Raven's Rants

Chapter Two and a Preview

2008-07-17T19:39:42Z

OK, so here's chapter two from Benji's POV. I must say, I like writing Benji more than Eve. He's rude, which is fun to write because I wouldn't dream of being that mean. Well, he's not completely mean, just meaner than me. But anyway, I have this chapter, and I have a preview of a rather long one-shot I'm writing. I'm thinking it's going to be between 15 and 20 pages. Hopefully I can cut it down. I'm on page 8 and it's only 1/3 of the way through. So let's see how this goes. Here is chapter two:

Rainbows and ~~Butterflies~~ Rain Clouds

By Raven Alexandra

Chapter Two:

Benji’s POV:

You have got to be kidding me.

The basement is this weird pale yellow color with kid toys everywhere. Child-size chairs are set up in front of the 60 inch plasma, which is a plus, and action figures—looks like G.I. Joes or something—are in a big plastic bin next to a Barbie dream house. From what I can tell, the couch is a pullout, so there’s my bed.

I drop my suitcases on the floor and flop onto the leather couch, stretching across the whole thing. Not bad, I think, but I could be sitting at home, in my own room, minus all the kiddy crap. I can’t tell if I feel bad or not about being an A-hole to my uncle. He was just trying to be nice, I guess, but I really don’t need to have ‘happy chat’ with adults right now. Because as far as I’m concerned, adults suck. Big time.

I sit up and pull my suitcase towards me, rummage through it, and pull out my iPod and speakers. These suckers are loud, let me tell you. I plug it in and blast Muse. I love their stuff, it’s all crazy and totally messed up. Like my life.

My mom only let me pack two bags, so I’ve got a regular suitcase for clothes and other essentials, and a black duffle stuffed with anything else I could shove in there. I take the duffle and pull out my posters, some crazy Tim Burton stuff and Muse ones. I don’t have any tape, so instead of going upstairs and asking for some, I take down the family photos on the walls, and use the nail to hang my posters. Good. Or as good as it’s going to get.

The room is still an obnoxious yellow, but I figure if I pull all the shades on the tiny half-windows, I can darken the room and hide the cheerful color.

I can hear footsteps upstairs, but I try to ignore them, like I try to ignore my grumbling stomach. I want to go upstairs and get some grub, but I am definitely not going to if it means seeing that smiling family, all waiting for hugs or some other sappy thing like that. When I first walked in the house, these little midgets—okay, they were kids—ran around me, giggling and laughing like mad. It was so freaking annoying. And then this motherly woman, who I’m guessing is my Aunt Aisha, was smiling and holding out a plate of cookies. “For that long journey,” she’d said. Oh, gag me. Milk and cookies is such a cliché motherly thing to do. I didn’t know people actually did that, to be honest.

I lay down on the couch, listening to Muse shout, “You know that I don’t want you, and I never did! I don’t want you, and I never will!” Yeah, story of my life.

The front door slams shut, and I’m thinking, Finally, the house to myself. I stand up and creep up the stairs, listen hard for any noise. I don’t hear anything, so I creak open the door and look around. The place looks deserted, so I stand upright and try to find my way to the kitchen for a bag of chips or something to hold me over. And who do I see in the kitchen?

Jakob.

Greaaat. Just perfect. I try to back up slowly, like maybe he didn’t notice me, but it’s just my luck that he says, “Benjamin.”

My shoulders slump as I walk back into site and say, “It’s Benji.”

“Wow, you finally say something without a sneer.”

I roll my eyes and hop up on the barstool by the island. “So, what’s up?”

I’m thinking Jakob is this pushover guy, the kind that acts all tough but is really this huge softy. He’s tall and bald, which is not intimidating at all, and I know he’s not going to yell or anything. Oh, oh, oh, am I wrong. I see his jaw clamp tight and he glares at me. Pure evil. Okay, so he has every right to be mad. Here he is, this big family man who gets his kids and wife all ready for my homecoming, and I go and ignore them and lock myself in their basement. Not exactly a good first impression.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Uh, obviously not, dude. Well, okay, so I’m an A-hole. Big whoop.

