Webnovel Author: ThePigPriest - Novel Collection

It never used to be this cold. Those warm days I would spend hunting and running around in the forest that surrounded my small village. I miss those days, in the years between, my home has become nothing more than scraps of wood and nails. My village and everything around has become absolute hell.

The power of a spirit master

Fantasy · Jake_Draper

<p>Chapter 1<br/>A confusing point of view<br/><br/>If only things could be simple. If only the world we lived in made sense or was firmly planted on the ground. Maybe life is something you have to earn. Whether it be in the food we eat or the danger that comes from it, life isn't as simple as living. <br/><br/>"Can anyone here tell me the answer?" Mrs. Shaw asks, starting to lose her patience. <br/>"How about you Jennie? What drives the human body?" She says turning to the student in the back of the room. Everyone in class who wasn't paying attention, dozing off, playing little games with their friends who they sat next to all became silent. Some turned to me while others chose not to move their heads even an inch. The kids with short attention spans turned to books they didn't even know the contents of, hell they didn't even know the period they were in. <br/>"Well Ms. Teller?" Mrs. Shaw continues making the air even heavier. <br/>"Humans young and old, small and big all have a will. A will that when tested with survival chooses a path. The food and other fuels we need will inevitably rely on your desire to live. Humans are driven by what is needed." I finally concluded. The class remains silent. They all look at the teacher and I go back to laying my face on my arms. <br/>"Yes, though your answer was vague in the end, overall what you said is true. Humans need fuel." The bell rings after a tiny bit of silence. <br/>"Alright everyone, make sure you look over chapters five and six so you're ready for tomorrow's quiz." The teacher explains making the students grunt. "I know, I know." Mrs. Shaw remarks. <br/><br/>The hallways are as busy as ever. Students chose to not care about their surroundings as they talk about whatever and do whatever. Some teachers try to ask the students to calm down in the halls but after a long day it feels like you just took the cuffs off after several long hours. Kids bump into each other and I've even seen a kid break an arm. While the kid laid there crying in pain nobody cared enough to do anything. Usually this hallway would lead me right to the exit but my counselor asked me to come by every Tuesday and Thursday to catch up. I shove my way through the crowd feeling all their eyes on me. My forehead starts to sweat and my hands get stiff. Taking deep breaths brings me back. Eventually getting through the crowds became a little game. Which spot is best to squeeze through and who would be the most angry if you accidentally brush their shoulders. I like to play these games not just for fun but for survival. I eventually touch down on the counselor's door and head inside. The feeling follows me as I look around at all the people behind each desk. The layout of the office is a wide open lobby with doors leading to each counselor's individual offices. Sitting down I quickly look at my phone to clear my mind. <br/>"Ms. Teller?" A woman says loudly. I look up and head straight for my counselor's door. Before my hand reaches the door it opens quickly, almost hitting me in the face. <br/>"Oh I'm so sorry. I heard you had arrived so I thought I would open the door for you." She keeps apologizing as she invites me in. Her room is designed for comfort. Pictures of her family strung in the most visible spots. Her degrees are slightly above her computer. The furniture, very cushy and relaxing furniture. The room's color has a very mundane feel to it. Making it feel like everyday life. Though this room is built to feel real, I'm not buying it.<br/>"How was school today?" She asks.<br/>"Normal I guess." I say.<br/>"Normal? Well that doesn't sound like a bad thing." She replies. I nod my head as she goes on about life. Her words were nothing more than useless sounds. Words that I don't care to hear come straight out of her mouth into a room. I don't care to look. All perfectly designed to make others comfortable.<br/>"Well guess what, I don't feel comfortable." I blurt out loud. She stops going off on her speech to watch me as I stand up and start to leave. I make my way to the hallway passing the flat layout of the counselors offices. Opening the door is easy as no one was left in the halls. Like I was the last person on earth. Everyone had gone missing but I hear my counselor start to call my name. Her voice is growing closer and closer. I don't feel like running so I waited at the front of the door. She came into view after she turned the corner and her feet picked up as she started to jog over. Her breath starts to escape her even after such a short distance. <br/>"Listen, I understand what you're going through is terribly hard. You are being watched because of what happened. People can be very inconsiderate probably because they have never had something like this happen to them. I think talking to me or anyone you're comfortable with is a good idea. Well, except for your mother. Just make sure you reach out to someone you can trust."