11-05-2007, 02:26 AM
<!--fonto:Arial Narrow--><span style="font-family:Arial Narrow"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:1--><span style="font-size:8pt;line-height:100%"><!--/sizeo-->So, jumping on the bandwagon, I decided to create a story. So sue me if you can't read with this font, not my problem. I don't care if you steal it, it sucks anyways. On with the story~
[Update] I did create a blog for this, considering the chapters are too long, I will be posting updated chapters here and there.
<a href="http://affib.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">http://affib.wordpress.com/</a>
<div align="center"><!--coloro:black--><span style="color:black"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:1--><span style="font-size:8pt;line-height:100%"><!--/sizeo-->I.
Nervousness, fright; such emotions are carried by many of the passengers on this boat. Many leave the remains of their complementary lunch on the floor decks or the sea. They were riled up, some eager; finally being taken to the island of Dancin' Paradise. It was an unusual island, not only because it is an island filled with only dancers, but the weather conditions undertaken in one season. There can be so much as blistering hot sand, with benevolent waves crashing upon the beach; on the other side of the island, there are steep, intimidating mountains that are covered with soft, pure white snow.
One could say they were enthusiastic to get onto such an island, looking for adventures and acquaintances. Rarely do you find such a passenger that was bored, a solemn look upon their faces. There was such a person, a young boy. He had messy black hair, a fair height of 182 centimeters and a weight of 68 kilograms. His eyes were the color of a dark amethyst; his skin, tanned lightly. His expression was that of forlorn. An emotion that would not be seen on such a trip. He sat against the cabin walls, facing the back of the boat, his chin up; eyes lingering from cloud to cloud, watching as the color slowly turns into shades of gray and black, indicating an upcoming storm.
There was no gloss in his eyes, as if he were dead. No movement was made from him, his face showed no signs of emotion. Waves came crashing upon the boat, the storm was coming through. Fierce winds pierced his skin, rain pouring onto the deck of the boat. His hair wet, clothes sticking onto his skin. Others were already making head way to the cabins, steering clear of the rain, trying not to catch a sickness. He stayed, his body trembling for the temperature. He was showing symptoms of a flu. He sneezed often, coughed loudly, and his head moved violently as if he were about to black out.
His head hit the floor; lightning starting to plunder down from the now black skies. The storm became a fury of anger, waves hit the bottom sides of the boat ferociously, causing a stir in the boat to rock violently from side to side. He was pushed from one side to another, hitting tables and seats on the deck.. His sides hit the rails, with a loud sound, causing great pain if he were ever to wake up. The storm kept getting worse, a flurry of waves reached high up onto the deck floor and crashed upon him. At this rate, he could die from the little warmth he had, a flu was already apparent. Being knocked unconscious, he was in a terrible situation.
The sound of frenzied footsteps came. A hoarse, nervous voice shouted at him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” The tone was feminine, it was from a girl that looked just slightly older than he did. She roughly grabbed his arms, struggling to pull him into the cabins.
“Dammit, you're heavy!” She grunted in frustration, pulling and scratching her hair, with a killing intent.
“Why am I even helping you?” She knew she wouldn't get an answer, but she kept on shouting.
“I swear to God, if you don't wake up, I will personally see to your death.” Rain soaked the clothes of the woman, the cloth sticking to her skin, making it uncomfortable to be in. The boat rocked harshly, pulling the woman onto the rail, losing her balance and falling on her bottom. She seethed her teeth in pain, holding on the rail for her dear life. Sea water hit her entire body, the waves were getting stronger, the wind becoming fast enough to pierce through even the toughest of hides.
The violent shocks of being pushed around did a number to her head. She was on the verge of fainting, she could conjure enough energy to even stand up. Her mind was blanking out, her body; shivering from the temperature of the water, it was as if you were diving into a pool at the middle of the night. She rested her palms upon his body, breathing deeply; coughing sea water down onto the floor. She rocked backed and forth, before her head finally hit the deck, eyes closed and trembling. Water plummeted from the sea in a ferocious manner, the boat tilted too far to one side, carrying the boy off into sea. The girl, was dangerously close to the edge, but the boat shifted suddenly to the other side from the effects of waves. Her body hitting against anything and everything that was left on the outside corridors of the boat; rest of the items being lost in the water.
