Own the Night (Part Two)

CHAPTER ONE [THE AWAKENING]     

Leila’s eyes opened, for it was midnight, and she was alive again.

She shook out her long, pitch-black hair. It reached down to her ankles. This was not very surprising, seeing how she had never gotten her hair cut. Not many barber shops were open at this time of night.

   Leila looked around the room. It wasn’t the happiest place ever, she had never really had time to decorate it. The four small walls were gray and dusty. The bed was too small, and it sagged whenever she sat on it. Her one room house was on the edge of town, or more like in the middle of the forest. It blended nicely with the trees, so anyone would have had to look hard to see it. The house was suspended 30 feet off the ground in the branches of a grove of tall pine trees. You see, she had been living there all her life. She had distant memories of food appearing on her table overnight, but those times were long gone.

   Leila wasn’t exactly the most cheerful- or lucky-  girl on the planet. She knew she had had parents at one time, at least she had a mother- she didn’t remember her dad-  but she had no idea where they were now. All she remembered of her life before the curse was a small, bright room. Her mother was holding her, and everything was happy, at least until the hooded figure came. Leila was the only one who could see him. He said a few words- ominous, chilling words- and after 57 minutes, Leila died.

At least, that’s what it seemed like. She didn’t die exactly- just disappeared. Off of the face of the planet. Never to be seen again. But she didn’t die. Ceased to exist, she preferred.

    Leila sighed. She’d better get down to business. She grabbed a brush off the windowsill and proceeded to brush her thick, dark hair. As she brushed, she hummed a simple tune. She had previously made up words, but she could never remember them, except for a couple words. She set down the brush and sang the few words she remembered. “And when you wish upon a shining star...” she continued humming. She rummaged around in the dark closet for anything to tie her hair up. There it was- her lucky pink ribbon. She had no idea where it had come from. She tied up her long black hair and wished she had a mirror.

A dark, sneaky thought entered her head. She could simply walk down the street, crack open the window, and...

   No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t! That would be stealing. It wasn’t that important, anyways...

   Again she thought of the mirror. It should be about eight inches long, with a silver handle to match her eyes. There was a loud cracking sound. Leila gasped and whirled around. There, on the floor, sat the mirror she had been thinking of. She gasped again and scooped the mirror up off the floor, or at least tried to. The handle was searing hot.

   Leila pulled her hand away and stared at it. A long, thin burn was growing across the top of her palm.

“It’ll take a minute to cool.” said a voice. Leila looked around the room. There was nobody there.

“Hello?” she asked. There was no answer. She leaned down to pick up the mirror. The handle was cold now.

Own the Night (Part One)

I hadn't really forgotten about this story, but it was resting in the very back corner of my brain until today. It's called Own the Night, and it's a story I wrote with my cousin Claire. Her brother Isaac helped, too (he made up the backstory of the bad guy, among other things, and it's super cool), and Neil was supposed to but never actually wrote anything. Well, he wrote "I'm orange......ok?" and "…ºπWHºªππππππππ" and "CHAPTER THREE" (which still isn't finished) and "something", but that's it.
  It's only about two chapters long, but oh, well. Here's the prologue.

PROLOGUE

It was late at night when the woman opened her eyes. She got out of bed and walked down the hallway. In the dining room she found her husband hunched over the table hard at work. “You shouldn’t do that.” she said, and he turned around. “You need your sleep.”

He smiled. “So do you.”

“I just barely woke up. The baby’s coming.”

* * *

He hurried down the hall, worried. Master had called for him and he wasn’t there... It could result in something a lot worse than simply being late for work. The door to Master’s chamber loomed overhead. Not sure if his certain death awaited him, Riplakish sucked in his fears, squared his shoulders, and slowly entered the room.

* * *  

It was 12:03 AM. The baby had been born a few minutes before. She already had a bit of hair; jet black, curly,  and very soft. Her eyes were gray and shone like the moon. She was the tiniest, most beautiful baby the nurses -or any of them, for that matter- had ever seen.

Her mother cuddled her in her arms and tried to think of a perfect name. The baby cooed softly and closed her eyes.

“Leila.” her mother decided.

In a sudden flash of light, a strange hooded being appeared in the small room. Odd as it seemed, only the baby could see the figure. To all the others it was lightning in the storm outside.

The baby heard the man in the hood say something she couldn’t understand with a chilling voice. Everyone else simply thought it was thunder.

