Book- Two Worlds Collide

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Hey, so I like, decided to actually finish writing this book.

I'll post the whole first chapter now, since most everyone has already read most of them. Please don't make a story that basically copying mine only with different names or something. I really do want to end of publishing this book, so PLEASE do NOT copy it!

That said, enjoy!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Chapter 1 (this is a long one, the whole first chapter

)


My eyes snapped open. I sat slowly up in bed. The room was dark and silent, but for the muffled voices coming from the living room. I eased out of bed and into my black converse. I stepped silently to the door and slid through it. The fuzzy bottom of my shoes slid softly along the tiled kitchen floor. I met the door with an outstretched hand, careful not to make a sound. I placed an ear against the door.

"Roger, you are drunk again!" the distinctive voice of his mother yelled.
"So what if I am?" returned the voice of his dad, Roger.

I sucked in a sharp breath. Not again, I thought.

"You said you wouldn't do it again" she answered in a pleading voice.

I pulled the kitchen door open an inch to watch.

"Come on, Diane" he replied. He reached for her arm with one hand, a half-full bottle of beer in the other. She pulled back.
"What about the kids? What about me?" she asked, tears forming in her eyes.
He frowned. "What about them?" he asked.
Her face was filled with hurt. "You promised" she whispered.
"I'm sorry" he answered, furrowing his brow.
"Are you really?" she asked, her voice was filled with something between pain and fury.
"Course" he muttered gruffly.
He leaned on the chair and took a big swallow from the bottle of budlight.
"No you're not!" she yelled. Before he had a chance to reply she yelled "You don't care about me, about your family, if you did you would never drink again!" She began to sob, tears streaming down her cheeks.
He took another long drink of beer. "Come here" he said, stumbling unsteadily towards her.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled.
"Don't you talk to me like that woman!" he yelled back.

He reached forward and grabbed her arm. She screamed and jerked back, tripping over a shoe in the floor. He didn't let go but jerked her to her feet. She dug her fingernails into his arm and he let go with a yelp. She backs towards the door. Roger stumbled drunkenly to a side table. He leaned on it and took another sip from his bottle. He pulled open a hidden drawer and lifted out a pistol.

I burst from the kitchen and tackled him. He grunted in surprise. I knocked him over the side table. It all happened so fast. First a gunshot, then a scream, then dead silence. I shoved Roger away and stood up. The side table was split in two and a glass lamp from somewhere lay shattered in the floor. Roger was moaning softly. I tripped over that same shoe that mom had tripped over. I picked myself up to find my mom, crumpled up on the floor. Blood was flowing freely from her side, forever staining our white carpet, a permanent reminder.

"Mom" I asked.
"Mom" I said louder.
"Mom!" I yelled.
She didn't move. I stumbled in a daze to the kitchen and grabbed a phone off of the counter. I dialed 911.
"Hello, what is your emergency?" asked a female voice on the other end.
"He . . ." I trailed off.
"Sir? Sir are you there?" the voice asked when I didn't answer.
"Yeah" I responded.
"Sir what is your emergency?" she asked again.
"I, I think she's, dead" I answered shakily, my mouth dry, stomach churning.
After that I gave my address, name, and number like a robot.
"Police are on their way" she said.
I hung up. My hands and feet felt like bricks. I dropped the phone on the floor, not caring if it broke or not. I made my way back to the living room.

Roger was bent over mom. "Diane" he mumbled
"Diane, please" he asked. His shirt was soaking wet with tears.
I walked past him as if I was a mummy.
"Shane" he said. "I'm sorry, son, it was an accident".
I kept walking.
"Shane!" he called.
I turned on him. "Son? I'm not your son anymore" I said, my voice filled with cold fury.
I ran out the door and slammed it shut behind me. I leaned back against the side of the house and slowly slid down to the concrete. The backs of my eyes burned with unshed tears.
I willed the tears to come, but they would not. For once in my life I wanted to cry like a baby and have my mom wrap her arms around me and tell me it was gonna be okay.

Distant sirens aroused me from my thoughts. Three police cars sped down the road and swerved into the driveway. A cop jumped out and ran over to me. I could hear an ambulance on its way.
"Son is there an armed person or persons inside?" he asked
"Yeah" I responded dully.
"What are they armed with?" he questioned.
"A bottle" I answered.
He picked up his walkie talkie to tell the others when it dawned on him.
"What did you say?" he asked frowning.
"I said he's armed with a bottle" I replied.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It means he's drunk!" I yelled, ticked at him.