The boy woke up, jumpy and confused an injurious feeling by his head. He found himself in a plain white room, the bumpy exterior of the walls, apparent. He was hooked up to wires, a tube of unknown liquid was supplying him nutrients, the rest attached to other parts of his body, it seemed to keep him alive. His legs were numb; in frustration and confusion, he unhatched the wires savagely. His clothes were changed, a dark gray shirt, bland, just like the room; white pants that were too uncomfortably tight around the hips and shoes plainly black and white were fit upon him. Opening the door, the boy stormed out of the room; nurses seeing him became shocked, they tried to stop him, he had a reaction to walk faster, ignoring their commands. Lowering his head, he walked down floors, wandering to the main lobby. Stumbling over little obstacles that would normally be avoided, he was in a rush to get out of the horrific place.
He reached the main lobby, about to step out. A doctor noticed him, a patient of his. The doctor firmly grabbed his shoulder, the boy turned around a face of distraught, looking up at the person grabbing his shoulder, the doctor made a gesture to follow, the boy nodded. A firm grip was placed on his hands, so he wouldn't run away. They walked from room to room, stopping finally at an office.
“I'm Doctor Perzupe, I see you've finally woken up.” The boy wouldn't talk, his eyes lingered up and down, examining the structure of Perzupe. He was old, around the age of his father. His hair was turning gray, his skin; dry, pale and wrinkles are abundant.
“You might be wonder how you get here.” As a response, he grunted, turning his head away, instead staring at the pictures. “We found you lying on the beaches, possibly from the storm five months ago.” He furrowed his eyebrows, in interest.
“I bet you're making this up, storm? What storm?” Perzupe's face was expressionless. “Oh, that's right. You're suffering a case of amnesia.” The boy sat quietly. “You're on the island of Dancin' Paradise, you do know what this island is, right?” He shook his head, slowly, keeping his eyes on the old man.
“Let's try and sum you up here, you're on the island of Dancin' Paradise. When you came here..” He stopped, short, took a deep breath and continued on, a tone more low. “When you came here, there was a storm, apparently you got knocked off and got washed ashore.”
The boy stared, waiting for him to proceed. “Someone took you in, a nice girl. Though, you never woke up, we almost thought of pulling the plug on you around the third month.” His expression turned into shock, of aggravation.
“What?” A vile sound came from him. “Of course, we didn't.” The doctor's voice coarse, he gave a small laugh of reassurance.
“What surprises me though, is that you're awake so suddenly.”
Perzupe pursed his lips, “And.. now onto the bad part.” He looked up, staring at Perzupe. “I thought it couldn't get worse.” His eyes turned black, “well.. you were diagnosed with a type of disease that causes your immune system to get weaker, you may have trouble breathing and may get a vast amount of pain by your abdominal areas.” He stayed silent, his body pushed back, a shaking hand rubbing the temple of his eyes. “You've had this since birth, but it only started showing until eight months ago, from your records, before you left for this island.”
A question hung at the back of his mind. “So, is it curable?” Perzupe shook his head.
“Unfortunately, it's one of those diseases where we have not found a cure for it yet. I'm sorry but, it can also lead to your death.” The boy banged his hands on the wall in frustration, causing a small tremor on the walls; he growled, as if to say 'I hate the world.' He moved forward, looking intently into Perzupe's eyes.
“So what do I do? I'm here already.” Perzupe paced around the room, his hands feeling around his head bobbing from area to area.
He stopped abruptly at a small cabinet, opening the light maple door, he took out old, musty papers. “You're here to dance. I know you won't have a place to reside in, so these are forms you can fill out to stay at the dorms in the dancing school.” Handing over the papers, Perzupe went back to the cabinet, taking out more papers, except these were crisp, clean and not as yellow from aging as the ones he was currently holding now.
