Stories we have written:

Okay, second part. I won't post any more until I'm ready to post the whole chapter. ;)

After enjoying a brief moment of inhaling the cool, fresh air and gazing at the glorious sunrise, Gredly turned and said, “I believe it’s high time we got to work. Today’s lesson has been longer than usual, and I wouldn’t be an ounce surprised if old Mr. Tuckner is already banging on the shop door to pick up those horseshoes.”
With this remark, Gredly headed down the hill, and Turner sheathed his sword and followed him. A cool breeze from the sea in the distant north blew softly against their backs as they walked back across the field to their shared home, less than half a mile away.
After the brief walk they approached and entered the back door of the modest log cabin built by Gredly himself many years previously. In this cabin Gredly had lived alone with Turner sixteen years—since the boy was a baby—for his mother had died while giving birth to him and his father had been killed in battle only a few months afterward. Gredly had been charged by Turner’s father, just before he had died, to take care of the boy as long as he was able. Immediately afterward, Gredly had taken Turner to this secluded village in the Thratrin Plain and raised him as his own. He was in every way as a father to Turner except in name; for he made Turner call him “Uncle Gredly,” though he had never made mention of the reason for this title—he was not related by blood to either the boy’s father or mother.
The two removed their armor and weapons and placed them in a trunk, washed their hands and faces, pulled on their boots, and headed out the front door of the cabin. They made their way to a nearby dirt path and traveled briskly down it into the heart of the village—a half-mile, downhill journey through the same field of grass which accommodated their cabin and the hill on which they dueled each morning.
They soon arrived at the end of the dirt path and the beginning of a cobblestone road that immediately split into three branches, leading into different parts of the village. Gredly and Turner took the road that led through the village’s center and moved along it past various houses and shops, until they had nearly arrived at the village square. At this point they turned aside to a fairly small shop, featuring a single window displaying various examples of the owner’s wares, a tall oaken door with an intricately carved iron knocker and door handle, and a sign made of green-painted wood hanging over the door that read “Arnay’s Smithy.”
True to Gredly’s prediction, an elderly man was presently standing in front of the door, pounding on it with his walking stick. He was repeatedly yelling Gredly’s name and calling down imprecations on him if he didn’t open the door in the next minute. Smiling, Gredly laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. An ugly, reddened face with sharp eyes and a pointed nose wheeled violently around to face him.
“Arnay! Why, confound you, I thought you were in there! What’s all this then, getting to your own shop so late? I’ve been standing out here for twenty minutes, I have! Do you have my horseshoes ready, like you promised? If you don’t yet, I swear I’ll—”
Gredly interrupted him. “Yes, of course I have them ready, Bern! No need to get so upset; I’m always true to my word. I worked until late last night finishing them up. Just give me a minute to get the door open and retrieve them, and you can be on your way.”
Gredly took a beautifully forged key from his trousers pocket, fitted it into the keyhole, and pushed the thick door open on its creaky hinges. A smithy about twice as long as wide was revealed, with walls and floor made of many large granite slabs which, rather than cutting off to form a flat ceiling, rounded out at the top, giving the room an atmosphere very much like that of a mountain cave. A chest-high barrier not far in front of the door blocked off most of the smithy from customers. Gredly swung open a short wooden entrance on the far end of this barrier and entered it, followed by Turner. Sitting on a granite counter near the back of the room were eight new iron horseshoes, which Gredly piled in his arms and brought back over to Mr. Tuckner. He handed one of them to the man and asked,
“Is it acceptable?”
Bern Tuckner studied the item carefully with his piercing gaze, looking for any imperfections. Finding none after close scrutinization, he replied,
“This one’s fine, but how can I know that you didn’t hand me the only good one, or one of the few? I won’t put up with any deception, no sir!”
“I’ll show you the others, but only after receiving my payment. I don’t expect you to run off before paying, but I like to be cautious. If you happen to find my work unacceptable, an event which I think highly unlikely, I will return your money, on my honor.”
Mr. Tuckner looked greatly reluctant, but he apparently trusted Gredly just well enough to do as he requested. Muttering under his breath something about distrustful shopkeepers, he fished in his money purse and deliberately pulled out eight silver coins and set them in front of Gredly. Gredly took them and set them in an open metal box beside him, then gave the rest of the horseshoes to Bern. The old man eyed them all individually under the same searching gaze as before, and after a few minutes he finally said,
“Quality work, Mr. Arnay! That’s what I like about you—always making the best of products. I never really doubted you; just being cautious, like you said.” He smiled, though to Turner the attempt looked rather like a grimace. Hanging the horseshoes on his left arm, Mr. Tuckner lifted and waved his stick in farewell, then turned and left.

Cool! :)

You guys are so mean - only putting up a little of your stories at a time! :D I can't wait for the next part!!

Is this Turner the Adventurer? OR William Turner?

The first two parts of my story, with new title: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1HX2c4k3ID5la01_fmMQoCvjb_xTfGBClB7tvAUKEtk0/edit?usp=sharing

Is there any more on this story yet?

I'm not putting any more of it out :)

The name's Turner Junem, actually. :P I came up with the last name a long time ago, along with a different first name, but I liked "Turner" so much that I changed it. ;D

Well, its a nice story so far.

Did you see our basic storyline for the movie I'm making over the next few weeks?

Thanks. :) I'm hoping it'll turn into a full-length novel someday. :D

No, I didn't; where would I find it? What kind of movie?

Back a couple pages. Its a superhero comedy.

I'll try to find it.

Did you?

Now I did. I was laughing the whole time–up to the… impalement. cringes But I like it. How are you planning on making this into a movie?

By picking actors, having them re-enact the scenes, film it, send it to my friend who will put it together! I've done it before. If you want to see any of my earlier movies, just tell me.

Ooh. You have to make me a character somewhere. ;D

I would love for you to be in my movies…just don't know how it would work.

Yeah… I hope we can figure something out. :D

Can you teleport?

Here's the first part of a story that I'm planning on writing. Please tell me what you think of it so far. :)

“C'mon, Zane! You're going to be late for youth group!”
“I'll be right down, Mom!” Zane replied. He was looking in the mirror in his bathroom trying to get his hair to stay flat. He put his comb under running water from the sink, hoping that the wetness would help his hair stay down. “Why can't you cooperate with me right now?” he asked his hair. He finally got all of his hair down, or he thought he did until he turned slightly and realized their was one strand sticking straight up in the back. Zane groaned, “I knew I missed one!” He wet his hand and just pressed on the hair until he was confident that it was down. He removed his hand to see that it had almost worked. “At least it's horizontal now,” he said.
He looked in the mirror again. His face was as pale as ever, not gruesomely pale, but pale enough that he looked like he didn't go out in the sun much. He had one pimple in the middle of his forehead that he had been trying to get rid of for weeks, but it just wouldn't go away. His light brown hair, still wet from his comb and hands, was short; but it was just long enough to give him some nasty bedhead in the morning, or anytime really. He looked like a normal teenager except for his eyes. They were almost freakishly bright blue. He didn't mind though, cause his favorite color was blue, and no one bugged him about it.
He checked again to make sure he didn't forget anything, and then rushed out the bathroom door only to be met by his mother, who was just outside. “Talking to your hair again?” she asked.
“Y-yeah.”, he stuttered, “You know how my hair can be. Sometimes I think it has a mind of its own. That's why I talk to it,” he said jokingly.
His mother chuckled, “Well come on then, you're going to be late!”
“Right!” Zane said as he rushed downstairs, grabbed his Bible and cellphone, and ran out the door.
“Honey!” Zane's mom called “Wait for me! I'm driving, not you. Also, I don't think you'll need your Bible this time. Doesn't Pastor Allan want you guys to help set up for VBS?”
Zane thought for a moment then said, “That's right, I forgot that we were setting up for that tonight. I think I'll bring it anyway. You never know when your Bible will come in handy.” Zane patted his Bible as he got into the car.
His mom smiled then climbed into the driver's seat. “That's what I like to hear,” she said as she started the engine.
Zane put his head back and looked out the window. He suddenly noticed that it had started to rain. “That's right,” he thought to himself, “We're expecting a big storm tonight. At least we'll be indoors setting up, or at least I hope we'll be indoors.”