He ran back to the others and spoke quietly with them for a while. Three of them ran into the house, fully armed. I set my forehead on my knees and waited. An ambulance pulled into the front yard as there was no more room for them in the driveway. Five people in white uniforms stood outside of the door. A man walked over to me.
"Son, are you hurt?" he asked.
"No" I replied.
He patted my shoulder and walked back to the others. Another medic rolled a stretcher up to the door. Two cops came out with Roger between them. Tears were pouring down his face. I was surprised they hadn't handcuffed him. The other cop came out and gave the medics the go-ahead. They went inside. For a long while they didn't come back out. When they did, mom was lying on a stretcher, blood seeping slowly through the gauze and onto her shirt. Her face was pale and drawn. I froze at the sight of her. What now? I wondered.
"Kid, hey kid, kid!" a voice broke into my thoughts.
"What?" I asked.
"Come on" the cop I had talked to earlier urged.
I got up and followed him. I got into the passenger side of a police car. All the way to the hospital I was silent. I tried to think and respond to his questions, but my brain was all fuzzy. When we got to the hospital, the cop got out and stood there.

"Well, you coming?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah" I said, getting out.
I followed him inside. A nurse walked over to him and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and turned to me.
"Sit over there" he said, gesturing to some chairs.
I walked over and sat down in one of them. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead on my knees. I slowly drifted into terror-filled sleep.

I was standing in the living room. Mom was there, watching me. Roger was facing mom, pistol held ready to shoot. "No!"I yelled. Roger turned on me and pointed the pistol at my heart. "Ready to die?" he asked wickedly. "No!" I screamed. Everything went black and I heard the sound of a gunshot and a horrible scream, then deathly silence.

I opened my eyes to three nurses standing over me with their hands on their hips, sitting in the floor next to my broken chair.
"Oops, sorry" I mumbled, rising and dusting off my jeans.
I grabbed another chair and curled up in it. A few hours later, a nurse walked into the room. I had dozed off. She placed and hand on my shoulder and shook me lightly.
"What?" I asked, opening my eyes.
"Shane, I am afraid that, your mother has passed away" the nurse replied sadly.
"No, no, no!" I yelled.
No, she can't be dead, she can't! I thought.
The nurse laid a hand on my shoulder in comfort.
"Don't touch me" I said, pulling back.
"Your father will be here soon to get you" she said.
"Father? He doesn't deserve to be my father" I muttered.
She disappeared down the hallway. I was alone. Again, the tears would not come. I wanted to cry.

I wish this were just a dream I thought; only it wasn't. What am I gonna do? I won't, I can't live with him.
I knew I couldn't just go back home and live life like nothing had happened, especially not with Roger. He's my real father, but he will never be a father to me, even if he tried. Now, because of him, mom will never be able to comfort me again. She will never defend me from Roger like the time I brought home a zero on my Science test, he yelled at me and she slapped him and gave me a hug. Never again will she tell me I'm not a failure and that I do have something to live for, her, when I was ready to kill myself.

It would be so easy I thought. No, don't do it, for Mom.

"Shane" a voice shook me from my thoughts.
I looked up to see, Roger.
"Come, on, let's go" he urged.
I pressed my lips together tightly together and followed him to the car. I got in, trying my best not to make eye contact with him.
"You will need to make up the school you missed" Roger commented.
I just looked at him.
"Summer break started two weeks ago" I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
How could he miss so much? I wondered.
"Oh, okay" he answered, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. My heart pounded. What if it was my fault? What if she hadn't died if I hadn't pushed Roger? I wondered. The words ‘What if?’ echoed repeatedly in my head. We pulled into the driveway. I practically fell out of the car and ran into the house. I came to a dead stop in front of a large red stain in the middle of our white carpet. My eyes burned and my throat felt tight. I hurried away from it and into my room. Take the back door next time I thought. This house would never be the same without her; I would never be the same without her. A plan slowly formed in my mind as I lay sprawled out on my bed. I sat on my bed, turning my plan over in my mind. Tonight, it has to be tonight, I thought.

"Shane, dinner is ready!" Roger called a little later.

