Hey, for more slick watersports, check out my eleven-year-old brother Landon's sweet wakeboarding jump! (Which I still have not mastered.)
Also, my friend Alex was up here for a few days, so I was too busy shootin vids and tubing and skiing to write anything. But now I am free, so expect more CLARABELLE posts coming soon!!!
Ya see, my dad knows this guy (Hubert) and they were talking, and it turns out he owns an airplane, a Cessna something-or-other. Hubert offered to take us for a ride!! It's a pontoon plane. We could see him ride over the lake (he lives in Meota, across Jackfish lake, kinda eastish of our beach) and he landed the plane in the water and pulled up to our beach. Mom, me, and my littlest bro went first. We had to wear these big earphones with speakers, cuz once the plane was on, the motor roared so loud the only way to hear each other speak was the speakers. Lift off was SO AMAZING! If anyone has the chance, I strongly advise you take off in a small plane off the water, rising 300 meters in the air, seeing the yellow canola and green waving fields spread like a patchwork quilt. Gazing in awe at the two lakes, Jackfish and Murray. Watching the teeny tiny little boats zoom around, while we flew easily so much faster than them. Once, to tease us, the pilot swooped down, steeply, and I felt my stomach drop through my knees, so it seemed. It freaked Mom and I both, while Carson just laughed at us. The landing? Well, we were told to shut up so he could concentrate. It was quite smooth, actually, just a bump when we hit the water, and I was sad to finish it. But wow-the experience of a lifetime.
“These are their swings,” Gwen explained, “and this is their toy thingie, they call it the ‘Big Toy’, it has slides and bridges and stuff. Then this is the hopscotch area, and this is their field.” She pointed to each playground section as she gave it an explanation. “This, over here, is the older kids’ end,” Gwen began again. “Soccer field, benches, swings, basketball court. Then we have a toy too, we call it the ‘Blue Toy’, but no one really plays on it, mostly girls gossip on it. Sometimes the boys start a game of ball tag.” She stopped to take a breath, and realized that was the whole schoolyard. “Then there’s, um, well, I guess that’s it,” She finished lamely. She looked down at her bitten nails, tapping them against her leg. Clarabelle nodded slowly, absorbing it all. She glanced at the Blue Toy.
“Looks like they’re playing ball tag right now,” She said, pointing. Gwen shaded her eyes from the weak sunlight. “Yep,” She agreed. She rolled her eyes. “It’s the same thing with ball tag-boys are it, they tag the girls they like, the girls complain about how hard they throw it, so they throw it harder. It’s so dumb.” She exhaled loudly in exasperation. Clarabelle watched the game with amusement.
“Let’s go!” She cried suddenly, running over. Gwen’s mouth fell open.
“Jeez! Does she like getting hit hard with a dodgeball?” She muttered as she jogged over to join the shrieking crowd. It was exactly as she had predicted, the boys hurling the colorful foam balls with all their might at their crushes. The girls would cry out and pretend to be hurt, so the boys would remain it until they caught someone of their own gender. Why ANYONE would want to play was a mystery. When the boys saw the lovely but intimidating girl joining the fray, they switched targets. “Hey, that’s the new girl!” They would holler, pitching the ball with all their strength. Clarabelle easily weaved through. “Aw, man!” and “I had her!” and “What the-?” were the confused shouts when she dodged.
“I’ll get her!” Kody Anderson bellowed. He swaggered up to Joe, who was still it, who tossed it over. Kody glared at Clarabelle. Clarabelle simply smirked. By this time it was silent.
Kody smacked the ball into his hands a few times, the hollow ringing slap against his hands the only sound. Gwen cringed. Kody was the best looking, most athletic, meanest kid in seventh grade. He would hit Clarabelle for sure, probably hurting her to the point of tears. How embarrassing. Clarabelle didn’t look nervous, however. She stared coolly at the confident boy. He glared back. Everyone gaped at the pair. Gwen was nearly trembling. Suddenly, Kody drew back his arm. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Suddenly, Kody’s arm thrust forward. SLAP! Everyone gasped. Clarabelle was holding the ball an inch from her face, apparently unruffled. Clarabelle tossed it casually back. The force knocked Kody off his feet, but no one dared laugh. Gwen clapped a hand to her mouth to keep her giggles inside. Clarabelle jumped off the Blue Toy, landing lightly on her feet. She strode over to Kody, spitting out sand. “Nice try.”
