This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while now. I've been trying to get it up on as many sites as possible where I could get some possible positive feedback that would let me know if it's worth continuing. anything you have to offer is much appreciated. =3
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I didn't expect it to be so cold. I wished I would have brought a heavier jacket, but then again, I didn’t expect Tris to do his disappearing act out here in the woods. My flashlight swayed back and forth along the narrow trail, my feet sinking deeper and deeper into the rain-softened mud.

“Tristan, are you out here?” The light began to dim, then flicker, and die. “Shit,” I hissed as I smacked the flashlight against the palm of my hand. “You have got to be kidding me.” I twisted the top off the useless light and fished around in my pockets for the spare batteries. I dumped the old ones into my hand and plopped the new ones in. When I switched on the newly revived device, something grabbed me.

My scream echoed off the autumn wind stripped trees and scared away the night birds. A hand covered my mouth and turned me around. I shined the light in his eyes. It was Tris.

“Damn it, Ellie. What are you trying to do, blind me?”

“It depends, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Oh come on, Scaredy cat,” Clay’s voice said from behind Tris. He had his camera in his hands and an evil red light was shining from it.

I pushed past both of them, knocking the recording camera out of Clay’s hands. “Jerks!” I yelled back at them as I headed down the trail towards the cabin. “I hope they get eaten by wolves,” I mumbled when I was far enough away to see the lights from our weekend sanctuary.

“Ellie, come on, it was just a joke!” Tristan called after me, “Ellie!”

“You know what, Tris? You can take your jokes and shove them right up your narrow, neon a-,” I was interrupted by a growl. It was low and feral, coming from the pathway in front of me. I froze, even my shivering stopped. My flashlight flickered and died again, cheap piece of crap. As the world went dark, I heard it growl again, closer. Then I felt a weight on my chest and the ground’s wetness seeping through the back of my jeans. A white-hot, searing pain spread across my throat as I let out my last, gurgling cry for help and felt my consciousness slip
away. In that darkness where it was just me, I heard a voice say:

You are mine now....


“Ellie?”

What

“E-llie!”

Can’t you hear me? I’m over here!

“Oh gosh, Guys, I found her!”

I felt arms shaking me, “Ellie, Ellie are you okay? Wake up.” I recognized the voice. It was Skye, My best friend. My eyelids were heavy and dry. I struggled to open my eyes. A blurred form of Skye appeared before me. As I stared at the form, it got clearer and clearer until I could see the worried look on her face.

“Skye, Ugh, Why does my head hurt so badly?” I asked, resting my forehead in my palm as I sat up.

“Oh, honey,” She whispered, barely touching a comforting, perfectly manicured hand against my mud soaked back. “You went off the trail last night after the guys played a really stupid trick on you. We’ve been searching for you all morning.”

Did she even hear my question? “I remember that. God, my neck is killing me, can you take a look?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,”

She pulled my heavy hair away from my sore spot and her gasp made me jump. “Ellie, there’s a big gash on your neck!”

“What,” my hand shot over the spot. Skye was frantically waving her hands up
and down as if she was trying to dry wet nail polish.

“OHMYGOODNESS,” She was still waving, “We need to get a doctor. What if you got some sort of disease?” She gasped again, “What if you got attacked by some sort of rabid animal?”

“Skye, I think I would have remembered that.” However, oddly, as I thought back, I couldn’t remember anything except that stupid prank that Clay and Tris pulled on me. “I probably just cut it on a twig or something and didn’t notice.”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt to check,” Said my hyperactive hypochondriac friend.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll make an appointment with doctor Montag when we get back today.”

Skye let out a breath I believe she’d been holding in for a while, and said, “Thanks, El. Oh, you can call him right now,” then she pulled out her pink, bejeweled cell phone, “I have him on speed dial.”

“Of course you do,” I mumbled, and internally wondered how a girl so fabulous could be so afraid of everything.

She handed me the phone and swatted at the air, “Um, okay, can we, like, go inside now? There are bugs out here.”

I rolled my eyes. Skye helped me to my feet and I wiped off the back of my pants, which was more habit than helpful because my pants were soaked through and caked with mud.

When I walked into the cabin, Tris and Clay were sitting on the couch. Clay had a mug of steaming coffee in his hands, which I knew from our years of friendship that he would never even consider drinking unless something was seriously wrong. The last time I saw him even touch the stuff was when his grandma died. Tris had heavy, dark circles under his eyes. He was nervously tapping fisted
hands against his knees.

When they heard the screen door slam, their heads turned to look at me. I shot them a look that said, “Speak, and you die,” as I crossed the living room. Neither of them said a word. Clay took another sip from the mug and grimaced before I shut and locked the bedroom door.