“And, these are papers to register for an alias, fill them all out and go to the main center.” Perzupe clapped his hands together, rubbing the dust off his bony hands.
“The main center's just two block down from this hospital, it's huge, you won't miss it.” He shooed the boy off, pushing him gently down to the main entrance, forcing him to move.
“I wish you good luck, stop by if you're having any physical problems.” The boy mumbled incoherent words and set off to the main center.
While walking around the city, he couldn't help but notice the huge masses of people, the tall buildings set onto such an island, and the laughing, happy citizens of Dancin' Paradise. The soles of his slightly dirty shoes stopped, his eyes cast upon the tower of the main center. It was huge, it covered at least what five houses regularly structured houses could, with an abundant ten floors. The center was painted a dark shade of purple, glass aplenty at the sides and the front of the building. It scratched the skies, towering above the city. It was almost intimidating, to fall from such a height would cause instant death. He pondered intently, his thoughts unknown.
Walking closely to the silicon doors, they opened; a smell of generic offices wafted into his nose. It was a smell of new couches, an unbelievable amount of air fresheners sprayed and hot printer paper, as though they were just printed on. There was a slight commotion with the faces around him, a blur of voices rang in his ears, a deafening noise to him. He sat on the oak carved chair, filling the forms as legibly as his ability could bare him. Moments passed, noise barred down, calming him. Walking towards the main counter, a deathly pale woman took the papers from him, processing his information. Her wavy, chocolate brown hair got in the way of her sight, the ability of typing slimming. She took out a small digital camera, a slim, slick silver colored camera; the model YNK290x. A snap was heard and it took the boy by surprise, a picture was taken of him.
“Your information is done processing, your alias is now Sync.” She handed Sync his User I.D card. It contained an alarmed picture of Sync, the background was colored with a blue and there was small, narrow font that contained his personal information.
“A dorm is being set for you in the school, check by them in an hour, here's the address.” Sync nodded, walking slowly out of the office, his card in hand. A stern look on his face, he searched around the city, knowing it was too early to go to the school. Sync admired the building structures, they were all tall, his gaze not averting them. His feet took him elsewhere, to a near by basketball court.
An electronic box was set up by one end of the hoops, a hologram of a person seemingly judging their moves. Four lively beings were dancing to their hearts content, he took hold of the rails separating the dancers from Sync. His eyes watched closely. A girl stood to the front, her glossy brunette hair blowing from one side to another. She dropped to the ground, her hands on the floor and her soles not touching the ground, not moving her hands she quickly crossed her feet, from once side to another. Standing up, she went back to her spot, it was another person's turn to go to the front.
Time passed, he was fascinated; pondering how one could do such complicated arrays of dancing moves. Sync stood there, watching. His eyes widened as he noticed how much time has passed by, it's been well over an hour and he had to get going.
“Frick, late for that appointment.” Sync whispered solemnly to himself, he released his grip on the rails, running as if his feet were being carried by the wind. He reached the main center of the town, he looked at the paper with the address it was just five streets down the hospital. The school was plain, an enormous building, but plain. It was colored with fresh mocha paint, and it was made of what seemed to be stone. The entrance had an abundance of growing plants and flowers, from rose bushes to dandelion flowers. A sign,, lying on the top of the entrance contained the words. 'Audition – Dancin' Paradise school of honor. 1950 – 2075'.
Sync's feet reached inside, chills running down his spine. The halls were at a temperature below even outside, on a winter morning day. He wandered; aimlessly, the front desk was empty. The balls of his feet touched the office door of the Dean of the school, the door was painted purple, an interesting color, it didn't seem to match the rest of the school, being it colored mocha. He knocked, twice. A coarse voice answered, allowing him to come into the room. The door squeaked open, found there was an old man, his hair gray, few strands of black hair barely visible to the eyes of humans. His face was dragging, wrinkles forming on his cheeks, forehead and under his eyes. A pair of glasses embroidered his face, they were black and big, the shape was circular. Shaky hands came towards him, offering Sync to sit down.