“We take you into our family, set up a room for you, cook you a welcome dinner, and all we ask for is a little respect.”

Ah, yes, the old ‘respect me’ lecture. I know this one.

“And you disrespect me right off the bat. My wife has everything set up for you, a room with a bed and a plate of food for you, and you decide it’s not good enough for you, so you get up and take over our basement. Well, let me tell you, buddy.”

Ooh, he called me ‘buddy.’ I wonder what that translates to swearwise. Probably something rude, but I doubt this guy has ever sworn in his life. He wouldn’t, not this guy. A guy who adopts all these random kids and raises them in this cookie-cutter house.

“You are a member of this family, and you will be treated like everyone else. If Aisha says you’re rooming with our seven-year-old, then you are rooming with our seven-year-old. Got me?”

“Roger that,” I say.

Jakob looks a little pissed at my words, but it’s not like I’m trying to be rude. I just have up a natural defense, at all times.

“Jake?” a woman’s voice calls out from the living room. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, hun. Just getting things settled.” He gives me one last look as he walks out of the room.

I draw designs on the island with my fingers, waiting for the return of The Big Daddy. I know he’ll be back, most likely to write up more rules for me. What a waste.

Instead of Jakob walking back in, it’s Aisha. I didn’t notice when I first got here, but she’s this really tiny woman. Like, I could probably rest my chin on her head, and I’m not even that tall. Her hair is long and brown, a plain color if you ask me, but she seems nice enough. I feel a twinge of guilt at how I treated her.

“Uh, hi,” I say lamely. Wow, where did I learn my wonderful verbal skills? The SAT people will love me.

“We’ve come to a compromise about your living arrangement,” she says in her quiet voice. She takes a seat across from me and pushes the now-cold plate of cookies towards me. I figure I better start being at least tolerable, so I take one.

“What’s the plan?”

“You can live in the basement,” she begins.

Oh, yeah. Who wins? I do!

“But you have to let the little ones in the room during the day so they can play.”

Not what I planned, but it’ll have to do.

I stick out my hand and say, “Deal.” We shake on it, and I swear I can see Jakob standing in the corner with a smile on his face. Weird.

“Well,” I say, “now what do we do?”

Jakob came up behind Aisha and put his hand on her shoulder. “We could set up your room so you feel more at home.”

I shrug like I don’t care. “Sure, whatever.”

We all troop downstairs and start taking apart my suitcase, looking for my sheets. I must have forgotten to bring them with me from home, but luckily the Sims bought this nice black set with red trim, which is darkly awesome. So we put that on the pullout bed, get some old pillows, and put the covers on those as well.

“Looks like you already started decorating,” Jakob said, pointing to my posters. “You like his movies?”

“Tim Burton is a friggin genius,” I say.

Aisha stops mid-tuck and looks over at me with wide eyes. Jakob looks serious as he says, “We don’t tolerate language in this house.”

“Opps, my bad.”

“We’re serious, Benji.”

“So am I.”

Geez, what do they think, I’m stupid? Yeah, I can understand that they don’t want me to swear since there are little kids around, but I’m not responsible for my language if I stub my toe or something. Give me a break.

I almost ask if there’s a closet or something where we can shove the toys, but when I see Aisha fixing up the Barbies so that they’re all in a neat line, all in their doctor/cheerleader/nightclub outfits, I decide not to.

With my dark sheets and comforter, the room doesn’t look so cheerful, which ironically cheers me up. And the best part is there’s that huge TV with a Playstation 3. Score!

“Oh, Mother Dearest!” a chipper voice calls out from upstairs. Who the hell is that? “Your darling daughter is home!”

Aisha laughs and calls back, “Oh, so Eve is here?”

“Humph!” is the theatrical reply. Another voice laughs loudly.

Aisha sees me staring at her and explains, “That’s my daughter Rowena. Eve O’Reilly is her friend, who’s like another daughter to me.”

