Morning blues

Disclaimer: The characters, events and places portrayed in this post are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person dead or alive is purely coincidental. None of the matter in this post is to be copied in any way. No ideas are allowed to be stolen from here. If I see any such practice, dire consequences will ensue.

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I pulled my blanket over my head; it was cold in my room and as any cold adolescent, I felt very lazy.
Abruptly, I felt something on my stomach and heard it squawk. Talon, my ‘I-won't-let master-loaf-around’ phoenix. I rolled over in an attempt to get him off, but he seemed to understand my intentions, and in spite, he clawed off my blanket, and jabbed at my head like a woodpecker.
"Ouch!" I pushed him off my bed. "Did it really require that!?" But Talon merely perched proudly on the head end of my bed, and ruffled his feathers.
I slid my legs off the bed and yawned, moving my long, uncombed hair to my back. "Fine, I'm up!"
I opened the window to let the haughty bird out, closed it after him, pulled down the blinds, and habitually knocked on the wall behind my table. No, I wasn't on plate 639 anymore; no longer in a small room, living next door to her. I was at home-where I should have been living since I was eight, but had only been doing so for about a month.
Their memories had been retrieved, and my parents had brought us to our new home. Though this was what we had been fighting so hard for, I still couldn't stomach the fact that it was all over; that I wouldn't have to use my bow and arrows anymore, that we had reached our goal, and parted, never to hear from each other ever again.
I pulled on my jacket, and lit up the fireplace.
"Mark!" it was my sister- Jasmine's voice. "Mother says you should come out quickly and go to bath."
"Alright." I replied, "I'm coming."
A different sight greeted me when I walked out of my room. Mother was dressed up in special attire, and so were Father and Jasmine! "Mark, cousin Aiden's old suit is already in the bathroom. Now be a dear and take a quick bath." Mother then rushed off somewhere else. Then, it hit me. "Father, does this mean that Grandmother and Grandfather are coming?"
"Yes" he answered, "Don't forget, we are to be at our neatest and on our best behaviour when they arrive.’Aven' is what you will be called. Now do hurry to bath and call if you need help with the clothes."
I rushed with my bath as I was told to. Grandmother and Grandfather were the most highly respected in our family, and had been reigning over Plate 371 for several decades. I had only seen them once before- on my uncle's wedding back when I was five. Every member of the family had to wear special attire, and looked like grown-ups and kids going to the same school. Grandmother looked very kind, though I didn't get to spend any time with her. Grandfather looked strict, and scary. Throughout the time, I was cowering behind Mother, hugging her legs, also in that dress code.

I stepped out of the bathtub, and started getting dry. I wondered what Grandfather and grandmother would think of us. I was still a shy person; would they be alright with that? I hoped so.

The clothes I was to wear looked princely, and probably were. The shoes looked uncomfortable, and had long laces. I managed to get all but the latter on, and had to ask for help. I tied my hair, as neatly as possible, and looked at myself in the mirror. “Dashing.” I laughed, as I picked up the shoes and walked outside to a chair.
“Father! How am I to tie these laces?” I called, practicing that politeness which I had to show them when they came.
He came, helped me out and then left again to help Mother get things ready.

“Aven and Azalea, Don't forget.” Mother reminded us. “Could both of you stand outside to wait for them?”

I gulped. “Y-yes Mother.” Jasmine-I mean, Azalea, and I walked carefully outside, and waited in the courtyard.

After ten minutes, Mother and Father joined us.
“Be careful, kids.” Father warned. “They’ll just appear out of nowhere.”
Out of nowhere indeed, a grand horse-cart trotting to our doorstep wasn't very obvious, was it?”

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This has been lying in the drafts for a long, long time, so I thought I'd just give it a shot and publish it.
I hope you like it :)

Plate Of Memories

This is part of a long story, which I've been working on for a while now.

Disclaimer:Just know that, If you're planning on saying you wasted your time on this, It's your own fault for reading it, not mine or any of the members of this blog.

So, here I serve you, Plate Of Memories, Part I. Enjoy!

Chapter I

The boy walked cautiously onto the battlefield, where the dust flew, and the battles raged. He wondered whether he would be able to win the final, for that was the phase of the tournament. He took a glance at his opponent,Clad in dark yellow armour, A helmet on his head, a brown cloth across his jaw, leaving only his eyes revealed, as dark and mysterious as you could get.

The boy gulped. Was this really the one he had to beat to win the tournament? He took a step forward, then another, till he reached his starting position. His opponent seemed to be staring right at him, as if going to eat him for dinner.

The boy heard the ring, signalling the start of the battle. His opponent raised his sword, Large, yellow and translucent. The boy held up his bow, taking aim, he fired, but his opponent merely stepped to a side, dodging it effortlessly.

The boy gulped. What could he do now? He kept firing arrows like there was no tomorrow. His opponent slashed them away, feeling a bit of difficulty this time. The boy pulled a special arrow from his quiver, then aimed it at his opponent, on his knees, still tired from the assault. The arrow shone, The boy concentrated on his opponent's chest, then fired. “Blast shot!”

His opponent held his sword in front of him, the arrow hit it, but kept trying to break through, he understood that it was impossible to block, he tilted his sword to a side, sending the arrow on its way, ripping a part of his sleeve on the way.

The boy panted. “Oh no. My strongest attack...”

then, as he blinked, his opponent was nowhere to be seen. The boy gulped. “I'm dead.”

