Good news: I recently finished my first novel ever! It took a hell of a lot of work—for like a week straight, I wrote 8 hours a day, and that wasn’t even it—but it was SO much fun. (Writing this novel has also made me realize how shitty my previous writings were, haha.) There’s been a lot of editing to do, and I’m on that step right now as I write other things. Over the winter, I’m hoping to edit the novel further and then scout for agents and publishers. I’m ready to do this.
In the meantime, I’ve still been writing other things, including this short excerpt upon which I’ve been basing one of my next novels. I have so many projects running through my mind right now, god… it’s great!
So, here it is, an excerpt about a society that has been secretly watching a select person all their lives 😀
Mickey’s eyes darted wildly about, searching for a way out.
“It’s no use,” he repeated, a grin widening on his face.
Mickey crumpled to his knees and heaved a dry sob. Lights flashed wildly around him, blinding him and preserving him in memory, leaving him nowhere to run.
Ian strode calmly up to him and leaned down to place a single index finger under his trembling chin. “Now what did I tell you?”
When Mickey didn’t answer, he let a low frown hang from his face and then sharply stood up. Then, he leaned close to Mickey’s fallen face.
A hiss of a whisper: “They’re watching you.”
Mickey looked up from his spot on the ashen floor, his cheeks glistening now. With a hesitation in his throat, he spoke. “It’s so… pathetic. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t even choose to be born.” The lights continued to flash.
“But that’s the beauty of it all. How stuck you are to the point that you’re pathetic.”
Mickey looked him squarely in the eyes with defiance. “You sound so dramatic, like one of those stupid movie characters.” Then, despite his fear, he scraped up a cold smile. “You don’t need to be.” It was a bold—if not stupid—move. Maybe he’d taken it too far with the “one of those stupid movie characters” part.
But Ian only coughed out a laugh. “It’s so ironic that you say that—I mean, given what’s around you. Hah. And for future reference, I wouldn’t be talking if I were you, with those, with those fucking tears in your eyes.” He was snickering to himself now as he gazed down, almost like he and the floor were sharing a private joke.
Mickey let his own eyes fall and then frowned to himself. Then, “Why are you doing this to me?” He couldn’t take it. “Why are you doing this to me,” he whispered in desperation.
He rolled his bored eyes over him and pursed his neutral lips. “I’m not doing anything. It’s natural. You’ve been stuck with it forever, don’t you get it?” He was shaking his head. “Hm, I guess I always suspected slight retardation.”
His heart was panicking—that was it now. It couldn’t be. There was no way he couldn’t do a single thing about it… right? He could find a way out of this mess, couldn’t he?
Damn, hell was burning him over.
“No.” His voice quavered. “No. I’m not living like this.—”
Ian scoffed. “You don’t have a choice.”
“I-I’ll kill myself. Don’t think I’m a coward.”
His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
Now, it was Mickey’s turn to narrow his eyes into trying slits. “Oh, I would. I totally would, though.”
His eyes drooped and a lazy smile grew on his lips. “I’m calling your bluff right now; don’t even think you can try me.” Then, with a flick of his hand, he turned away. “But do what you want. It’s your life anyways. And if you want to forfeit it now, then do it. By all means.” He began pacing again. “Just don’t get me caught up in any of it, and you’re out.”
Ugh! Fuck him. Mickey wanted to shoot himself or pound his head against something. He was so fucking trapped, and that was the worst feeling of all, worse than knowing that his every move was so permanent and broadcast.