Genie

***YAY!! Another story. Whoohoo!! Yeah...Anyway, this one is more recent. I'm kinda noticing that I have actually written as much stories (or beginnings of stories) as I thought I have. but, yeah. This one isn't very good either but, I'm just going to skip all the talking and let you read it.****

p.s.oh and I'm thinking about not making this blog private anymore because not very much people get to read it. (but thanks to the people who do.!)

p.s.s. I was going to say something else, but I forgot... Oh yeah! I just copied and pasted this from kidpub, so the authors note is still at the bottom. (I would still appreciate the critisims though, if your feeling critical. Or if it's just really crappy.)

p.s.s.s. oh, and this has nothing to do with Genie's name. The title kinda gives the story away. lol

Genie ~ Chapter 1

“My.Legs.”

I smiled as I heard my older sister, Liz, flop onto the feathery hotel bed.

“Someone’s out of shape…” I teased.

“I am not out of shape. I’m just not used to skiing down a mountain all day, especially when someone,” she threw a glance my way but I continued looking out the window, “insists on all of the blue and black trails.”

“Whatever.” I said, grinning as I pried myself from the window sill and reached down to touch my toes.

“What were you looking at anyway?” she asked as I walked by, her tone sullen.

I shrugged. “Just the sky.”

“Weirdo.”

I rolled my eyes and kept walking.

“Mia, can you go pick up dinner from Tony’s down the street?” My mom emerged from the bathroom in tights and a long-sleeved thermal. “I ordered take-out since it’s our last night and everything.”

“Yeah, sure Mom.” I needed to get out of the teeny hotel room anyway. I could hear Liz turn the TV on down the hall and my need to get out doubled. There is no way I could endure another MTV reality show without stabbing something, hard. I eyed the room down the hall suspiciously then turned my attention back to my mom who was shuffling in her purse for something. Her hands emerged carrying a twenty dollar-bill while simultaneously spilling a tube of lipstick, her wallet, and a handful of receipts. I reached down to pick up the assorted junk and handed it all to her in return for the twenty.

“Thanks honey.” She said, setting her purse on the counter and tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear.

“No problem,” I replied with a smile, slipping on my shoes and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

I felt better instantly as the cool winter breeze lashed at my face and I walked out onto the sidewalk. Tony’s was only two blocks away and I was glad to stretch out my legs after a long day of skiing. As much as I liked to tease her, Liz was right. Skiing took a lot out of you. I sighed and looked around.

Winter Park Village was alight with neon signs and Christmas lights. They danced around the night sky illuminating it with an altogether sense of cheeriness. I smiled sadly. As much as I’d hate to admit it, I wasn’t exactly up for going back to home. It had always been the three of them, a bundle of joy, and now there family was being torn apart.

Liz was being shipped away to some weird collage in Rode Island so she could learn to be a fashion designer. Even with our personalities clashing all week we still managed to get some “sister bonding time” as Mom called it. I laughed at the memory of Liz tumbling down the mountain, her skis twisted in a pretzel, and me racing to catch up with her. She spent the all of the next day in the ski lodge, sipping hot chocolate insisting that there was no way they were getting her back on that death trap and she that didn’t care if they already paid for her skis. Mom actually threatened to drag her out to the chair lift if she didn’t get her butt over there herself before Liz stomped out of lodge.

I sighed. And Mom, Mom was going to law school in upstate New York for the rest of the summer while I’m getting booted out of the apartment to go live with Aunt Jean in New Jersey, who is in all honesty, the strictest lady I have ever met. Because Mom has to get a smaller apartment to pay for Liz’s tuition until she finishes law school. She insists that this will be the last summer I’ll ever have to spend alone. Not that I’m complaining or anything. I love Long Beach Island, but one can only take so much Aunt Jean.

I sighed. I never understood why she wanted to become a lawyer. It just doesn’t make any sense. Nobody looks at Mom and thinks, lawyer. The same way nobody looks at a monkey and thinks, dentist. It’s just not part of her personality. But nonetheless, Mom wanted to be a lawyer, and when Mom puts her mind to do something, it gets done. And that’s how I’ve been spending every summer since I was eight with Aunt Jean. Five summers. I thought I was going to kill Liz when she found out she didn’t have to go anymore. She wouldn’t let me forget it for a week.

