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AffinityWriter — Affinity: Chapter One
Published: 2010-07-09 10:51:38 +0000 UTC; Views: 201; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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Chapter One:
Memories
"Don't let her doooowwwwnnn. Facing this world upside down…"
"Ugh," My cell phone's alarm blared. "Shut up." I smacked the phone quiet. I rolled over and squeezed my eyes shut. I needed a few extra seconds of sleep. I'd had my recurring dream. A now familiar voice repeated like a broken record in my head.
"I'm coming for you. I'm coming, I promise. Trust me." And then a flash of deep emerald green would burn itself into my memory.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows and swept my mousy brown bangs out of my eyes. I looked around at my room. White walls, one collaged with faded and yellowed sheet music. Three sheets outlined with black frames. The soundtrack of my dreams, the music that played over and over in my mind, right now. An acoustic guitar sat alone in the corner. I rolled out of my bed and drug myself across the small room to the closet. I flung the door open and snatched out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a thin cotton Nirvana t-shirt. Yeah, I was one of those punk-kids. I changed clothes and zombie walked downstairs. I need Lucky Charms. Bad.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," My mom burst from the living room, warbling at the top of her voice. Carrying three presents.
"Aw, Mom, you know I don't like presents." I whined and threw myself down at the kitchen table. I looked up at my mother. The only connection I had to the real world. Sans her I would be totally introverted. She's beautiful, dark complexion, dark hair, and cerulean blue eyes. I know I must take after my father. My paler than pale skin, light hair and violet eyes were nothing like her.
"I know, sweetie. But, I do!" She laughed and shoved the first gift into my hands. I smiled weakly and shook the flat box hopefully. The wrapping paper tore easily, but the masking tape proved to be a bigger challenge. A kitchen knife solved the problem and I peeled apart the thin cardboard. Under the tissue paper lay the same vintage Apocalyptica shirt I'd been admiring for weeks.
"Thanks Mom!" I enthusiastically hugged her and held the shirt up. She reached behind her and pulled out torture item number two. I tucked away the tee. The next two presents revealed a few books I'd been wanting, Great Expectations and Dracula. I was a sucker for the classics.
"You're welcome, Honey," My mom smiled. "But, if you don't get going, you'll be late for school, happy eighteenth birthday, Grace." She patted my back as I got up and walked over to the hall closet, slipped on my shoes, threw my bag over my shoulder, and exited the house. I would never return to that little house, the one that never quite felt like home.
"You make it sound like the story gets sad when I come." Damien pouted from behind me. He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Stay 'outta my head, Masen." I shot snarkily at him. I didn't miss a beat in my painting.
"Not on my life." He chuckled and dabbed paint on my nose.
"Get. Get out, now." I turned around and began shoving him toward the door of the sun-room. It was a feeble attempt. He resisted easily, spinning us so that I was backing toward the door. "Seriously, this wolf is not going to paint itself."
"But, I wanted to talk to you."That was it. I caved. I would talk to D until Hell froze over and Heaven burnt to the ground. I instantly sank to one of the floor cushions intermittently scattered across the floor. He followed suit and sat in the one next to mine.
"Okay, shoot."
"Are those the last memories you have as a human?" He met my eyes with caution in his gaze. Why was he so guarded about my memories? Had something happened that was imperative that I remember?
"Well, no, I remember you quite well." I laughed. He took my hand.
"Do you? What do you remember about me?"
I remember:
"Hello, my name is Damien Masen. I believe you belong with me?" He reached toward me. And any other intelligent person would have floored it in the other direction. But not me, I felt this strange polarity kick in. I did belong with him. I stepped closer and took his hand.
"That's all I remember." I returned his intense stare.
"I see," He looked relieved. Why? "I'm glad you remember a little of me before…"he trailed off.
"Before I was changed, Damien . It's not a bad thing." Damien had changed me in more ways than one. He'd changed me from mortal to immortal, Human to Vampire, and from a nobody to a somebody. His somebody.
I also had an amazing family because of him. I had two amazing parents. Marcus and Meryenne. A big brother, Hunter, and his wife and mate, Indie. I had a brother of equal age, Jacob, his mate, who is also my age, Sydney, and a little brother, Alex and his mate, Brea.
