*Story page. It might be a bit long because it isn't like the home page where you can put random posts hither and thither*
Introduction:
Running along the path, fire in my feet, came, well, me. Dean McPherson, I am. My shallow face was contorted with fury. Darkness fell on the unfamiliar street and still I wasn’t tired. Finally, I fell on the path and slammed my fist down onto the ground. My blond hair was dishevelled and I roared with fury.
“WHY?!” I repeated this many times but with every time I became more agitated.
How could they? Why did they leave me?
These sorts of questions circled my head. I had become an orphan two weeks ago after my parents had tragically died, and I was still struggling to adjust. Starving and feeling extremely alone, I lay curled up in a ball on the cement and the rain fell upon him.
When I woke up, uncomfortable in my jeans and T-Shirt that had grown stiff over night. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the strange room. My blue eyes were bleary and they fell upon a note on the bedside table. I opened it and it read:
You there,
Welcome to the strictest orphanage in all of England. You will find appropriate clothes in the wardrobe. When you are dressed, go down the stairs, to the first door on your left. There, you will find breakfast and all the other orphans here. Please be on time for class, I have no time for snotty faced brats.
Mrs Norman.
Raising an eyebrow, I looked around again and found the depressing wardrobe. As ordered, I dressed himself in the shirt and shorts (they looked like dishrags and felt like them too) and headed down the stairs. He had only stepped down two steps when someone had barrelled into him.
“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” a pretty girl with dark brown curls disentangled herself and helped me up.
“That’s OK,” I said whilst brushing himself down and checking that I was in one piece.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you around before,” said the girl.
“I haven’t been here long. I’m Dean by the way,”
“Oh, that’s why. I thought I was forgetting people. You’d think that after five years I would know everyone, I’m Taylor if you wanted to know,”
“You’ve been here for five years?”
“Yes,”
“Wow, how is it like?”
“To tell you the truth, having a hag bang open your door screaming like a banshee in the morning isn’t very pleasant,”
“Oh, talking to the new kid hey?” a boy with mousy brown hair pushed himself in between Taylor and me and shook my hand.
“I’m Darrell. Nice to meet you...”
“Dean,” I said automatically.
“Beat it, weirdo,” said Darrell at Taylor. Taylor didn’t like that very much. Her tendrils seemed to crackle with electricity and her hands curled up into fists.
“Stop being rude to Taylor and start moving to the eating hall, you’re holding everyone up,” blonde girl behind Taylor ordered.
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll help Taylor twist you into a pretzel,”
Darrell seemed to size the blonde up as he thought about the threat.
“C’mon I, let me show you around,” Darrell whisked me off to the eating hall.
“And don’t mess with Taylor, Janice wasn’t kidding when she said that Taylor could twist me into a pretzel,” Darrell added in an undertone.
The eating hall was packed with kids of ages as old as 18 and as young as one month. Darrell chatted away and dribbled most of his porridge over his front.
“What is this?” I asked, as I poked a piece of deformed cheese.
“Don’t eat that,” warned Darrell as he wiped his double chin.
“Why would I?”
“I dunno,” shrugged Darrell.
“OK everyone! Time for class, move it before I set Poufy on all of you!” an ugly old woman came bearing down between the tables whilst banging on a frypan with a wooden spoon.
“Who’s that?” I asked with my eyebrows raised.
“Mrs Norman. C’mon, we better get going,” Darrell gave a dramatic sigh and waddled out of the eating hall and into a weed-ridden courtyard, with me trailing behind. After a few minutes, Darrell and I had entered a class room. Taylor waved from the back of the room and Darrell shuffled to his seat.
“Ah, you must be the new kid, Dean, sit over there,” the teacher directed me to sit in the only available place, which was next to Taylor.
“Now, everyone, please try not to attack Mr Twiddle with ‘kick me’ signs and don’t poke the turtle,” the teacher read from a note. After that, maths class proceeded and it was very boring.
After class, I slipped into the eating hall and started eating a meat pie for dinner that I didn’t feel like any more and it was until Mrs Norman yelled at us to go to bed, did I bother to finish it quickly.
