WCL's Freewriting

by warriorcatlover 5/2/2010, 6:01 pm

WCL's Freewriting

You never hear from me much, do you? I tend to give up on my stories. (Hence I keep my current story idea in my head, rather than writing it down)
But I've realized thinking too deeply into that only spiritually tortures me. (At this point, I don't blame you for thinking I've gone mad). I have other story ideas, not that all of them make it to a full story either. Usually somewhere along the road I find some problem with the plot line, or making something too simple. And some of my ideas, as some may have experienced with RPing with me (ya.. maybe this only applies to Mia) but some of my ideas are exactly the same, just different characters.

Anyways, I'm not going to trouble you with my whole tragic life story, eh? I won't write everyday, most likely. Comments and criticism are much welcome.

5/2/10

Vwyn: The Boy Across the River

In a place that cannot be marked by a map, nor any boundaries at all really, resided a settlement, or a village if you will, once called Glæd. Quite an odd name for someplace that could not even come close to matching its description. A dark, twisting cloud often loomed over it, and life was always pretty glum. The highlight of anyone's day was most likely mumbling a 'hello' to a passerby. It had been the same tedious routine for much too long. But of course, being proud, (although it never showed through) their habits remained unchanged.

No one in at least a century had questioned the everlasting storm that swirled above their heads. It never troubled anyone; sometimes it rained, sometimes it didn't, to them it was as simple as that.

Of course, it is only human to be curious. Curiosity naturally comes from innocence, and just a will to learn. And to many, when the word 'innocence' appears, a common relation is made with 'child' or 'children'. And a child is exactly what broke this streak of boredom and bleakness.

This young child had only ever heard one fairytale, one story ever in her entire life, and she only listened once. But it was certainly enough to free her imagination. Her eagerness made her twitch as she looked past the looming, yet plain buildings that aligned the straight path they called a street. Out of nowhere, she wanted to discover something, to find something so great, that it would change everyone. (For a child, as you can imagine, this is not an uncommon dream.)

The youth soon became frivolous and questioned everything around her: her siblings (she had seven), the color of her hair (a deep chestnut), the shadows in the alleyways (to which she passed by more and more often) and even why the dark cloud looming over Glæd existed, twisting and turning all their fates. Why?

At the edge of the village (which would be marked as a boundary if there were any), a large river twined and meandered with the hills and plains. It was a river of much complexity, for no one saw it in the same manner or in the same way, for whatever reason. To one, it would be all black, like a thin tar, and to another, a sparkling white, as though snow danced through it.

Beyond the river lay some lands which no one of Glæd wished to venture out into. From time to time, as they were going about their boring lives, they would glare at the forest, so full of life and yet so silent from the other side of the river.

The child whom we mentioned earlier was called Aderyn-'bird'. She found pleasure in thinking of her name, but not in it being called. Especially for dinner. Lonely and bored to tears, for her day and dreams had ended, she sat with her chin in her palms, staring blankly at the home that rested across from hers.

Same, equally bright (which was rather dull) lights, similar shapes that formed at the windows. Aderyn sighed, and her anxiousness only grew. None of her siblings understood her sense of imagination, or imagination at all. Her eldest brother (she was the youngest, not to mention) came from the house and poked his head around the door. "We are waiting, Aderyn. We are waiting." That was what he always said. Then, normally, she'd respond, "Alright." and follow close behind him to the wobbly wooden chair at the crowded table.

A light shone in her eyes now. She wanted to prove her desire to be different, and she would hesitate no longer. "Eat without me." she responded. Her brother repeated, with a little more fury in his voice, what he had said.

"You are not deaf. Go on without me." she said again. But her brother would not stand for that. Behind him, the door slammed and vibrated. Now the fury had reached his eyes. With a massive hand, he reached for her, swearing and cursing. But being as light and nimble as she was, she easily dodged his hand, abruptly overcome with fear.

Looking back only once more, she fled, down the street and past all the monstrous silhouettes of the houses in the night. Her brother's shouts came after, yet her brother did not follow. All her energy was focused into running away as far as possible and wondering what her brother planned to do if she returned. So I may as well not go back at all. she thought decisively.

As she ran, she kicked off her boots (for they were marvelously heavy, especially for a girl her age). She had absolutely no idea where she was headed, nor did she care much at this point. She had broken a common tradition, and certainly they would have her head for that (or so she thought.)

After much time sprinting (for this was quite a long road, mind you) and much tripping over her own feet, Aderyn did not even realize she had come upon the base of the river (which she almost tripped into as well.) Surprise, fear and many other emotions filled in her emerald eyes, and made them grow thrice their normal size.

In her mind, the river reflected the night sky (although none could be seen through the cloud), with the dancing golden stars, forming together and painting pictures and illusions all over the midnight blue canvas. If she could, she would have remained in awe, ogling it until the end of time. And she almost would have, if the river had not reflected something else for her.

It was the shape of another human being, still a boy by appearance, although he seemed a few years her elder. He wasn't staring at her, or anything. He stood in the exact same position as she, without the tension or wonder.

When she looked up and gasped at him, he looked up too, quite blankly. Clad in all black, a cloak with a lowered hood and black boots, he looked quite grim. Before she could get a better look at him, though, he turned on his heels and vanished into the forest.

"Wait!" she called after him, not even caring that her dress was getting wet as she leaped in and waded across. It seemed like hours for her to cross, as if the weight of a thousand boulders had been place on her shoulders and more were being added to the load. The energy was slowly draining from her, and she began to feel very cold, as though her blood and soul were being drawn from her veins.

By the time she was halfway, she felt very frail and fragile. Now she questioned if she was every going to be able to cross the river, whether this was truly what the river was like, or the boy had put some sort of spell upon it. Her curiosity alone was what allowed her to move on.

Oddly, as she got closer to the opposite side, she felt stronger, gaining back the strength and will she had lost only moments ago. When she reached the river bank, she tripped and fell to her knees, scraping her hands with what seemed to be rocks. Her feet still felt as though they were encased in an iceberg, but she leaped to her feet once more and ran to where the boy had disappeared.

(At this point in time I'd actually just like to make one whole short story thread for this. I tend to do this much. XD. So this is an unfinished piece of work... for now. XD)

by **shadowsowner888** 5/3/2010, 9:28 pm

I think this freewrite or story or whatever it truly is is really great. :3 You're such a good writer. The parentheses seemed a little excessive to me, but really, I didn't find anything wrong with the piece. It seems like an interesting story, and if you continue writing it, I'll be reading. x3 Otherwise . . . well . . . I'll just read your next freewrite. nod

WCL's Freewriting

WCL's Freewriting

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