Category Archives: Writing
I skipped a week of “The Boom” due to the length of the chapter (despite it still being rather short) and due to the limited time I had. Well, here is the next chapter…Enjoy!
Then I’m… I’m slapped. Nothing too forceful, more like the slap you would give to an unconscious person in attempt to wake them up. I guess that’s exactly what it is.
It’s Saturday! And what does that mean I hear you ask? Well, it means the next chapter of “The Boom” is published!
Well, here it is! Again, a short chapter but it has to end here! We’re at a really good bit and I’m hoping for the next chapter or two to be really thrilling and exciting!
I look around. I’m in a cupboard. It’s more black in here than my French teacher, Mrs Trotter’s heart.
Who could have untied me?
I’m softly kicked in the back. Only one person I know kicks as pathetically as that.
I turn around.
A very bloody Troy. A very, very bloody Troy. I can just see his face and no more thanks to the little light coming through from key hole.
It’s weird. I can’t see where the blood is coming from. He doesn’t seem to have any wounds where that amount of blood cam escape from. Not even one bruise from his ginger hair to his pointed shoes.
“Troy! I thought you were dead or that you just left me to survive myself! – What the hell is going on? Judy is dead and so are many others and there was an explosion and there was gas and then…”
Troy places his finger on his lip, obviously telling me to shut up and calm down. I do as he wishes.
“It’s terrorists Norman. Terrorists. They’re in the school.” He whispers.
“So I was right then, I thought it was. Or something like terrorists anyway. Can I just ask, why are you covered in blood, yet, I can’t see any wounds on you, not even a bruise!” I reply.
He wipes blood away from his mouth and is clearly about to answer my question, but before he goes any further, I place my hand over his sticky lips.
I hear voices.
Not pupils’ voices. No teachers’.
Not a voice I recognise anyway. And at that, not a language I recognise.
It isn’t foreign. I don’t think.
It is pure Scottish, just like everyone else in the school. Both male by the sounds of it.
The words they use make no sense.
“Package B.L.A.C.K Mars Bar alpha.” is what I pick up.
Troy is moving my hand away from his lips. I signal for him to stay quiet, placing my finger on my lips, giving a haunting stare. He takes the hint.
They’re closer to the door, still talking nonsense.
I pluck up the courage to manoeuvre myself as silently as I can, to try and see through the key hole.
All I can see is legs. One of the two sets of legs belong to someone really fat. I mean, insanely fat. Fatter than Bertha, the dinner lady with about twenty thousand moles on her excuse for a face, and that’s saying something. The other pair of legs boasting designer trousers, belongs to a completely opposite kind of man, one which is really skinny. Maybe even anorexic.
I’m about to position myself to an angle so I can see their faces when I pick up the word cupboard.
The men stop talking. The skinny one is making his way towards the door. I put one and one together and realise that they are the ones who tied me up, and chucked me in the cupboard. They must have done something similar to Troy.
I’m panicked. I don’t know what to do.
Luckily, Troy was tuned in the whole time. He knows just as well as me what’s about to happen. He signals to me something related to death, striking his finger along his neck. At first I think he’s going to kill me but then I realise he wants me to act dead, or at least unconscious. Before I can even close my eyes, I feel the blindfold being placed back on me and ropes being flung on me. Then someone, assumingly Troy, just collapses on my legs, as if he just lost all life.
I hear keys rattling.
A key is inserted into the key hole by the sounds of it.
The door is unlocked.
The door is opening.
Well would you believe it! – It has been roughly a week since I published “The Boom: Chapter 1″ which I loved writing and believe it or not, through Twitter and email, I got quite a good bit of feedback! I may start a feedback page where I’ll post some of the feedback which people have agreed to let me publish, but that’s later in the game.
Anyway, here it is, Chapter 2! – Not as long as Chapter 1, but I once read that a chapter should only be as long as it needs to be and should end where it needs to end. Well, that’s the case here, it’s as long as it should be and ends where it needs to end.
I’m waking. Was I asleep? Am I dead? Am I about to enter heaven or the afterlife? I can’t seem to get my head around what is happening. One minute I was talking to Troy and the next thing I know, there is an explosion and now I’m… Actually where am I?
I’m blind. Somehow the gas got to my eyes and so, I’m blind. That’s it. I can’t see a thing. I’ll have to learn Braille and walk about with a stick to vision my surroundings. Surely not. I may just be blindfolded.
At least I’m not deaf. I can hear footsteps from all around me.
At least I’m away from the smell of gas.
I try to get up. It doesn’t take long to realise that I can’t. I’m tied up.
This morning is just getting more and more like a film, or a video game. If only it were a film or game, anything but this hellish nightmare.
I don’t try to do anything else. I feel tired. It’s weird. I’m felling the way I felt when I had that two hour long nose bleed in Spain last year. Have I lost blood?
Things are starting to make sense.
Explosion. Gas. I’m tied up as if being held hostage. There’s only one real possibility. Terrorists. Or something like terrorists – mad people wanting revenge or attention, or something like that. I’m reminded of a documentary I watched in religious studies about terrorists that held children and adults hostage for three days in Russia. Over a hundred children and parents died. That film scared me. I feared for the children and their parents. I feared the non impossible event of it happening to me.
But this isn’t 2004. Security should be tighter, especially in this area of the county, and why would anyone want vengeance or this sort of attention round these parts of the town in such a violent way?
How did these mad men, or women, get into the school? Past the secretaries, past the janitors, past CCTV? Maybe they’re not adults. Maybe they’re pupils. Yeah. That’s more like it. Pupils. Pupils from the past maybe, who have something against the school, or even the present pupils. I just don’t know.
Being tied up and confused gives me some time to think about the situation. A matter of great curiosity hits me.
What happened to him? Where is Troy now? How could I forget about my best friend? The person who was talking to me just before the boom?
He definitely wasn’t in the area we were talking in, which happened to be the same place of the death of Judy. I would have noticed him if he was just lying around. He’s kind of like the male version of Judy, hard to miss. If only he had a smile on his face everyday.
Where could he possibly be? Maybe I was unconscious after the boom, and he got up whilst I was under. -Thought I was dead and moved on. He’s stupid and inconsiderate enough to do such a thing. But, he’s my friend. More than friend. Like a brother from another mother.
Oh well. I’m not really caring about Troy at the moment. I need to untie myself and I need to find out if I am really blind. Well… I don’t have to do anything. These things are done for me soon enough.
Someone, or something, is untying me. But I can’t hear the footsteps anymore. Am I to be untied and forced to witness a suicide bomber… Well… Blow up?
My hands are free.
It turns out I was blindfolded.
I’m not blind.