Back To.... WRITING!!!

Finally, I'm back on track. It's my goal to write at least 800 words a day, and so far I'm having no trouble doing that (though it is still freezing down there, and I have to wear a thousand layers of clothes... when it's 30 degrees celcius!) and InVincible is at 16,200 words right now. Yesterday I jot-notedly planned the rest of the story, and I think it'll be about 120,000 words - though I really want to break into the 150's.

Here's an excerpt of what I wrote.

P.S. this is an extreme rough draft - because the NaNoWriMo writing style worked for me (otherwise it's hard to write because my inner critic is a beeper) so please don't judge this or think I'm a bad writer or anything. Please. (I'm a little bit more insecure about this piece because I was really trying to get a guyish look on things.... lately Vince has become somewhat girly).

InVincible

She even insisted on walking me home.

“This is where you live?” Our backup for tailings, a tall apartment building with relatively low security, admitted our access.

“Yes.”

“And your parents are what?”

“Never said what they were.”

“So tell me.” I was trying to avoid looking in her eyes but she caught me, and I couldn’t look away.

“Dead.”

She looked shocked and I almost liked it – it was hard to find something to shock Wings. I’d only seen her four times, but each time she’d been so used to weirdness and adaptable in any situation, I’d actually spent some time thinking about a way to surprise her. But I’d never admit it, just as I would have never admitted my parents were dead – even if it was only to me. That was private. She hadn’t needed to know, but now she was looking at me and trying to share my grief. I’d made a mistake telling her, opening up, and it was partially her fault. Still, I needed to fix it.

“They’re dead, to me.” I tried, then as she opened her mouth to prompt me with more questions, “it’s too complicated to explain.”

“Okay.” Relief flooded my veins, and I pulled out the old fashioned key which would have no use on this door. I faked realizing this, and dug around in my empty pockets.

Wings just stared, trying to find more words. “Who’s apartment is this?” The questions started again.

“My brothers, but I forgot my key.”

She looked worried.

“It’s ok, we hid one around here just in case.” A smile lit up the dark space. “But I can’t show you where. My brother would kill me.”

“Oh.” She frowned, “Is it Paul?”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Paul, is he your brother?”

I decided to let her have it, even if it wasn’t true, just to end the questions and get rid of her.

“Yes, goodbye.”

“Bye.” She turned, then turned back to me, smiling again. “I knew it was Paul because he has the same jaw line as you and he looks like he could kill someone.”

I had to admit, I was surprised. Not only about the similar face shape Wings thought we shared, but the idea of him killing someone. She definitely wasn’t wrong about his abilities, but one thing bothered me.

“Do I look like I could kill someone?”

She smiled, as if her answer was good. I wasn’t so sure she knew what the ‘good’ answer would be. “Nope, your too nice, and your arms aren’t as thick. Paul could strangle you to death with one arm.”

She left, but I stood there for a few moments before heading down the fire escape. Her face was still on my mind, burned into my eyelids. She didn’t know that you hardly needed any muscle at all to strangle someone, but nonetheless she thought Paul was stronger than me. She thought I couldn’t kill someone.

I geared up into a slow run as I wound down the street leading to the warehouse. It was an insult, I was sure, to tell a trained killer he didn’t look like he could kill someone. I could kill anyone. I could kill her, although for some reason I didn’t want to do it. I’d had plenty of opportunities though.

But what about our faces? I’d never looked hard enough to compare my looks to anyone else, hardly even cared about them. But Paul, it was plain to see, was pretty good looking. Stocky, constant 5 o’clock shadow, and deep dark eyes made our boss literally beg him to go on cash. For the sake of the Mass, he’d tried, but the amount of stupid, flirty girls he couldn’t stand had made him quit before he lost his mind. I’d never had any girl look at me twice, which I took to be a very good sign. But Paul’s looks were something to be dreamed about in your utmost weirdest and nearing girly thoughts. Wings thought I had a piece of those? That was a compliment – but if I accepted, what would happen?

George opened the door for me. His hair was wet with water, and soap covered his face. “So, I heard you’ve gots a girlfriend.”

I ignored him, but Peter had caught on to what George said. He whooped, then yelled “Little Vince has got a girlfriend!”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” Leddie laughed. My face turned red, and I rapidly tried to control my emotions. This was not the behavior of any of the Bishops subjects, and definitely not the Mass’s either.

I rushed away to my room, still struggling to be indifferent. I hesitated before opening the door, my unnatural sixth sense feeling something my conscious mind had not. I opened the door, ready for anything.

A hand came out from behind the door, grabbing my face and banging my head against the doorframe. I struggled to stay conscious, the hours of training at the Bishop’s school kicking in after their long dormant sleep. Immediately, I dropped to the ground, rushing through the steps of kicking the legs of my opponent – who cares who it was – and getting back up. But he was ready for that, pining me to the ground the moment I dropped. The move was a simple one, but it was hardly protective and once caught, hard to get out of. But I knew how. Spitting where I hoped a face was, I struggled until the hand on the throat came free. In a flash, I was standing on my bed, ready to jump on the recovering attacker.

It was only once I’d pinned him down, I realized it was Paul. He gave me a curt nod, blood and my saliva dripping down his face.

“Good move there.” He said. “But I was ready for the drop. It’s too dangerous with trained men.”

I nodded and released my hold on his neck - slowly. Paul didn’t make a move to continue the fight, so I let him up.

“Don’t let this go to your head. I was being easy on you kid, you’ve still got much to learn. Watch me and Frank practice sometime, there’s new moves in the higher levels.”

Even though they knew why I had never advanced and understood, maybe even admired my thinking, everyone knew I was a weaker fighter. I have Paul a nod and he turned to leave. Then he turned back. “Don’t ever let girls get in your way. I won’t let them in our way.”

He left, and I sat down to think. I didn’t want Wings to get hurt – sure, she was annoying and a little too inquisitive for me, but she was also the beginnings of a friend, something I didn’t know anything about, much less had ever had. But what about Paul? I doubted he’d never met someone like Wings, someone you could be a true friend with, if you let yourself. Paul would never let himself. Had I? Was I already too far gone to save myself?

And if I was, what would happen?

S a r a h