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message 1: by Sevania (last edited Mar 16, 2013 01:55PM) (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Hey, I'll just make a topic here if that's okay. Until I can get a folder :)

Hi everyone! I'm Sevania. I'm 14 and I love writing, even though I don't have as much time for it as I'd like.


message 2: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Someday

A short story I wrote recently

It's strange how things have a habit of disappearing right as you realize you need them. One second someone's there for you, holding you, whispering to you, making you promises, and then they're gone. Gone like that bird feather I found once, a pure white piece of exquisitely soft down, plucked out of my hand by the unyielding wind.

Without my father here, there's a gash in the otherwise perfect tapestry of my life. Sometimes I stop and I am just so confused. Sometimes I feel like I can't go on, can't take another step, can't force myself to bother with anything at all. People tell me that it will be okay. I'll get over it someday. Of course, I want to say, but someday is not now. I don't voice my opinions out loud because they are just words. Words, I've found, hardly make a difference when all is said and done.

Now I come here, to this spot where my father and I used to come. I swear I can hear our laughter ringing through the forest, bursting through the canopy of rainbow colored autumn leaves. Here is the circle of rocks where we used to build our fires on warm summer nights. We would crouch near the flames and slap away mosquitos and laugh and laugh until our marshmallows were seared, and we ate them anyway, peeling away the hot black crust and burning our tongues on the delicious goo inside.

It's not fair, that all this would be taken away from me. It's not fair that my father got cancer and now he's gone and we will never laugh by the campfire again.

Time heals, they say. Their voices bounce around inside my skull, consistently hammering. I try to push them down but they fight. Time heals. Time heals. You'll be okay someday.

When is someday? Is it tomorrow or in a million years? It's vague reassurances like these that I hate. When is someday? Is it a mythical land far, far away, across many dimensions, many eons? A time I will never reach?

It feels like that.


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message 3: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Dreamland (Title unofficial)

WIP

It's been years since Linnaia has been to Dreamland, the place she created anew for its inhabitants. Until now, she thought that Dreamland only existed in her imagination. But maybe not. Now Linnaia thinks she's moved on past childish fantasies. But suddenly she is pulled back to Dreamland and, even scarier, people from Dreamland are appearing in the real world.


Chapter 1

"Linnaia! You're going to be late again!"

My mother's voice drifts from downstairs and threads itself into my unwilling ears. I put my face in my hands and resist the urge to scream.

"Linnaia Whitely! Now!"

There is a deep, torturing tension at my soul. I can't bear it. I leap to my feet and pin my pillow against the wall. My hand clenches into a tight fist and I punch the pillow for all I am worth. My knuckles sink through the fabric and the plush, and I can feel the hard plaster wall against my them. It is alleviating, so I punch again, and again.

"Linnaia? What are you doing?" Once again my mother calls. I let the pillow fall to the ground, relishing the slight ache in my knuckles as I rub them. But I am not satisfied. My gaze scans the room until it locks on my hopelessly cluttered dresser. I cross my room in two steps and sweep everything off the dresser surface with one arm. All of my junk tumbles to the floor with a satiating crash. Jewelry and lotion and random change and a candle and seashells and rocks...

I punch my mattress and then take a few deep, shaky breaths.

"Linnaia!" Her tone grows sharper. I cast my room, with its hateful pink walls and disgusting white ceiling, a scornful glare and stalk out the door, taking great care to slam it behind me. Down the stairs I go. I am quite aware that I am not acting as mature as I should be, but something inside me is absolutely furious, and I can't contain it without going raving mad.

"What were you doing up there? What was that horrible noise?" Mother wants to know. She stands in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips, and looks me over critically. I must be a mess. My thick blond hair has a dreadful case of bedhead, my eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and my face is stained with tears of fury. I lift my chin and meet her skeptical gaze.

"I was punching things," I say quietly.

Mother's eyebrows move slightly upwards. "Oh? And why were you punching things?"

"I was pretending they were your face." I could hit her right now, I really could. I would break her nose and enjoy it. Only I shouldn't. I can't. I won't.

