I clenched and unclenched my fists.
I shoved past her, leaving her crying under the trees and ran.  "You're a jerk, you know that?" She sobbed behind me.  I didn't look back, just shivered as her words dug into my wrist. 


[Bunny]
Life must've been a heck of a lot better two hundred years ago when words didn't hurt.
Papa killed mama with his words.  All the pitying stares we got today meant everyone knew it too.  Everyone felt anger towards him, anger that he would kill such a sweet wonderful thing like mama.  Pity that we would be left on our own.  Self-righteous gladness that they hadn't ever said the forbidden words.   Even now papa was being carted off for six years in prison.  People spewing dangerous words weren't to be trifled with, so they were locked up as if it would stop the words from comin.
The funny thing was, he had said the forbidden words before.  Of course we never told; we always stuck by our mama.  And she said we weren't to tell.  She protected him with her words even as he slowly murdered her with his. 
I closed my eyes to the rhythm of the rain and the remembrance of mama's warm cheek pressed against mine and the way it grew cold under my touch as I traced the letters and slowly wept....
i don't love you.  The words danced under my eyelids before I truly fell asleep. 

"they called me names again today."
he pushed up his round glasses.  "and did they hurt you?"
she bit her lip. 
"elsa."
tears swimming in her ruby eyes, she looked up.  "yes." she said.
he put his hands on his knees and smiled at her.  "then let's have a look at it."
hesitantly, she lifted up her pant leg and watched as he puckered his face.  "it's bad today." he finally said.  she showed him her bloody hand too, and he shook his head.
"am i scrawny and ugly, johnny?"
he dabbed cream on her leg and shook his head vehemently.  "nope.  not one bit."
she considered.  "ben said i was."
he pressed hard on her knee and she whimpered in pain.  "i'm sorry!" he dabbed more gently.  "i just don't like it when they call you names."
"they called you names too."
there was no answer.  finally; "what names, els?"
she frowned.  "bad names. about your color.  i told them they were all poop-heads, and that's when they pushed me."
he unwrapped the bandages and gently laid them over first her bruised hand, and then her leg.  "there you go."
she tested it out by swinging her leg in and out.  "why do people call you names?"
"same reason they call you names."
"because- because it's true?"
"no, elsa.  when they call you ugly, they lyin to make themselves feel better. and you know why they're lyin?  cus the truth is that you're right pretty.  pretty as a licorice stick."
she looked down, smiled.  "you reckon?"
"i reckon." he closed his eyes.  "you kinda look like one. all long and pretty and red."
she giggled.  "and you look like a nice yummy chocolate bar, johnny."
he nudged her. "you makin fun?"
she blinked.  "nah-ah.  chocolate is my favorite candy."
"okay." he smiled.  "you wanna go get some?"
she smiled and placed her bandaged hand in his warm black one.  "yah." 

I've been digging through old things lately.  Mainly old letters, (different story for another time) but also some old writing as well.  Yup, I'm digging DEEP.  I've unearthed some lovely tidbits...


ONE:

Everyone thought of me as a beast.  Since the day I had found the magic inside me I was considered different.  People have stretched the truth of what I used to be.  A prince, they said.  As if.  I was nothing but a farmer  And I was happy with that.  Before any of it started.  Before I met Belle.  Before I had become the beast....

Chapter One
Once, long ago, there was a tale of a young man.  Legend says he was cursed by a fairy and turned into a beast.  But if the beast could find someone to give up his human life in exchange for the beast, he would be set free.  Nobody would do it, until the day that a boy be-friended the beast.  The beast, seeing this as the only way out, cursed the boy with the form of a beast and escaped.  And the boy was left in terror, wondering what he would do.  Years passed, and the boy-turned-beast lived on what he could find while he tried to say hidden.  Nobody would go near him.  Nobody but his sister, who loved him with a  love that could never break.  Belle was  my sister.  This is her story.

 TWO:

Chapter One
Me

My story book begins with a once upon a time and a boy named Raegan.  See him over there?  He's rather medium height, stick skinny, with his ordinary brown hair, a small smile, and, well, here's the strange thing- Purple eyes.  Strange, isn't it?  Let's follow him around a bit and see what he does.  This is his story, after all.  At least, that's what he thinks.

I wasn't sure how I'd do this, but I wanted to write a book where the reader is narrating about the character's adventure.  Somehow. 