I didn't move.Why would I want to have dinner with you? I thought bitterly. He didn't call me again. A few hours later I checked my watch, it was almost midnight. Carefully, so as not to make any noise, I grabbed an old green backpack from my closet and began to fill it with things. I stuffed in my tooth brush, tooth paste, an extra pair of sneakers, my favorite hoodie, three pairs of jeans, and four t-shirts. I looked over it all to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. Food, I thought. How could I forget food? I slid softly into the kitchen and raided the cabinets. I stuffed five ice-cold water bottles into my bag along with some goldfish, a small bag of pretzels, a half-full package of mini Ritz cheese crackers, and a full case of Pringles. I stepped as lightly as possible to the back door, to avoid the reminder on our carpet. I eased open the door and slipped outside, bringing it slowly back into place with a small soft click.

"What are you doing?" a voice from behind me asked.
I spun around to see, Roger. My fists clenched and I tensed up, ready to run if he made a grab for me.
"Leaving” I replied shortly.
"Shane" he said.
"What?" I snapped.
"Don't you talk to me like that" he said, a little angry.
"And just why shouldn't I?" I asked, angry myself.
"Young man, get back inside this instance" he commanded, his voice rising in anger.
"No!" I yelled.

He made a grab for me, but I turned and ran, ran toward distant mountains I could barely make out in the dark of the moon-less night. My feet pounded the ground, fists pumping.

"Shane!" Roger called.
"Shane, come back, please!" he called.

I just shook my head and continued to run; Roger could never catch me with that wine-belly of his. I stared towards those mountains. I slowly neared them. It seemed like forever before I met the first tree, leaving behind the trimmed lawns of the city. I stepped into the shadows of a forest at the base of the mountain and slowly made my way through the dark, beginning my journey over those towering mountains. I knew there was a thousand acre ranch on the other side. Maybe I can hide out there or something, I thought. I trudged past trees, rocks, and some more trees. The sky slowly began to grow to a dim gray, fading to a light pink color just visible through the treetops. How far have I come?, I wondered. Time seemed to creep along, one hour seemed like three, one minute seemed like five.

"Great" I muttered.
"I forgot my stupid watch, how smart of me" I grumbled to myself.
I suddenly tripped on a tree root and fell flat on my face.
"Ouch" I muttered.

I stood up and dusted myself off. My once-black clothes were now a shade of dusty brown. My hair was sticking to my sweaty forehead now as it grew hotter. I stopped and sat down for a rest.

"If only the guys could see me right now, they would laugh themselves silly" I said, thinking of the gang I had been in.

Thinking of the gang made me remember my knife. I pulled off my backpack and rummaged through it. No knife. I sighed and stuck my fingers down in my back pocket as a last resort.

"Yes!" I said and pulled out my knife.

I tried my best to always have my knife with me, but I'm notorious for forgetting things. I got up and started on. The sun was now directly over-head. I wiped my forehead on my arm, boy was I tired! It was soon afternoon and I felt like I had been walking up this mountain for years. It began to grow dark and I stopped and huddled down beside a tree for the night. When I awoke, the sun was already high in the sky. I rubbed my eyes and opened my pack. I drank half of a lukewarm bottle of water and three-fourths a bag of pretzels. I got up and began my ascent again. The shadows soon grew long and I was having a hard time seeing where I was going. This particular stretch of forest was giving me the creeps and I did NOT want to sleep here. As I lifted my foot to step over a rock, it was caught on another darned tree root. I tripped and landed hard, my head meeting a rock embedded in the forest floor.

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

BTW, they won't all be this long.

 

[Fierlin1182]

This is a very good story. Keep it going! I wish I had writing skills.

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

ray's two cents :

This is a very good story. Keep it going! I wish I had writing skills.

Weren't you writing a book a while back?​

 

[Fierlin1182]

Quote:
Weren't you writing a book a while back?

Oh yeah, but nobody really liked it.

I think yours is a good idea! Captivating plot keeps everyone interested.

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

The other day one of my friends asked me "How do you come up with this stuff?!?". I live with both of my parents, out in the country, and they don't drink or fight.

My family doesn't even own a single gun, just the other day my mom bought a BBpistol for hunting dogs that get too close to our chickens, and that's it.

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

ray's two cents :

Quote:
Weren't you writing a book a while back?

Oh yeah, but nobody really liked it.

I think yours is a good idea! Captivating plot keeps everyone interested.

I liked it!

Thanks.

Hopefully, it doesn't get closed. I'm not even going to attempt to re-do that other story.

 

[crazyaboutchickens]

I've been waited for this to reappear.

No offense to other writers on BYC, but, IMO, novels on people are much better than those about animals, which we have plenty of around here.

Anyway, please keep on writing this fantastic story, you're doing great!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Quote:
Thanks! XD