Tag Archives: Start

I’m writing a story. Here’s the plot. Sorry for the non-exsistence of the caps in the next few paragraphs:

so, there’s this community and it’s very perfect with many silly laws(similar to the giver), but not AS strict. yet, there is no music, no love and ect. the people in the community figure there’s probably something else out there, but don’t feel the need to leave. everything they need (so they think) is with them. they live on an island surrounded by much ocean. one day, two siblings come along from another community. they bring new things to the community like love, music and ect. (as i mentioned before). but, these things aren’t legal, so they must be kept secret.

i haven’t thought of anything else yet. comments, suggestions and ect. are much appreciated! Well, here’s my start of the story:

I guess we never really thought about anywhere else. Everything we could ever need was right here on the island. The papayas and bananas were ripe from the trees every morning and the cotton seed planted on the farmer’s grounds made the softest clothing. The wild berries which grew on the trees were used to make the most vivid of all paints and the icy water from the stream was oh so refreshing to drink or bathe in after a long day.
On a warm, breezy day, I was riding my bicycle down the sidewalk to school. Although we all lived very close to the building, I was on the outskirts of town and therefore a little further away than everyone else. I probably could’ve walked, but I loved the feeling of the wind in my hair and my legs moving as fast as a little hummingbird’s wings.
On and on I rode, for about 20 minutes, when all of a sudden I heard the speakers crackle with excitement above my head. The speakers never turned on. In fact, they had only been turned on twice in my lifetime. Twice in sixteen years. The first time they were turned on was when a community member left on his newly-made boat. The second time was when that same community member’s body washed up on shore. I suspected it would happen. After all, it was a very tiny wooden boat. A funeral was held the day after. The community was buzzing with silly thoughts and opinions, ‘Poor man,’ and, ‘He deserved it. He did a foolish thing, leaving the island, and he paid. He knew there wasn’t anything else out there.’ The people suspected there were just a few other islands besides our own. They figured they were probably the same or very similar to ours. At least, that’s what they thought until the Brightens came.
I waited patiently to hear what the speakers had to say. It took a long time for them to start functioning properly after being turned on because they weren’t used very often. While waiting, boys who looked to be about my age stopped pedaling their bicycles and held down the brakes so their bikes would cease next to mine. Their bikes gleamed next to mine. Although all of our bicycles look the same, I hadn’t had time to wash mine since I had gotten it. Every boy gets a bright blue bicycle with shiny silver breaks on their sixteenth birthday. Conveniently, our birthdays were all within a month of each other, so we got our bicycles near the same date. As boys took off their helmets (also blue, to match the color of the bicycles), I realized I was acquainted with the presence of my friends. After a few seconds, I recognized the clumsy-looking one who was still having difficulty taking off his helmet was in fact Theodore. Finally, he managed to pull the helmet off of his head. He shook out his long dark hair which was in desperate need of a haircut.
“Hey, Ryan,” Brendon said, his big brown eyes gleaming.
“Hey, Brendon.” I replied, reluctantly. My mother had warned me against Brendon Morris. She said that he was a little too adventurous, a little too mischievous.
The speaker crackled once again.
“Be quiet, guys, I think they’re about to say something important!” said Theodore, always worrying.