We are all mated pairs, and we are all vampires. But even the already irregular vampires have their own irregularities. Some of our kind has special gifts, or powers. Take my father, Marcus, for example, he has the ability to bend the mother planet to his will. He's an Earth Bender. His wife, Meryenne's power might not be accounted in everyone's books as something substantial. But, to me, it was a Godsend. Meryenne has the gift of Soul Sight. She can see your hearts deepest desire. Love. She can even see that one person who matches you completely. She is responsible for every one of us being together. I thank her every day for that, internally, I should tell her everyday externally but, I feel that she would tire of it eventually. My older sister, Indie, is a dream walker. She can visit people's dreams. It's come in handy before, by way of awful practical jokes. Damien can read your thoughts, if he knows your name. If he knows who you are he can tell you what color underwear you wearing if you think about it. I am gifted as well; I have the ability to see spectres, spirits. It's my choice whether I see them or not. So, my "gift" just sits, dusty, on the back shelf of my mind. The most formidable "power" possessed by one of my family members belongs to my young sister, Brea. She can manipulate fear, and pain. It's all mental of course. She's only making you think that you're terrified or incapacitated with excruciating pain.
"I know it's not a bad thing. But, it can't be a particularly good thing for you either." He stood, dragging me with him. He met my eyes once more and kissed me.
You know that feeling you get, in the pit of your stomach when something just isn't right? Like every breath you breathe never actually makes it to your lungs? Don't get me wrong I love my new life. But, on some nights, I wake up, deep, emerald green, flashing in my mind. It makes me uneasy. Like there is something I should remember about my past that the transformation burned away. For some reason, this jump-start wake up call seems familiar. It's been a year and a half since my change. Hunting gets easier. It's not as daunting as it used to be. A year ago, I would have starved or eaten berries and mushrooms in the stead of killing another sentient being. It hardly bothers me anymore. But, Hunter, he has the most trouble out of all of us. He will hunt and then be emo for the next three days. It gets worse sometimes. If the victims are particularly, for lack of a better word, vocal. He'll fast himself to near-starvation then, he'll kill savagely. These things move in circles.
It's been a year, and still, every time I look at my brother, Jacob, there's a spark of familiarity.
I should know him. The eyes? His voice? I should remember that. It should be recognizable.
Every time I see or speak to him my heart flutters, then stills with anticipation. Would I remember this time? No. I never do.
"Hey, Grace?" flutter. "Everyone was wondering if you were close to being finished up here?" Jacob, in his own way, was downright good looking. Dark brown curls and deep, emerald eyes. That always stirred up something in my gut. And the uniform alabaster pale skin "And might be up for a small hunting trip?" still.
"Uh-hmm, y-yeah, I'm nearly through here, I'll be down in…five minutes?" I began putting the last touches on the painting. Closing containers of paint as I went. Throwing brushes into the water pale at my feet. I had been too deep in thought to realize that Will had left me. I checked my watch. Bollocks! I'd been up here for three hours! I need to get my head set on straight. I left the piece on the canvas, picked up the bucket, threw a used hand-towel over my shoulder and left the sun room behind J- him.
"Hey, artiste," Indie, my favorite sister teased when I got downstairs. She licked her finger and rubbed the paint off of my nose. My sister was a vision. She was clearly gifted with more than Dream Walking. Shoulder length blond hair, met the same cerulean blue eyes of my mother. I walked over and hugged her. "It's been all day. What can you possibly be working on that is that time-consuming?"
"A wolf, of all things." Damien scoffed as he entered our spacious living room. The walls were a burnt tan color, with dim lighting and dark brown furniture. Nothing too wow-worthy. It kind of reminded me of a dentist's office. Formal, and comfortable.
"Well, you know we'd love to see it once it's complete." Meryenne, always mothering, intervened. "I'm sure it's great, Hon." She smiled warmly. Her auburn locks falling just past her ears. Her green eyes, I knew, saw straight through me. She was one of my favorite people. She taught me everything I know about everything. With the help of Marcus, who sat next to her on the couch. Thankfully, he was born with the same unremarkable hair color as me. He wore his hair in even curtains on either side of his face. Framing his cobalt eyes and snowy skin. He was the head honcho, the Boss and we all looked to him as our father. And we all loved him. He put all of us old enough through college – several times. We learned what we wanted. And never wanted anything.
"Are we leaving now?" A high pitched trill echoed throughout the room.
"Hey, Brea." I took the hand of my younger sister in welcome. Her blonde curls hung sassily about her southern blue eyes and pouty red lips. She reminded me of Shirley Temple. And I had to laugh. If Shirley Temple was a murderous, blood-thirsty vampire, and fifteen.
"What's the joke?" Alex asked as he entered the room behind Brea. So, Meryenne jumped the gun a bit with these two. But, Alex was dying with leukemia. It was then or never. Alex, was your typical beach-boy. Light brown hair with blond highlights. Ocean eyes, and like all of us, had the same granite complexion.
"Nothing, I just cracked myself up." I explained and ruffled his hair.
"Will, you quit that?"He grimaced as he smoothed his mop and took Brea's hand."Come on, she's a bad influence." Alex pulled Brea a few steps before she stopped. I could see the mischievous gears turning in her head.
"So it would annoy you if I did THIS!" She pounced and mussed his hair.