Copyright Ian R.

Love it! The hair thing sounds familiar… although I don't usually talk to mine! :D How long is the story going to be?

Thanks! I actually got the idea from my hair cause it can seem to have a mind of its own sometimes. :P I don't know. I think that will be the first half of the first chapter. I'm still working on the second half. :)

Bethany, did you get my email?

Yes, I did. I might have to wait until you get the book published to read it, though. ;) I don't know if I have time to help… sorry!

The next part of chapter one! (No I'm not done with chapter one yet. :P)

“I wonder where he could be,” Welby thought to himself. He had been looking out the window for almost five minutes. “I hate waiting for long periods of time,” he said out loud this time. He glanced one more time out the window again, ready to give up, when he saw a car pull into the parking lot. “Finally! Now to lay my trap.” He rubbed his hands and sneaked off down the hall.

Zane's mom pulled into the parking lot of the church, and it was pouring down rain. “We're here!” she said. 
Zane looked out the window. “Great. I didn't bring my jacket.”
“That's why we have an umbrella in the car, silly,” she said pulling out one that was super bright red. 
Zane put his hand on his head. “You expect me to walk in the parking lot with that?”
“Would you rather get soaked?” his mother replied. 
Grudgingly, Zane took the umbrella. “I hope no one sees me with this.” He was about to open his door but then turned and kissed his mom. “Drive safe and tell Dad that he might want to make sure the basement doesn't flood tonight.”
His mom smiled, “Have fun and be helpful. Bye.”
“Bye,” he said before he opened his door, opened the umbrella, and rushed across the parking lot hoping he wouldn't be noticed. “A guy running across the parking lot with a bright red umbrella, who's gonna notice that?” he mumbled to himself. “Everyone.” 
He opened the door to the church, turned around, closed the umbrella, and took a big breath. He went to open the next door, but realized too late that it was ajar. Before he knew it he had walked right into a trap. An empty bucket fell on his head when he opened the door, and when he went to take it off, someone jumped on his back. “Ha ha! Gotcha, Zane!” Welby said in triumph.
“Welby!” Zane said, or at least he thought he said that. Because of the bucket on his head, what he said sounded more like “Mmmemmi!” 
“You want your mommy? Is that what your saying?” Welby joked before Zane threw him off. Zane lifted up the bucket to see a kid with black curly hair just a little bit longer than his, and a pair of root beer brown eyes. He was skinny and had tan skin, he was also two inches shorter than Zane's 5'10 frame. His face almost looked like that of an elf especially with the mischievous smile he had. 
“Welby,” Zane said with a smile, “Still up to your childish pranks? I guess I should expect that from a fifteen year old.”
Welby rolled his eyes, “Yeah like your sixteen year old mind makes you less playful than me.” He chuckled but then seemed to become serious. “Well, you came here to do important work, right? So let's get to the sanctuary where everyone else is waiting.”
“Then why aren't you there if this is so important?”
“Oh, well Pastor Allan told me to go get a bucket for some reason,” Welby held up the bucket, “when I saw you pull in I couldn't resist.”
“A likely story,” Zane said with a smirk, “Anyway, if we have to be down there fast, I'll race you. Ready, Set, Go!” Zane took off running.
“Hey no head starts!” Welby yelled while chasing him. 

Copyright Ian R.

Alright, thanks anyways!

I finally finished chapter one! Yes! :)

The two boys rushed into the sanctuary almost in a dead heat tie, which would have been fine had they not bumped into each other and fallen down. “I won!” Welby said.
“Liar!” Zane retorted, “I got here first.” Then both of the boys fell into a fit of giggles.
“Are you two just gonna lie on the floor, or are you guys gonna help?”
The two boys immediately stood up at the sound of Pastor Allan's voice. They looked at him only to find that he was trying not to laugh himself. If you saw him, the word “pastor” would not come to your mind. He had blond hair and looked like he had a nice tan. His eyes were blue and his face always seemed to have a smile even when he wasn't; he was also tall, about 6'3, and was well muscled. He also always wore a T-shirt, and shorts, unless during Sunday service. If you saw him, “surfer” might be the first word that comes to your mind.
Pastor Allan went up to Welby and took the bucket from him. “Thank you for getting this, young man. This will come in handy,” he said with a wink.
Zane looked around the room and saw only four other people. There was Daniel, the youth group helper. He was skinny, but very tall. He towered over the Pastor by at least two inches. Of course, he wasn't all that graceful, but he always managed to stay calm in tense situations. He was pale and had short brown hair, like Zane, but light green eyes instead of blue. He was on a ladder with some paint, which made Zane kind of nervous, but Daniel seemed to be steady on it, at least for now.
Sitting in the front row with her phone was Peggy. She had brown hair down to her shoulders. She was pretty tall, about as tall as Welby, but she was on the chubby side. Her piercing gray eyes were her most prominent feature. It seemed as though they could see right through you. Her parents were fairly wealthy, and she was very proud about that fact. For this reason Zane had always seen her as kind of snobby. He never really liked her, but he never hated her; since that would be unchristian-like.
Standing next to the seat that Peggy sat in was Jude. He was the silent type and didn't say much, but when he talked people listened. Zane was even a little afraid of him since Jude was a year older. Zane had always seen him as secretive though, and maybe a little moody. His features, however, were not very secretive. He had fiery red hair and bright green eyes. He was about as tall as Zane but much bulkier, which probably made Zane a little more afraid of him. He was also very pale, more pale than Zane even.
The last person in the room was Merona. She was short, only about 5', and very shy. She was very attentive though, and always seemed to be turning her head to look at something. This had always reminded Zane of a little sparrow. She had long blond hair that went down to her waist, and sky blue eyes. She wasn't pale, but she wasn't tan either. She was somewhere in between. Zane had always liked her, and they new each other ever since they were five.
Zane looked around the room once more, slightly confused because he knew that there were usually nine regulars who came to youth group. “Where's everyone else?” he asked.
“Everyone else called in sick,” Daniel replied. “They seemed to have caught that cold that has been going around.”
“Hi, Zane,” Merona said with a smile and waved. Zane smiled and nodded to her, while Welby made faces behind his back. Zane saw his reflection in the window though and playfully punched his shoulder.
“Well then, I think you all know why you're here,” Pastor Allan began.
“We're here to help set up for VBS,” Peggy replied rolling her eyes.
Pastor Allan gave her a stern look but continued and held up a piece of paper, “There are two jobs that we need to do. The first one is to get the thirty items on this list, from the balcony closet down here to the sanctuary.”
When he said that, everyone groaned. Going up into that closet was no fun. It was dark, cramped, cluttered, and the staircase leading up to the balcony was narrow. No one wanted to go up there.
Pastor Allan seemed to like to hear the groans and continued, “The other job is to go outside, in the rain, and gather mud in this bucket and with this shovel to bring inside.”
When he said this no one groaned. They all looked at him in shock. Peggy stopped using her phone, and even Daniel was a little take aback.
“Mud, sir?” Jude said.
“Yes, and I'm glad that it rained, that will make it even better!” Pastor Allan said with glee, “If you guys want to go up to the closet though, here's the key.” He held up a key in his hand.
Welby was up there in a flash and took the key and the list. “Closet it is!” he shouted before running for the stairs.
“Wait for me!” the other four shouted simultaneously while running after him.
“Pastor, what will we need the mud for? The theme this year is outer space,” Daniel said puzzled.
“I know that we don't need mud, but they don't know that,” Pastor Allan said with a laugh. He leaned back in his seat and waited for the teens to come down with the items.
Daniel just shook his head and went back to painting.

