Heart Flutters

Open Question: sudden sharp chest/breast pain?

July 30th, 2010 | by admin | Open Question: What do you think of my story so far???
So I posted this again a little while ago and got some really good answers. I’ve added a little and want to know what you think. I’m thinking of ending the chapter at this point. What are your thoughts on that. Thanks

Anna felt a foreign sensation as if a slight breeze were blowing softly on her ears. This was so strange to her, because she never had them out from behind her hair. she never wanted anyone to see them. One of the most noticeably different things about her were her ears, because they were pointed at the tip. She had suffered many years of bullying before she had learned to hide them. She had recently found out about her mother?s heritage. What she found out caused her sleepless nights filled with anger. It was because of her uniqueness and her anger that she was here today. Tonight she would have her revenge.
A twig cracked behind her. Anna turned swiftly and her eyes caught sight of a tall shadow. Anna’s heart pounded crazily in her chest, fear rounding her eyes as she looked into the empty eyes of the man who stepped out of the shadow. His hollow, colorless eyes bore no kindness and his body, completely ridged. Beads of sweat ran down her face. This is what she had wanted and carefully planned for over the past six months. The moment when she would meet her mother’s killers.
6 months prior
“Dad, where was the last box you wanted me to take out?”
“I don’t know, check the attic, it should say ‘old albums’ on it.”
Anna sprinted into the house, from the already busy yard-sale in her yard. She had forced her dad to get rid of some of his things, because she was sick of nearly tripping over something when she walked anywhere in the house. Her dad was a hopeless pack-rat.
She had always thought herself a fast runner, that and the many other unusual things about her were reasons as to why she’s always felt alone. She, over the past few years had distanced herself from her friends few as they were. There was a deep feeling of emptiness inside her, and her friends never seemed to be enough to fill it. More recently she avoided talking with people outside of her father. She preferred walking to the little stream inside the forest beside her house. It seemed that she had always had a fondness for nature. She often thought back to when she was little and her dad would took her camping near Algonquin park.
After climbing the stairs she found the cord that would open the attic. She jerked out of the way as the stairs cascaded down. Quickly she climbed the stairs and entered the attic. Anna let her eyes adjust to the sudden change from light to dark. Once her eyes had adjusted, she was able to look around as if the light was on. Just another one of those strange things about her. She let her eyes wander over the contents of the attic, taking in its bitter scent of mildew and the faint smell of jasmine. After a moment she began searching for the box that her dad wanted. She saw it in a corner consumed by a pile of old clothes. She walked over, squatted down, and pushed the clothes aside. A large waft of jasmine coming from the clothes. In the box she saw old photo albums.
?These can?t be right,? she murmured to herself.
She pulled on one of the albums. It bore a strange symbol and was comprised of a material she wasn’t able to place. She opened the book to a random page. Her thumbs seemed to know what she didn’t. she was mistaken, what she had perceived as a photo album was actually a journal or diary of sorts. She skimmed the pages covered in dust. She was not particularly interested in the content, but rather about who had written it.
The writing was unfamiliar to her, and the words strange. She could make out some of the words, but most seemed to be in a language unfamiliar to her. Japanese or Chinese maybe? They weren’t typical letters, but rather symbols. Placing the book aside, she rummaged through the rest of the box. It seemed that this was the only unique book. The rest were just regular photo albums. She made a mental note to ask her father about the book later. She closed the box, and started to rummage around. Looking for the box she was sure her father had meant. Finally finding it, she walked over, picked up the book and placed it atop the box. She hoped her father hadn’t tried to sneak some of his stuff back in the house when she wasn’t there.
No there isn’t anymore at the moment.

I’m really happy you liked it. I will be posting it on my booksie page when I’m done.
http://www.booksie.com/bookbuyer

Fri, 30 Jul 2010 02:13:31 GMT

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