Mother's face is as smooth and emotionless as a desert wasteland. "You'll miss the bus," she states calmly. My entire body trembles. I would knock her senseless. I hate her more than anything right now. But, impossibly, I manage to take a long breath and center myself. I break eye contact with her, grab my backpack, and head for the front door. I slam this one too.


message 4: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Outside, I take my little hairbrush out of the side pocket of my backpack. I brush my hair as I walk to the street corner. Keiran, my boyfriend, is waiting there for me. He doesn't say anything, but he puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in as I turn and bury my face in his jacket. I force myself not to sob. I can't afford my eyes looking any redder at school than they already are.

The bus rounds the corner and screeches to a halt. I follow Keiran up the steps and we find two isolated seats in the back row. Only when we are both settled does he turn to me and say, "Sorry."

That's it. One word. Sorry. But it instantly makes me feel so much better. I brush an errant tear from my face and shake my head sorrowfully. "It isn't your fault."

"I know. But I feel like I should be able to do something." His earnest brown eyes meet mine. He really does want to help me. It's almost funny. I have no idea how he could possibly understand what I'm going through.

"That's why I love you," I tell him softly. "But there's nothing you can do."

He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. "Someday I will be able to help you," he whispers into my ear. He is so convinced of the fact that I almost believe him.

I rest my head on his chest for the remainder of the ride, breathing to the beat of Keiran's heart against my ear. By the time we are at school, I feel remarkably calmer. It's as if Keiran can draw the anger out me and dissolve it in the air. I exit the bus perfectly collected and Keiran walks me to my first class.


message 5: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) "So, what's up?" Ally's question is perfectly normal, but her tone of voice makes me stop short in the hallway.

"Uh, what do you mean?" I reply carefully. My best girl friend is no dimwit. It's hard to hide any secrets from her.

"You're, like, really distracted." Ally turns to face me, her black hair whipping behind her. "It's like you're not all the way here. Hello! Lina! You're not even listening to me right now!"

I blink. "I'm here. I'm listening." I meet her searching gaze and hold it steadily. Ally is too curious for her own good. I have to convince her that I'm fine.

She is not convinced. Her brown eyes narrow and she regards me suspiciously.

I sigh. "I'm tired," I amend, which is the truth, albeit not the whole truth.

Ally bites her lip. "I wish you'd tell me. I wish I could help."

You're not the first person who's told me that today, I want to say. I force my mouth to smile. "You're so sweet. I have to get to class."

Ally lets the matter drop but I can tell she's not convinced. This is why I love her. She has all the people skills that I wish I had.

The rest of the day passes in something of a blur. I'm on the bus seated next to Keiran again before I know it. I rest my head on his shoulder, suddenly exhausted, and drift to sleep to the rackety rhythm of the bus.


message 6: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) I am wandering down a long, thin hallway made of mirrors. Everywhere I look I see myself reflected infinitely. Do I really look like that? I stop and meet the gaze of one of my reflections. Straight white-blond hair to my middle back. Large blue eyes. Too-white skin with a smattering of freckles and pimples that everyone claims only I can see. A moderately curvy figure. I am sixteen years old, 5 feet 5 inches, and 115 pounds. This is me. I have never felt dissatisfied with my appearance, but I've never felt like I totally fit in my body. I've never told anyone this, not even Keiran, but sometimes I wish I could recreate myself from scratch. There are a lot of things I would change.

As I stare, my face expressionless, the me in the mirror smiles slightly and give me a little nod. I am not smiling, nor am I nodding. I get the feeling I should be freaking out, but I feel strangely unafraid. I watch, entranced, as the girl in the mirror slowly dissolves into an outline of my body filled with colors. I see pinks and green and reds and purples and around the area of my heart, a tangled mass of ugly, muddy greens and browns threaded with pure white. I lean in closer and as I move in the image does too. As if hypnotized, I slowly reach forward and touch the jumbled colors representing my heart.

It's as if I am struck by lightning. A shock courses through my whole body and I leap away from the mirror, crashing into the one on the other side of the hallway. I look behind me but now I only see myself, wide eyed and gasping, reflected there. Now I am freaked out. I run down the corridor, where to I have no idea. No matter how fast I run my mirror images keep pace, the me filled with colors on my right side and the other me, the 'real' me, on my left. I see a small rectangle of white light up ahead and in a few moments I have reached it. I burst out of the mirror corridor into a wasteland. In front of me is a huge set of gates.