<br/><br/> The day ended with that echoing in my head. Nothing but thoughts as I headed out without a car ride home. My house is a few miles aways so it's not a huge problem. The only thing that sucks is that a walk leaves nothing but you and your thoughts. I forgot my headphones so I don't have music and the nature around here isn't exactly natural. Our area is kind of metro. It's a concrete jungle. I still remember the first time I learned that term. I was walking. I was walking with my brother. He said that this place is our natural habitat. A concrete jungle. He told me that if we were to be in a world without it our lives would be that much harder. It was during a time when I was very low. Our father died on the clock. It was the day I can't stand to think about. Our father was a genius. His smarts got him into a high paying research facility where they tested ways to travel through space faster. While he liked to tell us how his day was he never told us exactly what he was working on. One day he stopped coming home. He stayed over for multiple days before but this time was different. No contact with the house or any of us for days made us only worry more. Though he never said so, we could tell that his job was dangerous. He always mentioned new hires and how he trained all of them to do a good job. We knew the danger and did nothing. I don't remember what I was thinking on the car ride over. My brother was in a state of shock like he knew what happened. When we arrived at the facility the police were already at the scene. I remember the blanket but not the body under. I knew it was my dad but I passed out far before I got to see. By the time I regained consciousness I was in my bed but I wasn't alone. My brother was holding me as he slept beside me. Next, came the funeral.<br/><br/>"I know Jennie. You miss your dad so very much. He may not be here anymore but you will always have me and your brother." My mom was always so positive. Looking for any way to see the light in a dark room. I wish I had her eyes back then.<br/><br/>Years passed and I missed him everyday. By the time I was in highschool I thought less of him but I find myself up late still recalling what I saw. I think my brother was the main reason for my ability to function. <br/><br/>The trees still look like they did all those years ago. Tall and well kept. Even spacing between making for a symmetric pleasant experience for the eyes. It was right here where-. The trees start to spin and the gravity feels denser. My knees hit the floor but I don't feel any pain. All I could muster was to grab my chest as I breathed heavily. I can't stand up. I can't function. My eyes shift constantly trying to find a way to survive. I pictured my brother happily smiling as he ran towards me. The strain on my body faded away slowly as I put myself back on my feet. Well that wasn't normal. I think I need to lay down when I get home.<br/><br/>It's so quiet these days. Only years ago it felt like you couldn't walk down the street without seeing at least 10 people. Every year that went by it seemed like there were less and less. Our neighbors had to move only days after my dad's death. Just recently 3 people in our area left and they all said they were going overseas. Our house is close to the middle of our neighborhood. Since we're surrounded by lots of houses and because my parents lived here for a long time people know us. It only makes sense that we've made a lot of connections. <br/><br/>Most of my neighbor friends don't go to my school but they come over to hangout but it's been awhile since we all hung out. I haven't seen them around either. They all usually sit around after school on one of their front lawns. They have a sign that tells people to honk when they drive by. The neighbors were never fans of the constant honking so they kicked them off their own lawn everytime they did it. My friends are clever though so they switch lawns whenever they feel like kicking back and having a little fun. I joined them a lot since they always invited me. Coming up on Yearnew St, I heard a honk in the distance. I rush over and turn the corner. There they all are. Sitting comfortably on some lawn chairs placed on Hally's lawn. The lawn is well kept but has plenty of filled in holes from excessive lawn chair use. I remember her dad always being mad about constantly having to fill each hole in. Then he made a joke about how the chairs could've been used as both a weapon and shield. It was true since the legs were very spear-like. <br/><br/>I started to walk in their direction but froze. Their eyes. While gentle and kind now. They'll turn vicious won't they. It was my fault after all. It's better that they ignore me. It's better they all do. If they didn't I would truly feel as if I did nothing wrong and that can't be how it's remembered.