I finally decide to post something that I wrote! this is old, but i decided to let everyone and anyone read it! It's public!
This is the prologue and the first chapter of my newest story Crash&Burn. It was inspired by Ouran HSHC's author, Hatori Bisco, what a genius she is. There was a short story in the back of host club called love egoist and i took it from there with a few "minor" adjustments.
So enjoy and review with if you'd like!
It's mostly unedited like the other things I've posted *if at all*
My editor person pretty much just reads and tells me what she thinks of it. and then she tells me what i spelled wrong. But since i only use word i know how to spell and use the dictionary when I'm stuck, i think it's okay.
......I don't really know what to say after this.

Prologue: Acceptance


It’s just ironic to me that I’ve never been accepted for what I really am, but I’ve been accepted into one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the continent, let alone the country. The morning I tore open the envelope was unknowingly one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made, but yet I benefit from every mistake. Let it be mine, yours, or some random kid across the street. How specifically was it the worst? Well, you’re reading this to find out aren’t you, you little spies.

July 7th
I woke up on a sunny July day, the one you can sip lemonade on all day long under an umbrella. The trees were green from chlorophyll and whatever the hell I didn’t care about to learn in biology and other sciences. There’s more irony to the world than you could realize without me telling you. And by that I mean that humans only see what you want to see. What’s “normal” to them. But if you open your eyes to the possibilities and what’s real you’ll either see supreme evil or a delightful and prospering garden full of wonder. Ah, screw the second one, we all know things such as that don’t exist except for the dreams of the innocent.
By noon, I’d already circled around the estate five times in an interminable walk to pass the time away. That’s what everyone does. Pass the time away until there’s no time left to pass. Ever since I was little I had always been this way. Some say paranoid. Some say eccentric. I say it’s my own tempo. Own tempo, regardless if it leaves an image of a musician in your mind, was the ability or sense to do things apart from the majority. “Profoundly” the world seemed to have a majority combo of BORING know it alls and moronic lazy bums. The background was silent, even the singing birds knew their measures of rest. Only the ruffling sound of emerald leaves kept me at ease, knowing the outer world hasn’t funny come to an apocalypse.
I entered through the door that was always left unlocked. Misarelle knew that no one ever came to Chrysanthos Estate. Well no one unless if you count me, myself, I, Misarelle, and the mailman who has to deliver our mail. There was a single envelope labeled with “Millicent C. Dinthalion” in silver ink on the sleek black surface. So this was what true black mail looked like. When I held in my grasp, from the back of my neck, doubt whispered to me as if through telepathy. At the second my thumb pressed onto the sticker sealer thing that enclosed the letter, the creased opening opened. Just as it should have when I took the time to physically tear it open. But instead an unknown force was breathing in my air. Something that shouldn’t have happened on a “nice” summer day like this one.
Opera-like music played in the background, a personal favorite of Misarelle’s. Wakeshima Kanon’s new single. I figured if it sounded appealing to the ear, despite not understanding a single sentence of the song, go find it on the internet and blast in through your house. It set the perfect mood, as if universe intended Misarelle to get hooked on vampires just for the moment I tore open my acceptance letter.
And on that day, I was admitted to Enchord Academy.
Oh glory.