The gates are gleaming, polished gold and absolutely huge. Only when I crane my neck far, far up do I see the jagged spikes adorning the top. The spaces between the gold bars are probably large enough for me to fit through, but something tells me that never would work. The biggest padlock I have ever seen is hanging about halfway up. The key to unlock it would have to be as large as I am.

I back away from the gates slowly. In the back of my mind I register that the mirror corridor is gone or I would have backed right into it by now. A sign comes into view high above the gates. The sign is wooden and past its prime, rotting at the edges, yet still brightly painted. Even before I read it, I know what it says. This is all so strange and yet horribly familiar.

The sign reads, 'Welcome to Dreamland'.


message 7: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) "Lina." Keiran's voice floats into my dream and pulls me awake. I open my eyes and glance out the window. The bus is almost at our stop. I sit up and stretch. My heart is still pounding in my chest. The real world doesn't seem quite real.

"I fell asleep," I state, as if that wasn't obvious. Keiran nods in agreement. The bus halts with its usual screech and we shove down the too-narrow aisle, our backpacks bumping against everything they possibly can.

I step outside and take a deep breath. I am still somewhat in shock from my dream. It's been a while since I had any as vivid as that. I don't want to go home.

"You can come back to my house," Keiran says, interpretating my silence.

I hesitate. "No," I say. "I... I need to go home."

He nods, understanding. He takes my hands in his and kisses my forehead. I look up into his eyes and try to smile, but my lips tremble. I turn and walk away.


message 8: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) My hand is shaking so badly I can hardly put the key into the front door lock. Mother isn't home yet, but I still take great care to be quiet as I go upstairs to my room. I nearly step on a necklace as I come in, part of all the stuff I knocked off my dresser this morning. The necklace is one of the ones Keiran gave me- a thin silver chain with a small crystal heart. I pick it up and let the chain slide through my fingers. The heart is pristine and undamaged. I unhook the chain and fasten the necklace around my neck. It takes me longer than it should because my hands refuse to stop shaking. The necklace is the perfect length for the charm to rest in the hollow of my throat.

I sit on the edge of my bed and close my eyes. Now I have time to think about my dream. I know the place. I know the mirrors, the gates, the sign. But I am still in shock. I never thought I'd see Dreamland again.

Let me explain.

It's been five years since the last night I visited. I was only eleven then. But I remember every detail as clearly as if it happened yesterday. My father had just left me and my mother, and it was very, very hard to be in the same house as her. I hated everything for those first few days. I hated my mother for not being strong enough to take care of me, her only responsibility since she didn't work. I hated my father for leaving us, for not taking me with him, for not rescuing me from the crazy, broken thing that was his wife. I hated my life simply for existing.

And one night, the fifth night in a row that I cried myself to sleep, I found myself there. In Dreamland. Only then it wasn't called Dreamland. It was known as The Kingdom. I was standing in front of the huge golden gates, which swung out in front of me and let me into a world that was beyond my imagination. Which seems impossible, since it was my dream after all, but it wasn't like any dream I'd ever had before. Every little detail was crisp and clear. The colors were so vivid, so real, and when I woke up in the morning, heart racing and a smile on my face, I remembered my dream better than if it had really, truly happened.

I made friends quickly. Corik, Fay, Silver, Zyndle. We started a rebellion, with me as the iconic leader. We defeated the tyrants who ruled The Kingdom, and renamed the place Dreamland. It was the greatest adventure of my lifetime, and everything I'd ever wanted; to be loved, looked up to, adored... Part of me told me all along that Dreamland wasn't real, but the rest of me knew that it was.

That was where I ran into trouble.

Six months passed. Dreamland was my life now, the only thing I could look forward to in a day. The characters in my head no longer seemed to be in my head, but their own living human beings. I remember the first morning Silver was sitting in my bedroom when I woke up. I wasn't even surprised. She smiled at me but said nothing. So I did the natural thing- I talked to her.

It took me two whole days to realize that no one else could see the girl I was muttering to almost twenty-four seven. My mother was worried and did the responsible thing for the first time in her life, sitting me down and asking what was wrong. I replied, nothing, and tried to point Silver out to her, but Mother didn't see anything. The next day, Zyndle joined the party and soon the entire Dreamland cast trailed me theough my day. Mother became frightened and took me to a counselor. Suffice to say, the counselor found it hard to believe my stories about citizens of a magical land coming to visit me. He gave me some pills and sent me on my way.