Wow, even when she isn’t someone’s mother, she still acts like it.

The next thing I know, Aisha is grabbing me by the arm and pulling me up the stairs. “Come and meet her.”

Yes, because I am dying to meet your high-on-life daughter and her giggly friend.

When we get up to the door, the word short is redefined for me. If I thought Aisha was short, I was wrong. This chick—who I’m assuming is Rowena, by the looks of her bouncing up and down all happily—is definitely under five feet. Now she is a midget.

“You must be Benjamin,” she says in a high-pitched voice that can get seriously annoying.

“Benji.”

“Where’s Eve?” Aisha asks, looking around. “Wasn’t she just here?”

I look out the glass door and see a girl with flaming red hair get inside a gold Nissan Maxima and drive off.

“She said she had to go home because her mom needs her or something,” Rowena says, though she looks nervous when she says this, like she’s covering up, maybe.

“Well,” Aisha says, clapping her hands together, “The little ones should be home at about six, so why don’t we start setting up for dinner?”

Finally, food.

And here I have a preview of my one-shot, tentatively titled either Double the Trouble or Double D's. I don't really like either title, but whatev. Here:

"No offense, dude," I say, "but you're a dude."
He blinks. "And why would that be a problem?"
"That means you've got as much fashion sense as a gorilla."
He barks out a laugh. "And you're better?"
"Touché ."

It's not much. Just a little random excerpt. But it's fun to write, and hopefully I'll finish soon, and then I can get back to RaRC. Until next time.

Cheers,
Raven

RaRC Chapter One

2008-07-15T16:03:43Z

OK, here's chapter one. It's not brilliant, but it's OK.

Rainbows and ~~Butterflies~~ Rain Clouds

By Raven Alexandra

Chapter One:

Eve’s POV:

Ever since I met Rowena Sims in the fifth grade, I felt more like I belonged to her family than my own. There’s nothing wrong with my family. In fact, we’re probably the closest to perfect as you can get, and I don’t mean to sound conceited. Sure, my dad is always flying off to one place or another, and my mom is never home, usually out on a shopping spree with ‘the girls.’ But it’s nice to be a part of the Sims family. Just me, Rowena, little Tomas, and the twins, Sonja and Beatrix, like one big family. Of course, I also count their parents, Aisha and Jakob, and sometimes they feel like my own parents.

Aisha and Jakob have got to be The Nicest People Known to Man. Honestly, why else would two successful thirty-year-olds adopt four kids? Aisha acts like a mother to all children within a ten mile radius. And Jakob is like the Wise Old Man of the Forest. If you have a problem, it’s common knowledge that Jake has the answer.

And the kids, Tomas and Sonja and Beatrix, are the cutest things ever. The twins love to get in trouble, and Tomas is such a sweet little thing. He’s had a crush on me ever since he was three. I remember one Valentines Day—he must have been five—when he gave me a dandelion and said, “A pretty flower for a pretty girl.” I knew Rowena must have told him what to say, but it was so darn cute that I had to give him a kiss and keep the flower. I actually still have it, pressed away in an old Shell Silverstein book.

But being part of the Sims family is definitely more exciting than my own life. Now, as I walk up the walkway of the manicured lawn, I can’t contain my excitement at meeting the newest member of the Sims family. From what I heard, Aisha’s sister was having some trouble with her son, so she’s sent him off to live in Holberry with the Sims, hoping he’ll learn a few life lessons or something.

I don’t bother knocking on the door or ringing the bell, I just walk right in. I expect there to be people running around, getting ready for the welcome dinner, Sonja and Beatrix chasing Tomas just for the heck of it. But instead, it’s . . . silent. I look up the stairs to see that the light is off, and ahead of me is the kitchen, where Aisha and Jakob are sitting at the marble island, talking in low voices.

“Did I miss something?” I ask, taking cautious steps up to the two. They look up at me, startled, like they forgot I was coming over or something. I smile and they return it, somewhat strained.