The five teens got up the stairs, and then almost fell down again, because the staircase was so narrow, and they were running so fast. “Watch where you're going!” Peggy said as she was the last one.
“It's not my fault,” Zane exclaimed, “Welby stopped!”
“Sorry, guys,” Welby said sheepishly, “I thought I heard a humming.”
“It's probably just the air conditioner,” Jude replied impatiently, “Now go!” Jude gave him a little shove. 
They finally made it into the closet and huddled in a tight circle, waiting for Welby to read the list. “The first thing we need is balls,” he said.
“Um... What type?” Zane asked.
“It's kinda hard to read, but I think it says yellow,” Welby answered. 
Suddenly a metallic yellow ball fell right in the center of the group. Merona looked a it with big eyes, “Like that?”
Zane looked at it carefully, but the ball didn't look quite right. Suddenly he saw a bright red flash and blacked out. 

Copyright Ian R.

Good job! Keep it up! Can't wait to read what happens next!!!

A little late, but here's the start of chapter two. :)

Merona never felt the way she was feeling now. She felt good. It felt like she was on a nice comfy bed, with a fluffy pillow under her head. “I don't remember my bed feeling like this,” she thought. It was perfect, until she opened her eyes. She realized she wasn't in a bed; she wasn't even in her room. She was in a white room with unusually thick carpet, and her pillow was really her arm. She stared at it puzzled. “Why is my arm covered in feathers?” she wondered.  She tried to blow the feathers off, but they would not budge. She then tried to pull them off, but was met with a wave of pain. “What is this?” She yelled. She sat up only to find her other arm covered with feathers as well. She saw a mirror on the wall to her right and rushed to it. What she saw terrified her. 
Her entire body was covered in feathers, and they weren't just glued on, they were her own feathers. Brown feathers with white mixed in. She didn't know how long she stood looking in the mirror. Five minutes? Maybe a whole half hour. She just couldn't wrench her eyes away. She finally recovered enough to actually comprehend what she was seeing. Her face was the same and wasn't covered in feathers, but her head was. Her head didn't have hair, it had short feathers that looked like a crew cut. She also noticed she didn't have ears, or at least they were covered up with feathers. She looked further down her body and saw that her neck and entire body were covered in feathers. In fact, the only places that seemed to be featherless besides her face were the palms of her hands, the bottoms of her feet, and the tips of her fingers and toes. She also appeared to be wearing prison clothes without the black stripes. She thought she had seen it all, until she turned and saw her back. She had wings. She tried to move them and found it surprisingly easy. “Maybe I could fly out of here,” she thought. That all changed when she looked at the room again. 
It was a small white room, that looked like a cell, minus the bars. There were two doors, which Merona tried but found they were both locked. One of the doors had a window, and when she looked out, she saw nothing but a white hallway. The only other furnishings in the room were one big white table and two white chairs. “Why does everything have to be white?” she asked out loud. She mainly just said this to make herself calm down, but she was frightened. She was also lonely. She had to have someone for company, or at least hear someone else's voice.
Suddenly she heard the door open with the window open behind her. She spun around only to see something blue and white fall to the ground and the door closing. It all happened before she could register what was going on. When it finally clicked with her that she had company, she walked over the where the thing lay. She saw it wasn't a thing, it was a person in clothes just like hers. She also saw that it was a boy about her age, except he was blue. He was completely blue except for a thick line that started under his eye and appeared again on his arms; and the place where his eyebrows were supposed to be was white as well. There was also a big white thing on top of his head that Merona almost mistook for big ears, except that she saw his ears further down. Sparked by curiosity, she touched this thing on his head, and found that it was just skin with bone underneath. “It almost looks like two mountains,” she thought. She lifted up his head a little to find that it went down to the scruff of his neck. She looked at his face more closely and realized that the face looked familiar. She couldn't pinpoint where she had seen it before though. Suddenly the boy stirred and opened his eyes, and Merona let out a gasp. She knew those eyes, and no one else she knew had them. “Zane?” She choked. 
He looked at her quizzically and said, “Merona? Why are you covered in feathers?”
She gasped again, “It is him!”she thought. She immediately hugged him, but realized from the muffled yelling that she was smothering him. She immediately let go and apologized, “Sorry, I was just so happy that it was you.”
“Well why wouldn't it be me?” Zane asked, “And what's with all the feathers?” He went to get one off his nose, but when he saw his hand he stopped. “W-why am I blue?” He stuttered. 

Copyright Ian R.

Last night, I finished writing the first draft of my book!!!!

Awesome!!!!!

Ian: Nice!!! Keep it up! Can't wait to read more!!!

Wish granted. :)