I peeled out of my jeans and stuffed them in my dirty clothes bag. I pulled the drawstring closed after I put my windbreaker and my t-shirt inside along with my soaking underwear. I stepped inside the shower, the water was cold, but the day was hot and humid. I was thankful for the coolness, and the chance to wash away all of the leaves and forest floor mud in my hair. I closed my eyes and suddenly realized how hungry I was. I wanted bacon, lots of it, and sausage smothered in maple syrup, stacks and stacks of hamburgers, and barbecue chicken, and ribs. I could almost feel my mouth start to water.

I turned off the shower and toweled myself dry, twisting the towel around my sopping mane as I climbed into some clean clothes. I went back into the bathroom to check out my neck. The ‘gash’ Skye had mentioned looked like nothing more than a scratch, but it was weird and crescent shaped like a bite. I swallowed hard, trying not to scream. What would happen if Skye wasn’t paranoid, and some sort of rabid animal did attack me? I pushed these thoughts from my head and hurried out of the bathroom, away from the mirror. Somehow, I had fooled myself into believing that if I couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there. I unlocked the bedroom door.

Skye was sitting on the couch with her laptop. The guys were nowhere I could see. “Where are they?” I asked.

She didn’t look up from her web surfing. “They’re outside loading Clay’s truck with our stuff.”

I nodded an understanding, though I was sure she didn’t see it. I pulled the towel out of my hair and tossed it over the back of one of the wooden chairs, and went into the kitchen to look for something to eat.

I ate practically everything in the fridge which was mostly leftovers and eggs (I didn’t eat those). Skye walked in just as I was biting into my fifth chicken leg, my face was probably smeared with barbecue sauce and there was a plate of bones sitting in front of me.

“Jeez, El, slow down. All that sugar is going to go straight to your ass.”

“Like it could get any bigger, “ I said through a mouth full of chicken. “I’m just so hungry.”

“Well you didn’t eat dinner last night, or breakfast this morning…” Her words trailed off.

“It’s different this time. I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks.” I took another bite, “and I think the starvation has made me carnivorous.”

Skye started laughing, “well, if all you want to eat is meat, maybe I should call Tris in here.”

I slapped her arm and she jerked it away in surprise. “Why do you always have to turn everything into a perverted joke?”

She was cradling one arm with the other, “sorry, El, you just make it really easy.” She smiled and laughed again. I rolled my eyes.

I grabbed one of the hand-towels from the cabinet and wiped my face. Tris came up from behind me and hugged my waist. “What do you want,” I asked, pullingaway from his arms and turning towards him.

“I wanted to apologize for being an ass and nearly getting you killed in the woods because of a stupid prank.”

“I don’t think sorry is good enough this time, Tris. I could have been seriously hurt, and all because of that prank that you just had to pull. Did you seriously think about the consequences, Tris? Did you want me pissed at you, or dead?”

He didn’t answer the question, just sighed and said, “You know, you sound just like my mom sometimes.”

I was dumbfounded. I’d met Tristan’s mom, she wasn’t much to be compared to. She was a forty- three year-old accountant from Brookfield with five kids, three ex-husbands and a receeding hairline.

“That’s really dumb, Tris.” Skye chimed in from behind a magazine she’d started reading. “you just compared her to a forty-something woman with crows feet and a receeding hairline. You shouldn’t ever compare anyone to your mother, especially not your girlfriend.” I looked at her and she gave me a sly smile and a wink that said: ‘I’m your best friend, I know you too well’

“Ex-girlfriend,” Tris said pointedly from over his shoulder as he stormed out of the cabin and slammed the screen door behind him.


I stood staring at the door for a long time before Skye came over and rested a hand on my shoulder. I burst into silent tears right there in Skye’s arms.
When I was finished crying, and cleaning up my mess in the kitchen, Clay called us outside. They were done loading all of the luggage and were ready to head back into town. Skye slid her laptop back into its bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. We walked outside together.

Were it any other situation, I would have rode back to town the same way I rode up to the cabin, in Tristan’s truck, but I opted for the safer alternative in the back seat of Clay’s.

The drive home was quiet, and it would have been just fine that way if I hadn’t fallen asleep.


