Post by dank on Aug 27, 2005 16:20:46 GMT -5
Alright, I already have this thing at GD, but I'll go ahead and put it here too, especially seeing how dead GD is lately...
This is the first page of a fantasy story I am currently writing. I'll tell you more later, and probly give you some more excerpts, but for right now, heres this:
Chapter 1:
The Knife
Phillip knew that he could not continue running much longer. He needed to rest, but there was nowhere safe. He needed to make it out of the city, where his parents couldn’t find him. The trouble was, he lived in the heart of New York.
Then he saw Central Park coming up ahead of him. Maybe there was a good hiding place there. He was wary of everything around him, concentrating mainly on not making a spectacle of himself, and making sure he could not see or hear his parents. If he couldn’t see or hear them, they couldn’t see or hear him. That is why he didn’t see the root. It was a monster of a tree root, but Phillip was preoccupied, and in his haste, he didn’t see it until it was too late. He fell with a sickening thud.
* * *
Phillip awoke with a pounding headache. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but his pain made him wish he still was.
He tried to go to sleep again, but it was in vain. He tried for what seemed like hours, but eventually, resigned, he gave up. He opened his eyes and struggled instead to sit up.
He was startled to find that he was no longer in Central Park. He was, in fact, not in any part of New York that he could recognize.
He found himself instead on a bed in a circular hut that looked like something from the fantasy books he enjoyed so much. He was reminded of Hagrid’s hut from Harry Potter, but currently, that was irrelevant. Where was he? How had he gotten there? He was bursting with questions, but there was no one in the room, so none were being answered.
Because there was no one in sight, he decided that he would get up and look around. Standing up was a slow and painful process, and several times he fell backward onto the bed. He couldn’t understand what the problem was at first, he was so numb from shock, but it didn’t take long before he realized that it was very difficult to bend his right knee. Looking at his knee, he discovered that it was bandaged, but the bandages were soaked with blood, and blood was seeping around the edges. He began to feel sick, and fell back onto the bed. He was feverish, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
and chris, i kno that ur mad i stopped there, dont worry. ill give u more later.
This is the first page of a fantasy story I am currently writing. I'll tell you more later, and probly give you some more excerpts, but for right now, heres this:
Chapter 1:
The Knife
Phillip knew that he could not continue running much longer. He needed to rest, but there was nowhere safe. He needed to make it out of the city, where his parents couldn’t find him. The trouble was, he lived in the heart of New York.
Then he saw Central Park coming up ahead of him. Maybe there was a good hiding place there. He was wary of everything around him, concentrating mainly on not making a spectacle of himself, and making sure he could not see or hear his parents. If he couldn’t see or hear them, they couldn’t see or hear him. That is why he didn’t see the root. It was a monster of a tree root, but Phillip was preoccupied, and in his haste, he didn’t see it until it was too late. He fell with a sickening thud.
* * *
Phillip awoke with a pounding headache. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but his pain made him wish he still was.
He tried to go to sleep again, but it was in vain. He tried for what seemed like hours, but eventually, resigned, he gave up. He opened his eyes and struggled instead to sit up.
He was startled to find that he was no longer in Central Park. He was, in fact, not in any part of New York that he could recognize.
He found himself instead on a bed in a circular hut that looked like something from the fantasy books he enjoyed so much. He was reminded of Hagrid’s hut from Harry Potter, but currently, that was irrelevant. Where was he? How had he gotten there? He was bursting with questions, but there was no one in the room, so none were being answered.
Because there was no one in sight, he decided that he would get up and look around. Standing up was a slow and painful process, and several times he fell backward onto the bed. He couldn’t understand what the problem was at first, he was so numb from shock, but it didn’t take long before he realized that it was very difficult to bend his right knee. Looking at his knee, he discovered that it was bandaged, but the bandages were soaked with blood, and blood was seeping around the edges. He began to feel sick, and fell back onto the bed. He was feverish, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
and chris, i kno that ur mad i stopped there, dont worry. ill give u more later.