Merona suddenly became somber and pointed to the mirror in the corner. “Get ready to be shocked,” she said.
Zane walked slowly over to the mirror. When he looked in the mirror, he stopped. Merona couldn't tell if he was surprised, terrified, or both. Zane only stood still for a minute or so, and then took off his shirt. Zane then saw how the line that was under his eye got to his arms. First off, it didn't start at his eye, it started in the middle of his chest, where five lines connected into a small circle. The lines broke off from there at sharp ninety degree angles and zig-zagged across his body. One each to his arms and legs, and one straight up his neck and to the area under his left eye.
Merona had looked away when Zane took off his shirt, but curiosity overcame her. She looked to only catch a glimpse of the design on Zane's chest before he put his shirt back on. She was then shocked to hear him chuckling. “What are you laughing about?” she asked.
“Oh, I always imagined myself blue if I turned into a strange creature,” Zane said jokingly.
Merona was appalled, “How can you be in such a good mood?” she demanded, “You've just woken up to find yourself in a different body.”
“It's not exactly different,” Zane replied.
Merona then noticed that he was technically right. His stature was the same and so was his face, and as she had noticed before, his eyes hadn't changed. “Still, it's different,” she said.
Zane walked over to her and sat down right next to her. “I'm not too worried, if that's what you were expecting. I know God is with me wherever I go, and no matter what happens, He has a plan that is for my own good.”
He put his hand on Merona's, and although she was still terrified, she felt comforted. She looked into Zane's eyes and saw that he actually was a little freaked out, but he still seemed very calm.
Suddenly the door opened again, and a form fell right beside them. Zane was there in a flash. “Welby!” he exclaimed. It was indeed Welby, but he was much paler. Instead of being tan, his skin was a peach color. Zane thought maybe that was all that had changed until he saw his ears. They were pointed, which made him look even more elf like. Zane then noticed his mouth was slightly open and saw that his canine teeth were slightly longer and more pronounced. “Oh, Welby,” he said.
At that instant Welby's eyes snapped open, and Zane saw that they were bright red. That's not all that he saw though. Welby's eyes got really big, and he kicked Zane across the room to the opposite wall. “Get away from me!” Welby yelled.
“Ow,” was all Zane could say.
Merona rushed over to Zane to make sure that he was all right; then after seeing that he seemed to be fine, she turned to Welby. “Welby, please relax! It's us!”
Welby squinted at them. “Merona? Zane? Is that really you guys?”
“Yes it's really us,” Zane said as he tried to stand up, “And we're not the only ones who are different. When did you learn to kick like that?”
Welby went over to help him up, “I've always wrestled with my older brothers, but I've never done anything like that before.” After he helped Zane up, Welby saw his reflection in the mirror. His jaw dropped, but he quickly closed his mouth after he saw his teeth. “Is… is that me?” he asked.
“I'm afraid so, Welby,” Merona replied.
Welby walked up to the mirror and twisted his head to see his ears. He also opened his mouth to inspect his teeth, but the one thing that kept him there the longest were his eyes. He had never seen a person with red eyes outside of comic books. Seeing himself with red eyes scared him. He finally backed away and plopped down on one of the chairs. He stared at the floor for a minute or two; then a smirk came on his face. “I always thought I would look good as a vampire.”
Zane couldn't help but chuckle, but Merona couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Am I the only one who's truly freaked out?” she thought. Zane looked at her and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then they heard a noise.
They turned just in time to see another person on the floor, and the door closed again. They all walked over to the prostrate form on the ground. “It's Jude!” Merona exclaimed. Jude's face was instantly recognizable and so was his stature, but he was bald. His trademark red hair was gone. Not only that, but his skin was silver and had the appearance of metal. Welby touched Jude's arm and confirmed it. “It's definitely feels like metal, but it feels flexible like skin,” He said.
“How is that possible?” Zane asked. He didn't get an answer though because Jude groaned right after he asked.
Welby tried to get Zane and Merona away. “You guys are gonna want to move. He'll be groggy and probably recognize me, but he'll think you two are monsters no matter how groggy he is. He might try to kick you across the room like I did, and I know he's capable of doing it.” Zane and Merona immediately moved behind the table.
Jude groaned again and opened his eyes. He looked at Welby and said, “Daddy?”
Welby felt his face getting red, but he tried to play it cool and rolled his eyes, “No, Sleeping Beauty, it's me, Welby.”
Jude squinted at him, “Welby? Are we at a Halloween party? Why do you have pointed ears?” Jude suddenly sat up as if he wasn't tired in the least. “And why are your eyes red?” he demanded.
Welby fell backwards from Jude's sudden outburst. “Whoa, boy! Calm down!” Welby said, trying to right himself.
Jude was ready to pounce on this person who claimed to be Welby but looked like a vampire, but was stopped by two pairs of arms grabbing his. “Stop, Jude! It really is Welby!”
Recognizing Zane's voice, Jude spun around and was shocked by what he saw. “Zane?… How?”
“It's happened to all of us, including you,” Merona said pointing to the mirror. Jude turned to look at her and his mouth dropped. He stood there for ten seconds before he realized what she was pointing at. He walked slowly toward the mirror. He looked in the mirror, and didn't know what to think. He sat down on the ground, and started mumbling to himself, “No way, no way. This can't be happening. Relax. Stay calm. Breathe, Jude.”
Zane, Welby, and Merona stood awkwardly behind him, not sure if they could help in any way. Then they heard the door open again. This time there was no one on the floor, and the door didn't close right away. This time a devilishly handsome man walked in, followed by a short, ugly troll like thing. The man seemed to be a normal human, until you looked at him for a few seconds. He just looked too perfect. He was so handsome, Zane didn't even know how to describe him. He had the best suntan ever, and his face was beyond words. He also seemed to have the perfect body. He looked to be about six feet tall and very muscular, and he was dressed in a skin tight white T-shirt and white pants. There was something unsettling about him though that put Zane on edge. “Is it his super bright white smile,” he thought, “or his purple eyes?” Those eyes seemed friendly and unique, but unnatural as well. “Or maybe it's his friend,” Zane thought, looking at the troll. It was short, bald, and had an ugly black heard. He also had tentacles for legs, which creeped Zane out.
Finally the man spoke and his voice sounded like the villain in a British spy movie, “I see that everyone is here.”
“Wait a minute,” Welby suddenly said, “Where's Peggy?”

Copyright Ian R.

Thanks!!! I can't wait to read more now!!! I so dislike being kept in suspense!!!! You're a really good writer!!! :)

Thank you. I actually don't really like to write, but I just had to write this story for some reason. :)

Oh, wow! Really?! I'd never have guessed! You do a great job!

Has anyone else noticed that the less praise a story post receives, the better it usually is? I think you must be doing good. :D

Has anyone else noticed that the less praise a story post receives, the better it usually is? I think you must be doing good. :D

Yeah, you're right! This is awesome - keep it coming, Ian! :D

I'm writing an epic story now for school. If it turns out good I might post it here.

A true story: It happened to us.

TORNADO!!!!!!!!

We had been having bad weather for several days. Monday night and Tuesday morning, there was a tornado watch. We knew nothing about it until the next morning, because we had been sound asleep, while our neighbors, aware of the danger, were hiding under their stairs for safety. I learned later that day also that a funnel cloud had been spotted about 45 minutes away fro us that could have touched down. Thankfully, I did not.
Tuesday night wasn’t much better. Though there was no tornado watch or warning near us, there was a worse thunderstorm. I woke up at 4 in the morning hearing rain pelting down fast and hard on our patio roof, which was just below my window. Now understand this: I am a very sound sleeper and anything that wakes me must be very loud.
Wednesday was nice, sunny, until about 5:00 PM. Then the skies clouded, and wind started to blow hard. When I went out to shut the shed door, the wind was against me. I had a hard time closing it, and though I was pulling with all my might, little me, who was and still is “light as a feather”, took a long time closing it when in normal weather it would take but a few moments.
About 30 minutes afterwards, rain started to pour down. We wondered if we could get to prayer meeting, which was being held that night at church. But Dad decided to go, so he and the oldest four (I was one of them) piled into the car. Everything went as usual. Me, being the only girl in our family who went, asked one of the pastor’s daughters to sit with me as usual. Pastor was almost done with the short devotional when out other elder stood up. I was surprised as he, without any warning, interrupted the pastor who was speaking.
“Pastor Mike,” he announced. Everyone stared at him, as he went on. “There is a tornado warning.”
Everyone sat still in shock as his wife added, “We’re supposed to take shelter right now.”
Everyone headed for the tiny basement. When we were all down there, Pastor finished his devotional and a much shorter than usual prayer followed. After that, everyone just talked. Several people were checking their phones to see the weather. Dad saw that a storm was arising, though the funnel cloud was still about a mile away. “Everyone going east, leave now.” he said.
We quickly gathered up our things and got into the car. We were just in the nick of time, for as the automatic door was closing, rain started pouring down. We set off, the windshield wipers moving fast. In spite of the bad roads and thunderstorm, we arrived home earlier than usual, safe and sound. Praise the LORD for keeping us safe!

THE END

Wow, thanks guys! :) You might not want to give me too much praise though, or you might jinx me! JK! XP

Here's the next part!