Clarabelle’s words broke the tension. Everyone started howling. Gwen was doubled over, hooting. The girls were all hysterically laughing. Even Kody’s close friends snickered. Kody walked away, shoulders up to his ears, which were cherry red. Clarabelle sauntered over to where Gwen was still chuckling. “Okay, drama’s over, let’s go,” She said in an undertone. Gwen got some control over her giggles and gasped, “Oh, God, Clarabelle, that was historical! Hysterical! Kody sure as heck won’t bother girls anymore!”
“Okay, okay!” Clarabelle said, closing the subject, but Gwen could see the faint smile of triumph shining through.
She skipped breakfast-her stomach was already full of nerves. Why? She asked herself. So she was watching you. She needed to get the routine down pat. It was her first day, after all. Yes, that made sense. Gwen felt a bit better. She was good at lying to herself. Or maybe, she added, she was copying your work. Um…no. Gwen dodged that one. Though she didn’t technically know her new classmate’s name, she could somehow just tell that Clarabelle would have no problems with their work. So Gwen went back to the other maybes. She didn’t know how class went…she can’t help her eye color…intimidating? She was just nervous. Pointy teeth? Gwen considered that one. No answer. She decided to just believe the nervous-new-girl fabrication.
So, with Gwen convincing herself that her new classmate’s odd behavior the previous week had been naught but anxiety at a new school. So, it was easy, when she walked into the room, to calmly take out her homework and arrange it carefully on her desk. It was easy to chat cheerfully to the few others in the classroom-she had woken early this morning, and made it to school twenty minutes before the first bell rang. It was hard, however, not to turn in to the door when Clarabelle arrived at school. Gwen surveyed her somewhat suspiciously, to see if her hunch had been correct. Clarabelle just smiled vaguely at Gwen, not the cold sneer it had been three days ago, just a small smile hovering on her full lips. Gwen smiled back, tentatively, relieved. Clarabelle did not look the Gwen remembered. Instead of snowy, her skin was just pale with a pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were still a glittery violet, but did not hold the threatening, stony glare any longer. Her eyes were now like friendly gemstones, a kindly amethyst gaze. The bell rang suddenly, and made Gwen jump. She hastily brought the conversation she was having with a girl named Emily to a close, and straightened her desk. She heard Clarabelle sit in her desk. She turned her head slightly, and met her stare. “Hi,” Gwen said shyly.
“Hi,” Clarabelle returned with a warm smile. Gwen smiled, too. It was impossible not to. Clarabelle opened her mouth to say more, but Mrs. Stanette walked in just then. Clarabelle paused, then pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and began scribbling. Mrs. Stanette began the math lesson by telling them to take out their weekend’s homework. Gwen obliged, though Clarabelle’s pen still darted across the page. Mrs. Stanette began going over their work. “Now…answer for number one…Sam?” Gwen pulled out her red pen and began making small checks and crosses. By number six, Mrs. Stanette got to Gwen. “Number seven, miss Johansson?” Gwen mumbled an answer.
“Pardon me, Gwen? Speak up, please.” Gwen spoke up in a slightly louder voice.
“Um…number six…seven hundred thirty-two decimal twelve?” She looked sideways at Clarabelle, a tiny smile hovering on her face.
“Correct. Clarabelle, number seven?” Clarabelle stayed bent over her note, sketching something now.
“Clarabelle?” Mrs. Stanette asked again, sounding impatient. Gwen nudged Clarabelle with her foot.
“Six hundred forty-seven decimal thirteen,” She answered without looking up. She looked up with a pompous expression. Mrs. Stanette knitted her eyebrows in confusion. Was this girl a rebel or a teacher’s pet? Gwen could read on Mrs. Stanette’s face. Clarabelle smiled angelically, and Mrs. Stanette shook herself a bit and moved on to Joseph with number eight. Gwen looked at Clarabelle in a mixture of amazement and perplexity. Clarabelle grinned, a grin that looked like a child getting away with something he shouldn’t. Gwen grinned back. Clarabelle slipped the note under Gwen’s hand.
