Writer's Blog (megancrewe) wrote,
Writer's Blog

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Where we begin

A few people commented that the narrating voice in "Frozen" seemed a bit mature for a 13-year-old, so out of curiosity I dug into my old archives to see what I was writing at 13, with amusing results. Below you will find a section of a story called "Our Destiny" which I wrote shortly after my 13th birthday. Unedited.

Possessed magicians! Talking cats! Castle windows with the wrong kind of locks! Laugh as you will.


I located the man that I believed to be the magician in a room talking to his advisor.

"Adair is bringing them here tomorrow morning!" he said with joy."I do love the idea of getting those creeps, though I'm not sure why."

"You don't know why?" the advisor asked, amazed.

"Not exactly. You see, this voice spoke to me in a dream and told me that they were very bad and I was to prevent them from going any where. Adair was happy to comply." He laughed.

The magician continued to ramble on, but I left, my purpose for now for filled. So Adair was in league with her father, but what was that laugh about? There was no way he was sane, a voice in a dream? Oh well, now for the dungeons. We would need a way to escape.

There were no other people in the dungeon, no guard because there were no prisoners. I guessed that the dungeon was mostly for show, as were the clouds. There was only one cell, so I stepped inside and felt the wall, searching for a weak spot. The dungeon walls were made of stone and so were all but one of the cell walls. The other, the one with the door, was bars. The musty smell of mildew rose from the stones.

Suddenly, I heard voices, so I ducked behind the bed. Two guards walked in .

"Time to lock up," one said and went to lock the window with a silver key.

"No point in locking the door, at least until tomorrow!" said his partner. He wiggled his eyebrows and the other burst out laughing. I guessed they'd never had real prisoners before.

Thank goodness they didn't lock the door, I thought. When they were well gone, I quickly slipped down the hall to the window I had come in through. I could have screamed when I saw it was already locked, as were the rest. Why couldn't he have normal locks on his windows? I wondered. I hope he doesn't suspect... no, how could he know I was here.

I went back to the dungeon and found a place, outside of the cell, where no one would be able to see me. I sat to wait for morning, but, by accident, I fell asleep and didn't wake up until the guards came back, this time with Tyndal, Adair, and Cyla. When the guards were gone, they began to blame each other.

"It was your idea to come here!" Cyla snarled at Adair, wrinkling her fur.

"You were the ones who wanted to stop my father from doing anything else," she grumbled back.

"I wonder how the magician knew we were coming?" Tyndal murmured.

"Rain told him, of course!" Adair snapped."Why else would she leave without telling us? She probably got scared of him and decided to save herself by turning us in!"

I waited for Tyndal to say “She wouldn't do that!" or something of the sort, but he didn't! As I watched him I was over come by a strange feeling and, all at once, I heard one of his thoughts. ‘How could I have misjudged Rain like that,' he was thinking.

I pulled my mind back in surprise, both because I'd never seen anyone's thoughts before, and because he was actually believing her. I tried to tell myself it was only because of Adair's magic, but I could feel anger pounding in my brain. I t was so loud I almost missed what was next said, and that would have been disastrous.

"I have a spare key," Adair was saying, “From when my father used to put me in here. It's right under this stone."

As she turned to lift the stone it happened again. ‘I'll just get out and lock them back in again!' she was thinking.

No! I thought, and restrained myself from coming out and strangling her through the bars. I had to wait for the crucial moment or I would mess everything up and end up in the cell with them.

Okay, now Adair was unlocking the door. I had a few seconds hesitation in which I wondered if it would work. Then, as soon as she was out, I sprang from my hiding spot and tackled her to the floor.

"Rain! What are you doing?" Tyndal cried. Cyla ran out while she had the chance.

"She's trying to trap you!" I said as I struggled to keep Adair away from the door."Get out!"

Unfortunately, I still was wearing my pack and it threw me off balance. Adair grabbed the key and swung the door closed to lock it.

"Why didn't you get out?" I yelled at Tyndal. He was obviously so crazy about her that he couldn't see the truth about her with it shoved in his face.

"But... I thought...?" he stuttered, looking from me to Adair. She smiled venomously.

"I sure tricked you, didn't I?" she laughed, but it was not a kind laugh."I'm so sorry, but your sweet Adair had to take a break."

My stomach flipped unpleasantly. Adair pivoted to face me and started to attack, but she had forgotten about Cyla. The cat launched herself on to Adair's back and scratched and bit. Adair was shrieking, Cyla was yowling, Tyndal was hollering at them, and I was standing there taking it all in. The door flew open and in strode the magician, not looking very happy at all. His pointy, black beard was twitching and his grey eyes glaring.

"What is all this racket!" he yelled so loud that we all silenced."I would have let you live longer, but you are becoming a very big nuisance!" He began a spell I had no doubt would kill us.

I rummaged through my pack, not sure what I was looking for. Ah, this might work! I thought just as he reached out his hands to cast the spell. I held out the item I had found to block it. The spell bounced off the gold-framed mirror, as I'd thought would. What I wasn't expecting was the spell hitting the magician. He clutched his head and suddenly, he disappeared. I shuddered.

I snatched the key off Adair, who was still standing there, stunned, and unlocked the cell. Tyndal and I embraced each other and turned to see how the others were. Cyla was sitting, nonchalantly, washing. Adair was standing in the same spot, her hand closed as if she was still holding the key and her face was a pale, sickly, yellow. She was shaking violently. Tears streamed from her eyes and, like she had been held up by a string that had suddenly broken, she fainted. No one moved to help her.


Speaking of "Frozen", I decided I could fore-go another rewrite for now and settled for merely line-editing. Am awaiting the verdict.

Tags: early work, writing

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