Six beginnings of stories that I wrote for fun.

1

I was determined, I am determined and I will always be determined to be original.

I prided myself upon the fact that I was different – I still pride myself on that fact with is now true again – but I went through a time where I became one of those bitchy, catty girls. (You know the kind.) My entire principal of not being like them collapsed for a brief moment – I got sucked into their world inadvertently; how that was possible still remains unknown to me to this day.

But I will retell the story; I want original girls out there to never get involved in what happened to me. I know that the way I say it makes it sound very dramatic. But it is. All those rumors at school – ones you hope you will never be the object of – started to revolve around me.

I never meant for it to happen, yet it did.

This is my tale (to put it dramatically...).

2

Wiping sweat from my brow, I took a swig of water. I was exhausted from all that fighting.

“I didn't hurt you too much, did I?” Mark asked.

“As if!” I snorted. “I may be a girl, but I'm still stronger than you. The question is, are you okay?”

He didn't seem okay, he was still breathing hard and bruises were already appearing. He denied any pain, though. Typical. Always gotta prove that he's tougher.

He's not.

To prove my point I punched him lightly on the arm. He winced in pain and I laughed.

“Laugh all you want, Zoe,” he said. “Just remember, 'He who laughs last, thinks the slowest.'”

I cringed. He was referring to that time I was the last to laugh at a joke told by the most popular guy in school. Mark was also referring to the fact that he's smarter than me. But he can't even fight girls – although I'm a special case. I don't know exactly what I am. I'm not sure if there's a name for it.

The best thing would be “Slayer”, like in that TV show and several books. But that's fiction. This is my life, this is real. I guess that's what I am, in a way – a slayer. I do have the same strength as vampires – which do exist in my life – and I do have to kill them. Only the bad ones, though.

“Training's over,” Mark said, just as the bell rang.

“See you after school,” I said, grabbing my school bag and leaving the gym.

During lunch and after school, I train. Then around six, I sneak out of the house to kill vampires. Of course I have to track them first, find the evil ones. It's a lot of work and responsibility. But unlike that show – Buffy the vampire slayer – there are several girls like me in the world. I think it's something like five per country. I don't know how many countries there are in the world, but it basically means that there are a lot of “slayers”...

And oh yeah. Here's another fact about me: I'm only fifteen. Which might seem crazy to you, a fifteen year old fighting vampires and killing them, but I assure you: I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I'm actually stronger than any human in the entire world. Apart from girls like me, other “slayers”.

“Hey, Zoe,” Andy said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You awake?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Of course I was awake. I was just thinking about stuff.”

“Uh uh. You're gonna be late. Again,” she added.

“No, I won't, Andrea.” We headed to my locker.

“Well, I can't wait for you because otherwise I'll be late as well.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder then left. “See ya in class. And you will be late.”

“I won't,” I called back.

Exactly one second before the second bell rang, I sat down in History. The bell rang as soon as my butt touched the chair. I threw Andy a look of glory. “Ha! Told ya,” the look said.

Andy rolled her eyes. I smiled back at her sweetly. See? I'm an angel, I'd never be late for class. I got my notebook out and pen. Ready to take notes.

Perfect student. Except for when I ditch class because the world is about to end and I'm the only one in town who can save it.

You know, apart from that.

“Don't you wish we could be outside?” I asked Andy as we were leaving class. “I mean look at that!”

Andy looked out the window then turned back to me. “You know what, Zoe? You're not made for school.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, eyes wide open, an incredulous look on my face. I gave her another sweet angel smile.

“You know what I mean. If it wasn't for me you'd never be here. I know that I can't stop you from ditching when it's important, but if it wasn't for me you'd ditch on beautiful days like this.”

By important she meant save-the-world kind of important. She knows about my duty and covers for me all the time.

“Ah! Beautiful. So you agree. Come on, school's almost over, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping...”

“Stay,” Andy said, as if I was an unobedient dog. Which I am. Unobedient, I mean. Obviously I'm not a dog.

“Fine,” I grumbled. Andy remained unconvinced. She'll be keeping an eye on me all day, now. Making sure I don't ditch. Ugh.

I cast one last look out at the June scenery then made my way to Biology. Andy followed me closely, only leaving at the last possible second for her next lesson.

3

Emmeline broke the kiss to answer her phone. “Hello?” she said breathlessly. Her boyfriend, Andy, sighed behind her. He wanted her to hang up.