Gwen, right? I’m Clarabelle, as you probably know.
Anyways, I’m curious about you. Do you live around
here? Do you like it? Have any family members? Sorry
to be so nosy, but I just love other people’s lives. I have
two parents and an adopted brother, Ben. Do you want to
hang out at recess? Show me around? Please?
Gwen read the note under her desk, in case Mrs. Stanette was watching. She stuffed it into her desk when she was done, then caught Clarabelle’s eager, amethyst eyes. She nodded. Clarabelle grinned, not the small, pleasant kind, but a big, happy grin that was like the rising sun. Gwen grinned back, happily. She noted, in her mind, that her imagination must have been more off than she thought. Clarabelle’s teeth were not pointy in the least.
Gwen walked quickly in through her door, the familiar kitchen wallpaper calming her pulse a little. She sucked in a deep breath, unsure why she was so tense. Maybe it was the crawling hairs on the back of her neck, the whole way home, feeling like their were many pairs of eyes on her.
She took her books out of her backpack and set them on her desk, then switched on her sluggish computer. She decided to get a snack while it loaded up. She was rummaging around in her fridge when she sensed someone behind her. She froze, then whirled around and cracked the back of her head on the freezer handle.
“Ow!” She complained, gingerly touching the blooming bruise. She then noticed the “suspicious figure” was only her mother, Charmaine. “Oh, hi, Mom!” She added brightly, in a very different tone.
“Hi, honey,” Charmaine said slowly, her hair in a supercurly disarray around her amused face. “How was your day?” She asked, taking in Gwen’s jumpy behavior with raised eyebrows.
“Okay,” Gwen lied. Charmaine didn’t buy it.
“How ‘bout you? You okay?”
“Er, yeah!” Gwen chirped, lying through her teeth. “I’m fine! Great! I’m-“ Gwen’s sentence trailed off. Charmaine knew by her face she was not fine.
“What’s wrong, Gwen?” She asked, worried. Gwen bit her lip, wondering how to phrase it.
“We-my class-got an new girl this afternoon,” She offered half-heartedly.
Charmaines’ expression brightened.
“Well, that’s great, honey!” She exclaimed. Then, surveying Gwen’s expression, she paused. “Is it?”
Gwen shrugged. “I-I guess,” She said softly. “Clarabelle, her name is…” She trailed off.
Charmaine’s eyebrows drew together.
“Gwen, did she do something to you?” Charmaine asked, truly concerned now.
“Well, no, not really,” Gwen admitted. Charmaine’s expression cleared.
“Well, then, what’s bothering you, then?” Gwen fidgeted, uncomfortable.
“Well, I dunno, it’s just…she’s just…a bit…different.” Gwen decided. Charmaine’s kind face grew puzzled.
“What’s so bad about this Clarabelle, Gwen? What?” Gwen looked her mother in the eye.
“She’s not like most thirteen-year-olds. She’s different than us. Intimidating, somehow. Clarabelle is not your average girl.”
Silken petals curl
Framing the crumbly middle
In vibrant colors
Parched, yellowing grass
Merciless, blistering sun
Warm, sun-baked pavement
The silver sliver
Comes to a rest behind the hills
The suns' heat fading
Leaving the dark velvet grass
Bathed in a blue, dusky glow
Like a hot, damp quilt
The air presses down
The oddly silent shoreline
Silencing even the birdcalls.
The pale blue sky
Fades of colour
The fluffy white puffs
Thicken and clot
The glittering turquoise jewel,
Drains of brilliance-
Now a dull gray stone.
The clouds begin to weep
Dimpling the stone
The clouds grow angry,
Turns to black
Churn, swirl, then part
Jabbing a white-hot sword
Into the stone
The stone shatters
Into a thousand choppy waves
Who race for shore,
And crash onto the rocks,
Worn to salty foam.
From the heavens
Scolds the lightning
In a rumbly roar
Throughout the inky
The sword splinters,
The thunder grows hoarse,
The last few waves
And trip onto the pebbles
The clouds sigh
And continue on
And the birds
Here they are. Don't expect much, but enjoy!
