( ♛ // ─ the virus effect ─────

[peachy keen-]

oooh this is cool.
i quite like your stories it seems, bliss. c;
(i'm guessing the boy is ezra. o:)

thank you, type!! <3
[ drat! you saw through his secret cover thingy. c; ]

[Ravenstag Mechanisms]

This is really good! I also quite like the idea, as it isn't just the person lives in a place where your not allowed to go to a certain area but they go, you've got the idea about the book that is really good. I will definitely continue to read this.

[peachy keen-]

This is really good! I also quite like the idea, as it isn't just the person lives in a place where your not allowed to go to a certain area but they go, you've got the idea about the book that is really good. I will definitely continue to read this. :)

thank you so very much for the encouraging words!
that means a lot <3

[➳ hoot]

this is really good! im very excited for the next chapter ;u;

[peachy keen-]

this is really good! im very excited for the next chapter ;u;

thank you so much!!! ;w;

[peachy keen-]

apologies for the crappy filler chapter. don't worry; the next one won't be like this.

I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴍʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇs I’ᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ. Both of their heads snap towards me.

“Ah, Corrina!” My mother claps her hands together. “This young man came over while you were out.”

“Why?” I say, crossing my arms.

“Well, don’t be rude! Say hello.”

“Hello. Why are you here?”

“Hey,” he says and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I just came to see if you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” When Mother shoots me a sharp, warning look, I add: “thanks for … checking up on me.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Well, I should get going.” Mother insists on him staying for at least a couple more minutes, but he eventually convinces hers that he has to get back or his mother will worry.

“Come back anytime!” She calls, gently pushing the door closed. As soon as he’s gone, she leans against the door frame, arms crossed over her stomach, glaring daggers at me. “You should have been kinder to him. He meant well, and he’s really a nice boy.”

“I’m sure he is,” I mumble absent-mindedly as I grab an apple from the cupboards and take a bite. The juice dribbles down my chin, and I use my shirt sleeve to wipe it away.

“You shouldn’t be eating that, Corrina. Food supply is running low for the whole city. That apple could have saved some starving child’s life!”

“I’m sorry.” I say it automatically, because I don’t mean it. The shelter has an abundance of food, so if anyone should be feeding underweight, starving six year olds, it should be them.

She sighs. “Okay, help me peel these potatoes for dinner.”

I take most of the potatoes and a knife into the living room. I plop down on one out of the three chairs and start peeling. Cinder joins me a couple minutes later. I take the chance to spark up a conversation.

“So, how was school?”

She shrugs. “Boring, as usual.”

I don’t blame her. Since new ideas and reading are banned, school is extremely dull. There’s math, science, and history. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, they’ll teach you writing, too.

“Don’t worry; you’ll be out of there in a couple years.”

“Yeah, well, seven years is more than a couple.”

I snort, nudging her with my elbow playfully. “Smart aleck.”

♛

A few minutes later, Cinder and I have finished peeling the potatoes. We give them to Mother, who chops them up and sticks them in a large pot to boil. Cinder disappears into one of the rooms with a few of the small girls that are staying with us, so I decide to get some fresh air. I practically live outside. I cannot stand our house, especially when it’s crowded with strangers that my mother has taken pity on. I’m not as heartless as I sound, however. I do admire my mother’s caring and … well, motherly nature, and I think it’s great that someone is more than willing to take care of those who can’t take care of themselves; I just wish that that someone wasn’t her.

As soon as I step out onto the porch, someone grabs my forearm and drags me aside. I shriek in surprise, but then Presley’s there, grinning like an idiot.

“What is with you and scaring me out of my wits?” I snap, exasperated.

Our eye contact never breaks as she pulls something out of her jacket pocket. Speaking of jackets, Presley’s always wearing one. It could be one hundred and ten degrees in the heat of the summer, and she’d still be wearing one. That’s how strange my best friend is. Anyways, now a cupcake and a rose are clasped in her hands.

“Where in the world did you get that?” I gasp, resisting the temptation to snatch the objects away from her. Sweet bakery items (such as cakes, pies, cupcakes, and pastries) are rare here in Castor, especially for the poorer families. In fact, I think I’ve had four in my entire life. As for flowers — they’re practically impossible to find.

“I was just walking home a couple minutes ago, and the post office guy stopped me. He asked me if I knew you — you know, since I’m around you a lot — and I said yes, so he gave me these and told me to give them to you. When I asked who they were from, he said it was just a gift from someone.” She shrugs, shoving the flower and cupcake in my hands.

“Weird,” I mumble.

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Weird’?”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses before continuing, “but I bet it’s from that kid that was at your house!”

I wrinkle my nose. “No way.”

“Well, you can deny it all you want, but —”

“CORINNNAAAA!” My mother screeches from the doorway. Hastily, I stuff the cupcake and rose into my pockets, probably crushing and totally ruining both of them. I groan. “I need your help with dinner!”

“Coming, Mom!” I call back, shooting Presley an ‘I’m sorry’ look. “See you later.”

“Bye,” she says, just as I close the front door, my mind drowning in questions.

[peachy keen-]

YEYYYYY new chapter. i just hope i'm not developing *coughezracough* the boy too quickly.

Tᴡᴏ ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ᴛʀᴜᴅɢᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ sʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ sɴᴀɪʟ’s ᴘᴀᴄᴇ. I spend most of that time outdoors or with Presley. The boy I ran into on the street doesn’t come again, despite his promise to my mother. I’m fine with that. I never really was fond of him in the first place, and if he’s the one sending me the ‘gifts’, I dislike him even more. Every day I am given a cupcake and a rose from the post office. Whenever I ask the post man who’s it from, he shrugs and says it’s a gift from a secret someone. I haven’t told Mother or Cinder about the gifts, but somehow Cinder found out. She’s a clever kid, and I can never seem to keep anything from her without her figuring it out within a span of a couple days.