“Hello, you may call me Veal, what are you here for, child?” His face cracked into a smile, the old grandpa was a compassionate, kind-hearted person.
Sync handed him the registration papers, he took of his glasses, looking at the papers. His smile became even bigger, he turned his seat towards the computer. Typing slowly, he pulled out information of Sync, as to what will be regulations of him staying here.
“Alright, we have you in the dorm number one hundred twenty-two, floor four.” His voice was dry, he licked his lips and swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth; beginning to talk once again, “your instructor is a Ms. Ri. You'll be attending classes every other day, rules and regulations may be found on your table in the dorm.” He turned his body, staring into Sync's dark amethyst eyes.
“Do you have any questions?” Sync's eyes lift, his expression turning into that of a day dreaming state, he was indeed thinking.
“Where may I meet my instructor?”
“She was scheduled to meet you today, but she's running late. Tomorrow you can meet her at the basketball courts, she'll teach you dancing there.” Sync stood up, pushing the chair back, signaling he was ready to leave.
“I'll be on my way, thank you.” He bowed, showing respect. Veal's eyes lighted up, it has been years since he's been shown respect, through such a little gesture. Sync walked slowly out, turning right, looking for his room. Moments of walking, he found it. Opening the door, it was revealed that his room was just like the hospital. Plain white walls, a small bed with a small desk beside it, a small oak filing cabinet, but with ply wood floors.
Sync shut the door, turning the lock. He walked towards the window, the ocean view was amazing. The sun was setting, the benevolent waves crashing upon the light yellow sand of the beach, the water was sparkling orange and yellow, hints of blue around the exterior edges of the waves. His eyes became downcast, short memories flooding back to him, the boat ride to here, he recalled short glimpses of what happened, a voice shouting at him. His knees were wobbling, tears dropping from his face, breathing becoming harder, he fell onto the floor. One fisted hand and his knees supporting him up. Coughing, puddles of blood dripped from his mouth, body shaking, his mind becoming blank. Sync's arms failed to support, they dropped down to the floor, along with his body and his head, his eyes closed, blood covering the silhouette of his face.<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></div>
I know I'm a failure at writing, and you probably could not follow the story. Please, give me suggestions, corrections and constructive criticism. Much love, kids. <3<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc-->
[Update] I did create a blog for this, considering the chapters are too long, I will be posting updated chapters here and there.
<a href="http://affib.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">http://affib.wordpress.com/</a>
<div align="center"><!--coloro:black--><span style="color:black"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:1--><span style="font-size:8pt;line-height:100%"><!--/sizeo-->I.
Nervousness, fright; such emotions are carried by many of the passengers on this boat. Many leave the remains of their complementary lunch on the floor decks or the sea. They were riled up, some eager; finally being taken to the island of Dancin' Paradise. It was an unusual island, not only because it is an island filled with only dancers, but the weather conditions undertaken in one season. There can be so much as blistering hot sand, with benevolent waves crashing upon the beach; on the other side of the island, there are steep, intimidating mountains that are covered with soft, pure white snow.
One could say they were enthusiastic to get onto such an island, looking for adventures and acquaintances. Rarely do you find such a passenger that was bored, a solemn look upon their faces. There was such a person, a young boy. He had messy black hair, a fair height of 182 centimeters and a weight of 68 kilograms. His eyes were the color of a dark amethyst; his skin, tanned lightly. His expression was that of forlorn. An emotion that would not be seen on such a trip. He sat against the cabin walls, facing the back of the boat, his chin up; eyes lingering from cloud to cloud, watching as the color slowly turns into shades of gray and black, indicating an upcoming storm.
There was no gloss in his eyes, as if he were dead. No movement was made from him, his face showed no signs of emotion. Waves came crashing upon the boat, the storm was coming through. Fierce winds pierced his skin, rain pouring onto the deck of the boat. His hair wet, clothes sticking onto his skin. Others were already making head way to the cabins, steering clear of the rain, trying not to catch a sickness. He stayed, his body trembling for the temperature. He was showing symptoms of a flu. He sneezed often, coughed loudly, and his head moved violently as if he were about to black out.