And that was that. There was no more Dreamland. When I went to sleep that night, I woke up screaming from a real dream, the kind that slipped from my mind like water through a net the moment I opened my eyes. I cried, I moaned, I despaired. But Dreamland did not come back.

It took me months to accept that, no matter how it may seem, Dreamland was and had never been real. To this day I can't explain it, but I have come to terms with the devastation of losing my only sanctuary. I made a worthwhile effort to get a life, a real one in the real world, and as a result I met Keiran and Ally.

Who needs imaginary friends when you can have those of flesh and blood?


message 9: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Chapter 2

My eyes fly open and I sit up with an urgency I can't explain. How long have I been lying here on my bed? My head rushes with that dizziness you get when you get up too quickly. I blink until my mind clears. Glancing at the clock, I see that it has only been five minutes. Mother still isn't home.

I stand and glance around my room. Nothing has changed, but it all feels different. Unfamiliar. Maybe it's me who has changed. I've been trying to push Dreamland out of my mind for so long.

I am deep in thought as I walk down the stairs and out the front door. My feet automatically start on the route towards Keiran's house. A chilly wind brushes my cheek and I wrap my arms around myself. Maybe I should have brought a coat. But Keiran only lives three blocks away. Before I know it I'm pushing open his front door.

Keiran is on his living room couch with a huge textbox on his lap. He looks up as I walk in. I must seem upset, because he sets aside the book and strides to me.

"I'm fine," I force myself to say. "I just-" I shut up there. I know I'm not fooling him.

"Look, if you'd just tell me what's wrong..." He sounds frustrated. I'd be frustrated in his position too, I realize.

"It's just my mom," I grumble. I hate to listen to myself; I sound so shallow.

"I know you hate her. You've always hated her. What is it really?" Keiran prompts.

"Not always," I protest.

"You're avoiding the question."

"I feel so shallow," I moan, and bury my face in his sweater.

"Linnaia, you're about the least shallow person I know."

"I really don't want to talk about it." My voice is muffled. Keiran steps back and puts his hands on my shoulders, regarding me at arm's length. We are silent for a while.

"Okay," he states finally. "If you don't want to."

I am so relieved that I almost don't notice the dizziness. Almost. But suddenly the world is rocking around me. "Whoa," I mutter, and sway on my feet.

"Um, what's wrong?" Keiran tightens his grip on my shoulders.

"You're blurry!" I squint at his smearing face. The sight is so comical that I grin.

"Wow. Come sit down," he says worriedly.

I stumble over to his couch, tripping over my own feet. Lights and colors streak around me in circles. I can hardly distinguish Keiran's concerned face through the confusion.

Somehow I know what's happening to me, even though it's never happened before. Just before I black out, I manage to say, "I may not be back for a while."


message 10: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) Here I am again, trudging down the corridor with the mirror walls. This time I don't- can't- stop to look at my reflection. The journey seems much shorter this way, or perhaps it is shorter. I wouldn't be able to tell.

Before I know it, I am standing in front of the gates to Dreamland. This time, however, there is no huge padlock locking me out. I don't know why or how I am here, but I have a gut feeling that I am here for a reason. And it better be a good one, considering the fact that I hadn't seen this place in four years before this afternoon.

I step forward, my chin high, and give two golden bars a shove. Without creaking, the gates swing open away from me, and just like that I'm in.


message 11: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) The city seems deserted.

From the outside of the Gates, it is impossible to see into Dreamland's main (and possibly only) city. As I sweep through the open gates with the proper grandeur of a heroine, buildings and streets emerge out of nowhere. The city is a large one, maybe as large as New York City back on Earth, and it is always bustling with activity. Always.

The City of Dreams takes every single era in every single culture in the past, present, and future on Earth and jumbles it into one magnificent, beautiful hubbub. Buildings can be anything from mud huts to sleek, curved, modern works of art. Technology can do things beyond my wildest imagination, yet there is little use for it and basic laptop computers are the most often used electronics. There is a loose system of social classes, but it is always changing and is too confusing to keep up with, so most ignore it. The city itself, for that matter, always seems to be changing. When I was young I had this sneaking suspicion that it presented itself to me how I wanted it to. I remember the friends I had here and wonder where they are.