<br/><br/>I take a little detour and eventually I arrive on my street. Our street is definitely on the nicer side. All Of our neighbors keep their lawns and trees well maintained. The bushes are well trimmed and I'll give you a dollar for any chip of paint. Every house has a pretty porch with little decorations. Standing in front of my house I think of a virus. We are the neighborhood virus. The grass hasn't been cut in weeks and we gave up on painting 4 years ago. Our good name is all but rubbish just like how our house looks. It doesn't matter how many good years you have when you have 4 bad ones.<br/><br/>"Mom! I'm home." I announce. I don't get an answer. Our house is what you'd expect from seeing the outside. Stuff all over the floor and it smells of dirty clothes and dishes. Pictures of our family are practically on every wall. We have an upstairs and basement. My brother's room is in the basement. He always liked the idea and he would often call it a lair but when he had friends over he called it a man cave. One time I tried following him and his friends down but the door slammed into my face. I cried for hours. My mom gave my brother a real talk and he apologized to me for what felt like all day. I eventually forgave him but that didn't stop him from acting differently when his friends were around. I was mostly ignored but I was never physically injured again. <br/><br/>I can't find her. I checked everywhere. The living room, the bathrooms, all the bedrooms, and even the kitchen. Guess I'll just sit and wait. The couch is still warm and there's an indent in the cushion. I can tell mom was sitting here all day. Our coffee table is a mess. Cups, papers, plates, and a note. Mom left me a note. "I won't be home till late. There's stuff in the fridge if you want something to eat. See if you can get some cleaning down." The note ends with a poorly drawn smiley face. Well even if she's too lazy to do the cleaning I guess there is only one person that can. <br/><br/>That took ages. The trash bags pile up so high they could probably catch the fall of someone skydiving. Our bin isn't as big as a garbage truck so we'll have to put them out more than once. That took 4 hours. I've always been the type to start something and then I won't stop till it's finished. All my family abused this trait of mine if they wanted something done quickly. My brother is the opposite. He'll take as long as he possibly can till the end of the deadline. My mom is more in the middle along with my dad. It's already 8 o'clock and I didn't even grab any food. I'm not really hungry so I don't think I'll eat. <br/><br/>It's fully dark and the moon isn't yet full but close. The stars have always given me something. I don't know what it would be called but it's just a feeling I get. I feel a flow and I can tell that whenever I look up no matter if it's day or night that the stars will always be there and I hope he will too. I go to my roof often for the best view around. It's a little steep so I make sure to stay cautious whenever I'm up. I used to stargaze with a friend till he moved away. We were in 6th grade and with my dad just passing I was nothing but a blank slate entering middle school. I didn't talk but for some reason I found myself engaged in conversation with Greg.<br/><br/>"Did you see the new show that just came out? I bet you thought the ending was weird. The way that guy died at the end. Oh I forgot to ask if you watched the whole thing. I kinda binged the entire show last night." I could hear him talk forever. He always went back and forward with himself since at the time I couldn't join him. He was always a very funny person.<br/><br/>"I winded up binging it too." I responded. That was the first time I had ever said a full sentence. A whole semester of middle school before I ever said a word. I still look back and wish the past was different. I still remember that day and the face he made. Like I was a baby saying my first words.<br/> <br/>After that day he insisted we hangout more. He once asked if I was busy but it was the day I liked to stargaze. I told him I was going to stargaze on my roof and he took it as an invitation. I didn't really mind so I didn't say anything. <br/><br/> "So, why do you look at the stars every thursday?" He asked.<br/>"Because it gives me something." I responded not knowing what else to say. I could tell he was confused but he didn't question further. That's what I liked about him. Even if he knew something was up he respected my private thoughts. <br/><br/>I still think about those times even now. Gazing up to the stars I have the same feeling I had all those years ago. I guess space has always been a calming topic to me and it was really the only one I paid attention to in school. Infinite possibilities truly means anything can happen regardless of how crazy it seems. The earth can be swallowed in a black hole any second. The sun could explode then elephants would jump to the upper stratosphere to shield us. It makes me feel a little at ease to know this, even if it's a double edged sword. </p>

Project Savage

Sci-fi · Jake_Draper