had disappeared from the boy’s room. Though through all the searching, the family never found the boy. The police helped while they could and friends and other family members helped in the search, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Eventually, the excitement of the disappearance quieted in the small city and the boy was pronounced dead on December 14, 2007.
Two weeks later….
Chapter 1: Sabbath Day Sorrow
The sound of a piano filled the chapel as the whole of the people in the seats sang about the flesh and blood of the son of god. The chapel had a homey feel to it and smelt of fresh pine. The platform on which the piano was being played was raised about two feet from the rest of the seats in the chapel with a wall built with a stair case on either side of the center wall.
Upon this raised platform sat the pianist playing elegantly as well as a man in a grey-white beard and spectacles waving his hands to the time of the music. He was slightly off, however a fair few were watching him. There were also a significant number of chairs, with none but a few in the first row filled. All were older men around their thirties with the exception of a small girl sitting in the second seat from the center. She was not singing, but instead standing silently looking at the floor, tears falling silently down her face and dripping to the floor.
Upon this raised platform sat the pianist playing elegantly as well as a man in a grey-white beard and spectacles waving his hands to the time of the music. He was slightly off, however a fair few were watching him. There were also a significant number of chairs, with none but a few in the first row filled. All were older men around their thirties with the exception of a small girl sitting in the second seat from the center. She was not singing, but instead standing silently looking at the floor, tears falling silently down her face and dripping to the floor.
