Elizabeth Mueller is hosting the Breaking the Rules blogfest today. The idea is to post your rule breakingest stuff. Now, I'm not one to break the rules very often, but I did have one rebellious moment. ;)
This is one of the many discarded openings for my current WIP, Embrol. Some of you might remember it, since I posted it here about a year ago. I was pretty pleased with it then. Funny how much my perception has changed.
In this one short scene, I broke the don't begin with a dream rule, don't begin with waking up rule, and don't begin with dialogue rule. Plus the writing's pretty crappy and the dialogue's pretty lame, so you have been warned. And besides all the rule breaking, there are several reasons this opening didn't work, including at least one plot hole. So it was banished to the darkest corner of my hard drive, and I honestly thought it would never see the light of day again. Yet, here it is. :)
“Faster. You must move faster.” The deep voice echoed through the void, propelling me forward, giving strength to my weary legs.
Terror coursed through me. I had to keep moving. Protection of the medallion enclosed in my hand was crucial. Sharp points dug into my palm as my grip tightened. I raced toward the light ahead, the darkness close behind, devouring everything in its path. The medallion grew heavier as I neared my destination. I struggled to maintain my speed. Failure meant the end of everything. I was sure of that. Almost there.
“Livy.” The world around me wavered at the sound of my mother’s voice.
My eyes swung to the right, then the left, searching for her. A sheer drop-off, on either side, marked the edges of my narrow path. My breath caught, but I didn’t slow down. The urgency to reach the light intensified.
“Livy, wake up.”
The world wavered again and disappeared.
I opened my eyes and groaned at the video camera hovering inches from my face. “Ugh. Go away.” My hand closed around the lens, and I shoved it back, pulling my pillow over my head. The pounding in my chest slowed, her presence reducing my anxiety.
My mother laughed. “On this day, eighteen years ago, Olivia Noelle Ryan was born to Thomas and Lily Ryan in the great state of Arizona. And there was rejoicing throughout the land! Today she is officially an adult. Would you like to add anything, Livy?”
“Can’t I sleep in for once?” I lifted the corner of the pillow and opened one eye. “In fact, to celebrate the joyous occasion, I should probably stay home from school. Turn the light off on your way out.” I waved my hand toward the door, letting the pillow drop. Would I have succeeded if she hadn’t woken me? Why do I care? It was just a dream.
“Don’t be such a spoilsport.” She laughed as she pulled the blanket off me.
I reached for it too late, and it fell to the floor. “Hey, it’s freezing!”
“Come on, time to get up.” She gave me a quick swat on my backside. “You’re going to be late for school. Being an adult means being responsible.”
“Seriously, Mom. Are you starting on that already?” I pushed myself up to a seated position and rubbed my eyes. “Would you please turn that stupid thing off?”
“You used to love this part of your birthday.” Her lips pulled down as she turned the camera off, her smile reappearing a second later. “I made you some birthday French toast, if you’re interested.”
I covered a yawn. “Tell me again. What makes it birthday French toast?”
“Because I made it on your birthday, silly girl. Don’t be too long. It’s getting cold.”
“'Kay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I studied my palm as she left the room. Three tiny drops of red marked where the medallion had pierced my skin, forming the points of a perfect equilateral triangle. I wiped away the blood, and it seemed I wiped away the wounds as well. That’s not possible. I shook my head. Like wounds from a dream are possible. Figures I’d lose my mind on the day I finally turned eighteen.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the other entries here. :)