His head hit the floor; lightning starting to plunder down from the now black skies. The storm became a fury of anger, waves hit the bottom sides of the boat ferociously, causing a stir in the boat to rock violently from side to side. He was pushed from one side to another, hitting tables and seats on the deck.. His sides hit the rails, with a loud sound, causing great pain if he were ever to wake up. The storm kept getting worse, a flurry of waves reached high up onto the deck floor and crashed upon him. At this rate, he could die from the little warmth he had, a flu was already apparent. Being knocked unconscious, he was in a terrible situation.
The sound of frenzied footsteps came. A hoarse, nervous voice shouted at him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” The tone was feminine, it was from a girl that looked just slightly older than he did. She roughly grabbed his arms, struggling to pull him into the cabins.
“Dammit, you're heavy!” She grunted in frustration, pulling and scratching her hair, with a killing intent.
“Why am I even helping you?” She knew she wouldn't get an answer, but she kept on shouting.
“I swear to God, if you don't wake up, I will personally see to your death.” Rain soaked the clothes of the woman, the cloth sticking to her skin, making it uncomfortable to be in. The boat rocked harshly, pulling the woman onto the rail, losing her balance and falling on her bottom. She seethed her teeth in pain, holding on the rail for her dear life. Sea water hit her entire body, the waves were getting stronger, the wind becoming fast enough to pierce through even the toughest of hides.
The violent shocks of being pushed around did a number to her head. She was on the verge of fainting, she could conjure enough energy to even stand up. Her mind was blanking out, her body; shivering from the temperature of the water, it was as if you were diving into a pool at the middle of the night. She rested her palms upon his body, breathing deeply; coughing sea water down onto the floor. She rocked backed and forth, before her head finally hit the deck, eyes closed and trembling. Water plummeted from the sea in a ferocious manner, the boat tilted too far to one side, carrying the boy off into sea. The girl, was dangerously close to the edge, but the boat shifted suddenly to the other side from the effects of waves. Her body hitting against anything and everything that was left on the outside corridors of the boat; rest of the items being lost in the water.
The boy woke up, jumpy and confused an injurious feeling by his head. He found himself in a plain white room, the bumpy exterior of the walls, apparent. He was hooked up to wires, a tube of unknown liquid was supplying him nutrients, the rest attached to other parts of his body, it seemed to keep him alive. His legs were numb; in frustration and confusion, he unhatched the wires savagely. His clothes were changed, a dark gray shirt, bland, just like the room; white pants that were too uncomfortably tight around the hips and shoes plainly black and white were fit upon him. Opening the door, the boy stormed out of the room; nurses seeing him became shocked, they tried to stop him, he had a reaction to walk faster, ignoring their commands. Lowering his head, he walked down floors, wandering to the main lobby. Stumbling over little obstacles that would normally be avoided, he was in a rush to get out of the horrific place.
He reached the main lobby, about to step out. A doctor noticed him, a patient of his. The doctor firmly grabbed his shoulder, the boy turned around a face of distraught, looking up at the person grabbing his shoulder, the doctor made a gesture to follow, the boy nodded. A firm grip was placed on his hands, so he wouldn't run away. They walked from room to room, stopping finally at an office.
“I'm Doctor Perzupe, I see you've finally woken up.” The boy wouldn't talk, his eyes lingered up and down, examining the structure of Perzupe. He was old, around the age of his father. His hair was turning gray, his skin; dry, pale and wrinkles are abundant.
“You might be wonder how you get here.” As a response, he grunted, turning his head away, instead staring at the pictures. “We found you lying on the beaches, possibly from the storm five months ago.” He furrowed his eyebrows, in interest.
“I bet you're making this up, storm? What storm?” Perzupe's face was expressionless. “Oh, that's right. You're suffering a case of amnesia.” The boy sat quietly. “You're on the island of Dancin' Paradise, you do know what this island is, right?” He shook his head, slowly, keeping his eyes on the old man.
