Someone else had started following the site! Thanks to LittleFears for following the site! I hope you enjoy my artwork and stories. Speaking of which, I wanted to share the ninth chapter of “The Infinite Guide”. I know I have not updated anything on this story for a long time, but now I want to post the ninth chapter of book one before I update the page.
Here it is:
Chapter 9: A Night to Remember…Forever
She wondered if she should be going outside as she sewed on the final touches to her costume. She still saw the tears swell in her eyes of her enemy as she expressed her warming with a shaky voice; Fiona found herself forcing more on Izzy’s tears than anything else. Poor Isabella-
She extinguished the line of thought before she could continue it. She reminded herself of what was important: her hatred toward Izzy Armstrong; everyone hated Izzy and her brothers. Then again, they hated her too.
She can still remember the times when she felt as sad that she almost cried while in school, and saved for Fox and a handful of teachers, no one really cared. Her classmates would say things like ‘don’t be sad, Fiona’ or ‘it will be ok’, but that didn’t make up for the thing they called her when they thought she wasn’t listening: freak. She couldn’t stand being called that.
“Ouch!” Distraction caused her sewing needle to go through the material of her costume and into your finger. Immediately, she drove her finger into her mouth, licking and sucking on the wounded finger. When she pulled the finger out, she was relived to find the finger not bleeding; it was still stinging though. Using a pair of sewing scissors, she cut the string and placed the needle along with the others in her sewing box, which was a wooden box in which she kept her sewing tools. She held her costume up in front of her and nodded. It was suitable for wearing.
Her hesitations faded away as her dressed herself in her homemade costume. This was a huge step for her. Not only was she going to a party with her own original costume, but she was eager to socialize with her fellow classmates without fear of them judging her choice of clothing, instead they would praise her for her beautifully crafted dress. She’ll be respected and accepted, they might even invite her to hang out with them. In addition, she wouldn’t have to worry about people teasing her about her birthmark, her witch’s hat was big enough to cover her forehead. She was positive that this was going to be the best birthday ever and that nothing was going to ruin it.
After waving goodbye to her father, who waved back from inside the car, Fiona stepped through the front doors of her school. She stood inside the hallway, shaking with anxiety. Despite being in the far side of the school, she was able to hear the loud music; it echoed through the walls and vibrated the floor underneath her feet. Of course she still couldn’t bring Jinx along with her, but that didn’t stop her from sneaking the cat in a wicker basket, which she prepared along with her costume. She couldn’t leave her beloved cat alone while she was out having fun, it wouldn’t be fair.
She peeled back the sheet covering the basket, revealing the black cat inside; curled in a cozy ball. “Ready Jinx?” Jinx looked at her with his deep green eyes and meowed. “Alright then, let’s go.” She said while placing the sheet back over basket. She inhaled deeply, feeling a little nervous, exhaled, and, once she was calm enough, strolled towards the gymnasium, where the Halloween Bash was taking place.
She felt something hard and blunt struck the back of her head. She cried out and fell to her knees, the basket with Jinx in it, falling to the floor in front her. The cat immediately got on his feet and ran to his owner, who was rubbing her sore head and weeping. Her witch’s hat, tore from her head, giving the throbbing wound, which felt like the burning of a hundred suns, air to breathe.
“Well, look at what we have here.” She heard a tough-sounding voice spoke behind her, followed by wicked chuckling. She looked up to find three figures surrounding her. Tank was standing over her, a steel bat in one hand. Mike and Johnny were standing behind her, both carrying rolls of duct tape.
Tank held the bat firmly in his hands as he spoke. “A witch and her cat.” Without taking his eyes off of Fiona, he spoke to his brothers. “You guys know the rule about witches, don’t ya men?”
Johnny smiled as he ripped a strand of tape from the roll. He nodded and said, “Anyone caught in the act of witchery…” The bat swung and it landed on Fiona’s shoulder, sending her on her side, shrieking in pain. She felt the bones beneath the skin snap and break. “…will be given to a trial…” Johnny took a piece of duct tape and placed it over Fiona’s mouth. She let out a series of muffled groans as he finished speaking, “…in which no one will be defending your case.”
“Arrest her.” Tank ordered. “Make sure she can’t move.” Jinx’s back arched, his tail shot upward, and his hissed and groaned at them, his fangs and claws prepared to attack. Tank gestured to the cat with the steel bat. “Arrest her cat- I mean, her demon partner too. Stuff it in the backpack.” The two brothers did what they were took. She could felt a pair of large, tough hands pin she to the floor. She saw a hand grab her feline friend by the back of his neck, making him groan and hiss louder, then the hand lifted Jinx and the groaning and hissing suddenly stopped as he was stuffed inside a backpack. She heard the sound of ripping of duct tape, followed by the sensation of sticky tape around her wrists.
She wanted to thrash her arms at them, but she had loss feeling in one arm and she couldn’t control the other, what with it being confined against her back. She began to frenziedly kick her legs, only to have them bounded together by duct tape. She yelled and screamed through the tape on her mouth, crying from the pain. She felt herself being lifted from the ground, and after what seemed to Fiona as an era of walking, she was inside an empty, dark room.
She was dropped onto the floor. She opened her tearful eyes to see a large metal cylinder radiating with heat. It didn’t take her long for Fiona to recognize the metal cylinder as a boiler. A tattered backpack with faded colors was dropped beside her, inside she could hear the meows of her pet. “Now,” Tank exclaimed. “To judge the accused. What is the jury’s verdict?”
“Guilty.” Mike and Johnny said in unison. Tank smiled proudly.
“Excellent.” He said. “Let the punishment begin.” That was when Fiona saw Tank pull out a lighter.