Chapter ONE: So Long

Enchord Academy was a boarding school for all girls, but still there was an all boys’ school right across the street. To be exact, the two were sister schools as far as I know. The third one was somewhere remote that no ordinary road trip could get you accidentally lost there. You’d end up for the wolves and bears.
Satisfying enough I have no idea where to start on what I’m telling you right now. You’re probably glad that I finally stopped babbling about how disappointed I am in the miserable world and wondering if I’m goth, emo, or punk, or a combination of the three. I slammed shut my suitcase. To the destination, I didn’t know, besides the physical area. A premonition engrossed my into thinking that there was obviously going to be conflict in a school full of hormonal teenage girls with overdoses of ego and arrogance. There was a fork that split into two paths on this simple choice. But in the end I knew that I wouldn’t know if I would be right or wrong to choose my own. And that end, would be the same end as everyone would face. Death. I’m no fool. There was never one correct path through life. Hell, I swear the next time that someone tells me how to live my life, I’ll tell them that even different directions lead to the same end. And I was going to have to face it HEAD ON.
I was never going back to following without question. I tried it out once, so no one could say “don’t knock it till you try it” to me, but I didn’t like my life spinning out of my own control. I tried it. I hated it. Despised it. Unlike the typical narrator of the story, I have now broken the fourth wall. But that’s not all, I knew myself without going through this epic adventure between the forces of good and evil, fighting fire breathing dragons called stuck up clique controlling bitches, whether it be at a high school (how cliché) or a magical crone in a real faerie tale.
Delicately, I placed my MacBook Pro into the metallic colored computer case. No way I was going to school for a whole year without it. I would rather be an empty headed girl of a clone than leave my computer home. Or whatever I was supposed to call Chrysanthos Estate. Scratch that. I would never leave my computer anywhere, and it would be Ragnarok if I would become one of those kinds of “people”.
The assurance in myself would drain out the moment I stepped foot onto Enchord. It wouldn’t be the same as being home-schooled. But then again, I was never schooled at a place I was comfortable with calling “home”. A place to call home was something I never would know of. I was orphaned seven years ago when my parents, Anastasia Valadistos and Lir Dinthalion, disappeared from the face of my world, how small as it may have been. I blinked in the short but vast memory of the last vision I had of them. My mother’s flowing black hair was always in the back of my mind. No. It wasn’t black, it had faded into dark-chestnut. The way it blew in the wind, the wind of the past, was just like the way mine did. Except mine was in the present except and it was black. For my supposed “salad days”. Her emerald eyes were piercing through my dreams, the exact same each time. My father’s ice blue eyes, which I inherited, reflected the sardonic motive that remained unknown to me this very day.
The striking part of this “everyday” tragedy was that they knew that they were leaving me. For good. It was “black mail” once again. In a black envelope, lined with silver writing, and addressed to me, said a farewell well intended for the ten year old I was, the “little girl” I was.
And from that day I was sworn to attend Enchord Academy this year. This exact year. The air felt chilly between every single strand of my black hair. Through the window blew the winds of new beginning. There was definitely going to be some major symbolism explained in my literature class.
By me. I shook the egoistic thoughts out of my head as soon as I detected them.
This is gonna be one long school year. I jolted down the stairway, almost knocking over Misarelle as she held a flower pot for who knows why. Great, my guardian is trying to get rid of me the day I got back to school. Life’s screwed. I would say “go to hell” but I’m already there. “Oi! Are you trying to kill me with those dagger eyes of yours?”
I raised my eyebrows and scowled invisibly and said with sarcasm, ”Loki’s sake, man. I thought you were the one trying to get rid of ME for MY fortune.” Okay, that was a false accusation. I fully trusted Misarelle, this is just part of my sense of humor. But humor me, people didn’t get me at all. Miz set down the pot (haha, not that kind of pot) on a crystal table, no doubt left by my parents.
“I’ll miss that cynical air you give this place. Promise me one thing, only one thing, and you can just forget about little old Miz.” She wrinkled her nose. I never knew why people treated me better than Misarelle. She was 23, and still had the energy of a sixteen year old, and I was me. Me, in this context was a sour and bitter girl that always got judged on the outside instead of the inside. And my insides were twisted too much to untangle. Outside, people would say that I was pretty, beautiful, poised, refined, untouchable, a glass doll. What am I? Furniture?