I looked ahead and squinted through the snow that was beginning to fall lightly out of the sky. I could see the red neon sign that was declaring loudly that Tony’s was the best Italian food in all of Colorado. I looked harder and could slowly make out a dark figure standing just below the sign. As I got closer I could tell it was a boy about my age rocking from side to side casually like he was trying to get warm but wasn’t actually cold. There was something odd about him. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was, the way he held himself or something. He was wearing a navy, light sweatshirt and jeans. I was still pondering him when a family approached the restaurant and he opened the door closing it softly behind them.

Wow. Most guys my age would never stand outside in the cold to open doors for people. I glanced at him again as he blowed into his hands to keep warm. Voluntarily anyway.

I turned the corner and walked up the steps as he reached to open the door. I could get a better look a him now. He was slightly taller than I was with black hair and bright green eyes. I had to admit, he was pretty hot.

“Thanks.” I said and began walking through the door but was stopped by a question.

“Are you meeting somebody here?” His voice was completely normal, exactly like every other teenage boy her age, and yet there was something completely different about it, something that set him out from everyone else. I frowned trying to figure out the distinction and then blinked, his question startling me.

“Nope. I’m just picking up takeout for my family. It’s our last night here so we decided to go crazy.”

“Well, Tony’s does have the best Italian food in all of Colorado.” he replied, laughing.

“What about you? Do you work for someone in there?” I asked. Maybe he was the son of the chef or something.

He smiled. “Something like that.”

Before I had a chance to ponder his answer a large gust of wind whipped my hair around my face and a family bustled through the open door.

“Oh my.” A large woman gasped, hustling her kids down the sidewalk and into the street.

“Well, I probably won’t see you again but…” I let my voice trail off. But what? I shook my head feeling confused by the strange conversation we were having.

“It’s was nice talking.” He finished for me. “And you never know. People have a funny way of meeting again.”

I smiled and walked through the door. Emerging a few minutes later carrying the spicy smells of tortellini and pizza, still slightly shaken. I was about to confront him and ask…well, I don’t really know what I was going to ask, but I was definitely going to figure out why he was acting so strange. But he was gone. It was then that I realized I never even found out his name. Frowning I searched the ground where he was standing for foot prints but there was nothing.

No sign that he had ever been there at all.

Author's Note:

I hope you liked it! Please comment because constructive criticism is welcome. (really I'm not kidding, please do.)

Charlotte

***Okay, this is something I wrote a while ago, and this is as far as I ever got. I'm pretty sure I know what the rest would be like, but I never got around to it. I know it's horrible, and there's some things I was really close to taking out (that stupid thing about Jhonny and Mr. Gerd and then that horrific simile about the sea bass) but I wanted everybody to see what it was like originally. Also, there's a lot of bad cliche figurative language.***

Prolouge

Beep...Beep...Beep...

I groaned inwardly. Stupid alarm clock, was I seriously time to get up already? My head felt foggy and throbbed lightly as I tried to remember what I could have done to make it hurt like that. I took a deep breath and inhaled something strange. I concentrated for a moment, trying place to the smell.It was probably just Grams trying to cook breakfast again. It didn't smell edible, but then again, nothing Grams cooked ever tasted or smelled edible. So I ignored it. Squeezing my eyes shut, I fell into a deep trance within seconds.

Beep...Beep...Beep...

I bit my lip, trying not to get too annoyed. All I wanted was a few extra minutes of sleep before I had to lug myself out of bed and off to school (a.k.a. the worst place on earth). Was that honestly too much to ask for? Just a few more minutes, that’s all I need. Just a few more minutes...

Beep...Beep...Beep...

Sighing deeply, and with great mental force, I began to roll over, but was stopped mid-turn by the excruciating pain that exploded in my body. It sped through me and centered on my legs at a speed that rivaled quite a few NASCAR drivers. I gasped in agony. My right leg felt like it was decomposing at a rapid speed, as if every cell was slowly tearing itself apart. Then the realization hit my head full force, (which didn’t help the headache much), and I remembered.

I wasn’t at home.

Chapter 1

 I live in a small town. I go to a small school. My Grandma owns a small apartment. You get the idea. Every year we have this festival to celebrate the “birthday” of our town. (Which was sometime in early 1800’s.) Mr. Maynard, our mayor, makes a big deal out of it. There are fireworks of dangerous proportions, the biggest pie-eating contest you’ve ever seen, and the oldest Farris wheel in the state.

