Normally, readers find writing and musings on this blog. Well, I’m going to twist it up by trying something completely new. All you silent readers, be silent no longer! I need your input on this project! I’ll post two different versions of a story and you get to tell me which one I should use to continue the story and why. This helps me as a writer because I will be getting constant commentary on my writing; it also is an opportunity for you to control the story! In your comments, you can choose which version you like better, suggest revising ideas for that story, and suggest where the story should go next! I’m not going to be able to write the next chapter of the story if no one comments, so I will wait until I get someone to comment! Got it? Well here’s the first two versions!
“Hey, whatcha lookin’ at, Specks?” A boy jeered. The other boy, the object of the statement, didn’t reply.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” The first boy shoved the second one up to the glass railing of the gym balcony, backed up by all his friends. Specks glanced around nervously, hoping to see the gym teacher nearby. No escape in sight.
“Now what’re you looking at? Do you ever stop looking at things with those huge eyes of yours?” The bully continued to torment. “Are you scared of us?” Specks knew better than to admit his fear.
“Why would I be scared of you?” Specks retorted weakly, stepping into the bully’s face. “Or your friends?”
The bully smiled sardonically, perfectly hiding the anger boiling just below the surface. He savagely pushed Specks toward the balcony, still smiling. The boy hit the railing hard with his lower back and flipped over it, falling to the gym floor with a sickening crunch. The smile faded quickly when he realized what he had done.
He followed the other boys as they ran downstairs. The gym teacher wasn’t far behind, having heard the crunch. Everyone heard it. Specks wasn’t breathing.
Opening his eyes, the boy looked up into the concerned eyes of his gym teacher and the downright worried ones of the other students.
“Peter, wake up. Stay with me, buddy.” The gym teacher muttered. “Come on…” He started CPR, but Peter felt no compressions. He sat up before Mr. Grindel could kiss him in front of everyone.
“I’m awake. I’m totally fine. What’s the problem? What’s the matter with everyone?” No one seemed to hear him. They continued to stare through him anxiously. It was then that he realized that his body hadn’t followed his motions. He turned to look and saw his bloodied and broken body, seemingly asleep. Girls were starting to cry from shock, realizing that Peter would never wake up.
“What happened? Please, someone tell me! Someone please answer me!” Peter’s ghostly voice rose in pitch, but none of the living even twitched in response. “Why am I not in my body anymore? Can anyone hear me?!”
He moved away from his body and tried to touch the witnesses. His hands moved straight through, like they didn’t exist. Panic rose chokingly inside of him.
The medics arrived, much too late, and he applied himself to talking to them; it was to no avail. No one could hear him.
He finally gave up, sat down on the bleachers, and cried ghostly tears.
Remember to comment your suggestions! This project pretty much falls apart if no one comments…so yeah. Help me out here! And here’s a cute kitten picture to help you think! 🙂