It was dark. I was walking barefoot through the woods. I could feel the autumn leaves crunching underneath me, and the cool breeze lifting the hair from my shoulders. The full moon hung like a spotlight in the sky, illuminating everything in soft blues and harsh navies.
Skye was standing in front of me. She kept turning around and smiling as we walked, saying things like, “Hurry up, “ and “we’re almost there.” I wanted to ask her where we were going, but I couldn’t speak.
Then she was gone. I looked for her, but all of the soft blues had faded into pure black and the only thing I could see was the moon, like a guide in the dark. I kept moving forward, following the moon’s glow until I found an opening in the trees, a field. I heard a scream coming from the other side of the clearing. I started running, and then I found her, them, Skye, Clay, and Tristan. They were laying on the ground covered in bloody slashes. Their bodies were curled on their sides and I kept hearing a voice saying “stop, please, make it stop.” I felt something warm creeping down the front of my chest, and down my arms. It dripped from my fingers. It was blood. I tried to scream, but nothing came out except a heavy breath, then everything disappeared into the blackness again.


I woke up. My heart was pounding in my throat and I was covered in sweat. I felt sick. “Pull over,” I sreamed. The truck came to a screeching halt and I almost fell out of the door. The sun was starting to set and the orange-y purple of the sky reminded me of vomit. I ran faster into the woods. A tree root sticking up from the gorund caught my foot and I fell forward on all fours. I could taste it in my mouth now. I stood, and puked my guts up in a nearby bush.

“El, honey, are you over here?” It was Skye. How was it that no matter where I was she always knew exactly where to find me? I couldn’t say anything to her. I was still dry-heaving when she finally showed up next to me.
When I stopped, I took a deep breath and turned to face my friend. She shoved a water bottle in my hand.

“Here,” she said. I took it greatfully and popped the cap off the bottle. I swished the cool liquid around in my mouth and spit the rancid tasting leftovers of my nausea on the ground.

“El, are you alright, I mean, you aren’t pregnant or anything are you?” She said the word like it tasted bad.

“No, Skye, in case you didn’t know, you actually have to have sex to get pregnant.”

“Hey, I’m not against the whole ‘Virgin Mary’ theory.”

I gave her a look that I hoped accurately conversed what I was thinking about her at the moment which was, “are you an idiot?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. Lots of bad things have been happening to you lately, and it’s starting to freak me out. Did you like walk uner a ladder or break a mirror or something?”

“Are you seriously going to attribute my bad luck to some silly superstition? They’re all just dumb little accidents.” I started to walk back to the truck. Skye followed. She didn’t say much else.

It was about eight when we finally made it into town. Sleepy little Ambrose looked the same as it always did, nobody was outside except those few kids that thought they were cool because they hung out downtown after dark.
Clay headed into the suburbs, my house was the first stop. I jumped out of the truck, “Thanks for the ride, guy,” I said.

“No prob, girl,” Clay said back. I waved goodbye from my driveway and they roared off. I grabbed my bags and walked in through the front door, it was unlocked, like always.

“Mom, I’m home!” I yelled into the silent house.

“Welcome back, sweetie, I’m in the kitchen!”

I threw my bags into the living room and headed to the back of the housewhere the kitchen was. Mom had moved the breakfast table into the dining room and had set up her paint eisel on a big color-stained tarp where it used to be. She was wearing an old army t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Her feet were bare and her purple polished toes were poking out from under her bell-bottomed jeans. Her long, curly, brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun and the shorter pieces hung in little ringlets around her face. She turned to me and smiled like she was hiding something and then swirled her brush around on her palette and started making long strokes across the canvas again.

“What’s that?” I asked, sitting at one of the bar-stools and pulling my feet up underneath me.

“I’m painting memories,” She said, “ of the things that you were probably too young to remember.”

I smiled, I always liked it when mom made her paintings a surprise.

“There’s something for us in the fridge. I got it to celebrate your homecoming,” She squinted at the canvas.

“I was only gone for two days, “ I replied.

“Yeah, I know, but there’s just something about homecomings that makes them worth celebrating all the time, don’t you think?” She said her last words looking at me with a smile. I nodded in agreement. “Plus, Skye called me earlier and told me what happened.” Leave it to a best friend to call and tell your mom when a boy breaks your heart.

More? Please? This is really good. I would definitely read this in book form.

thanks so much ^-^ i'm glad to know someone enjoyed it!

here's some more of it ^-^ enjoy!
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I went to sleep feeling a little light-headed. Mom and I had a Japan themed welcome-home celebration. We spent a full six hours drinking hot sake, eating sushi, and watching badly dubbed Japanese kung-fu movies.
I dreamed about wolves.

I was running with them, but no matter how terrified I really was, the me in the dream was excited, and unbelievably happy. My eyes were blood-red and my skin was the color of granite. As I ran, I shed my clothes and started running on all-fours until I turned into a wolf. I looked at myself and couldn’t believe it. I was huge, and covered in snow-white fur. There were tattoos all over me in the same blood color that my eyes had been, but my eyes were now a beautiful, bright blue. I stood there tall and proud, commanding the wolves around me with an unspoken language. Then a shadowy form appeared behind me. Its eyes glowed yellow, and I couldn’t see its face. It pounced on me, and everything went dark.