Later that night, I tossed and turned in my sheets. I heard screaming and felt shaking as though someone tried to wake me, but I was in such a deep sleep that I didn’t bother to open my eyes. That is until someone poured a bucket of cold water on me and slapped a fish across my face.
“Get up, Dean, this building’s on fire and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be burnt to a crisp,” Taylor whisked the sheets off my bed and I rolled off with them. I smelt smoke and fire licked my heels and I froze in panic. For five minutes, I laid there my face to the floor, scared out of my wits as the wardrobe crumbled to ashes and heat started blackening my clothes. This was like my parent’s last moments before their bodies had burnt to ashes. People were screaming and crying and Taylor rolled her eyes. She grabbed me in my frozen state and merely dropped me out the window. Luckily, it wasn’t a big fall. Taylor dropped next to me and helped me up. We ran across the grass as the building crumbled and was ablaze. Darrell waddled over and cried triumphantly:
“NO SCHOOL!” and everyone laughed in a carefree way as the fire licked the ashes.
Darrell bumped against me and said,
“You’re a big wuss, a girl had to save you,” Darrell shook his head in mock disappointment.
I rolled my eyes and poked Darrell as Mrs Norman raced outside with a fire extinguisher with her hair in a hairnet and in a revealing dressing gown. Gosh, that was something I didn’t need to see.
“THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THIS YEAR THAT THE PLACE HAS BURNED DOWN!” Mrs Norman roared at the sky as she madly masked the fire and everyone laughed at how stupid she looked. It was a nice get together and after Mrs Norman skilfully put the fire out, everyone picked their way through the mess to pick up their surviving belongings. Again.
Chapter One:
Going Out at 4 in the Morning and Cliff Jumping Like A Manic
"It was not my fault! Really! It was Taylor's fault! She told me to do it. I swear to God. Cross my heart and hope to die!" I shouted as Mrs Norman pulled my ear and dragged me into her grimy office.
"If Miss. Emerson told you to jump off a cliff at four o'clock in the morning, would you do it Mr McPherson?" yelled Mrs Norman, not believing that Taylor Emerson would do such a thing. I then had a mental picture on what had happened ten minutes earlier. I had, in fact, jumped off a cliff to retrieve Taylor’s jumper.
"Maybe… Well, not really." I mumbled.
"Well then, why did you do it?"
"I dunno."
"Oh, don't give me the 'I dunno' excuse."
"Well then, if you feel like your life depends on my explanation, I will give you my explanation!" I said hotly, glaring at Mrs Norman with my arms folded defiantly across my chest.
It was common knowledge at the strictest Orphanage in London that Mrs Norman HATED every single child in the Orphanage except for one person: Taylor Emerson. However, there was one thing with Taylor Emerson, if you got on Taylor's bad side, then you would think that Hell was more peaceful. If you got on Taylor’s good side, she was like an angel.
Yeah, which side was I on at this point in time? The middle. Sometimes, Taylor could be as sweet as cinnamon, whilst at other times she acted like some Fury from Greek Mythology. But then again, I kind of like that. But for the most part, Taylor was pretty even tempered and mischievous.
Well, I thought she was a devil in disguise. Or at least then.
Mrs Norman returned the glare then sighed. It was moments like these when I got a good look at Mrs Norman. She was in her mid-forties but she looked around sixty. Her hair was black and shoulder-length with thick gray streaks from us 'naughty little beasts'.
Her face was like a rat's. She had a pointed nose that looked like it could spear a dragon, dark beady eyes and pale skin. Her long fingers were gnarled and the rest of her body showed her bone joints through her cheap clothing. She also had a gigantic frown wrinkle across her forehead.
So, you could say she looked like a rat/human/corpse hybrid or you could just say she was ugly. Us Orphan kids preferred the latter.
After about a minute Mrs Norman spoke.
"If I catch you jumping off a cliff at four in the morning, or simply out of bed after curfew, I will severely punish you, Mr Dean McPherson. You may go now."
I muttered a 'yes ma'am' and hurried out of there before she could change her mind.
It could have been worse. Mrs Norman wasn't famous for giving out warnings. She was famous for giving out punishments the moment you did something wrong. She must have been tired.