"AW, COME ON, BREA!" He let go of her hand and jumped away. After straightening his hair again. He took Brea's hand again and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and walked with him to sit on the couch next to Meryenne and Marcus.
"Indie, psst." I whispered. "Where is Hunter?"
"Moping, he'll be down in a few." She assured me. But the concern in her eyes gave her away.
"Are you sure? Maybe I should go talk to him?" I made a move to go upstairs.
"So, are you guys ready to go, then?" Hunter was making his way down the stairs. I looked to Damien expectantly. He nodded discreetly. Hunter would be alright. He'd gotten things controlled in his mind. We were ready to hunt.
"So, we'll pair off and rendezvous back here. Got it? We should be able to do this in about an hour or so. I love you guys" Marcus smiled and then winked as Meryenne grabbed his hand and took off, full tilt.
"Yeah, okay, so I guess Hunt and I will take Texas." Indie also took Hunter's hand and exited the clearing.
"Sydney and I will go to Oklahoma." They too joined hands and left.
"Brea, you and Alex should hunt with us. We'll all go to Louisiana." We grabbed our partners' hands—which is just something that vampire couples do while running—and left the clearing deserted. The reason we hunt so far apart, is obviously to conceal our true identities.
It wasn't a long run to our chosen state. When we arrived we ducked into the slums and found a few hobos to munch on. Nobody anyone would notice. When all of us were sated we jogged lazily back to the clearing/rendezvous point.
We were the first one's back. So we all sat under a tree and waited for the rest of our family to arrive.
Hunter and Indie showed not fifteen minutes later. Also full and tired. They sat with us under the tree and began the waiting game.Hunter looking crestfallen down at the ground while Indie whispered hopeful thoughts into his ear. Meryenne and Marcus arrived a little while later. Took their seats and talked quietly to each other.
"Something's wrong." Damien jumped to his feet and booked it to the edge of the clearing. Stumbling to meet him was Jacob. He was carrying my sister in his arms. Cradling her against his chest. And tears seeped down his face. He laid her gently down on the dewy morning grass. Jacob stepped away from Sydney and to my side. I heard a faint growl escape Damien's throat. I looked into Jacob's eyes. And remembered.
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Comments: 2
Take none of this personally, this is strictly from a professional view!
Hmm... I do think it's an interesting story. At least you did use your own powers (nothing in this world is original, but you did use them in original ways). I do like the dreamwalker power, and how you said it made for some nasty practical jokes. Lol. I find that fun.
Now, I would get onto you for going with the very done-to-death vampire stories... haha, but it wouldn't be the first time someone jumped on the bandwagon. I'm leaving it to you not to turn this into one of those "cut-and-paste", plotless vampire romances. (No offense. I just see it done a lot, and no one seems to be doing anything original with it, or going on the old Irish/anything else vampire myths. People focus on the modern too much.)
Sentence fragments are to be used sparingly. Yeah, yeah -- English teachers will tell you they are NEVER to be used. But there are some things that are supposed to be taken in context, not in any other way.
Beginning sentences with a conjunction is one example of a fragment, and I think it is great when used for effect -- like what you did in the end: "I looked into Jacob's eyes. And remembered." I love that. It's very nice. It gives a bit of a chilling feeling to me. In other places it seems a little off. Proceeding it with a comma looks a tad choppy, so I would suggest either joining them into a whole sentence, find a way to make two complete sentences, or eliminate the comma.
And before I forget -- in a sentence such as this:
"You're welcome, Honey," My mom smiled. "But, if you don't get going, you'll be late for school, happy eighteenth birthday, Grace."
"my" in my mom should be lower cased, as it's still part of the same sentence. With that, eliminate the comma after "but" and make "Happy eighteenth birthday, Grace" its own sentence. Makes for a cleaner read.
"Are we leaving now?" A a high pitched trill echoed throughout the room.
Her auburn locks falling fell just past her ears.
There are a few bits I don't quite understand.
Namely, this:
"Hey, Grace?" flutter (???). "Everyone was wondering if you were close to being finished up here?" Jacob, in his own way, was downright good looking. Dark brown curls and deep, emerald eyes. That always stirred up something in my gut. And the uniform alabaster pale skin. "And might be up for a small hunting trip?" still (???).
Bit confusing, mostly just the punctuation, a few parts where it seems your computer nom'd up some words and left some bits and pieces from the whole.
Oh, and I'm sure you know this: text walls are unfun. When someone starts to speak, they get their own paragraph (and some nice drapes as a housewarming gift). This usually means, online, pressing enter twice instead of once to separate different paragraphs. And when they finally stop yapping, a new paragraph starts after their following action. Example:
"I'm going whether you like it or not," she spat. The girl then turned on a heel and stormed off.
"Wait!" called her mother. "At least take your backpack."
