Micah and The Wielder Chronicles (FIRST CHAPTER ONLY COVER IN PROCESS)

Chapter One (no chapters will be updated until book is completed)

Micah hated the sound of hospitals.

And the look.

And the smell.

In fact, he even hated taste. Well, of the food of course.

But what he hated even more was the fact that he was always left in the waiting room, the doctors always telling him he wasn't "old enough" to be seeing his own mother's condition. Maybe it was true, but Micah was sure that thirteen was old enough to be able to at least hear what was going on. And he would be turning thirteen soon- even better.

And yet the answer was always no. Like everything in life. All the good positive things about the world were locked away on some rich island in the south. He was just a backstreet kid, with no penny to his name, nor a friend to his back. All his life, he and his mother had lived in the grimiest parts of the city, their homes bombarded with more tourists than money he'd ever have.

He even knew that they wouldn't be able to afford his mother's treatment, and he was sure that his mom understood as well. Soon, he and she would be bursting out the doors, on the run yet again just because some jerk dad stole a bunch of money from a bank once.

But that was in the past. Mr. Pilms would never be back to hurt the two of them ever again. Micah felt disgusted to even be somewhat related to him. He also felt delighted that there was never a father's day card that arrived at Mr. Pilms doorstep because thankfully, Mr. Pilms was his stepdad.

A divorced stepdad.

A rich divorced stepdad.

Oh how he hated the way life worked. The smugness of the population always ended up with the most luxurious nature.

So Micah was left alone yet again, forced to ponder with his thoughts that came and left like everything in the world. To be thinking like that sounded depressing, his therapist had mentioned one time. But that didn't stop him from playing the optimistic role. Who knows, maybe his mom wouldn't die from some unknown disease that even the doctors were too afraid of.

The look of constant tubes connected to her veins, and the gas masks that not only his mom, but the doctors wore made his stomach knot up in spirals. Every now and then, sparks of hope would fly by and embark the steps of his light. Maybe everything would be okay.

Or maybe he just needed to get the odds in his head.

After Micah thought about it, he realized that he'd much rather prefer the first one.

Micah also knew that he had been waiting for at least six hours now since the ambulances had rushed frantically towards the hospital and displayed her frail body like a dinosaur at a museum exhibit.

A dead dinosaur.

Cause, arriving at two in the morning with an unconscious woman would totally not mean that she'd end up like an old sack of bones of the tyrannosaurus or pterodactyl.

Sure.

But it wasn't like he was expecting it. They had just gone for his mother's annual check up the day before, and she had been completely fine then. It didn't make sense when she had suddenly collapsed on the floor much to Micah's horror. And even traveling though the dead of night in a blaring vehicle, he had been driven wide awake. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had blinked, the crushing apprehension resting heavily on his shoulders.

His mind was brought back to the present as a nurse in a criss-tight bun suddenly walked past him with a huge smile on her face, as if it wasn't a place where people were always fighting for their lives. The screams of the dead just somehow seemed to pass her, their oblivious nature absorbing the air.