It’s always my favorite time of year because it’s the only time the whole town gets together and actually has a good time. Mr. Gerd doesn’t fight with Mrs. Powell and Johnny doesn’t jump off buildings just to get attention. It’s the one night in the whole year when everyone is happy.

This year was just as great. Katie (my best friend) and I were walking around the Central Plaza in front of city hall, slurping cherry red Popsicles as she talked about how cute Jack is and how absolutely adorable that t-shirt he wore on Friday was. I rolled my eyes and let my mind wander savoring every last lick of my Popsicle.

Looking around, I spotted my cousins, Cameron and Eric (even though they were only 6 months older than me, they both acted like they knew everything). They were surrounded by a bunch of girls who apparently thought they were as cool as they "looked". (Haha) Eric told a joke and all of the girls erupted in a high-pitched giggling that strongly resembled a pack of hyenas. I snorted.

“What do you think I should do?” Katie’s voice tore my gaze away from my cousins, and back to her.

“Huh? Oh, um…”

“You weren’t listening were you.”

“I was listening, I always listen! Sometimes, I just get a little distracted.”

“Well, I was saying-“

“Hey.” A voice from behind us called. A voice I recognized very well. Josh.

“Hi!” Katie called, and shot me a look. I rolled my eyes.

Glancing at Josh, I replied, “Hi.”

He grinned at me. “We were wondering if maybe you guys would like to come with us to watch the fireworks show.”

“We’d love to!” Katie answered. I glared at her. Was it absolutely necessary for her to speak in exclamation points? But then I remembered.

“I can’t. Sorry, I promised I’d help my grandma clean the house because my parents are coming tomorrow.” You should have seen the look on Katie’s face, I almost burst out laughing right there.
“Oh, okay. That’s cool.” He replied.

“Sorry.”

“No problem, Katie will come right?”

“Yeah!”

“See you later?”

“Yeah, bye.”

Chapter 2

A shrieking noise filled my eardrums, making them throb in an unsteady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. My right leg flooded with pain, as if a dam had broken releasing a huge tidal wave of throbbing terror. The shrieking noise got louder, and I suppressed the urge to press my hands against my ears. Instead I grabbed the crisp white sheets and balled them into my fists as I gasped for breath. The pain lasted no longer than a few seconds before slowly easing away, leaving me dizzy. The shrieking subsided and I realized that it had been me. A stampede of nurses came running into my hospital room (one of them carrying a suspiciously long needle), muttering:

“What happened?” a particularly strict nurse was saying, “You were supposed to give her enough anesthesia to last until the morning, when Dr.Stone does the surgery.”

“I did, she should be out cold,” another stammered.

“Okay, well give her some pain medicine, and put her back to sleep.”

I heard some shuffling to my right, and a few seconds later felt the cold liquid shoot out my IV and crawl up my veins. My vision started blurring, and my eyelids felt heavy. Blackness engulfed me and I welcomed it like an old friend, I smiled, as I slowly drifted back to sleep…

**
“Okay, Grams. I stirred in the vanilla, now what?”

The heat from the oven filled our minuscule apartment like well confined sauna, making my hair stick to my face.

“Pour it into the crust so we can put it in the oven.”
I lifted the thick metal bowl that was probably three time the size of my head, and pored the tongue-colored goo into the pie crust.

“Perfect,” my grandma said as she swooped passed me and carefully placed the pie into the oven. As I crossed the hallway to open a window I called, “Grams, why do we have to cook for them? They’re only staying for one night, and it’s not like they care about what they eat. They’re to busy”

“Your parents have been working very hard, and they deserve a good, wholesome meal. You know that honey.”
I rolled my eyes at her back.

“Whatever. I’m going to-“

“If every body could make their way to the stadium not, the show is about to begin. I repeat, the show is about to begin.” The mayor’s voice boomed through our apartment and seemed to vibrate off every piece of furniture we owned (which wasn’t a lot, trust me). He didn’t need to saw what show, everybody knew, the firework show was about to begin.
I had a great idea. I’d get the best view in the whole town.
“I’m going to watch the fireworks show. On the roof. I’ll be back soon!”
I scurried out the front door and up the rusty metal steps before Grams could even put down her wooden spoon. When I reached the thick wooded doorway marked with the words ,“authorized personnel only,” I slipped my jagged key into the ancient lock and turned the handle with a faint click.