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by peachy keen- » Sat Feb 07, 2015 5:23 pm


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══════════════════════Hundreds of years ago, a disease called “The Virus” broke out, killing off the majority
of the population. Those who survived banded together and created twelve, overpop-
ulated, large cities scattered through out the States. If you live in one of the cities, y-
ou know nothing more than what is inside your city’s walls. It is illegal & punishable by
death to leave the city.
Sixteen year old Corrina Walsh lives in one of the largest and dullest of the twelve citi-
es in the US -- Castor. There are no vibrant colors in Castor; only dull shades of brown,
grey, and black. Because it is so large, up to three families live in one house at a time.
Despite its dreariness, the government has brainwashed everyone into thinking that th-
eir lives in Castor are great. Creativity is completely banned. There are no new ideas a-
nd reading is outlawed. But, one day, when Corrina finds a worn, abandoned book, lying
in an alleyway, she picks it up and carries it home. The book is centered on the world o-
utside of Castor; before the Virus killed off everyone. Corrina soon learns that her life i-
sn’t as peachy as the government is making it out to be (not that she ever believed the-
m in the first place).
See, two years ago, Corrina’s best friend, Luca, disappeared. The government passed it
off as suicide. It was common knowledge that Luca talked about death and the likes of-
ten, but Corrina knew better. She knew Luca was not depressed or suicidal; he just had
a fascination with death, and she never knew why. When Luca and Corrina started disc-
ussing a file that Luca had stumbled upon in his father’s office, he started to receive d-
eath threats, and two weeks later, he disappeared. Corrina never gave up on the search
for Luca, but after two years, she began to lose hope. Soon after finding this book in th-
e alleyway, things begin to unfold. Will Corrina risk everything to find out above this n-
ew, undiscovered world, and her friend’s sudden disappearance?══════════════════════

Last edited by
peachy keen- on Thu Feb 19, 2015 10:31 am, edited 5 times in total.
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peachy keen-
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by peachy keen- » Sun Feb 08, 2015 7:43 am


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══════════════════════
Well, hey there, stranger! I'm sure you don't want to read about me, but I'm going to tell
you all my life story anyways because I want to. Anyways, you can just call me Bliss. I've
been writing stories since third grade, but it became my passion a couple years ago. If I
am not here on the Discuss and Share Your Writing forum, I'm roleplaying or coding. I've
been a member here for a little over a year, but my older sister played back in 2008, and
I'd often watch her.
I write mosly for myself, which means I do not need someone elses approval to write. I re-
alize that this sort of dystopian rotten on the inside/perfect on the outside idea is way ov-
erused, but I decided to do this anyways. This doesn't mean that I don't like to be critique-
d; if fact, I LOVE helpful tips and pointers, so don't be afraid to give me some. Don't worr-
y; I can take it. ;)
I am currently in high school, and I hope my writing will continue to improve in the years to
come. I have a habit of starting and not finishing things, but I'm hoping to finish this. I am
also working on a story called "Ten Days" which I have here on CS. It's on hold, since the lap-
top I had it saved on broke, but I'm hoping to get it off of there sometime soon and continu-
e it.
My life practically revolves around writing. I'm constantly thinking of new plot ideas, plot tw-
ists for my current stories, and how my life would look like if it were written in a book.
I think that's about it! I'm so excited to start The Virus Effect -- I hope it pleases you! c:
══════════════════════

Last edited by
peachy keen- on Sun Feb 08, 2015 10:20 am, edited 3 times in total.
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peachy keen-
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by peachy keen- » Sun Feb 08, 2015 8:09 am
posting is now open c:Mʏ ғᴇᴇᴛ ᴅᴀɴɢʟᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴀɴᴋʟᴇs, ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ sᴋɪʀᴛ. Two feet away, my best friend, Luca, is sitting; his hands clasped together, his bright blue eyes trained on the ground, nearly forty feet down. We’ve been sitting like this for a good solid thirty minutes. When he finally speaks, I jump in my skin.
“What would happen if I jumped?”
I sigh, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. It isn’t uncommon for him to say something like this. For the past few months, he’s been fascinated with death. It’s not that he’s suicidal; he just loves to talk about it. It scares me sometimes — how sincere he is about it. “Stop it, Luca. You know I hate it when you say things like that.”
“I’m serious!” He insists.
