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(PLEASE REVIEW) Spark Factor

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26 December 2010, 07:32 AM   #1
Joined: 25 Feb 2010
Posts: 88
Spark Factor


I love darkness. It envelopes me completely, engulfs my soul, surrounds me. I can sit
alone in my room and play my Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, pretending to live
with the characters for hours on end. The darkness enchants me, calls to me, makes me
smitten with it. Not even candlelight suits me; just the pure blackness of my room. I can
feel at peace with the world; darkness sings to me and swirls into my dreams. It is the
only thing that brings me joy, apart from Broadway soundtracks.

Which is my reason why I will throw the closest object at the person who thrusts open my
door without, letting stupid light float in and chase away my beautiful darkness, and
taking the mood from the music. 
 "Dammit, Sadie! What is it?" I demanded, pissed off. My stepmom laughed, switching on the
lights and further infuriating me. 
 "It's mom, sweetie." She corrected in her sickeningly cheerful voice. She went on
to chastise me in the most irritatingly friendly way possible, the stupid smile never
leaving her face. "Firstly, please don't throw pillows at me, Erika. Really, honey, do you
need to be in the dark? It's not good for your eyes; we'll have to strengthen your glasses
prescription soon. And please, turn off your organ music." 

I scowled. Like I cared about my stupid glasses prescription! I just wanted the gorgeous
blackness and my music. Speaking of which, how dare she insult the theme music of the
greatest creation of all time! What, would Sadie rather I listened to Justin
Bieber, or something? Straightening my glasses, I sat up and groaned, pressing the
'off' button of my iHome. 
"Just tell me what you want, Sadie – 
“Whatever! Just tell me what you want and GET. OUT." 

My stepmom laughed again. I was shaking with fury. Did this woman never feel anything but
perky happiness? Sometimes I envied her ability to do so, but now I looked upon it with
disgust. Clearly, she was no artistic soul. Artistic souls are so wrought with passion
that they are rarely happy. It's a bitter price to pay for our talent.  
“No need to freak out on me, Erika. It's just that I wanted to show you this." With
that, she brandished a letter written in fancy script. 

The lovely calligraphy appealing to my bespectacled eyes, I leaped up from my bed, and
snatched the letter from her. I read it. 
Dear Erica O'Mullan, 
We are pleased to inform you that after careful examination of your submissions, you have
been granted an Arts and Music scholarship to Leroux Academy for Young Ladies. As a new
arrival, you are invited to arrive on the evening of Friday, the fourteenth of December.
You will be greeted by our Headmistress, Doctor Meredith, who will bring you to your
dormitory. For directions to the school, please follow the directions from your home to
the address provided on the envelope. You may find the directions online. 
Kindest Regards,
Maria Leonard, Deputy Headmistress  

My eyes widened. “Great.” Without giving back the letter, I waved my hand dismissively
at Sadie, and she went away. Closing my door, I grinned. So I was accepted to the
prestigious all-girls boarding school. This was good news, especially since it was a
boarding school. Now I could finally get away from my happy-go-lucky stepmom, her prissy
daughters, and my overworking dad! And the best part? Only a week to go.

26 December 2010, 12:43 PM   #2
The Founder
Joined: 1 Apr 2009
Posts: 350
I like this story. Good descriptions. Love the classic "step mom thinks she's your real
mother but really, you  hate her" setup. Keep writing!
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26 December 2010, 07:38 PM   #3
Joined: 25 Feb 2010
Posts: 88
Spark Factor
Chapter One 

The days leading up to my departure sped by, to my inner delight. This secret balloon of
happiness being inflated within my heart could be punctured by nothing; not the fact that
Sadie or her lame daughters wouldn't give me a moment alone because they were going to
'miss me', not the sneers or comments made by my classmates about the school I was
joining, not even the fact that my dad actually called me from work, pretending to be all
buddy-buddy with me when we rarely saw one another. 

When the day finally came for me to start over anew with the world, I woke up feeling
uncharacteristically perky, combing out my hair and yanking it into a ponytail excitedly.
Moving as quickly as I could, I made a mad dash down the stairs, where Sadie waited with
my suitcase. Unfortunately, she would be giving me a lift to the train station, and Jenny
and Diana would be along for the ride. Still, my balloon floated inside, and I climbed
into the car, smiling. The smile, of course, was wiped off of my face when Diana popped
her Justin Bieber album into the radio. Not without a great inner struggle did I suppress
a groan as my two older stepsisters proceeded to squeal about how 'hot' Bieber was while
his irritating high-pitched voice attacked my ears. 

Trying to ignore the awful noise, my eyes were drawn to the window which my head leaned
upon. Peeling the side of my face from the cold, smooth glass, I turned to look at my
reflection. Grimacing at first sight of myself was a reflex for me, but today was
different. Instead, I observed the small aspects of myself which had changed over the past
few months. The army of freckles on my nose which I predicted would try to invade my face
had recruited a few more since September, I realized. I had gotten quite paler. My hair
was still as straight and dark brown as ever, although it had grown a little. 

My thoughts were soon interrupted when I felt the car rolling to a stop. 

I can't tell you what happened between the time the car stopped and I got on the train. To
me, it is no more than a blurry, almost-forgotten dream, if I try to strain my memory. The
most surreal thing? One moment I was looking at my reflection, the next, I sat on the
train, my baggage beside me. 

I spent the first hour of the long journey asleep, and the next snacking on a peanut
butter sandwich I had packed. The rest of the time was spent leaning back, crooning softly
to myself while shuffling cards. Strangely, my actions did not earn me any odd stares. If
anyone thought a thirteen year old girl dressed in high-collared black lace from head to
toe, with a large hat and funeral-like black veil covering her face shuffling cards and
humming Phantom of the Opera under her breath was odd, they certainly didn't betray their

After a few more naps, snacks, and games of solitaire, the train, too, rolled to a stop,
the skies now a dark gray. I stepped out, reading the directions on the papers I had
printed out from the internet. The school wasn't very far, and it was actually quite
pleasant to have the snow falling softly on me as I walked. 

When I finally arrived, my breath was taken away. Leroux Academy stood before me - an
enormous complex of Baroque-style castle-like buildings. Black marble and stone majesty
loomed thousands of stories above my head, calling to me. I do believe I stood for at
least a good fifteen minutes, admiring it. After a while, I tore my gaze from it, and
stepped up to the engraved, gorgeous doors. Entering, I held my breath, wondering what I
would find inside.

30 December 2010, 08:02 PM   #4
Joined: 9 Jun 2008
Posts: 669
I read the prologue and so far so good. It got me interested in the story, because how
she likes the dark. As for grammar and spelling I really didn't see anything wrong.

Good luck!

Oh, and if you wouldn't mind...could you check out my new story (The Locker Room). I would
be really grateful if you do so!

30 December 2010, 09:00 PM    #5
Joined: 25 Feb 2010
Posts: 88
 It would be my pleasure!
And thanks!

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