“Oh, is that what you call her?” the man asked, “How vile. She's probably in there.” He pointed to the other door.
“I couldn't open that door before,” Merona said.
“She probably just locked herself in since it is the bathroom,” the man said with a smile.
Zane frowned at him and walked toward the door. When he got to it he knocked, “Peggy? Are you in there?” He heard a sob. “Please open the door.”
“You know I have a key,” the man said holding out a white key.
"Again white. This is getting redundant. I bet the bathroom is also white," Zane thought as he reluctantly took the key and opened the door. When he opened the door he found the bathroom not white, but gray. “Phew!” he thought, “All that white was starting to bother me.” But he realized there was something else to bother him. The bathroom was a simple square room with a toilet and a sink, no stalls, but he couldn't see Peggy. “Peggy?” he called, “Where are you?”
“You don't want to know,” Zane heard her sob.
Zane looked around him and realized the voice came from the wall "Maybe she's behind it," he thought, then said out loud, “Yeah, this has all been very rough, but it can't be all that bad. I probably don't have it any better. Now please come out so I can see you.”
Zane saw a shimmer and was shocked to find out she wasn't behind the wall, she was blended into it. When he was able to see her clearly enough, he saw hugging her knees on the floor right next to the wall. When he saw her, though, he found out why she was crying. Her skin was covered in green scales, which gave her the ability to blend in. She was bald, and her ears just seemed to be holes in her head. She lifted up her head to look at Zane. Her face was the same except that her piercing gray eyes were now yellow, and her teeth were razor sharp. Her face however, was twisted in despair. She had always been pampered during her life, and even though she was chubby, she was still beautiful. Now she couldn't stand herself the way she looked. For some reason, however, she was comforted that she wasn't the only one who had gone through a change, but only a little.
Zane got down next to her and tried to encourage her to get up and get out of the bathroom. “Come on. We're all different now. You're not alone.” Although he wasn't that fond of her, he couldn't help but feel pity for her.
He was finally able to get her out of the bathroom, and when Peggy saw everyone else she almost sighed with relief. Then she saw the man and out of habit, went to straighten her hair. She remembered though that she didn't have any hair, and put her head down. Zane could see the scales on her cheeks turn red.
“I believe you all know why you're here,” the man said. He was met with blank stares.
“No we don't,” Welby finally spoke up, “We don't even know who you are, or where we are.”
“You don't?” the man asked appearing to be shocked, “I am Andele. I am the Captain of the Universal Police Force. You are on my ship, the Leviathan, for…”
He was interrupted by the door opening and a beautiful young women walked in. She was absolutely gorgeous! Her hair was a platinum blond that extended to her waist. Her face, like Andele's, was beyond words. Although Zane instantly thought that she was the most beautiful thing ever, he was repelled by two things. One was her too bright smile, and the other was her golden eyes. Like Andele's they seemed unique, but unnatural.
When she spoke, Zane was surprised to hear that she had a pleasant southern accent, “Have you informed them of their crimes yet?” she asked.
“I was about to when you walked in, Sandera,” Andele replied.
Zane couldn't believe his ears, “Crimes?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Sandera, “You are charged with murdering five teens at a church on June 3rd.”

Copyright Ian R.

Oh. My!!!! Wow!!!! Now I want more!!!!!!!!! I so like it!!!!!!

I really don't like this style of story, but I'm starting to get intrigued. :)

So, here's something I wrote about a year ago. Hope you enjoy. :)

