CAA: Christian Anime Alliance

This is a story I wrote explaining why creative hyperactive people seem to be in space all the time.


I crept quietly from the door of the castle. Whatever was out there, I was sure to meet it in the cold light of the full moon. I readied my sword...a rustling in the brush nearby! I spun to meet the snarling beast face to face. Claws and steel ground against each other, feet and paws digging for purchase on rough terrain. Aaron....Aaron....Aaron....



"AARON!"
"NYAH!!" I screamed as I was rudely awoken from my dream. I picked my head up off my desk. Wiping the thin line of drool off my cheek, I glared at my friend Alyssa, AKA Quary (don't ask me where she came up with the spelling, it’s pronounced KORee) grinning at my lack of attention for grammar.
"There better be a good explanation for interrupting a perfectly good dream." I muttered against the chatter of students talking. Again she smiled, her teeth practically swallowing her face up.
"Study hall's almost over. You don't want to miss home ec, do ya?" Quary said a bit too chipper for my I'm-half-asleep-five-more-minutes-Mom disposition at the time. I heard a groan to my right, along with the sound of a supposedly over-stressed student's head hitting the polished hardwood on her desk. I looked over at my other friend Ashley, who was bringing her head up for more punishment. "Forget your homework?" I commented, knowing full well the answer. She sighed.
"Yup, and it's 'cause my book's somewhere."
"Just somewhere?" Quary asked.
"So, in other words, you lost it at the away game to East Grand, didn't you?" I smirked as I made the remark.
"I had it in the van!" Ash retorted.
"Really..."
"I remember taking it out."
"Whatever."
"I do! I...just can't remember where I put it."
"Smooth."
"Shut up."
"Don't feel like it."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....." She gave a look that can freeze me on the spot (the only other person that can do that is my sister), and what do you know, I froze on the spot (told ya). A Winchester bell went off, one of the quirks of being in a small school. Home ec was usually everyone's favorite class. I walked out of Mrs. Steven’s' classroom, Ashley and Quary right behind me.
"What're we doing today home ec, anyhoo?" Quary said as she looked back and blondly skipped down the hall, narrowly missing the wall that hangs out from the girl’s bathroom.
Ashley sullenly replied,"I don't know. Don't have my book anyway... I grinned.
"What?!?"
"Nutin...,â€

Due to post length, here's the second part...

One year later . . .



The voice seemed to come from everywhere, calling my name and telling me that they loved me, and that they cared what happened to me . . .


I woke up, sweat covering my now-fifteen-year-old body. I gasped in deep breaths to try to calm my racing heart. That was the third time this had happened. Odd. Rolling my neck and savoring the popping sound that issued from my spaced-starved head holder, I watched the sunrise. The sound of the lumber mill near my house was already in full gear, grinding out a tune that mixed like oil and water with the sound of the birds outside my window. Reality came like an overfed Mac truck hitting my head. First day of school! How had things been over the summer for all my friends? Had Chad actually grown up from his antics as my partner-in-crime last year? Had Deidre broken the record for having the most crushes in one summer? Had Jordain stopped her obsession with death? Would the class be silent without Quary’s little squeaky voice serenading us to our nerves’ end?
“Definitely.â€

Any more?

Hmmm...I'm not working on it 24-7, a bit here, a bit there, I'll post another good part soon.

ok

After I dragged my thoroughly busted brain (and the body that comes with it) through the door, I threw my bag on the floor and slouched in one of the bar stools we have in the kitchen. I was just about to dive into my after-school snack, when the phone started ringing in mid-bite. I sighed and dropped my toast. Everyone always has to call in mid-snack, I complained to myself. I get no decency from anyone anymore.

“Hello?â€

People of Britian, forgive me if I have misdiscribed you.

After a stern dressing-down about making fun of copyrighted Japanese cartoons, I trudged into my class. To top it off, I got in late and had to explain to the teacher for five minutes why it was bad to watch Cartoon Network late at night after drinking mixtures of Sobe energy drinks and chocolate YooHoo’s. Reaching my seat, I received my books and promptly began vandalizing the ones I could (actually, vandalization is too harsh a word. I prefer . . . personalizing.). We finished looking at our subject matter and drifted into conversation of what we did over our summer . . .

SMACK! The glove hit my cold face, bringing me back from my state of blackness. A crooked face with a nasty mouth, filled with gold teeth and animal cracker remains, leered into my face.
“Good h’evening, Comrade prisoner. I hope you enjoyed your nap.â€

I have to log off, but what I've read I like. I like how you said her teeth swallowed her face. That was a great metaphor. *hehe*

How many lives do you have? What makes them different/Why separate them?

...good point...I'm not sure. I was going for Walter Mitty feel to it, but I'm not sure I got that much.

http://everydaystranger.mu.nu/archives/004190.html

http://www.storybites.com/thurbermitty.htm

http://www.southerncrossreview.org/29/thurber.htm

I see.

I say it's okay to fantasize, but keep your mind grounded in reality. Don't try to have more than one life/persona. It will only get you in trouble to pretend to be more than one person at a time.

It also hurts, your body splitting in half like that.

Rot? Rot? What's that?

ah...(nods head knowledgebly)