The Fair: Chapter 1

 A/N: Hey guys! This is a story I’ve been working on for the last few months. My friend has been helping me out and I’m going to start releasing the chapters on here. I’m legit so excited to post this though!

The place was completely abandoned. The lights were flickering. Except for the occasional movement on the ferris wheel, everything was dead still.

 

I sat on one of the horses on the carousel and looked around. The sun was setting, making the sky change from the bright blues of the day, to the darker hues of the night. The sky was a portrait of oranges, reds, and blacks, all melting into each other like a wet canvas. The ferris wheel was covered in paint that had started to fade and chip long ago, the fence surrounding it had almost given up to the rust. There was a photobooth a few metres away from where I was sitting, looking like any stereotypical photo booth would. Quite close by to it was a series of large tents entitled the ‘Fun House’, the ‘Haunted House’, ‘Freak Show’ and the ‘Hall of Mirrors’.

 

I had my sketchbook on my lap. My pencil was poised on the paper, but I couldn’t draw anything. I tried every once and awhile, but the colours and the scene just didn’t translate well onto paper.

 

A few moments passed and I was struck by an idea. I hopped off the plastic horse and climbed on top of it. I grabbed the carousel pole to support me as I lifted myself onto the red roof of the attraction. It was big enough and strong enough to support my body. It was a bit smaller than I had hoped, and my legs dangled off the edge as I lied on my back. I kicked my shoes off for comfort and I began to sketch the sky.

 

I kept sketching until the dark blues of the afternoon turned into a twinkling glitter of stars on a background of pitch black. I realised then that I should probably be heading home so I climbed back down to the carousels horses and put my shoes back on. I tucked my sketchbook under my arm and my pencil in the back pocket of my jeans. I trudged back down the lane, my black Converse hitting the ground in monotone thuds.

 

As I neared my house, I stopped to dissect it. It was a pretty big house, with a stained white wood front porch and my dad’s rocking chair gently rocking on it. I could still see the paintings of vines crawling up the handle on the steps to our porch. The house itself was made of brick, and you could see the window of my parents’ bedroom and my oldest sister. My bedroom and my younger twin brothers were at the back of the house.

 

As I walked up the steps, taking two steps at a time, I could hear the voices within the house. I think dinner had just begun because I could still hear my mum hollering up the steps to call my sister.

 

I opened the front door and closed it with a click. I could see my sister sliding down the banister in the world’s shortest skirt. I could almost hear the disapproving frown from my mum. I pecked my mum on the cheek and I told her I’ll just quickly change. As I walked up the stairs to my room I could see my brothers packing away their trains in the toy basket with my dad in the living room.

 

When I got to my room, I locked the door and relieved myself from my hijab,  throwing it into my laundry basket and putting the pin on my desk. I grabbed my black shorts and shirt and slipped into the adjoining bathroom that I share with my brothers. I took the remainder of my clothes off and slipped on my shirt and shorts. I quickly exited my room and went downstairs for dinner.

 

As I entered the dining room and I could see that dinner already started. My sister Nisa and my mum were already going at. The usual argument.

 

Mum: Nisa! Where are you going wearing those clothes?

 

Nisa: I’m going to Ava’s house

 

I sighed, Ava and Nisa have been friends since they were 3. Who knows what they get up to.

 

Mum: (suspiciously) There won’t be any (cough) males there, right?

 

Nisa: (shouting) No! Why can’t you just trust me!

 

Mum: I do trust you!

 

Nisa: (annoyed) Yeah right…

 

Mum: Don’t dare talk to me like I’m just a bee buzzing around you! I am your MOTHER!

 

And so on, so forth.

They only began to calm down when my dad started our prayer before eating. We all quieted down and I moved my lips silently as I said my prayer. Once we finished prayer, we began to actually eat our dinner.

 

The food was a symphony of spices, meat and rice. My mum had made lamb kebabs with Greek Yoghurt and steamed rice. I never really liked lamb so I didn’t eat as much as everyone else. Dinner was topped of with homemade apple pie and homemade vanilla ice cream. The apple pie was a perfect mixture of sweet and bitter. The wintry ice cream battled the warmth of the apple pie in perfect swordplay.

 

By the time I was clearing away the plates, my parents were already going to tuck my brothers to bed and my sister had already slipped into her room so I was all alone in the kitchen. As I was placing the dishes into the wash I stopped to stare at the fridge. It was covered with my sister’s report cards (she always got A’s and A+’s), my art, and a few photographs featuring my brothers. I was staring at one of my artworks, imagining what I could do to make it better, when I heard a sudden crash from upstairs.