“Let's try and sum you up here, you're on the island of Dancin' Paradise. When you came here..” He stopped, short, took a deep breath and continued on, a tone more low. “When you came here, there was a storm, apparently you got knocked off and got washed ashore.”
The boy stared, waiting for him to proceed. “Someone took you in, a nice girl. Though, you never woke up, we almost thought of pulling the plug on you around the third month.” His expression turned into shock, of aggravation.
“What?” A vile sound came from him. “Of course, we didn't.” The doctor's voice coarse, he gave a small laugh of reassurance.
“What surprises me though, is that you're awake so suddenly.”
Perzupe pursed his lips, “And.. now onto the bad part.” He looked up, staring at Perzupe. “I thought it couldn't get worse.” His eyes turned black, “well.. you were diagnosed with a type of disease that causes your immune system to get weaker, you may have trouble breathing and may get a vast amount of pain by your abdominal areas.” He stayed silent, his body pushed back, a shaking hand rubbing the temple of his eyes. “You've had this since birth, but it only started showing until eight months ago, from your records, before you left for this island.”
A question hung at the back of his mind. “So, is it curable?” Perzupe shook his head.
“Unfortunately, it's one of those diseases where we have not found a cure for it yet. I'm sorry but, it can also lead to your death.” The boy banged his hands on the wall in frustration, causing a small tremor on the walls; he growled, as if to say 'I hate the world.' He moved forward, looking intently into Perzupe's eyes.
“So what do I do? I'm here already.” Perzupe paced around the room, his hands feeling around his head bobbing from area to area.
He stopped abruptly at a small cabinet, opening the light maple door, he took out old, musty papers. “You're here to dance. I know you won't have a place to reside in, so these are forms you can fill out to stay at the dorms in the dancing school.” Handing over the papers, Perzupe went back to the cabinet, taking out more papers, except these were crisp, clean and not as yellow from aging as the ones he was currently holding now.
“And, these are papers to register for an alias, fill them all out and go to the main center.” Perzupe clapped his hands together, rubbing the dust off his bony hands.
“The main center's just two block down from this hospital, it's huge, you won't miss it.” He shooed the boy off, pushing him gently down to the main entrance, forcing him to move.
“I wish you good luck, stop by if you're having any physical problems.” The boy mumbled incoherent words and set off to the main center.
While walking around the city, he couldn't help but notice the huge masses of people, the tall buildings set onto such an island, and the laughing, happy citizens of Dancin' Paradise. The soles of his slightly dirty shoes stopped, his eyes cast upon the tower of the main center. It was huge, it covered at least what five houses regularly structured houses could, with an abundant ten floors. The center was painted a dark shade of purple, glass aplenty at the sides and the front of the building. It scratched the skies, towering above the city. It was almost intimidating, to fall from such a height would cause instant death. He pondered intently, his thoughts unknown.
Walking closely to the silicon doors, they opened; a smell of generic offices wafted into his nose. It was a smell of new couches, an unbelievable amount of air fresheners sprayed and hot printer paper, as though they were just printed on. There was a slight commotion with the faces around him, a blur of voices rang in his ears, a deafening noise to him. He sat on the oak carved chair, filling the forms as legibly as his ability could bare him. Moments passed, noise barred down, calming him. Walking towards the main counter, a deathly pale woman took the papers from him, processing his information. Her wavy, chocolate brown hair got in the way of her sight, the ability of typing slimming. She took out a small digital camera, a slim, slick silver colored camera; the model YNK290x. A snap was heard and it took the boy by surprise, a picture was taken of him.
“Your information is done processing, your alias is now Sync.” She handed Sync his User I.D card. It contained an alarmed picture of Sync, the background was colored with a blue and there was small, narrow font that contained his personal information.
“A dorm is being set for you in the school, check by them in an hour, here's the address.” Sync nodded, walking slowly out of the office, his card in hand. A stern look on his face, he searched around the city, knowing it was too early to go to the school. Sync admired the building structures, they were all tall, his gaze not averting them. His feet took him elsewhere, to a near by basketball court.