In fact, at the moment I'm wondering where everyone is, because there's no sign of life anywhere.

I head away from the Gates down the main road, which is made of a black, rubbery, slightly bouncy material that is likely from Earth's future. My footsteps are quiet and yet impossibly loud in the utter silence surrounding me. I am afraid to break the stillness by yelling out a greeting. It's already disturbing enough that I'm walking here.

I don't know what else to do, so I let my feet take me to the spot I know by heart- the old Alliance hideaway. It only takes me ten minutes and I am standing in front of an unpainted wooden door. The door is small and sunk into the ground, enough that anyone over four feet nearly has to crawl to get into the 'hideaway' as they call it. I hesitate a moment, then stretch out my hand to knock in the specific rhythm they taught me so long ago.

TA ta-ta-ta, TA... ta-ta.

And I wait.

A chilly breeze brushes my cheek, the first movement I have felt since I got here. Something about the cool air sends an uneasy shiver down my spine, like something menacing is watching me. I turn in a slow circle. My heart speeds up. I wish someone would answer the door already.

A good thirty seconds passes and I am almost ready to run (to where, I have no clue) when the old wooden door jiggles. I crouch so I am at eye level with whoever may be opening it, though every muscle in my body is tense. Then the door swings open with the same old creak of its rusty hinges, and there stands a petite girl with dark wavy hair, soft green eyes, and pale skin. Zyndle, face to face with me after such a long time.

I feel my lips stretching into a huge smile. I open my mouth to speak, but Zyndle quickly shakes her head, putting her finger to her lips. She beckons me in, and I enter the hideaway. Only when the door is firmly shut and bolted does she turn to me. Zyndle's normally cheery face is stony. She regards me distantly, looking me up and down as if I'm a stranger who can't be trusted.

"So," she says finally. "It worked."


message 12: by Sevania (new)

Sevania (sevthedev) I am stunned. "Hi to you, too," I say meekly, trying to muster up the old joking mood between us. When there's no reply, I ask, "What worked?"

Zyndle's lips purse slightly. Something about her glare makes me think she wants to throw me back onto the street. "You'd better follow me," she announces after a few more seconds of awkward silence. She brushes past me into a dark hallway on the way to the common room. I follow silently, knowing that now is not the time to chat, even though I want desperately to talk with her.

The hallway we are walking down is made of uneven rocks. The occasional wall sconce holds a lit torch, but the torches provide little light and create many shadows. When manipulated in an exact way, certain stones in the wall open up different rooms. Those stones are called keys. The method for opening each room is different from key to key, and as a result almost no one knows how to get into every single room in the hideaway.

When I was here before I was convinced that Corik knew every key. It only made sense, because Corik pretty much grew up in the hideaway. The Alliance was his father's idea, after all. As I follow Zyndle, who remains stubbornly silent, I try to identify each key I know of.

There is the small, jagged one to a small storage closet. There is the rounded, well worn rock behind which is the hallway to the girls' rooms. There is the eye level, well camouflaged key to the common room. Zyndle passes it and keeps going. The common room, apparently, is not our destination.

Zyndle is walking faster now, so that I almost have to jog to keep up with her. I'm dying to know where we're going, but at the moment talking seems to be the worst thing I could do. We go farther and farther and the torches seem to be dwindling to nothing. I have hardly ever been this far along the hallway. Once I tried to find the end to no avail.

Zyndle stops abruptly and I pull up short, thankfully managing not to crash into her. Without sparing me a glance, she stretches on her tiptoes to reach a small stone, a pebble really. I want to offer help, since I am taller than her, but before I can muster the courage she pulls the key down sharply and then pushes it all the way into the wall. A patch of stone wall swings inward above our heads, large enough only to crawl through. Yellow electric light spills out of it.

"Go on," Zyndle orders. I stand below the opening and look up, scrutinizing the hold. At least it isn't pitch black. I reach an arm up and grasp the bottom ledge, scrabbling for a foothold on the wall. Zyndle stands back and makes no move to help me. I hoist myself through the opening and find myself standing in another hallway. This one is brightly lit with whitewashed walls. I look back down at the doorway, if you could call it that, and Zyndle emerges gracefully. The section of wall swings shut, leaving only a faint outline around its edge.

To be continued...

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