1. MIRIAM'S ISLE
A mermaid named Miria lives in distant island water and feels lost. When a shipload of strange men arrive, she falls in love with the captain, Tom. Torn between loyalty to her father and love for Tom, she becomes detached from her family. At last she chooses love. The two try to escape, but far from her life-giving water, she begins to die. Her father meets her with Tom, and the water falls from the sky reviving her. The two men realize how much they BOTH love Miria.
Enzo lives a tough life with a workaholic mom, alchoholic dad, and dying little sister Elizabeth. His plea for a miracle is granted when he pulls a mermaid out of the weeds: a mermaid with incredible healing powers. He tries to use her to cure Elizabeth, but when the mermaid Kathryn discovers he was using her, she draws back her power. Elizabeth grows worse and worse, but Kathryn comes back at the last minute to try and cure Elizabeth, but Mother Nature claims her. Enzo learns that sometimes that's the way it works.
A young girl named Gwen learns the inhuman truth about her new classmate Clarabelle and her immortal family. The girls nevertheless strike up a deep friendship not even bloodlust and instinct can break.
4. THE VIOLET STAR
Zenabelle sneaks aboard a future space flight to ride to a new planet choked with aliens.
This is Clarabelle Chapter 1, but I updated it to make the writing more MINE and not Stephenie Meyer's. Let me know if you like it! Don't be afraid to post a comment!
Gwen sat in her scarred desk, laboriously scrawling math problems across her notebook. She scowled at the taunting pages of her textbook, bright and perky, cheerfully promising at least two hours of homework tonight. She sighed, and put down her pencil, feeling like she was dropping a lead brick. Gwen’s brown eyes glanced at the clock on the back wall, its steady tick-tock and scratching pencils the only sound in the dreary classroom. Suddenly there was a quick knock on the door, and the bored seventh-grade class looked up hopefully, praying for any distraction. Their teacher, Mrs. Stanette, got up from her cluttered desk and opened the door. The principal stepped in.
“Hello, class, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she chirped. “The new student you were expecting has arrived early! And here she is!” She beamed like she presented them a million dollars, then stepped aside, and a tall, slender girl glided in the doorway.
The class gaped at her. Not only was this mystery student a math distraction, but she was…well, different. Gwen stared like the rest, but the girl didn’t seem to be uncomfortable by the many eyes fixed on her. She pressed her lips together and gave a tight-lipped smile. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and Gwen sighed in envy. Her waist-length hair hung shimmering in streaks of chestnut and black, so much more beautiful then Gwen’s plain, witchy black hair. But her hair contrasted with her skin, unlike Gwen’s, whose dark hair went well with her coffee-toned skin. No, this new girl’s dark hair was much unlike her bone-white complexion. Her glittering violet eyes, too, were very different. The girl stood coolly in front of the dumbstruck class. “Hello,” She said, seemingly without much interest. “My name is Clarabelle.”
The teacher greeted her warmly. “Hi, Clarabelle,” she gushed. “We are SO happy to have you here today! We even have a desk ready! It’s back there, by the girl with black hair. Her name’s Gwen.” She pointed to Gwen, who gave her a tight smile and a tiny wave. Clarabelle’s strange eyes switched from Mrs. Stanette to Gwen quicker than a hummingbird’s wings. Her eyes penetrated Gwen like she was trying to see through her. Gwen flushed and looked down quickly and pretended to work on math.
Gwen scribbled in a few answers, but stopped on number six. She tried to bully her brain into thinking. “Hi,” Came a low, hypnotic voice. Gwen jumped and twisted to look at the seat next to her. She hadn’t heard Clarabelle walk over or sit in her new desk. She must have a remarkably soft step. “Oh, h-h-hi,” Gwen stuttered. Clarabelle’s light eyes traveled over to Gwen’s messy workbook.
“The answer is 732.12,” She whispered. Gwen glanced down at her book and scratched in the row of numbers.
“Uh, thanks,” She said tentatively. “Um, how did you know that so quickly?”
“Oh, I know math,” Clarabelle said, lips curling into a smirk. She flashed her gleaming teeth at Gwen in a brief grin.
Gwen shivered. She wasn’t sure she liked this girl. She was…intimidating, somehow. Those slightly pointy eyeteeth, or perhaps that low, intense voice, or those cold eyes.