Thats not what this is about, although I'll get to that in a second. firstly, I'd like to publicly apologize for my ditching of the
But, again, this is not, and I repeat, not, what this topic's for. feel free to PM me about anything as a welcome back, or stuph liek dat, cuz I'm very modest and I take it all in.
Okay. For real this time. This is a small excerpt from a novel I've been writing for awhile now, and its my first real writing experience, so please go easy on me.
It was a dark night. Dark yes, but it was pleasant weathered. Not a cloud in the sky, and moderately warm, more so than Toronto would get most of the summer. It was an odd night, yes. But thats not what the couple walking along Lawrence Avenue were thinking. These two- The two protagonists of this story- made an odd couple. In fact, they were best friends, from long ago. There was a boy, and there was a girl. They boy was Eighteen, but looked Twenty-two, while the girl sixteen, and looked the better half of fourteen. She was very short, and scawny. He, the opposite. She had a hue of hair similar to the "Bombshell Blondes" of the 60's, with beautiful, near white hair. The boy- I should say man- Had Jet black hair, the color of the coal you may recall getting in your stocking, if you were not careful near Christmas as a child.
They were hardly given a second look from anybody but a sweet old lady the block before, who had stopped to ask them for directions, and they had to explain that they were not from around here. Although this was a lie; both had been born in Toronto, but both had moved to different places in Canada, before returning to Toronto three nights ago. The Man's name was David, the Woman's Bree; The sweet old lady's name doesn't matter to the story, so I shall not disclose it. David had been looking around, crazy-eyed. He still wasn't sure he had lost "Them". Bree had re-assured david multiple times, but, after his close experience, he felt more secure being busy scared for his life.
David held his hand out across Bree's body, in a silent motion to stop. The van had come around again, the awful, plain white van many teenagers joke about holding pedophiles. If David'd hunch was right, the contents of this van were much, much worse, for both him and his accompanyment. He pulled Bree down by her arm into a shrub of a poor Man or Woman's house, on the top of the hill. The van passed idly, went down to the next block, and turned. David expressed his distaste in the sport by pestering Bree once again, who had gotten used to it, and adapted the technique of singing very annoying songs in her head until the storm of annoyance was over. It worked fairly well, she decided. She tapped david on the shoulder, and gestured for them to continue their advance down Lawrence Avenue.
At the top of the hill that the rather profusly used Lawrence avenue, yu could see where Lawrence could intersect with Eglington, which was another main artery in the Torontonian blood system. Bree finally broke the silence between them, that had existed for quite a few blocks now. "Psst!" No response. "Psssst!" Still, no response. She slapped him on the wrist, and he snapped out of his fugue state. "What? What is it?"
Another small moment of silence, that awful thing, thought David. He should talk more often. He made a mental note, and a Blackberry Memo about it. Although they were forced to ditch their phones two days ago, David had picked up a pay-as-you-go, and had put it on his no-good-father's credit card.
Bree finally answered. "What time is it?"
Time? David thought. The... Time? What... is... the... Oh!
He looked down to his pay-as-you-go and checked the time. "It's around 11ish, of July, the 16th. If we're gonna get to Smith's, we're gonna do it soon or never." He then proceeded to look away, trying to hide his blush and the fact that he'd always wanted to use the 'Now or never' line in actual context. Of course, this wasn't particularly true, Julian Smith would let them crash at his dad's house as long as they wanted when they wanted, in his words himself. David had put it in a Blackberry Memo, for future reference, he told himself at the time.
Grunting, he went head first into a telephone pole. Bree rushed over as fresh blood seeped out of a small cut on his forehead. He told her not to worry, of course, he was a man, and he'd be fine, they just needed a band-aid. And maybe Polysporin. And possibly a lollipop. The problem was, neither of them knew the Eglington-Lawrence area all that well, so they were as good as lost. They had passed a Drugstore a few blocks back, but that was up a hill, and Bree refused to go "up that monster again", in her own words. So, they set back forth, putting ever so much more distance between them and the awful place they had been not 72 hours later.
EXCERPT FROM TRANS. BY DOC. ELDER, PHD.
COMMISSIONED BY GOVT. OF CANADA
GARUNTEED BY GOVT. OF USAC
RECORDING STARTS AT 0.34.47 OF 07/14/11.
I HAVE SEEMED TO STUMBLE UPON TWO MORE PATIENTS, A POOR FELLOW, AND HIS COMPANION, A BEAUTIFUL GIRL. THEY WERE BOTH HEALTHY WHEN THEY CAME TO THE HOSPITAL, ALBEIT A GASH IN THE MALE'S HEAD. IT WAS AN EASY JOB, WITH STITCHES, HOWEVER HIS BLOOD TYPE SHOWS THAT OF THE KIND THAT FIGHTS PROJECT TRIPPS. WE DETAINED HIM AND HER FOR MORE BLOOD TESTS. THE FEMALE'S BLOOD SEEMS TO BE SOME WEIRD BLOOD TYPE... <<HARD TO UNDERSTAND MUTTERING>> SOME KIND OF .0001% OF THE POPULATION HAVE. THESE ARE POTENTIAL CAPTAIN TRIPPS CARRIERS. BOTH WERE TO BE PLACED UNDER GUARD, HOUSE ARREST AT THE HOSPITAL, AND NO ONE CAN TELL THEM ANYTHING. I AM GOING IN TO TALK TO THE FEMALE NOW,SHE WANTS ANSWERS. WISH ME LUCK, FOR SHE SEEMS DANGEROUS WHEN UPSET, AND ANSWERS I CANNOT AFFORD TO GIVE
END RECORDING AT 0.38.59
SEE ATTACHED DOSSIER FOR DETAILS ON THE INTERVIEW WITH PATIENT "PRINCESS"