I awoke rather late in the morning, feeling very refreshed. I lay silently in bed, inhaling the delightful scent of the fresh air. Birds chirped their melodious tunes outside my open window, and the newly-risen sun shone warmly on my face. I sighed contentedly, knowing that today was going to be a good day. Especially because today was my birthday.
I attempted not to stir, knowing that my personal servant, Sandir, was probably right behind me, waiting to help me when I was ready to get up. I lay there for several minutes, enjoying my comfortable position while I could. Eventually I convinced myself to get out of bed.
As I sat up, Sandir immediately said, “Good morning, my prince.”
“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound more tired and groggy than I was. I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of my king-sized bed. As I had done nearly every morning since I had come to the castle, I looked at my huge, comfortable sleeping quarters and thought, I totally don’t deserve such a nice bed.
“How may I serve you, Your Highness?” Sandir asked with a slight bow.
“Sandir, really. Just call me Turner,” I said. Sandir hesitated, then said slowly, “All right… Turner.”
I smiled. “There is no need for formality between us, Sandir. You are more of a friend to me than a servant.”
“Thank you very much, Turner.”
I stepped to my large wardrobe and said, “Well, to answer your question, you can help me by deciding what I should wear today. I can never choose my clothes myself, or someone will comment on how the colors clash or something. I don’t know why colors of clothing have to go together.”
As Sandir helped me pick out a suitable outfit, I thought to myself, as I had many times before, Why do I get so many clothes? I know people who can hardly afford more than one set of clothing. Eventually we found a good match, and I stepped into the next room and quickly put it on. Before I stepped out the door, I asked, “Hey Sandir… Would you happen to know if anything special is happening today?”
“Special?” he asked, looking a little confused. “Is there something special about today?”
I smirked. Apparently he doesn’t remember that it’s my birthday. Oh well—he doesn’t really have to.
“Um… not really. Just wondering.”
I opened the door to the stone hallway that connected the bedrooms of the royal family and stepped out. As I walked toward the kitchen, Sandir followed close behind, matching my steps almost perfectly. I strode briskly down the long stone staircase that led to the middle floor of the castle. As I reached the bottom, I breathed in the familiar and delicious scent of bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen. The smell briefly brought to my mind the memory of mornings back at my former home; but my thoughts were soon interrupted by the greeting of the cook.
“Good morning, my prince. Today we have prepared an exquisite meal of bacon, eggs, and cauliflower.” I nearly grimaced. Exactly how does cauliflower go with bacon and eggs?
“Thank you very much, Todreli. Your services are greatly appreciated.”
The cook smiled gratefully and made a slight bow, then returned to his work. I walked through the kitchen into the dining room, where the rest of the family was already seated.
“Turner, you’re late to breakfast!” my stepmother, the queen, said disapprovingly.
“I’m very sorry,” I said apologetically, sitting down at the long wooden table. Sandir took his seat at my right side, while my older brother Reglarin sat at my left.
Reglarin frowned. “You should not keep us waiting like that!” he hissed. “Father was beginning to get impatient.” I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Don’t I get a little slack since it’s my birthday?
My father began to speak in his strong, booming voice. “Well, now that Turner is with us, we can begin to eat. But of course, we must first pray. I will lead us.” All the family bowed their heads as my father blessed the food. “Great King, we thank you for this food which you have graciously provided us. We bless you for your infinite mercy, and for allowing us to enjoy the unmerited pleasure of partaking in this delicious meal. We ask that you would bless this food to our bodies; we ask that you would allow it to give us strength for this day; and we ask that we may glorify you in what we do with that strength. In your glorious name, amen.”
Everyone repeated, “Amen,” and we began to dig into the delectable meal. I was finally beginning to master proper etiquette, but my brother and sisters always found something wrong with the way I ate.
“Turner, you mustn’t pick up the cauliflower with your fingers. Use the fork,” Reglarin said with a scornful, yet utterly proper, tone in his voice.
I sighed and rolled my eyes, but I obeyed my brother and began to eat “properly.”
“So, how is my family doing this morning?” the king asked. He always liked to talk with the family during meals. Everyone answered him with a “Good,” or a “Very well, thank you.”
“Very good,” he said. Then, after a short pause, he said to me, “I have something special planned for you today, Turner.” I smiled. So someone does remember that it’s my birthday. “Though, you may not consider it so special,” he said with a slight chuckle. Huh? “Today I am sending you out to the outer wall of the city to help the workers there who are reinforcing the section of the wall that has recently been falling apart.” Uh… okay… “Part of the reason I would like you to do this is so that you can get a sense of what it is like to be in the shoes of the common folk. Since you will be king one day, I do not want you to be unaware of the labor your subjects undergo daily; you must be able to relate to them. I have instructed one of the men there to show you what to do. Now, as this will require you to remain out of the castle the entire morning and afternoon, I have decided to relieve you of one day of your studies. Do you have any questions, Turner?”
“No sir,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice from sounding disappointed. Maybe this isn’t such a bad birthday present. Like he said, this will be good for me.
“Good. You will begin immediately after breakfast.”
After breakfast, my father took me out to the courtyard and introduced me to a large, muscular man. “Turner, meet Fregorn. He will be your master for today.” I reached out my hand to the huge man, and he met it with a crushing handshake. I cringed.
“Hello, Fregorn,” I said, massaging my hand.
“Hullo yourself, m’prince,” he said in an accent I had never heard before. “Today ahm gonna show you how to fix a wall.” He grinned, showing his teeth—the few that he had.
“Well, I suppose you won’t be needing me, so I’ll be going now,” my father said. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Do well, Turner—follow instructions, and work to honor the Great King.”
“I will,” I said.
“You can come back to the castle at the closing of the city gates. Goodbye until then!”
“Goodbye,” I said as he turned to leave.
Fregorn didn’t waste any time. “Come with me,” he said, leading the way out of the courtyard. I followed close behind the muscular mass.
He walked quickly through the crowded streets of the city, pushing past merchants shouting at passersby to purchase their wares, customers haggling with storekeepers, children playing with sticks in the street, and various other people going through their morning routines.
We eventually arrived at the thick stone wall that marked the boundary of the city. I could see a couple dozen workers—all obviously quite stronger than me—laboring away at repairing the deteriorated wall. Fregorn now stopped and turned to me. He suddenly squinted at me with a look of confusion. Then, after a few seconds, he burst out in laughter. I was rather puzzled at this strange action, and felt a bit uncomfortable. After composing himself, Fregorn said with a huge smile, “Well, ye prob’ly won’t be warkin’ with those on, will ye?” He motioned to my clothes.
I looked down at myself and realized that he was quite right; the clothes of royalty were hardly the best to be wearing when building a wall. I cleared my throat and said, “Yeah… probably not. Is there anything else for me to wear?”
“Actchally, yes! Ah got some warkin’ clothes ready far ye this marnin’, but ah plum fargot abowt ‘em! Thay’re over here.” He led me to a badly-folded pile of dirty clothing lying on a wooden table, with some boots beside them.
“Here y’are!” he said. I gulped. It had been quite some time since I had worn something so filthy. Trying not to show my disgust, I said, “Uh, thank you. Where should I put them on?” Fregorn scratched his head. “Prob’ly in those trees yonder, past the wall.”
I couldn’t help but gulp again. “In the… trees?”
“Yah,” Fregorn said. “Ye have a problem with’at?”
“Uh, no, I’ll be fine. Thank you.” I reluctantly took the clothes, walked through the section of the wall being worked on to a thick cluster of trees about fifty yards away, and changed quickly into the clothes. It felt disgusting to have such dirty material touching me. Just pretend you’re not the prince anymore. Today you’re just a normal farmer boy who doesn’t have anything else to wear. Well, I’d probably be okay with that any other day, but… today is my birthday!
I made my way back to the wall, the whole way trying to convince myself that all this wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Fregorn had apparently been waiting for me at the wooden table.
“Ah’ll tek those,” he said, taking my royal clothes from my hands. “Dun’t worry; ah’ll keep these sef.” He placed them on the table. Somehow I doubt that those will come out of this place in the condition they came in…
Fregorn led me straight to the men I had seen when I first arrived. “These guys are the ones buildin’ the wall, as ye can see. Ye’ll not be warkin’ with’em.” He took me through the wall again, this time taking me a hundred yards away to a huge pile of rather large rectangular stones. A few boys my age were there, stacking the stones into small, wagon-like contraptions, which each had two handles and a single wheel.
“Ye’ll be over here, carryin’ the stones over t’the men so they can lay ‘em. Ye prob’ly won’t be wuntin’ to do it with yer hands, so ye’ll be usin’ this instead.” He pointed to one of the contraptions. “Ye jest put the stones in the ‘barrow and bring ‘em over to the warkers.”
“The… ‘barrow?” I asked, perplexed.
“Yah,” he said, “this thing here. Ain’tcha ever hard of a wheelbarrow b’fore?”
“Uh, no, actually.”
“Alright, then. This is a wheelbarrow. And ye use it to carry the stones to the warkers.”
“Is that all I’m doing? That seems pretty simple.”
“Well, unless ye want me t’give ye a course on stone-quarryin’, stone-cuttin’, or stone-layin’, ah don’t see that ye can do much else!”
“Um… okay. Would you like me to get started now?”
“A’course, m’lad! Ah’ll be over thar with the warkers if ye need anythin’.”
As he walked away to his work, I began taking the stones from the pile and placing them in the “wheelbarrow.” I could already tell that this was going to get dull very quickly. I spent five minutes stacking the wooden mechanism to the brim with the heavy stones. Then I attempted to lift it, but it wouldn’t budge. I pushed harder, but still it remained motionless. Then, unwisely, I shoved it with all my strength. The thing moved a little—then promptly fell to the side, dumping its contents onto my left foot.
I shouted in pain, hopping up and down and holding my injured foot. Some of the boys noticed my plight, but most merely laughed and went on with their work. One of them, however, came over to help.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned. Through teeth clenched in pain, I said, “Not really, but I don’t think I broke anything.”
“Here, let me help you fill this back up.” He righted the toppled wheelbarrow and began placing the stones back into it.
“You shouldn’t fill it all the way like you did,” he said. “You should only put in what you can carry.”
“Thanks; I think I understand that better now,” I said with a tinge of sarcasm in my tone. I set my foot back down on the ground and shifted my weight onto it to see how much it hurt. Fortunately, the pain wasn’t too bad. I began to help my newfound friend stack the stones in the wheelbarrow.
When it was just over half full, the boy said, “Try lifting that. See if you can do it.” I did, and found that it was neither too heavy nor too light for me to take to the wall.
“Thanks so much for your help,” I said, shaking the boy’s hand. “What’s your name?”
“Bartin,” he said. “Yours?”
“Uh… Turner.”
“Hey, the same name as the prince! Interesting.”
I chuckled awkwardly and said, “Yeah, it sure is…”
“Well, I’d better get back to my work. If you ever need me again, just shout.” He jogged back to his wheelbarrow and continued filling it.
I lifted my wheelbarrow and heaved it all the way to the wall. One of the workers grabbed it from me and dumped the load into a much smaller pile of stones than the one from which I had just come. He then gave it back to me, and I rolled it back to the large pile. I went back and forth between the wall and the pile at least two dozen times, my arms getting sorer and my stomach getting hungrier on each trip.