“Stop,” I say again, firmer. “Just stop. You’re not going to jump.”
“I’m still serious,” he mutters.
Anger flares up in me like a blazing fire. “Why are you like this? You know it scares me.”
“I’m not trying to scare you, Corrina.” His blue eyes flicker away from my brown ones, and for a second, I think I detect fear in his them. But then it’s gone, and I brush the thought away. You know, I’ve always envied his eyes. They’re big, round, and a light, crystal blue. Mine are wide-set and a mud brown. When I finally told him this one day, he smirked and said, “I don’t blame you for being jealous.” If you haven’t noticed, Luca isn’t one for expressing his pity.
Several minutes tick by before he starts to talk again. “I discovered another folder under my dad’s bed.”
A gasp escapes through my slightly-parted lips before I can stop it. “You did? Tell me what it—” I pause, take a deep breath, burying my curiosity and let my caution resurface. “We shouldn’t be talking about this, Luca. They”—at this, I point upward, even though I know Castor’s leaders don’t live in the sky—“could, and probably are, watching us right now.”
A grin I know all too well appears on Luca’s mouth and his whole face lights up. “You’re curious, though, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course I am,” I admit, but hastily go on. “But I’m more concerned over those ominous notes you’re getting.”
“Ah, Corrina, you worry too much.” He tells me in a sing-song tone, waving his newest death threat note in my face. “They can’t do anything to me.”
“Don’t be so sure.” I roll my eyes at him. He shoves me, and I nearly fall off the ledge, but he grabs my shirt. “Luca! What were you thinking?! I could have fallen to my death!” I shriek, my heart beating about a thousand times a second.
He only smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, but you didn’t.”
Before I have a chance to shoot back a snarky reply, he speaks up again. “Well, I’m going to tell you what was in the folder, now, whether you like it or not.”
“Fine.”
“It said something about the Unknown Region. Something called the ‘United States’. I think it was written recently, because it talks about the government. How they’re … lying to us? I don’t know.” His gaze drops to a loose string on his shirt, then tugs at it.
“First, don’t do that. You’re going to unravel your whole shirt,” I snap, slapping his hand. “Second, we shouldn’t be digging around in your father’s business. You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Killed?” he scoffs. “They can’t kill a couple of fifteen year olds.”
I raise my eyebrows, severely doubting his logic, but I don’t say anything. He won’t have any of it. So for the next fifteen minutes, we just sit there on the building’s ledge, and don’t speak. The words Luca spoke not three minutes ago keep plaguing my mind: ‘They can’t do anything to me’.
How so very wrong he was.
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peachy keen- on Thu Feb 19, 2015 10:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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by peachy keen- » Mon Feb 09, 2015 4:11 am
woo hoo, the first chapter is up! i'm so excited to get going with this. c:“What? Why are you all staring at me like that?”
“Corrina … I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?”
“It’s Luca.”
“Yeah … what about him?”
“Honey, he’s dead.”
I ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ. My sheets are soaked with sweat, and my whole body is shivering violently, but not because it’s cold. I have had the same nightmare every night since Luca disappeared. I wake up like this every night. And I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do. No one but my little sister, Cinder, knows about the nightmares that I am forced to face every night, and that’s only because she shares a room with me.
Sighing, I flip my blankets off of me. I’m freezing, and the sheet does little to protect me. Here in Castor, luxuries are rare. Yet, almost everyone’s content. Happy, even. I’m not. I tiptoe quietly past my sister’s mattress, out the bedroom’s door, past the many rooms with sleeping strangers, and into the kitchen. When families have nowhere to go, my mother takes them in, since we have a larger house than most. Castor is far too overpopulated, but so are the other eleven cities, so everyone is stuck. I constantly feel crowded, and purposeless.
I bite down on my bottom lip, filling a plastic cup with metallic-tasting water. Just as I’m taking my first sip, Cinder appears in the doorway to the kitchen. I give a sharp, ‘oh!’ and set my glass down. “Cinder, what are you doing up?”
She probes the inside of her cheek with her tongue — a nasty habit that she’s adopted in the past couple months. “I heard your screams,” she mumbles in reply, her voice heavy with drowsiness.
“You should be asleep. You have school tomorrow, you know.” I scold her, kicking a loose piece of tile on our checkered kitchen floor. I no longer go to school. Everyone graduates at the age of sixteen, but since I did nothing but eat, sleep and sit in my room for a year after Luca disappeared and was announced dead, I dropped out a year early.