Something like that. (I have no idea what's going on with Miss Attitude, but she decided she was to be my example.) It makes for easier reading, harder to lose your place.
There are a few places where some punctuation was missed and I think I saw just spelled "jus t" -- a very easy thing to mess up. That space bar is too big for its own good, ne?
And I don't know if I said it yet, but a comma goes before the ending quotation mark if it is followed by something like "said Watson", "Holmes scoffed", "Lestrade smiled", "laughed Mary" -- things of that nature. (Of course you're not writing a Sherlock Holmes fanfiction, but names are names are names are names... haha.)
Oh, comma after "so" here --
"So it would annoy you if I did THIS!" She pounced and mussed his hair.
(and just a suggestion, I think italicizing "this" rather than capitalizing it would make the next sentence much stronger.)
<i>Italics.i>
("i"s made bold for html by-passing.)
Oh! And I am unsure about your use of the word "sans". From the French I know (and I assume it's the same in French as it is in English), "sans" means "without". But it's sort of like the words "jealousy" and "envy" -- both mean PRETTY much the same thing, but not exactly. Without would work better, I think, just because "sans" seems a bit out of place to use beginning a sentence. Maybe because I've never seen it done and am unsure of the rules on that?
Oh. "Bollocks" made me giggle. I thought you should know that.
The "mates" thing seems a little strange to me. Traditionally, vampires cannot reproduce. And since vampire myths come from long-ago Ireland, when most everyone had children JUST to work on their farms, vampires wouldn't have mates. They would just turn others into vampires or kill them. I think mostly for company, or for help in killing others. They are creatures from the underworld who are already dead, it seems petty human emotions such as love wouldn't affect them. Though young vampires who spent most of their lives as human -- I can see them caring about it. In the myths I've read, they try not to form attachments to people, so they won't rely on others. But everyone's entitled to their own way of twisting myths. I just love mythological influences that come from real myths, or real old stories.
I do like that you didn't go with the utterly stupid "vegetarian vampires" thing. That seems a bit ridiculous to me.
And this is just me, but -- I enjoy things where the author doesn't do things like describe everyone's hair color, eye color, and such of the like. I read a story where one character was described as "tall as mountains, but too bony to push them" and as having a hook nose and greasy skin. That was all the description used on him, and he stuck with the group through the whole story. Most description fell on the characters like that. Describing how their cuts formed mazes and freckles formed constellations. It's a lot more interesting than "strawberry blond hair and steel blue eyes".
Now. The emerald green flash. I find this immensely interesting and am curious to know more about it. I love how you ended with a cliffhanger.
One more thing:
"Brae, you and Alex should hunt with us. We'll all go to Louisiana."
I think your "a" and "e" keys are playing jokes on you.
I'm a bit confused as to what vampire skin is. Don't get me wrong, I read Twilight. Not really my chalice of tea, but I got the gist of what S. Meyer's vampires looked like. But I think if you're going to describe skin, you have to do better. Marble, metal, gravely -- or you could go Frankenstein and say the creature had paper-thin yellowed skin (I believe that was all the monster was described with. You had to picture him through his musings to himself).
This is also just me, but: as is a dirty word. Outside of similes and sentences such as "I can't do that, as it is illegal in 47 states, Matthew" -- and the "such as" thing -- it should be used sparingly. I direct you to my Lord and Savior, OokamiKasumi Christ, on her guide for the Most Despised As -- also known as Satan's Bodyguard.
See here: [link]
Actually -- EVERYTHING in her writing tips and tricks gallery folder is ABSOLUTELY LOVELY and should be read. I have read all of them and re-read them quite often when I am stuck.
Writing tips and tricks: [link]
Now, proof-read, proof-read, proof-read. Put it down for an hour, watch Law and Order, get some tea and cereal -- just wait. In an hour, or even a day or two -- come back and read it again. Notice everything you didn't before, correct it, make adjustments. Repeat until satisfied. Or you can do one run-through or have someone do one for you. (I'd be more than happy to, and the final product is entirely up to you.)
I apologize for the long-ness of this critique, but I enjoy being as thorough as possible. A heart surgeon should never sew the chest up halfway, the dude'll bleed to death! I hope that you will take all of this into consideration -- AND be a good sport about it. There's millions of people who could be fantastic writers if they would learn that "you misspelled this word" doesn't mean "you have failed forever, you suck".
Take people's advice and don't take this as me telling you that you've failed. I am looking forward to chapter two, and I think your title name for it sounds pretty good -- as long as it has something to do with the story! Don't call a book about ant colonies "How to Make Souffle"! That's just ridiculous. XD
Ta-ta and happy writing.~ ♥
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So, On with Chapter Two? Any Ideas for a title? I was thinking of calling it "Minus One, Divided By Two."
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