When I woke up, I vomited again. I checked my neck. The redness was gone, replaced by three, little, black-bluish dots. I rinsed my mouth out in the sink. I also washed my face with the cold water, trying desperately to scrub away the haggard look I had adopted.


Today was My doctor’s appointment. The clinic didn’t open until eight, and my actual appointment wasn’t until nine. My clock said four A.M. I’d slept for exactly two hours.

I couldn’t go back to bed. I couldn’t risk the nightmares again. They were starting to drive me a little insane, making me a little paranoid about whatever it was that I might have picked up out in the woods.

My paranoia was made worse before I went to bed. I’d unloaded all of my dirty clothes from the bag and shoved them into the washing machine. I looked at the shirt I’d been wearing that night in the woods. There was a distinctive copper color rimming around the collar. It was blood. I checked my wind-breaker, same scenario. It was in the hood, and part of the inner lining.

I sat, curled into a little ball on my bed. My purple comforter was wrapped thickly around me, like reassuring arms. If I couldn’t sleep, I’d have to wait.

At eight-thirty I pulled my car into the clinic parking lot.It was mostly empty except for a few staff members’ cars. Nobody makes appointments this early on a Monday.

As soon as I walked in, Sherry, The receptionist/ nurse, gave me a strange look. “Ellie, hon’, what are you doin’ here? Your appointment isn’t for another half-hour.” She was staring at her watch when she said this, and her thick southern accent had come out with her concern for my mental health.

“Sorry, Sherry, I know, but I just thought that if he wasn’t with annother patient that maybe he could see me a little earlier?”

“Feelin’ a little paranoid, huh,” she tapped her pencil, the sound was ear-shattering to me. I nodded at her question. “Well, tell me what’s been goin’ on, your symptoms I mean, and if there’s any cause for concern, I’ll call the doc in here real quick, ‘kay?” I nodded again.

“I can’t sleep, well I can, but every time I do I get these awful nightmares. When I wake up, I’m covered in sweat, my heart’s pounding in my throat and I suddenly feel nauseous. I vomit every time. It’s happened twice.”

She didn’t say much, just nodded and “mm-hmm”d, and scribbled notes down on a little pad of paper.

“I have this little mark on my neck. It looks like an old scar, but I got it two days ago. It used to be an angry red, but it’s turned into three little, blue dots.”
“Let’s see it,” she said.

I pulled my hair back away from the spot, and she scuttled around her desk to examine it.

“And you said that you got it two days ago?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“It looks like an itty-bitty scratch, maybe some bruising. Whatever it was that made this, it didn’t break the skin.”

“But that’s just it, Sherry, it did break the skin. When I was doing my laundry last night, I found blood on the collar of the t-shirt I was wearing when I got this thing. It was a lot of blood.”

She looked like she didn’t know what to say (That was a first). She lightly brushed her fingers along the mark. I winced at her touch.

“Does it hurt?” she asked me, when she saw me pull away from her.

“It doesn’t really hurt, it just feels strange when you touch it. It doesn’t do that when I poke at it, but you barely brushed you fingers near it and it sent chills down my spine.”

“Well, I can give you some antibiotics and schedule an appointment for you with a doctor at Saint Vincent’s for tomorrow morning if you’d like.”

“That sounds okay,” I barely said, “But what about the dreams?”

“Just take some regular ol’ sleepin’ pills. They usually help me block out the nightmares.”

Somehow I didn’t believe that Nyquil would solve my nightmare problem, but I seriously wanted to be out of this place, so I nodded like I was agreeing with everything she said.

“Thanks, Sherry,” I said, turning to leave.

“You’re welcome, hon’. I’ll tell doctor Montag you stopped by, he’ll understand.”
I waved goodbye and tried my best to smile. Sherry waved back. She looked pleased with herself.



When I made it back home, Mom was in the living room. She had her feet curled up underneath her, and a blanket draped across her lap in her favorite chair. When she heard the door shut, she looked up from the book she was reading.
“Hey, El, how’d it go at Montag’s?”

“I didn’t actually get to see the doctor. Sherry was playing professional crazy-finder, and I was the victim. Apparently some Nyquil and weak antibiotics are supposed to cure me of all diseases. She did schedule an appointment with a doctor at Saint Vincent’s. Maybe someone there who actually knows what they’re doing can help me.”