An electronic box was set up by one end of the hoops, a hologram of a person seemingly judging their moves. Four lively beings were dancing to their hearts content, he took hold of the rails separating the dancers from Sync. His eyes watched closely. A girl stood to the front, her glossy brunette hair blowing from one side to another. She dropped to the ground, her hands on the floor and her soles not touching the ground, not moving her hands she quickly crossed her feet, from once side to another. Standing up, she went back to her spot, it was another person's turn to go to the front.
Time passed, he was fascinated; pondering how one could do such complicated arrays of dancing moves. Sync stood there, watching. His eyes widened as he noticed how much time has passed by, it's been well over an hour and he had to get going.
“Frick, late for that appointment.” Sync whispered solemnly to himself, he released his grip on the rails, running as if his feet were being carried by the wind. He reached the main center of the town, he looked at the paper with the address it was just five streets down the hospital. The school was plain, an enormous building, but plain. It was colored with fresh mocha paint, and it was made of what seemed to be stone. The entrance had an abundance of growing plants and flowers, from rose bushes to dandelion flowers. A sign,, lying on the top of the entrance contained the words. 'Audition – Dancin' Paradise school of honor. 1950 – 2075'.
Sync's feet reached inside, chills running down his spine. The halls were at a temperature below even outside, on a winter morning day. He wandered; aimlessly, the front desk was empty. The balls of his feet touched the office door of the Dean of the school, the door was painted purple, an interesting color, it didn't seem to match the rest of the school, being it colored mocha. He knocked, twice. A coarse voice answered, allowing him to come into the room. The door squeaked open, found there was an old man, his hair gray, few strands of black hair barely visible to the eyes of humans. His face was dragging, wrinkles forming on his cheeks, forehead and under his eyes. A pair of glasses embroidered his face, they were black and big, the shape was circular. Shaky hands came towards him, offering Sync to sit down.
“Hello, you may call me Veal, what are you here for, child?” His face cracked into a smile, the old grandpa was a compassionate, kind-hearted person.
Sync handed him the registration papers, he took of his glasses, looking at the papers. His smile became even bigger, he turned his seat towards the computer. Typing slowly, he pulled out information of Sync, as to what will be regulations of him staying here.
“Alright, we have you in the dorm number one hundred twenty-two, floor four.” His voice was dry, he licked his lips and swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth; beginning to talk once again, “your instructor is a Ms. Ri. You'll be attending classes every other day, rules and regulations may be found on your table in the dorm.” He turned his body, staring into Sync's dark amethyst eyes.
“Do you have any questions?” Sync's eyes lift, his expression turning into that of a day dreaming state, he was indeed thinking.
“Where may I meet my instructor?”
“She was scheduled to meet you today, but she's running late. Tomorrow you can meet her at the basketball courts, she'll teach you dancing there.” Sync stood up, pushing the chair back, signaling he was ready to leave.
“I'll be on my way, thank you.” He bowed, showing respect. Veal's eyes lighted up, it has been years since he's been shown respect, through such a little gesture. Sync walked slowly out, turning right, looking for his room. Moments of walking, he found it. Opening the door, it was revealed that his room was just like the hospital. Plain white walls, a small bed with a small desk beside it, a small oak filing cabinet, but with ply wood floors.
Sync shut the door, turning the lock. He walked towards the window, the ocean view was amazing. The sun was setting, the benevolent waves crashing upon the light yellow sand of the beach, the water was sparkling orange and yellow, hints of blue around the exterior edges of the waves. His eyes became downcast, short memories flooding back to him, the boat ride to here, he recalled short glimpses of what happened, a voice shouting at him. His knees were wobbling, tears dropping from his face, breathing becoming harder, he fell onto the floor. One fisted hand and his knees supporting him up. Coughing, puddles of blood dripped from his mouth, body shaking, his mind becoming blank. Sync's arms failed to support, they dropped down to the floor, along with his body and his head, his eyes closed, blood covering the silhouette of his face.<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></div>
I know I'm a failure at writing, and you probably could not follow the story. Please, give me suggestions, corrections and constructive criticism. Much love, kids. <3<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc-->