Finally, as the sun burned high in the sky, hurling its sweltering rays down on us, someone finally shouted those long-awaited words: “It’s lunchtime!” Everyone dropped their work immediately and ran to the place just outside the wall where the meal was being served. I wiped my sweaty brow and followed them.
About half an hour earlier, I had seen someone beginning to cook something in a large soup pot beside the wall. Now, as I approached the pot, I finally discovered just what the meal was: beef stew. The unmistakable scent filled my nostrils as I walked nearer, and my stomach grumbled loudly. It appeared that everyone knew exactly how this drill went; all the workers lined up to the pot, single file, and a man walked down the line, handing bowls to everyone. I was the final one in the long procession, so I received my bowl and my meal last.
I eventually approached the man serving the stew, and he took my bowl and filled it up with a ladle. “You’re lucky I made more than usual today, laddie,” he said, handing me a spoon. “You might not have gotten any at all.”
I thanked him for the stew and went to find a place to eat my meal. I noticed Bartin sitting down by himself, so I approached him and sat down beside him.
“Hey Turner,” he said.
“Hey,” I returned. I put my bowl in my lap and bowed my head to pray. When I raised my head again, Bartin said, “Hey, you pray too? Not many people here do, except me.”
I nodded. “It’s a shame so few people serve the Great King.”
“No kidding,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder how anyone can live without Him.”
“Me too,” I said, taking a bite of my stew. My tongue got a little burned, but I didn’t care. I just needed to fill my stomach.
We sat in silence for a little while before Bartin asked, “So, Turner—where do you come from? I haven’t seen you here before.”
Uh-oh. How am I supposed to keep him from finding out who I am? “Well,” I said, clearing my throat, “I live in this city.”
“That must be great,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to live in a big city like this. I’m from the country myself—live on a farm a little ways away from here. What’s it like to live with so much excitement always going on around you?”
“Well, uh, it isn’t really that exciting. I mean, for someone who has lived here all their life, it’s not any more exciting than life at a farm probably is for you.”
“I guess not,” he said.
We both finished our stew and laid back.
“So, what exactly do you do here in this city? Do you work for somebody, or do you do what your father does?”
“I, uh… I’m going to do what my father does when I’m old enough for it.”
“So you’re gonna carry on the trade? That’s good. What is your father? Storekeeper? Butcher? Blacksmith?”
Oh no! What do I tell him?
“Um… no, he’s not any of those. He’s a…” I fumbled for the right thing to say. Should I just tell him? “He’s a…”
“Yes?”
“He’s a… king.”
Bartin squinted. “What? Did you just say ‘a king’?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking down at my bowl and mindlessly scraping its sides with my spoon. Bartin looked at me queerly for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled and laughed.
“Oh, I get it! You were joking, because you have the same name as the prince! You had me for a second there.” He kept laughing for a moment, but then he saw that I wasn’t laughing with him. “You were joking, right?”
I looked up at him awkwardly. “Uh… well, actually, I wasn’t.”
He looked at me even more queerly. “What do you mean, then? Your father is the king? Now you’re surely joking. Why, that would mean that you’re the prince! And, if you’ll pardon my saying so, you don’t look like a prince.” He chuckled a little, and I tried to do the same.
Suddenly, Fregorn shouted at the top of his lungs, “Awl right, men, lunch is over! Tahm t’get back to wark!” I breathed a sigh of relief as I quickly stood up and returned to my wheelbarrow.
The men began to grumble about how short the lunch break had been, but all returned to their work without much argument. Bartin and I stood up and plodded back to the wheel-barrows and stone pile. Fortunately, Bartin ceased pursuing the answer to the awkward question that had arisen during our conversation, and we both continued our work in silence.
For four more hours we continued the backbreaking work of moving the wheelbarrows to and from the city wall. By the time the sun began to grow low in the sky, I could barely move. It seemed like every muscle and bone in my body ached with pain from transporting the heavy stones back and forth and back and forth all afternoon.
Then finally, when I felt like I could not survive carrying one more load of stones, a familiar sound resounded through the city, a sound for which I was certain I had never been so grateful in my life. Four loud trumpets blasted a single note, holding it for about ten seconds. Then a man shouted, “The gates of the city of Surana will close in five minutes! Five minutes until the closing of the gates of the city of Surana!”
I quickly returned my empty wheelbarrow back to its place by the stone pile, a joyful spring in my step. As I jogged back to the hole in the city wall, which by this time had grown considerably smaller, Bartin approached me.
“Hey, Turner! So, you’re going back home now?”
“Yes, my father told me to come back at the closing of the gates,” I said.
“Yeah, your father—the king, right?” He guffawed as if it were now the funniest joke he had ever heard. I joined in the laughing.
“Something like that,” I said.
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
“I hope so. Farewell, Bartin!”
“Farewell!”
I turned back towards the city and headed to the place where Fregorn had left my royal clothes. I approached the table just in time to see a man using my shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
“Hey! You can’t—” I began, but the man did not hear me, and he dropped the shirt back onto the table. I walked up to the table and looked in disgust at my clothes. Apparently this man was not the only one who had been using my garments as a handkerchief. I sighed, picked up the clothes, and lumbered back through the streets of the city to the castle.
“What a great birthday today has been,” I muttered to myself.
I knocked on the large wooden door that led to the castle courtyard and waited for a soldier to open it. I waited for half a minute, but no one opened the door—no one even asked me who I was or why I was there. I knocked louder and waited for another half a minute, but still, nothing happened.
I was beginning to get quite impatient. I pounded on the door, shouting, “Will someone please open this door?” As I still received no response, I finally pushed hard on the door. To my great surprise, it opened, and I stepped into the courtyard in confusion. What was going on? I looked around, but not a single soldier was in the courtyard.
I closed the door noisily behind me and approached the castle door. I knocked on it, but found that it too had no one to open it for me. I pushed on it, and found that it also was unlocked and unguarded. I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be going on, though a dozen preposterous theories entered my mind to account for these strange circumstances. I stepped softly through the empty hallways and staircases of the castle.
I slowly approached the door to the banquet hall, through which I would have to enter to get to my room. I reached out for the handle and slowly pulled the creaky door open.
Before I had opened the door halfway, I was suddenly met with a deafening shout of “SURPRISE!”
I staggered backwards, nearly falling onto the floor. The dark banquet hall was suddenly filled with the light of dozens of torches, and curtains were thrown back from the windows. I immediately became aware of a huge crowd of people filling the hall, all laughing heartily at my great shock. My father approached me.
“Well, Turner, you rather look as though you did not expect this!” he said with a merry laugh. He put his arm around my shoulders.
“I assume you now realize our plot, do you not, Turner?” I tried to answer, but nothing came out of my mouth. It all made sense now; this was why it seemed everyone had forgotten my birthday, why my father had sent me out to the city wall for the day, and why there had been no one to open the doors for me—all to make this the biggest surprise of my life!
I stood speechless beside my father for a while, until he said, “Turner, I think you had better get dressed for this occasion; work clothes like that are hardly the proper garments to be wearing at a birthday party for the prince!” We laughed together, then I headed towards a staircase at the back of the hall to get to my room. Sandir suddenly appeared beside me.
“So, were you surprised?” he asked with a huge grin as we ascended the staircase.
“Was I surprised? I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised in my life!”
“I can believe that. You should have seen your eyes pop wide open when we shouted ‘Surprise!’” We both laughed as we entered my room.
“So, how long has this been planned?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s been weeks, Turner! Your father has made huge preparations to make this the best birthday you’ll ever have.”
“And all right under my nose! I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”
“Well, we all made sure to keep this completely secret. We wanted you to enjoy this birthday as much as possible.”
“And I think I will! Here, Sandir, help me choose some clothes.”
“The clothes you put on this morning… don’t look quite as good as they did earlier.”
I laughed. “No, not quite.”
After I had washed up and dressed myself in my best clothes, I returned with Sandir to the banquet hall. Everyone cheered at my arrival. In the crowd I noticed lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses from all over Suran. It seemed that nearly every noble in the country had been invited to my birthday celebration.
My stepmother approached me and embraced me warmly. “Oh, don’t you just love this, Turner! The servants have spent all day preparing an enormous meal and lavish decorations. The great nobles from all over Suran have come to honor you today—though of course, they came through the back gate of the city so you would not observe their arrival. Oh, and the gifts! Wait till you see the gifts!”
“I am so humbled,” I said, shaking my head in amazement.
“Humbled! Why, on today of all days, you ought to hold your head high in pride!”
I didn’t argue with her, but I knew that today should humble me more than any previous day of my life. I knew fully well that I did not deserve any of this.
That evening was an evening I will never forget in my life. As my mother had said, an enormous meal had been prepared, and I enjoyed it fully after my hard day of labor. The entire castle was filled with bright banners and bountiful ornamentation. Incredibly expensive gifts were presented to me, all of which were received with immense gratitude. My father made a speech recounting the few years I had spent there, mentioning repeatedly that he was eternally grateful for each one. The guests prompted me to make a speech as well, and I reluctantly complied. I thanked them all for their unnecessary admiration and told them of how humbled I was by their presence and their gifts.
Then a dance began, which lasted well into the night. At about midnight my father stood in front of the crowd and informed them that the celebration would continue the next day, and that the servants would show them all to their separate rooms in the castle. The nobles began to disperse, and the servants started to clean up the banquet hall. The rest of the royal family and I came together and made our way up to our rooms.
As Sandir and I entered my room, I went to my bed and fell straight back on it, arms outstretched.
“That was amazing,” I said.
“It must have been the largest party ever held at this castle! Well, at least the largest one held by your father.”
“You know how I always complain about how undeserving I am of all I have as the prince?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never felt as undeserving as I did tonight.”
“That’s why I can’t wait to serve you when you are king. Most people, if given such a banquet and celebration as you have been given tonight, would be more prideful than ever. And yet you have just stated that you feel more humble than ever. That amazes me.”
I laughed. “You’ve just got to keep in mind that in the end, you’re no different from anyone else; we’re all just as undeserving of good things as the next person.”
“As I said, your mindset will make it a joy to serve you when you are king.”
I quickly prepared for the night, then lay down in my bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I thanked the Great King over and over for His incredible grace to me, His humble servant.