I’ve always though in mind what my “family” said. “I’d much rather be hated for who I am than be loved for what I’m not”. My mother said that to me after a ball when I was five after she had spoken to a clique of gossiping ladies. Her expressions were fake and no one could see through them, like the other side of the ice during the winter where the pond surface has been frozen. There were two reflections, the one on top, and the one on the bottom, haunting your conscience, the thing that pulled beneath the surface. It was so easy to see through that ice, in the middle of the barren wasteland. Insecurity was the wall that blocked the vision in others. Like a mist, crawling with the heat, how easily we confuse what is real with what wasn’t even there.
Anastasia, she lived by that line. My father lived by it. Misarelle lives by it, she was raised as my sister, not a maid. You could say she was adopted, but my parents hadn’t lived to see the legal papers come in the mail. Miz’s past was a blur to us. We didn’t question anything when she was brought home that faithless day. The sky was filled with dust and untrue words. Again. She wore a thick beige coat, covered completely with the white snow that was supposed to be pure. But it wasn’t. It was tainted with madness. The only thing I remember her saying was that she wanted to know the truth instead of wonder why. I understood fully. Even to this day. Maybe one day the correct trigger will help her, and let her hold on even when she tells me. I wouldn’t know if she never told me what the silence was about. Never would I let her go out of her mind when all the words slip out of her lips like an eruption.
I’ll be damned if there is an idiot who doesn’t get this hint. No, It’s not a hint. It’s a straightforward ego breaker.
“Hallllloooo?! Hell to Milli! You wanna hear this or not? Or do I have to kick you out already?”
“Heinh?” I sighed obnoxiously. She smirked, humming an incantation like tune, somehow it gave me the vision of a moon, drawing in the background everywhere, having the time told by a grandfather clock ticking seconds away from an unknown abyss. “Nothing, I was just thinking about some things. What kind of promise?”
“Promise me you won’t get lost in that dark. Remember when Anastasia told us? That dark. Don’t ever lose sight of who and what you are. Why you are, when you are, and don’t get lost in the woods and get eaten by wolves, that would just take all the effect out of the WHERE factor. You don’t need another person to make you happy, its just you and you alone. The only time when you smile that matters is when you’re really smiling, not that fake kind of shit Lady Priss gave mother. Our mother. Screw government papers, I was already a part of the family before that. And I think I came into your family for a reason, not some random family, but this one, it was meant to happen. And it’s meant for you to go to Enchord. I have no idea why in the world why, but that’s for you to find out. What’s the probability of an EPIC storyline unfolding there?”
I blinked in disbelief, “One eighth, Twelve point five percent to be exact.” But I really did feel strange pulses that something was about to happen. Maybe I should have reconsidered the percentile. When things go too perfectly, things generally happen. And generally, those general things happened during the night, where the moon is the fullest and powers of the mystical kind are amplified.
“Yeah, yeah, just write and reply to my emails.” Okay, I’m just gonna cut out this mushy scene that would have made the weak minded go “Awww” or something very cheesy like that because no one really wants to see this, do we? It’s annoying when you write in a moment that further bonds people and end up having a chorus of annoying little brats commenting behind the scenes and munching on badly flavored popcorn and sipping their over caffeinated sodas. Its just something you don’t want to see happen every page, no?
Before I get off subject, I’ll say that we hugged, said out last farewells and I sought out the sleek, black taxi slash limo, all my bags were stuffed into the trunk with room to spare before I noticed that I had left them upstairs minutes before. That annoying ticking noise from that grandfather clock just wouldn’t stop ringing in my mind. The wind started to pick up again. Imminent as always, this premonition wasn’t just a normal one, as “normal” as those really are.
And what a beautiful day it was. To get lost in the dark. I left Misarelle at the door, not looking back. I couldn’t help but grin. I was such a sadist and masochist, wasn’t I? The lush green feeling tingled between my fingertips. Willow and oak leaves caught in the gales, tumbling and turning like waves from Serenity’s Peak, where Chrysanthos Estate was built on, with the lake side to add to it’s apparent beauty and uncanny grace.
But there was one more thing before the driver electronically slid the sun-glassed windows shut.
Dead leaves.
It was still July……….. These were the last evil cliffhangers I saw on Serenity’s Peak. Who knew what were present in Enchord Campus. I sure didn’t.


-END-

Well I know Whitlock wasn't in this chapter and all the fangirls just want him, but how was it? It's been awhile since i wrote this so I cant remember every angsty detail.