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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2257472-Chapter-1
Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2257472
My try at writing a book. Chapters will be inconsistent! Please tell me how to improve.
I awoke in a cold sweat. The room was dark and cold, with a sliver of silver light shining through the heavy curtains. I crept out from under the covers of my bed and padded across the cold floor. Pulling on my long robe, I opened up my thick curtains dramatically. I gazed at the stars, shaking my head to rid myself of my most recent nightmare.
Scalpels lowered toward my head as I squirmed on the gurney. Thick leather straps held me down. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, this’ll all be over soon.” I opened my mouth to scream and the scalpel came down and I
I massaged my temples and sat down heavily on my bed. I shuddered and quickly made up my mind. I tiptoed to the tall doors to my room and opened it up barely wide enough for myself. I shimmied through the crack and slipped along the cold hallways. I hated this ‘house’. It didn’t even look like a house. It was actually an old castle, and why we moved to the middle of nowhere was anyone’s guess. We had moved here a few months ago, around when my nightmares had started. I am homeschooled by tutors and governesses now, along with my twin, Samuel.
Quick as I am silent, I slipped into my brother’s room and slowly shut the door. I exhaled, relieved.
“What are you doing?” I jumped into the air and turned around.
“Hello,” I said, looking around the room. I bit at my bottom lip and picked at a flaking piece of my dry lips with my teeth.
“Why are you in my room?” Samuel inquired, skipping the pleasantries, “Leave.” My eyes flicked to my twin’s serious stare and I shook my shoulders.
“Why are you still awake?” I shot back, confused why I thought meeting him for a comfort session was a good idea.
“You are in my room. I think you should answer my question first.”
“I-” I sighed, “I had a nightmare.” Samuel scoffed, and I felt my face go red.
“Whatever.” I bluffed, trying to hide my frightened expression, “Go back to bed.”
Samuel turned around silently and I exited the room. I padded across the halls once more, but soon I was lost.
I growled unhappily. I quickly turned around and tried to retrace my steps. No luck. I was very lost. Shivering in my thin cotton nightgown, I leaned against a cold rock wall and shut my eyes. I slid down the rough wall, my gown catching on the edges. My butt went numb the moment I touched the floor, and I curled up. Tears fell from my eyes and my face twisted as I tried not to make a sound.
I didn’t know why I cried now. I hadn’t cried when my grandmother died when my mother lost her job from protesting the new factory her job was building, when my mother died just a month after that. I hadn’t cried since we moved to this imposing prison, with its bare walls, cold floors and countless rooms, so many I never saw my father.
The windows were blacked out to shield us from the view of the permanently grey, hazy sky, from the weak flickering sun, the naked trees and bushes. I had never seen stars but in pictures, never seen leaf-covered trees but in movies, never seen the sky but in stories.
I let out a weak sob. I wanted to see the world, but I haven’t left this jail in months. I wiped my nose on the bottom of my nightgown and squished my eyes shut to vanquish the tears. I continued to walk through the house until finally, I found my room. I flopped down on my bed and shut my eyes, knowing that all I had to look forward to that night was restless nightmare-plagued sleep.
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