Mom laughed at my negative humor. “Well maybe this will lighten your spirits.” She pointed to the table. “A shmancy letter came in the mail for you. I was thinking secret admirer, but it’s too professional looking.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I looked at the table where an ivory colored envelope sat. It was addressed to ‘ Miss Eleanor Verona’ in a fancy silver script and was sealed with one of those old-fashoined wax-stamps that had a strange symbol on it. I pulled the heavy, cream paper out and read the letter aloud, doing my best to change my voice to a sarcastic excitement.

Dear Miss Verona:

I paused and wiggled my eyebrows in a mock of my mother. She stiffled a giggle. I turned back to the letter.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Wolfrose Academy for your acceptional display of academic prowess and community involvment. This acceptance also comes with a full scholarship for your three year stay here at our campus, to which arrangments will be made for your transportation in the fall at the expense of the school upon your notification of acceptance.
If you should accept this valuable opportunity to attend one of the nations most prestigious schools, there are a few minor things of which we expect all attending students to be aware before their arrival here at the campus.
· A uniform will be provided in the school’s colors. This is the only clothing to be worn during classes, no acceptions.
· Pets will be allowed on campus. This includes the outer courtyards and dormitories, but they may not be present in the classroom.
· Breakfast is served at seven-thirty sharp and will continue until the first bell rings at eight-forty five. We expect all students to be in attendance. Similar rules apply towards dinner, which will begin being served at six, and will continue until nine.
· Lights are to be off, and all students in bed by ten-thirty, exceptions only for those students that are attending the off-campus camping trips.
· Excessive tardies will result in suspension, and if progressive, expulsion.
We hope to see you here at Wolfrose.
-sincerely,
Caipora Loveley
Head Mistress

“Weird letter,” Mom said. “Did you even apply to that school?”

“No, I’ve never even heard of it until now.” I folded the letter back into the envelope. “It’s like they just drew my name out of a hat or something”

“I wouldn’t doubt that it’s a scam or something,” Mom said. “All kinds of people make up fake schools to get money.”

“Well, they didn’t ask for any money.”

“Maybe not in that letter,” She said matter-of-factly. “You can look it up later. If it’s a real school, there’s no harm in taking it into consideration, even if your friends here at Ambrose High don’t like it” She waved me off, probably expecting me to get at the research right away, and turned back to her book.


I put the letter on my desk and booted up my computer before I sat down. When my internet page finally popped up, I typed the head mistress’s name into the search engine. I clicked on the first link.

Caipora Loveley: Head mistress of Wolfrose Academy, a prestigious school that accepts only the most intelligent and well-rounded students from every nation. It is said that the school doesn’t even consider those hundreds of students that apply each year, but rather, monitors the progress of the most promising of students in a sample group, and sends their acceptance letters based on those that place the highest in an overall assessment.

“The student never has to worry about applying,” Caipora said when asked about the school’s method of choosing its pupils, “we do that for them.”


Caipora’s name was highlighted in hyperlink blue. I clicked on it. The link took me to a page about mythological monsters. Caipora is the name of a fox-human hybrid from brazil that is also said to be some sort of nature spirit.

“So, the head mistress is named after a fox monster?” I mumbled, “What were her parents on?” Suddenly I was glad that my mom named me after my great-grandma. Eleanor was an embarassing name, but at least it was human. I cant imagine what it was like for her in grade school. I know what it was like for me, having my name plus that extra layer of baby fat that earned me the nickname ‘Ellie-Phant’

I clicked back and chose another link, this one taking me to the school’s website. There was a picture of the school on the main page. It looked like a medeival castle, but sinister somehow. The campus walls were engulfed with hooded, purple flowers that had stalks that rose almost higher than the walls itself. Beyond the flowered walls, on the outside, was a dense forest with a leafy canopy so thick there wasn’t any light shining below the treetops.

“Is that the place?” Mom’s voice came from behind me. I jumped a little. “It looks creepy, like Frankenstein’s castle creepy.”

I managed a nod and an “mm-hmm,” trying not to give away the startled squeal in my voice.

“Well it certainly doesn’t look real, but it is I suppose.” I turned around to look at her, but she was already walking out the door, “GO over that letter again, El. Who knows, that school might actually be good for you.” She called from over her shoulder.

I looked at the envelope and thought about its contents. Could Frankenstein’s castle really be good for me? I pulled the letter out of the envelope again and another, smaller envelope fell from the folds of the letter and to the floor. I picked it up and examined it. On the front in bold, black letters was printed:

DO NOT READ ALOUD

Wow...if only I could write like this. :(

LOTS of practice helps, believe me. It took me forever to get these particular parts the way I wanted them. I must have edited them at least four times ^^

Wow...