“What?” he heard her say. What could be more important than him? Didn't she want to get back to making out? Grinning, Andy started nibbling Emma's neck.

“Just a sec,” Emmeline said. She held the phone away and covered it with one hand. “Andy! Stop it, it's my dad.” Then into the phone she said, “What about mom?”

Andy fell back onto her bed. They were in her house and he'd been hoping to have some time alone with her. Her parents were gone shopping and her eleven year old sister was at a friend's. It was perfect. So of course there just had to be some sort of interruption.

“I'm coming right now.” The phone beeped as she hung up. “Andy, I'm so sorry, but my mom's having the baby.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Andy! Don't be such a kid.” Emmeline ruffled his hair, treated him like a kid. “If you want we can pick this up, at your place.”

4

“In a small, secluded area of one of the city's parks, under a tree protected from the rain, cuddling together are two figures. One is feminine, dainty, thin and frail-looking. The other is masculine, tall, broad and sturdy. Opposites attract. Yin and Yang. A little piece of each in the other. Water and fire. One to cool the other when it gets too hot and one to warm the other when it gets too cold.

They complement each other.”

And I?

I sit alone, behind a bush, scribbling those words fervently. I observe. I hope to one day find my Yang to my Yin, fire to my water.

“The figures get up slowly, unwilling, perhaps, to leave their shelter. Hand in hand, masculine figure leaning slightly over the feminine one to protect her from the rain. She hugs him in thanks. He kisses her. Her white outfit and his black one are so fitting to the situation and comparison that it is beyond simple coincidence. They part, lips only, and walk away, bodies still firmly pressed against each other.”

I put away my notepad and pen. I should go home now, before Mom worries. Swinging my backpack against my back and wincing when something sharp pokes into me (a pen?), I stand up and stare in shock.

I live in a big city, and there are quite a few famous people living here, maybe even writers; but to bump into my favorite one is quite remarkable and very fortuitous. I try hard not to gape but she looks so... Real. I laugh.

“I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. It's just I was thinking that you look so real and...” I stop, partially because I'm out of breath and partially because I have nothing more to add. “I'm a fan,” I add as a final explanation.

She smiles serenely at me, wind whispering at her brown curls. “Seems like we both have a favorite spot for writing.” She points to the grass behind the bush; it's still flat from my sitting on it.

“I'm Alice Whitley,” I say. I don't dare extend my arm, as if she would actually shake hands with me.

“I'm Vivian Vowels,” she says, and to my greatest shock, offers her hand. “I'm human; real.” A kind smile lights her soft face up. “Though you knew that, both my name and my status. Although don't be so sure about that second one,” she teases. “Maybe I'm just a daydream and you'll wake up in school.”

I start to worry that maybe she's right. I can't possibly have bumped into my favorite author by pure luck. Luck doesn't just come to me. It usually runs away from me, and I usually trip over it.

“I suppose you want to talk,” she continues, oblivious to my current state of shock. “There's a nice cafe nearby.” She vaguely waves her hand somewhere.

I blink. Uh? Normally I have words, lots of them. Good ones, too. And now all I have is “uh”!?

5

Looking in the mirror, she sees herself – (chestnut?) brown hair and hazel eyes. Pale skin and high cheekbones. Long, slender legs and a flat stomach. But what's beneath the surface, under that pale skin? Red veins, filled with life. Is there life in her mind?

Too-long nails, broken and chipped.

6

Wavy strawberry blond hair from her roots to her elbows, clean skin and a fair complexion: her name was Emmeline. She had piercing amber eyes, of which the shape was cat-like, and high cheekbones (which many envied). Her skin was pale yet her cheeks always had a slight pink blush. Emmeline's lips were ruby red and full; her face was slightly gaunt – in a manner that suited her. Her features were delicate and chiseled.

Her shoulders were neither square nor rounded – they were something quite out of this world. They were pale and perfectly smooth, as was the rest of her skin. Her arms were long and slim, her hands small and dainty with slender fingers. Her chest was average and her stomach toned. From her narrow hips to her two long and slender legs (and flawless feet ), she was utterly perfect.

None could find anything wrong with her – physically. Perhaps her personality left something to be desired?

Leave me a review telling me which one YOU want me to continue. It all depends on the readers. Personally, I like number 4. But I don't have any motivation to make a story out of it. However, if say five people want it to be a story of maybe 20 000 words or more, then I'll write it.