 

I rushed up the steps, thinking the worse, and it was the worse. I could see my brothers fast asleep, but I could also see my sister’s horrified face. I looked at her frantically “Nisa, what the hell had just happened?” She replied in a trembling voice “I don’t know! I think somebody has taken our parents.”

 

As she spoke my head began to swirl with fears and regrets. Why didn’t I say I love you at dinner? They might never get to see their children grow up; at least not past the age of 18, 14 and 5. I weakly asked my sister “Who took them?”

She stuttered, trying to recall what happened, “I was doing my maths homework and I, uh, I suddenly heard a crash coming from Mum and Dad’s room. I rushed over a-and saw somebody grabbing our parent’s through the window and escaping.”

 

It was at this point where I just couldn’t hold on anymore. The floor was swerving and rippling under my feet, my vision started to dim. Then it all went back.

 

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Ramble Session #1

So I’ve decided to do a ramble session. I’m literally only going to write whatever comes to my mind and this’ll be like having a conversation with me! Yay.

Gosh, I’m sarcastic.

And hungry.

But I already finished all the chips, so I have to wait until I deem it acceptable to have lunch. Which is in an hour.

You know, outside of the internet, I have friends, though a majority of them don’t live where I live and there’s no way I’m paying a ticket to fly to their places. That’s what video calls on Hangouts are for!

Speaking of, I’m that one friend that refuses to have any form of social media other that Google+. How sad am I?!

Anyway, as I was saying, my friends in the real world and live near me, I don’t if I should count as friends. Their more like, I dunno, people that I spend the day with, and kind of like, but past that, I do NOTHING with them. The rest of them go and hangout together and I’m just like “Can I come?” and they sort of look and me and go “Naaahhhh…”

But it’s fine! I have you guys (which I still don’t get, I mean, people like to hear jabber on about stuff!?) the Goodreads community, and this one friend I’ve been messaging for the last 5 hours that should be awake by now and isn’t responding to any of my messages and we were supposed to have a video call today.

I’m trying to find a wordcount on here, but I can’t find it. Maybe there isn’t a wordcount on WordPress…?

 

Well anyways, thanks for listening (or technically reading!) my ramble. I hope you enjoyed it!

 

Sag Scholar

 

Word Challenge – THIRST

THIRST

Every year, hundreds of people go without water and/or food. And yet, I still find people that throw their own food away in the trash.

“Why?” I ask them.

“Because I didn’t like it.” they answer.

“I don’t like vegetables.” they answer.

“I’m not hungry.” they answer.

Just because you don’t like something, or if you’re just not HUNGRY ENOUGH to eat, it DOES NOT mean you have to throw away your food into the trash. Instead save it in your bag, because who knows! Maybe you suddenly get hungry and want to eat your food. Maybe you find someone that will appreciate it more than you.


Don’t leave your cup half empty, letting it sit there for days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days and days until you have to pour it down the drain. Never take a cup of juice or cordial and not finish it.

Never take more than you can drink. Never take more than you can eat.


 

BE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE. BECAUSE WE ONLY REALISE HOW GREAT SOMETHING IS WHEN IT’S ABOUT TO LEAVE US.

REMEMBER THIS.


 

Okay. Wow. I’m exhausted. And thirsty.

I wrote this out on my blog post page, so I hope that doesn’t disqualify me. :\

So no one actually nominated me to do this (because I don’t have blogger friends), but I still decided to do this challenge (I NOMINATED MYSELF!). So without further ado I nominate these five people to do this challenge.

  1. J. A. Allen
  2. Elan Mudrow
  3. Meg (from Meg’s Magical Musings)
  4. Kent Wayne
  5. Allan G Smorra

Rules:

1) open an ms word document (or any other editor).
2) set a stop watch or a mobile for 5-10 minutes.
3) your topic is at the foot of this post.
DO NOT SCROLL DOWN TO SEE IT UNTIL YOU ARE READY WITH A TIMER
4) fill the word document with as much wordage as you want, once you start writing, don’t stop.
5) DO NOT cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check (this is only meant for you to reflect on your control over sensible thought flow).
6) you may or may not pay attention to punctuation and capitals.
7) at the end of your post write down the number of words.
8) do not forget to copy and paste the entire passage to your blog post with a new topic.

(I honestly just copy-pasted the rules from the blog, The Brokedown Pamphlet because I think they explained the rules very well.)

YOUR TOPIC:

IMPOSSIBLE


Thank you for listening (or technically reading) this blog post and I hope you have a wonderful day, night and anything in between!

SAG SCHOLAR