One day, Presley and I are walking home from the farmer’s market. I am struggling to keep a hold of three brown paper bags stuffed with goods; each must weigh at least a ton.

“Sooo,” Presley hums naturally, glancing over at me. “Have you received your little present yet today?”

I scowl at her, furrowing my eyebrows. But she prompts me, nudging my rib cage with her elbow, so I answer. “Yes.”

“Awesome!” she squeals, lacing her fingers together. And then I realize that she’s not carrying anything, so I toss one of the bags at her. She nearly doesn't catch it, and several canned fruits and vegetables tumble to the ground, roll across the gravelly pavement, and finally stop when someone sticks their shoe out. “Sorry. My idiotic friend here — oh!” Both of us gasp in unison as we realize who the foot belongs to.

It’s just my luck to run into this boy, I groan inwardly.

He smiles, and it infuriates me. I don’t know why. I guess he just gets under my skin. “It’s fine,” he says as he bends down, gathering the cans, and then hands them back to a furiously blushing Presley.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, stumbling over her words.

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs, and at that very second, all three of our wrist watches beep collectively, signaling that it’s three o’clock. Presley groans, handing the bag back to me.

“Sorry, guys. Mom wanted me back by three. See ya!” She waves, and I catch her winking at me as she spins on her heel, skipping away.

“…Well, she’s pretty odd,” the boy remarks quietly. I’m pretty sure that he didn’t mean for me to hear it, but I answer anyways.

“Uh, she’s not usually … like that.”

He grins that annoying grin, and hooks his thumbs in his pants pockets. “Anyways, would you like me to walk you home? I can help you with those bags. They seem pretty heavy.”

“I’m fine,” I snap back stubbornly, though I clearly didn’t think before I spoke, because I don’t look (or feel) fine. My arms fell like they’re burning in the pits of hell, and I keep dropping things. “And you don’t need to walk me home. You’re probably busy, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get mugged.”

“I don’t need to be anywhere until four. Besides, I’d like to get to know you. So, if it’s okay, I’ll walk with you.”

I hesitate before nodding. “Okay.”

It take about five minutes until I feel like my arms are about to fall off, and another five minutes for me to build up the courage to admit that I need help. “If you want you can take one of the bags.” I offer, attempting to sound nonchalant as I shrug my shoulders.

He gives me a smug, all-knowing smile, then nods. “Alright.” He takes one of the bags, which instantly relieves my burning arms.

“So, where do you live?” I finally ask, trying to be polite.

His gaze flits away from mine and settles on the brown paper bag. Then, he shrugs, and doesn’t say anything. A sick feeling swims in my gut, and I regret asking. I’m about to apologize when he clears his throats and speaks up.

“Um, well, it’s just over there.”

I squint in the direction he’s pointing. “You mean behind the orphana —” and then I catch myself, but it’s too late. “But … err, you told my mom that your mom was waiting for you.”

“I know,” he mutters. “I lied. I didn’t want your mom to think badly of me.”

At this, my guilt is replaced by anger. “Well, if that’s not the definition of shallow then I don’t know what is. My mother would never think of someone any less just because they don’t have parents,” I say pointedly, fiercely defensive.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, hands up. “That’s just usually how it goes.”

“Oh, okay, I get it now.” I scoff, crossing my hands over my nonexistent chest. “Does this happen every time you suck up to a girl’s parents? You lie about having a mom so they’ll like you? I bet all the girls fall for you, with your charmingly annoying smile, your quick wit, and your ability to twist anyone around your fingers just like that.” I snap my fingers, spitting out the words as if they were poison. “Well, I guess you’ll have to get used to rejection, because I’m not your typical, boy-crazy, hormonally-drove teenaged girl. And if you would stop sending me those annoying gifts, that’d be nice too.” When I’m finished, I feel rather proud of myself, even though I was clearly overly harsh.

Although I’m expecting a sharp, angry reply, he only gives me a quizzical, puzzled look. “What gifts?”

“Don’t play dumb.” I bite back. “You know what? I think I can handle myself from now on.” I take the bag back from him and storm off. He doesn’t even bother to call after or follow me.

I am only two or three blocks from my house when I pass by a gap between two brown, looming buildings, just like I do every day. But this time, something bright catches my eye. I backtrack, take a quick glance around to make sure no one’s following me, and then duck into the alleyway. I have to dig through a large pile of damp, dirty leaves before I find it. I gingerly pick it up and brush a few wet leaves that stuck to its lavender cover. I barely register what it is before I hurriedly tuck it into my spring coat, my heart beating like I’ve nearly escaped a train wreck. It’s tattered, but I can definitely tell that it’s a book, one of the many things that are forbidden here in Castor. The teachers at school own a few because it would be impossible to teach without them, but as far as I know, they are the only ones who have their hands on one.

When I turn around, there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing that irritatingly smug, knowing smile that I despise so much, is none other than the same boy I had a basically one-sided quarrel with not three minutes ago. And before I can stop him, he asks me the last question I want to be asked:

“What’cha got there?”

[.:A r i c a R e e:.]

Haha! This seems really interesting! I hope you continue it!!!

[peachy keen-]

Haha! This seems really interesting! I hope you continue it!!!

thank you !! i will be continuing it ^^

[bianca del rio]

Just finished last chapter you wrote.
This is amazing.
I'm in awe.