After the words stopped, the man vanished. Leila was taken away from her mother by a kind-looking woman with red hair who said it was time for her check-ups to make sure she was healthy.

  * * *

His mission was simple. When he heard the baby’s name, he had to go set the curse. Flash in, do his job, flash out. Simple as that. The master had been merciful. The conversation still spun in his mind...

“You are late. I could incinerate you for keeping me waiting this long.”

“ Master...  a few minutes, that is all. I was only a few minutes late.” he said it before he could realize that arguing was just going to get him killed.

“Fool.. a few minute’s time is enough time for an assassin to sneak in and do away with me.”

“I understand.”

“You have a mission. A very special child has been born. You must find it... uncover the curse. I have been waiting long for an event like this to come to pass.”

“Yes, master.”

He had then set off to find the special child, knowing that if he didn’t the master would not be so merciful as to just give him another assignment. He shuddered as the thought of death crossed his mind. Clearing his throat and ridding his mind of these thoughts, he had left to find the child and do his job.

                                        * * *

The nurses slowly stepped into the room. Their faces were grim.

“Missus, we are ever so sorry. I’m afraid that she never had much of a chance.” One of them said. It was the red-haired lady that had taken Leila for her check-up.

“What are you saying? It can’t be!!” the woman said, looking horrified. The heartbroken mother’s mind was racing. The nurses looked at her sadly, and another nurse spoke up, this one with long black hair in a braid down her back.

“Leila had heart failure. We are ever so sorry, missus. The baby was born too small and could never have made it. You were lucky that you were able to spend a happy moment with her.” she said.

The three nurses left the lady sobbing in her hospital room.

Sleep Deprivation and the Things That Follow

Something very frustrating happened to me today. It's actually been happening for a while now. It's called "being tired in the morning and all throughout school and then getting home and having way too much energy that is spent a little bit on homework and then on being bored because I already finished homework and practicing and I still have all this energy that lasts all night so I can't get to sleep until two and then I wake up and am super tired and start the whole thing over again", and it's extremely annoying. Sometimes it's fun because I get super weird and pretty much everything is funny and awesome, but mostly it's just annoying. 
That is all.

Glistening Palms (Wednesday, Part Three)

I'm finally going to finish this story. It may have an abrupt ending just because I really don't want to be working on this anymore, but at least it will be finished.

At 7:30 on Wednesday night we had a band concert. I got to the Junior High ten minutes early, even though I had ballroom, had to go back to the dance studio to get my phone, changed into concert clothes, and ate dinner. I was very proud of myself. When I got there, I put my clarinet, Colette, together, and hung out with my friends until we warmed up. I talked about high heels with Nephi, Memily, and Jessi, which was really fun and weird. My friend Kira texted me saying "Good lick" and then replied "Sorry luck" (Punctuation is very important. this later became a thing I say often. Good lick, sorry luck.) After we warmed up, we sat in the reserved seats and watched the combined brass piece, the combined sixth and ninth grade woodwind piece, and the sixth grade band concert. I felt kind of sad while watching the sixth grade concert because my little brother was supposed to be in it but was at home, sick (we later found out he had mono). Then it was our turn to play. We got on the stage and played the first song, an arrangement of songs from Wicked. As we were playing, I realized it was a but hot on the stage. I didn't say anything, though, because I get hot really easily and thought it was just me (hardy har har, ridiculously immature eighth graders. Goll.). After we played our arrangement of Pirates, Klingler (no, seriously, it's Klingler, not Kringle) said quietly, "It's really hot up here" and there was a murmur of agreement. I turned to Lillian and said, "Seriously," and showed her my hands. "My palms are glistening." I said. She smiled. "Mine are, too."  

And then we finished the concert and it was a lot of fun and I really like band. 

The (Very Abrupt) End. 

Yorkshire

On Thursday night (two days ago), my older brother opened a letter from the first presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He read the first paragraph to us. 

"Dear Elder Clifford:
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the England Leeds Mission...
... You should report to the England Missionary Training Center on Thursday, July 17, 2014."

It was well exciting. For the next two years, my dad will, whenever possible, speak in a Yorkshire accent. Ian will, too, when he gets back. 
I'm not complaining.   

After he told us where he was going on his mission, we talked about how perfect it was for him, Wallace and Gromit, Hadrian's wall, and a little bit of Top Gear and Catherine Tate. Among other things.