Hi guys! I know…..I haven’t blogged in a super duper long time. But, as you may have guessed based on the title of this blog post, I have a reason for this…..I started writing again! Usually it takes quite a bit to get me motivated enough to decide to write a book, but I got a burst of inspiration last week and I luckily haven’t stopped writing since then.
Anyway, I was kind of hesitant at first to share this with you guys because I wasn’t sure what you would think, but I realized that I really wanted your feedback on it. So, the following is an excerpt from my current project – sort of like the prologue, if you want to call it that. I hope you enjoy it!
In the beginning, there was fire.
Deep shades of red and yellow dotted my vision. I blinked, trying to grasp my surroundings. I couldn’t see anything beyond the wall of constantly moving flames. Fire.
November, my thoughts sang. That’s your name. November.
And eyes. I remembered them, bright green eyes, staring into mine, as if they were trying to bore a hole there. The image was so clear, it seemed as if they were right there in front of me.
That’s…. that’s all I remembered.
It seemed impossible. Knowledge flooded my thoughts; so much knowledge that it seemed like my brain would burst from all the information it contained. And yet, somehow, I still couldn’t remember anything about my life besides my own name. And those eyes.
One thing I knew for sure: I had to get out of here. But where is here, anyway? A spark caught onto a lock of my long dark hair, and I quickly shook it out. I got up shakily to my feet, hands trembling. Slowly, I managed to put one foot in front of the other until the movement somewhat resembled a tremulous run.
Flames jumped out at me, reaching for some unknown force I couldn’t see. A whirlwind of colors was racing me, chasing me, hunting me down.
And then it hit me. Panic.
White-hot fear stabbed me like a knife. I was nearly blinded by the flames, and I had nowhere to run. My memories had dissipated, leaving me here with nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape. I couldn’t keep on running; I couldn’t go on any longer. I collapsed, my legs giving out beneath me.
Fire caught all around me. I felt it first on my feet, slowly climbing up to my knees and my thighs. A pain like I had never experienced blazed through my veins, and my vision clouded over until I could barely make out the silhouette of the flames. A realization hit me suddenly like a shot to the stomach: I was being burnt alive.
All of a sudden, the pain diminished. My desperate fear had somehow morphed into an overwhelming sense of calm that wrapped around me like a security blanket. I was safe. This was supposed to happen; it had been planned all along. I was being sucked into the earth, just like my memories had been. It would be like I had never even existed.
And then I saw her: the girl. She was draped in a long silk dress that perfectly complemented her young figure, and her blonde curls blew behind her, keeping in rhythm with the dance of the flames. The flames crept up her body, blackening the end of her dress, and yet it appeared as if she felt no pain. But what startled me most were her bright green eyes. I felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu. I knew her; her eyes were in my vision.
My thoughts were interrupted when she opened her mouth. Because then she spoke.
“November,” she said. “Remember. Listen to the past. You are the only one who can.”
I tried to answer her, to ask what she was talking about, to ask where we were. But it was as if my lips had turned to stone.
A hand extended out in front of me, reaching for the flaming girl. The hand’s fingernails were painted a deep red to match the flames. I realized with a jolt that the hand belonged to November. Me, I reminded myself. I’m November.
The girl gazed at my hand, at my face. A sad smile tugged at her mouth. Her once-piercing green eyes seemed to have softened. In fact, it seemed that everything had lost its color. The flames’ deep red shade had softened to a dull red, and I looked at my fingernails to see that they had, too. The girl’s once emerald green dress had faded to a shade that matched her pale eyes.
One last time, she called out to me. “November.”
The flames disappeared, leaving my body new and unscathed. My dark hair was spread out all around me like a crown. I looked up to see a tiny piece of blue sky in a world full of grays and blacks and whites.
Before I could manage to lift up my hand and grab that tiny piece of bright blue sky, to hold it, to touch it, to taste it, the sky turned to a dark gray color to match the rest of my surroundings. A deep sense of dread and longing filled the pit of my stomach. No, I wanted to call out to that tiny piece of once bright blue sky. Come back.
But my lips had once again turned to stone, and it seemed like the rest of my body had, too. I thought of the flaming girl’s piercing green eyes, of my deep red fingernails, of that tiny piece of bright blue sky that had looked so out of place in a world full of grays and blacks and whites.
I closed my eyes, and the world went black.