All of a sudden, he felt a warm presence behind him, but that wasn't all, there seemed to be something flat, and sharp at his throat, The boy didn't dare move, if his opponent sword so much as touched his neck, it would slit his throat, killing him A tear rolled down his cheek.

“You lose.” He heard his opponent say, in a genderless voice.

“The winner, is BranchedIce diner, plate 639! Congratulations!” came an announcement, as the large broadcasting screen turned off.

The boy felt the sword at his neck disappearing, he fell to his knees. He was glad to be alive, for then. But for some reason, he felt suspicious of his opponent, he was just standing beside him, like a shadow, maybe he still wanted to kill him and was only waiting for the broadcasting to stop.

The boy looked at him. He noticed something he hadn't noticed before, his opponent was only as tall as him,and from the look of his pure, black eyes, he seemed as young too.

His opponent took a look at him, then started walking to a side, the boy watched, as he seemed to suddenly dash in front of him. Holding his sword away from the boy, horizontally, like a shield, the boy heard a clink.

“Oh darn, it seems I've missed.” he heard a voice, far in front, The boy stood up, peering over his opponent's shoulder. There was the boss of his chain of restaurants. With a lower-status person near him, but what made the boy gasp was what that man had at his side, a little girl, with white hair, and deep red eyes, scared to death.

The boss tossed the gun to the grunt. Who caught it.

“Sister!” The boy cried. As the grunt pointed the gun to her head.

“Now, my order,” The boss said. “Kill the swordsman.”

The boy caught his opponent from behind, pointing an arrow at his neck. But, his hand was shaking, He had to, but could he? Tears of hesitation rolled down his cheek.

He closed his eyes, not wanting time to pass, hoping that somehow, He and his sister would both be alive at the end of this dilemma. He wished in his heart, that time itself could stop for a while, and he could stand staring into his sister's eyes for one last time.

But instead of a gunshot, the boy heard a cry. “Ice!”

He waited for the bang of the pistol, which would signal his sister's end. He waited, in fear and anxiety. For ten long and cold seconds. Nothing was happening. He opened his eyes, slowly. The grunt and boss, they seemed to be frozen in time, just as the boy had wished, was this a dream? his sister seemed as confused as him.”Hey um, what just happened?” she asked,

The boy's opponent struggled to speak. “Can you let me go now?” he stuttered.

The boy did so, as his opponent fell to his knees, panting. “Now.” he said, “Go free her. And then come with me.”

The boy looked at his opponent in surprise, “What?”

“I'll explain later,” he said, standing up. “Now let's go save her.”

they ran to the girl's side, pulling away the grunt's arm around the girl, as well as the gun. She was free now.

“um, What's happening?” she asked the boy.

The boy looked at his opponent, who seemed to be signalling them to follow him, they walked to the doorway through which he came, where another girl with black hair and eyes was standing, “Come on, there's not much time.”

The boy saw his opponent nod.“You can release them now.”

The girl muttered. “water.”, then ran with the other three through the room, to the main corridor of the building, turning left.

“Um, can you please explain to me what's going on?” The boy asked his opponent.

“I'll tell you later,” he replied, then turned to the girl. “take them to the station, while I get the tickets.”

he turned to the boy. “take this.” he handed a note to him. “that should explain a little.”

The boy read it, as they ran through.

I request feedback on it, since I want to know whether it is as lame as I think, or whether it isn't that bad. Please, If you have time, tell me what you think. I don't mind mean comments, I just want an honest opinion. If you have an opinion and time, please post it.

Thank you for your time.

Amita

A Fairy Story

Part I

           In March, the summer officially arrives.  We renew an annual tradition at home. Children are given small shiny bowls to collect pieces of nature that remind them of the coming season. We all have our small bowls and go for a walk in the nearby fields. It is fun. Then comes the interesting part. We keep the bowls on the stairs of my house and go to play. Guess what? The bowls are then filled with mouth watering strawberry ice creams.

          This summer, we had my brother with us. He was new to this traditional festival because he lived in a boarding school till last year.
          We all started eating the ice cream without no amusement because it was something usual for us. We left the bowls. Went to play. Came back. Saw the ice creams. And, GULP! It was all over! Actually, none of us knew how the ice cream came. The thing was that none of us ever cared about who supplied the ice cream because everyone was afraid that the ice cream supplier would stop giving us ice creams.
          I noticed my brother staring at the bowl in his hand. He didn't know what to do with it. I ignored him because he had that "I aM hApPy WiTh WhaT i HaVe" attitude.

Part II

          At night he was told to sleep near me. I always hated sleeping near him. I had my reasons. He would kick me 'till i fall off the bed and I would have to sleep on the floor. But today was a bit different. He stared at me for quite a very long time. At last he asked me, 

          "Who did it?''

          'Who did what?' I asked.

          "The ice creams."

          'Oh, you still have that in your head?'

          "Yes. Tell me the reason. Was it the fairies?"

                    Obviously, a ten year old would think something like that. But I had to say something. I was too tired to argue with him. I had to think of a reason that would do good for both him and me.

          'Yes, I did it! I took the neighbour's help.'

          "Liar!"

         He actually thought that it was the fairies who did it. He would wink at me each time we saw the ice cream filled bowls. But who is going to tell me the truth?

        I still think about this when every one else was having his good night sleep.

                                                                                                  Aiswarya Keyan

                                                                                                         Class VII