THE END

Ahhhhh!!! I liked that!!! Good job!!!

That's so good!!!! I like it a lot!!!

Start of Chapter 3! Sorry for not posting this sooner. :)

The room fell silent. Jude, who had started to recover from his shock, fell right back into it. Peggy started to weep quietly. Welby and Merona just stared at the Andele and Sandera with their mouths open. Zane was the one who seemed the least troubled by this and simply crossed his arms. When he spoke, however, his voice shook a little.
“What do you mean?” he demanded while trying not to squeak.
Andele answered him, “You are accused of murdering Zane Rollings, Welby Cortes, Merona Giffen, Peggy McIntrey, and Jude Thomas, on June 3rd, when they were helping set up their VBS.”
“But that's who we are!” Merona blurted out while pointing around the room, “I'm Merona, that's Zane, that's Welby, that's Jude, and that's Peggy!”
“Oh, how vile,” said Sandera.
“That is what I said,” Andele replied, “I cannot believe you took the names of those you murdered. Have you no conscience?”
Zane could sense something was wrong. The man and woman seemed to know that the five teens in front of them were the ones who were supposedly murdered, but they kept pretending as if they were two different groups. There was something else as well. Was he hearing voices, or did Andele just speak without moving his lips? If he did, it was a mumble, and Zane couldn't catch what he said.
Andele began speaking again, “You are also charged with stealing a ship from a merchant on the planet Denir. I'm assuming that's how you got to Earth.”
Zane didn't think he could last much longer and was about to go up and smack this alien or whatever he was, when the door opened again. Four more of the troll like creatures walked in.
Andele pointed to the one that came in with him, “Hallis and his crew will take you to your quarters, which I think you will find to your liking before your execution tomorrow.”
Zane couldn't believe it. He and his friends were prisoners for something they didn't do. They were also going to be executed the next day! He had to find a way out, but he reluctantly allowed Hallis to take him away, and all five of them were led away to separate rooms.

Copyright Ian R.

Ahhh!!! Good job!!! Keep writing!!! I want to know what happens!!!

Here's the next part in my story. Enjoy! :)

"I can't take it. I just can't take it," Zane thought. They had gone from a crowded, tiny room to five separate spacious rooms. They also had a communication system to talk to each other. The rooms  contained all the things that they had at home. Well, replicas. Zane could tell the dresser in this room wasn't as beat up as his. Even though this all sounded nice, Zane's theory was confirmed that the aliens knew who they really were. "Why else would they give me all this?" Zane thought. Zane also felt like he was being tortured. Seeing all his belongings reminded him of home, and now he was going to be executed the next day, and his family would probably never recognize him. 
Zane fell onto the bed they had made for him. He started thinking about what the others had said when he talked to them. Peggy was thrilled and  had seemingly forgotten they were going to die tomorrow. She apparently didn't care as long as she had her things. Welby and Merona seemed depressed. Welby had tried to make a joke about their situation, but couldn't finish it. Merona was glad she had her things, but wasn't exactly happy about it. “What's the use of having this stuff if it makes you glad and sad at the same time?” she had said. Zane had tried to talk to Jude, but couldn't reach him somehow. He asked the others to try, but they had no such luck. The only explanation Zane could think of was that Jude had come to the same conclusion he had, but was taking it harder. 
Zane then looked over at the bookshelf in his room and noticed a big black book that brought joy to his heart.
“My Bible!” he exclaimed. He rushed over to the book shelf, grabbed the Bible, and immediately opened in. He was very disappointed though, to find that it was blank. He flipped through the pages only to find every single one blank. "Even the maps are gone!" he thought as he threw the book angrily on the floor. 
He wanted to ask his friends if they had Bibles in there rooms, and if they were blank. When he got to where the communication system was, however, he found that it had disappeared. In its place was a note that read: "9:00. Ten minutes to lights out." At that moment the lights turned off, and Zane had to feel his way back to his bed. He finally found it and crashed down onto it. It was going to be a long night. He was alone without his Bible. He didn't memorize many Bible verses, and he couldn't seem to remember the ones he had. It was going to be a very long night. 

Zane awoke to the sound of his alarm clock going off at its usual time of seven o'clock. He turned it off and unconsciously started walking to where his dresser was in his room. 
"What an unusual dream," he thought, "Well, I know that wasn't real so I'll just get..." He didn't finish the thought, for instead of looking at his dresser, he was looking at a white wall. He then realized that it wasn't a dream at all. He was still blue, and he was still held captive by some aliens who were falsely accusing him and his friends of murder. 
He sighed and turned around to look at his dresser on the other side of the room. As he opened the drawers he found all his clothes in there. Well, replicas of his clothes. 
“Well they do make good replicas of my stuff, but they miss some minor details,” Zane said to himself as he unfolded a shirt. “For one, all the clothes in my real dresser are wrinkled.” He started going through the clothing, and a plan was forming in his head. "Maybe if I wear some of my clothes today, someone might get suspicious and recognize me!" he thought. He rummaged through his drawers until he found his favorite clothes, a Spiderman T-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Zane immediately put them on, with a little difficulty getting the shirt over the things on his head. He then looked in the mirror and sighed. “It's a long shot, but it's my only chance,” he said. 
He jumped as the door to the hallway opened, and Andele stepped into the room. 
“I see you have picked your clothes out for your execution,” he said with a smirk. He then gestured to the doorway, “Come now, it is time.”
Zane hesitated for a second. He thought for minute that since Hallis wasn't there that maybe he could take him on. Once he glanced at Andele again, however, that idea quickly dissipated. He was much to big for Zane to take on alone, and it almost seemed as if Andele's muscles had gotten bigger since the last time he saw him. With that in mind, Zane wisely obeyed him, but he was still formulating a plan of escape. 
When he got outside the room, he saw his friends lined up with their heads down, and guarded by more of the aliens including Sandera. They all had seemed to think the same thing as Zane and dress in their favorite clothing. Merona had her Narnia shirt on and a white skirt, Zane saw that she had to cut holes in her shirt for her wings to fit though. Peggy was wearing her favorite blue dress. Jude was dressed in his red tank top and black gym shorts. Welby was the only exception, he was still dressed in the white clothes he had on before. 
Zane was surprised that none of his friends even tried to make eye contact with him, but when he looked to his left he realized why. They were on a ramp that was being lowered onto a field, and right outside they could hear the roar of a crowd. Zane then realized how desperate their situation was. He needed to think of a plan, and fast. 

Copyright Ian R.

No fair! You can't keep making us wait for the next sections!!! (:D)

How else am I gonna keep you guys interested? ;D