Teens Writing for Teens, issue 6

My mother’s body lies in an unmarked grave just outside the castle’s walls. That is where the king buries his traitors, and come sundown tomorrow, that is where my beheaded corpse will be laid to rest.

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Elysium said:

Hey everyone!

I don't have any homework today so I'm writing. I also 'outlined' the first act of my wip and am now starting over. Well, not completely. I'm just rewriting the first chapter.

What do you guys think of this new opening?

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amlptj said:

Pulled me right in! I think its awesome!!!

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Thursday was the first day the teachers assigned homework, and while she and other girls groaned, Sophie didn’t think it sounded like much work at all. Half a page of math and five hundred words on her summer vacation was maybe a half-hour of work, if she turned off her phone and didn’t look at the Internet.

Of course, it only took Veronika five minutes at lunch to do the math, and another five to finish the essay.

“Oh, hooray!” cheered Danielle. “Look at you, doing your homework! I feel so much pride in my heart.”

“Is this a rare event?” asked Sophie.

Danielle nodded. “’tis indeed,” she said. “Usually, our resident sociopath doesn’t do her homework, and must rely on excellent test scores to pass!”

“Those must be really excellent test scores,” said Sophie.

Danielle nodded. “We are truly friends with a genius sociopath indeed!”

“I am not a genius or a sociopath,” said Veronika, though she didn’t look as put out as she sounded.

Danielle hugged her. “Of course not,” she said.

Veronika attempted to swat her away, like she was some sort of fly.

“Dani!” called a voice behind them. Danielle let go of the taller girl—to her relief—and ran off toward Rachel Silverstein.

“Rachel, oh cousin of mine, how art thou?” she asked, flinging her arms open to hug the girl.

Rachel glared at Sophie. “You gave her chocolate, didn’t you?” She sighed, pushing her cousin off. “Our class made a pact to never feed her caffeine in the middle of the day after the afternoon in middle school when she jumped on the desk and began reciting something from Macbeth.”

Sophie bit her lip. “Well, the English teacher must have appreciated that—“

“It was in Geography.”

“Oh,” said Sophie. “Well… um, sorry.”

Rachel sighed again. “Whatever.” She looked back at Danielle. “Anyway, don’t worry about Saturday dinner. The not-sister’s going out with her not-girlfriend, so it doesn’t matter.”

Not-girlfriend? wondered Sophie.

“Not-girlfriend?” said Veronika. “Was that her response to the first time you called her your not-sister?”

“Will you do my math homework if I tell you?” asked Rachel.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Veronika.

Rachel groaned. “One of these days,” she said, “I will find a good bargaining chip. And then you will be at my mercy.”

“Can’t wait,” drawled Veronika.

Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed Danielle’s hand. “Time for French,” she said, dragging the girl off. “You two have fun in your super-advanced-mother’s-tongue class. Us mediocre girls will attempt to spell some three letter words.” She then rounded on Danielle. “If you start shouting “unsex me here” this time, I will slap the daylights out of you.”

“’Unsex me here’?” repeated Sophie as the other girls went down the hall.

“Did they not teach Macbeth at your old school?” asked Veronika, still looking at her laptop. “Pity.”

“That’s the one where he kills the king and goes insane, right?” asked Sophie.

“Yes, if you were explaining the story to children.”

Sophie ignored the insult. “Is that Dani’s favorite Shakespeare play?”

“Yes,” came Veronika’s reply.

Sophie bit her lip. “What’s Rachel’s favorite?” she asked. “If she has one. I mean, most teenagers don’t—”

“Richard III,” interrupted Veronika.

Sophie blinked in surprise. “And yours?”

Veronika was silent for a moment. “Romeo and Juliet,” she replied, in a smaller voice.

Sophie tried not to laugh. “You like romance?” she asked, in the least judgmental voice she could muster.

Veronika rolled her eyes. “Romeo and Juliet isn’t a romance,” she said, with an exasperated sigh. “It’s about parents who mistreat their children and end up suffering as a result.” She paused for a moment. “And I do like that.”

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My name is Will Cross. I used to be a human who wouldn't have hurt a fly. Now I am a vampire and I have murdered. This is my story.

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I opened the door and walked into the stuffy, stale hallways of George Ellis Secondary School. As usual, the smell of sweat overwhelmed me and I nearly gagged. I went to the bathroom and had a piss. I could hear someone shitting in the cubicle behind me. The door opened and the boy inside came out.

“Getting ready to drink your piss, eh?”

Ethan went to the sink and washed his hands. I went to the only remaining working sink – next to him – and started to wash mine. He started to try and dry his hands in my hair, but I moved away.

“Fuck off.” I dried my hands and started to leave the bathroom.

“Don’t want to.”

I left. The bell rung and I went to registration, hoping to sit as far away from Ethan and his mates as I could.

Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Liam and Luke were standing outside the classroom, smirks all over their faces.

“Hey, Will,” Liam called, “have you arranged your funeral yet?”

“Shut up!” I sat down and waited for our tutor, Mr Turner to appear.

“Not going to!” They laughed.

Luke called, “You’ll have to remember to order the flowers for your mum to put on your grave!”

“I said shut up!” I got up to hit him, but Mr Turner appeared.

“Trying to fight, boys?”

“No, sir.” Luke said, his eyes glinting.

“Good, otherwise I’d have to put you in detention.” He smiled one of his evil smiles. “Now go inside.”

We went inside and I sat the back, hoping to avoid everyone that was in the room at the moment. But I kept an eye out for who came through the door.

A few minutes later, she came through the door. Ruby, otherwise know as the most beautiful girl ever. But as fucking usual, she was hanging off Ethan’s arm. She smiled. As cheesy as it sounds, I had butterflies in my stomach. Just behind them, Carlos walked in.

Carlos is one of those people that needs explaining. He’s really weird and speaks in a weird accent, which he says is to do with the fact that he’s Italian but has spent a lot of time here, which is weird to me because he hasn’t been here long, or so he says. I reckon he’s an illegal immigrant or something. He does some really weird things sometimes, like sniffing when someone’s got a cut or licking his lips at pictures of dead things. But he’s my closest friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him to be honest.

He sat next to me and clapped on the back. “How was your weekend?”

“Same old shit as usual.” I sat back and closed my eyes.

“Oh, dear.”

I could hear everyone else coming in. I didn’t open my eyes until the sound got so unbearable, I had to. Mr Turner was sitting at his desk, eyes scanning the room. I sat up. He started taking the register and I counted down the seconds until I could escape, just like I did every single day.

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