Failed First Chapters

Colorful Pages

This one was written a little while after I'd actually started getting good at playing the drums. The idea was to have a troubled kid musician find his band of misfits, the twist being that said troubled kid had sound to sight synesthesia.

Story description

Maximilian Scortch is a shy drummer with  synesthesia, bringing his love for music to life with colors that dance through his eyes. He will form the band known as the Unanimous Musicians.

Chapter one

Step One

An ear piercing beep sounded through a cluttered room from inside of a half emptied box. A skinny, pale hand reached into the box and began sorting through the different materials until landing upon the stop button of the alarm clock. A small sigh escaped the lips of the boy before sounding a cry for more sleep. His eyes watered and his ears popped with the yawn.

A quick stretch of his thin arms and rub of his diamond blue eyes turned his body to face the uncovered window. The orange glow illuminated his golden blonde hair, his natural white highlights catching every stray ray of living sun. He watched the unbelievably fluffy looking cotton balls, called clouds, float above him. The steady morning wind shaped them into many things. One shape that stood out to the boy was very skullesk. Almost like something off of a pirate flag in the movies. A slow solid blink pulled the clear blue from the awe of the sky.

The quick mutter "I have to get ready..." was loud enough to move the still air and awaken the ears of the building. The boy grabbed a pair of fashionably shredded pants that hung from his new closet's door and covered his practically bare legs with the cloth. Next he took the plain white t-shirt that hung behind the pair of jeans he had just removed. On top of the shirt he placed a deep red plaid flannel. He then ran his boney fingers through the short mop of yellow and white that sat on his scalp. As he did so he made his way to a mirror. He wanted to get that sort of 'bad boy' look going on. It worked for the most part. The only thing missing was gel to hold it still. Having all of his buried in cardboard etc. The boy changed his hairstyle. A now more simple, flatter, due rose above him.

Grabbing his phone and attached headphones from off of the near by dresser he left the room. One swift motion brought his body from the top of the long downward faced staircase to the bottom. Cold lanolin pressed against his still bare feet, sending a slight shiver up his spine. A loud yell brought the boys attention away from his own experience and to the kitchen.

"I need it you stupid-!" His step father. A vile man with no sense of respect. The things he said to the boy's mother had become regular. Then again, the boy only caught what he heard when he wasn't in the room. The man seemed to want to appear as a good person in front of his step son.

Not wanting the harsh treatment to continue the boy rushed into the room. The two sets of eyes quickly made their way to him. The wrinkled, hairy, tan hand of the step father raised in the air, hovering above the mother's quivering body. It quickly fell to a large mug that sat on the marble counter top.

"Good morning, Max!" The man chimed through spit lathered lips.

"I told you not to call me that..." The boy mumbled beneath his breath.

"What was that?!" The man stepped away from the boy's mother and toward the boy.

"I was just saying what a morning it is!" The boy cheered through his teeth pulling his head back, signaling his mother to leave the room. She did as instructed.

"It is indeed! Are you ready for school, sport?!" The man took the same hand that had almost touched the cowering woman with and patted the boy on the back.