I couldn't stop reading "Future" all weekend. It was one of the most interesting stories I've ever read. The style of writing was not good, neither was the wording, but the random placing of stories and events couldn't keep me from turning the pages.
One story told of a boy who's mother died when he was nine. Shortly after, he was taken into the care of his grandparents because his father was out of work and couldn't support his son. One part of this tale read so clear and specific, I felt like it was real: His pale hands reached for his grandmothers, shaking. As for why his hands were shaking he wasn't sure; fear, sorrow, regret, unsecurity, dread, hopefulness. Why would his hands be shaking out of hopefulness? The boy hadn't seen his grandparents since he was six. That was going to change now. They are his caretakers. They are his guardians. They are his mentors. They are his grandparents. These simple thoughts were all that was needed to make this young boy hopeful.
I reread that part 3 times.
By the time it was Monday my arm had healed and I was nearly 3/4 done with the book from Paulina. I walked into the library for a quite reading place. To my discovery only three workers were present. A dark haired boy, a blonde girl by the name of Andy, and Paulina.
I sat in a wooden chair by the only window in the library. The lights were off, but the colossal window provided plenty of light through the entire building. The room seems much bigger when the blinds are open, it makes me feel not so clostrophobic.
My eyes scanned the pages of "Future" until I ran into something peculiar: A character with my exact name. Ellia Bridget Lane. My suspicions lowered after reading on. But once again I couldn't help but pause. Ellia had my exact birthday too. January 19th, 1991.
'Something's not right about this.' I thought to myself. The passage read: Ellia franticly flailed her arms. They waved nearly in slow motion as she reached for the object closest to her. There was none. This truth struck her all at once. Nothing could save her. She had fallen. No one could catch her. She had fallen. Her ragdoll-like body bounced from the ground. She had fallen.
My fall from the ladder last week. I groaned. Who was this aurthor? I quickly flipped to the back of the book where there was a short authors bio. His name is Alfie Tailer. "What else can I find about this Alfie."
Thank you to Aly for helping me edit this
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Unititled For Now
Teen FictionEllia has found a new book interest in the library. However, there's something strange about it. The story line is real; from every last detail about Ellia's name, friends, her birthday is even perfectly recorded in this odd book. What is this autho...