“Yeah, I know. But I’m thirsty. Can I have some water?”
I nod in response, filling a glass identical to mine with water, and then tuck her back into her bed. I climb into my own, and prepare for another sleepless night.
♛
I wake to the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. I groan, sitting up in my bed and glance over at my clock. It reads 8:52. My eyebrows shoot to the top of her forehead. Usually I am awoken around 7:30. Perhaps Cinder had told Mother what had happened the night before. I certainly hope that she hadn’t.
I rake my fingers through my tangled mess of brown hair, pulling it into a ponytail. Not really caring about my appearance, I trudge into the kitchen. Every head turns. I feel my cheeks heat under the accusing stares.
“Good morning, Corrina!” my mother chirps cheerfully. She’s always positive — almost to the point where it’s scary. “Come help me serve the oatmeal, will you?”
“Of course,” I respond. My arms and legs work mechanically as I pour an even amount of grey oatmeal into everyone’s dish. The younger ones have already eaten and left for school, so it’s just a couple of adults and a snobby nineteen year old girl that I have tried to speak to, but all she's interested in is boys.
After I have eaten, Mother gives me a letter to take to the post office. I don’t even ask what it’s about or who it’s for; I’m just happy to get out of the house. I fling open the front door, nearly unhinging it, sprinting as fast as my legs will take me. I’m too busy with frivolous thoughts that I don’t even notice that someone’s in my path. We collide before I even see them, and I am sent flying back, landing on my back. Every wisp of air leaves my lungs, and I lie there, gasping for air.
“Oh my gosh! Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” The person says. He’s a tall, lanky boy with chocolate brown hair, and he helps me to my feet.
“I’m … fine.” I mumble. “Just a little scraped up.”
“Okay, that’s good.” He wipes his hands on his brown slacks, pressing his lips together.
“I should get going. See you.” I shrug my shoulders back, shooting him the smile and wave routine, then trot off. He calls after me, asking me my name, but I block out his voice and pretend not to hear.
♛
After I diligently deliver the letter to the post office, I take a detour and head towards the park before heading home. The park isn’t ever used anymore — at least, not the playground section. It looks like the whole structure could collapse any minute, there are several rusted nails that poke out in various places, and several poisonous spiders have nested in most of the nooks and crannies. None of this bothers me, however, so I sit down on one of the swings, and for several minutes I sway back and forth silently, picking at my cuticles. This has kind of been my ‘happy place.’ I haven’t gathered the courage to climb back up to the roof of the old, abandoned building that used to be a work place. Luca and I used to sit up there for hours at a time, but I haven’t been there in two years. Trust me — I’ve tried, but then I get this really tight feeling in my chest, and even if I do get to the top, I can’t stay for long before breaking down.
“Corrinaaaa,” a voice next to me sings. I jump, let out a small yelp, and clap a hand over my mouth. My heartbeat slows when I realize who it is. Her name is Presley, and she’s the closest friend I have. I particularly like her because when Luca disappeared, everyone was patting me on the back; attempting to comfort me; telling me that it was going to be okay. Presley didn’t. She just sat with me. She let me cry and blubber while she just listened.
“Presley!” I gasp, scowling at her. “You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry.” I knew she wasn’t. “Your mom told me to come looking for you. She’s been wondering where you are.”
“Oh. I should probably get back. What time is it?” I ask as I stand up, brushing my grimy hands off on my pants.
She shrugs. “Dunno. Around three, maybe?”
“Guess I was gone longer than I thought,” I mumble under my breath.
“Want me to walk you home?” It was in the form of the question, but I knew it was really just a statement — no, a demand.
“If you want,” I say over my shoulder as I start walking. She jogs to catch up, slipping her hand in mine, and we walk back to my house, completely content in the silence.
As we reach the doorstep of the looming, grey house, the door flies open, clipping Presley’s nose. Cinder’s standing there, grinning brightly, her whole face glowing. “There’s someone here to see you!” she grabs a hold of my wrist, dragging me inside. Presley follows like a lost puppy, her hands clasped over her nose.
And there, standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, chatting lightly with my mother, is none other than the boy I ran into on the street.
Last edited by
peachy keen- on Thu Feb 19, 2015 10:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
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peachy keen-
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