As I climbed down the spiral staircase to my room a figure in a white dressing gown scared the life out of me by coming out of a recess in the wall.
"I'm sorry, I. I hope you didn't get into any trouble!" exclaimed the figure. It was Taylor Emerson. I could just make out her dark, brown, delicately curled hair. Taylor had pale skin and a face that people outside the Orphanage said was beautiful. Her eyes were violet. Wait - violet eyes? The last time I checked, they were green! And I'm pretty sure there isn't such thing as violet eyes, except for contacts. And Albinos.
"No, I'm not in trouble, but what happened with your eyes?" I asked.
"My eyes? What do you mean?" Taylor said.
"Well, last time I saw you, your eyes were green!"
Taylor looked at me as though I was crazy.
"Uh, no they weren't. My eyes are blue." Taylor said.
"No they..." I started then stared. Her eyes WERE blue. I must have my own eyes checked, I thought.
"Well, anyway, good night." Taylor waved then climbed up two steps and opened the door to her room and disappeared inside it.
I sighed. I turned and had hardly went back down another flight when another figure appeared from a recess. What is with people and recesses? I thought as I made my way towards the boy who I recognised very well. Darrell Stark. His mousy brown hair seemed tousled as though he had been sleeping.
“Hello Darrell.” I said dully.
“Tut, tut, I, I would have thought you were in actual trouble with the look on your face. So, did you get a reward?” Darrell said, flinging an arm around my shoulder as we trudged down the stairs.
“For what?” I asked.
“For getting the freak’s jumper, of course!” replied Darrell.
“Taylor is not a freak, and no I did not get a reward!”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I jumped off a cliff at four in the morning in order to retrieve it,”
“Why didn’t she give you a reward?”
“Why do you keep going on about this reward business? Anyway, I’ll see you in a few hours,” I opened the door to my room and collapsed on a package. Umm, ouch, I thought tenderly as I removed the package.
Thanks,
Taylor Emerson
I stared at the note. God! How many mood swings can one girl have in the space of ten minutes?
I shrugged and opened the package. I gazed, open mouthed at the glossy book. It was the new You Need To Know book! I had wanted that book for ages and I never knew that Taylor had got it.
For that moment, Taylor was an angel. I yawned and fell face forward into the bed and fell asleep, wondering what would happen the next day.
Chapter Two:
Mrs Norman’s Hairnet
I really didn’t need this. Taylor came up to me the next morning, her eyes glinting mischievously. And I know what that means. She was about to tell me her new misfit plan when Mr. Jamerson walked in, all primp and proper as usual. Taylor leaned back, looking very frustrated at being interrupted. For Christ’s sake! Can’t that girl take a break?
“Obviously not,” she whispered whilst Mr. Jamerson was droning on about something or other that happened a gazillion years ago. It was creepy how she seemed to read my mind.
“SOOO, watcha talkin’ ‘bout?!” yelled Zachary ‘Yan’. His original name was Zachary James. He was going to a home today, so, apparently, the rules didn’t apply to him. Mr. Jamerson glared at him and Zach was still rolling about with laughter.
Taylor laughed with him and he stared at her, stopping in the process. Mr. Jamerson turned back to the blackboard. I raised an eyebrow. So that’s how you get someone to stop laughing. Zach was about to start up again when Taylor flipped her hair and gave him a hypnotic gaze. Instantly, he was hooked. Again. That was the second time that day. For a twelve-turning-thirteen year old, she was quite, erm, enticing. Don’t you dare tell her that. She doesn’t need a bigger head than the one she’s got.
Taylor grinned and I stared at her. Then I clapped a hand to my forehead. For God’s sake! How could I forget when I was mentioning it before! Darn her and her reading-minds-skill-thingy.
My face burned in shame and I sunk low in my chair next to her.
“And I DO NOT have a big head,” she breathed.
“Can you not read my mind? Please?” I asked, well, mumbled.
“Fine,” Taylor rolled her eyes and started on a worksheet Mr. Jamerson gave us yesterday.
Now she’s going to think I have a crush on her. Nuh, uh, no way. I’d rather kiss millions of bugs than like like her. I wonder what she was all mischievious about...