THREE:

There must have been thousands standing in the rain that day.  I should know; I was one of those people letting the rain soak me and puddle around my boots.  Thunder grumbled half-heartedly in the distance.  Even nature seemed to realize the great loss.  "Eesie-" Someone pulled at my arm.  "We have to leave.  Please, Eesie..."
Rain droned on the hard ground, splashing my tear-streaked face.  "I hate you." The words were a mere whisper, but she heard them all the same. 
"What?"
I clenched and unclenched my fists.
"I hate you."
"You- hate me?" She looked up, and then down.  Her lip was red from where she had clamped down on it, and silent tears rolled down her nose.  White lines formed on her skin, just above her wrist.  They cut deep, but she couldn't feel it.  Or see it, for that matter. Only I could. 
She hates you... The silver words glowed on her skin.  All along her arms I saw the scars shine bright, scars from cruel words out of my own mouth, sentence that had hurt, deep wounds from long ago.  Even as I watched they faded and grew dim, still visible but only just. 
I shoved past her, leaving her crying under the trees and ran.  "You're a jerk, you know that?" She sobbed behind me.  I didn't look back, just shivered as her words dug into my wrist. 

Even if you guys don't pick this one I still want to pursue it more.
Last one!

FOUR:

Thursday was a beautiful, sunny, hot day.  And that's how I remember it.  Bright.  I was in the front seat, Dad was driving.  We had the music going full blast, and nobody was paying much attention to the road.  Not until the sound of a frantic car horn honking in front of us made Dad slam on the brakes.
I remember screams.  Yells.  Horns going off and the sickening crunch of the two cars colliding.  My head hitting the dashboard and the bright sun burning my eyelids as they closed.


There ya have it! Your four options!  You can vote in the comments or by emailing me :)

You might want to sit down with your hot cocoa, because this will take a bit of time. Hopefully you don't get too freaked out.  >:D

If you follow me on Pinterest, or have been reading my blog for the past month-ish, you'll probably  have noticed me saying things like "look!  I found a picture for this character!" or, "I have a name for this character!" (which is actually no longer true because the name I thought I'd found doesn't fit her which is depressing because it means another few months with a nameless character)
Well, I'm going to try to give you a coherent synopsis of my newest story-The 9x7 Dream- without giving away the ending.  Yes this is going to be very difficult so please bare with me.
Basically, I have a seventeen year old main character who's name is still being processed.  She's an orphan and lives with her uncle and aunt and her cousin, who also happens to be one of her best friends.  Here's her and her cousin:

My main character (or, as she'll be known for now, MC) is a dream harvester.  The dream harvesters are a secret society that shouldn't exist.  It's illegal.  But they need smart scientists, like my MC, to help them continue to advance.
Before I keep going, I should tell you what dream harvesters are.  Dream harvesters are looking for one particular dream that they think will help cure their "president" (for lack of a better name). If he's cured, then they believe he'll save their world from its slowly dying society and problems.  Now they think they're justified in doing what's illegal.  But there's good reason why dream harvesting is illegal.  When you get harvested, you lose the ability to talk or really communicate at all.   Not only that but you can no longer sleep, and so you begin to die.  
It's terribly real and our MC has always tried to gloss over those things and go on with everything else she loves about being a harvester. 
She LOVES her job.  Too much.  Working with expensive equipment and challenging the laws of science- she loves it, and just tries not to think about the affects her job has on others, although her conscience reminds her at every turn.  Her uncle (who she lives with and looks up to like a father) has told her time and again he thinks she shouldn't be involved, but now that she's in she can't back out.  You see, the harvesting society shouldn't exist.  And if a harvester goes out and starts spreading rumors about it, it would be down with the society.  So once you're in, you can't get out until you die.
 
That hasn't really bothered our MC until one day someone from her own family gets harvested, and it suddenly gets real.  Not only this but the harvesters used a new form of harvesting that could potentially decrease the time of dying by months at a time, a new technology piece that the MC has never agreed with.  Now she's in a race against time to find an antidote for the harvested before they all die.  She's also realizing that the president isn't who he has claimed to be, and he may not be looking for one dream, but sixty-three.  Questions abound and MC finds herself caught up in  tangle of lies she's spread and terrible truths she will soon have to face. 


You all get brownie points for reading that!!  And if you guessed the relationship between my title and the president needing sixty three dreams, then I'll send you a whole pan of brownies.  :) :)