“Ro Ro is upstairs in her room, if you were wondering,” Aisha says, still upset.

I give the two a tentative smile, but leave them alone. I figure they don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering them. For some reason, I have a feeling it’s about their new guest—Brian? Brock? What was his name again?

I take the stairs two by two, reaching Rowena’s room by the bathroom, and I walk right on in. The room can only be described with one work: pink. Everyone knows Rowena is a girly-girl, always shopping and doing her hair or nails. After knowing her for six years, I can’t say she hasn’t rubbed off on me. The bedspread is white with a large pink carnation on top, the pillows are the furry pink kind, and she has a shag rug in, what else, pink.

“Hey, Ro,” I say, seeing her on her beanbag chair, twirling her black hair around her finger idly. “What’s up with everyone? It’s like a ghost town.”

She jumps to her feet—gracefully, like always—and shoves me down in the chair. Then she slams the door shut and dives down into Indian Style at my feet. “Oh, my God, if only you were here earlier!”

I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be?”

“Two words: Benjamin Locke.”

I stare at her, trying to figure out who the hell she’s talking about. After about five minutes of her looking at me with an eager expression, I say, “And I’m supposed to know who that is . . .”

A hand shoots out and slaps me.

“Ow!”

“Duh, silly,” Rowena says, as if she didn’t just slap me upside the head. “Benjamin is Aisha’s nephew.”

Ah, how could I forget that name?

I sit up and get myself comfortable, knowing Rowena is warming up for a huge story. She rubs her hands together, her tongue sticking out between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s excited. She’s practically bouncing up and down.

“Okay, so here’s the scoop: Jakob goes down to the airport to pick up dear Benjamin. He’s got on a shirt that’s actually ironed and creased in all the right places, so you can tell he’s expecting to be respected and all that. And what does he get? A total Class A jerk! Benny Boy comes off the terminal, takes one look at Jakob and his bald head, and walks away. Now, Jake knew what Benjamin looks like because we got a picture from his mom, but I don’t know if he knew what Jakob looked like. Am I going too fast?”

I shake my head and motion with my hands for her to continue.

“Anyway, Jakob has to run across the airport to get to Benjamin, who’s practically running away, and finally, Jake gets him in the car. Benjamin totally ignores every ounce of small talk Jake throws at him, so Jake just shuts right up. And then they get home and Benjamin finds out that he’s supposed to share a room with Tomas, and he just stares at us like this.” Rowena showed me a deadpanned look, her mouth in a grim line and her eyes lifeless. “And he goes, ‘Is there a basement?’ and we’re obviously like, ‘duh,’ so then he takes all his stuff and heads downstairs. When Aisha asked him what he was doing, he said, ‘I’m going to my room. Don’t call me for dinner.’ Can you believe that?”

The first thing I think of is, It’s a good thing their basement is furnished. The second: What a jerk.

“What’s his problem?” I ask, furrowing my brow. Seriously, the Simses are nice enough to take him into their already-full house, and he treats them like crap?

“Well, you can imagine what Aisha’s going through,” she says, shaking her head sadly.
“So that’s why they’re upset.” Now I’m getting madder. Aisha and Jakob are the most caring people ever, and this moron comes in, acts like a total brat, and upsets the entire household. “Why are the kids so quiet?”

“They’re at a friend’s house,” Rowena explains, getting up from the floor and walking over to her vanity. “Aisha figured they didn’t need to be here incase a fight broke out or something.”

“Do you think there will be a fight?” I ask as I watch Rowena dab on perfume and reapply lip gloss.

She shrugs. “Maybe.” She turns to me with a big smile on her face. “All I know is that there is a sale on jeans at American Eagle, and we are so there.” She grabs my arms and pulls out of the chair.

Rowena has been like this ever since I can remember: a total shopaholic. It’s a good thing the Sims have money, what this Jakob being a computer genius and selling a program to Microsoft, which earned him more than a few bucks. She’s constantly at the mall, even if it’s not to buy, she just walks around and browses. “It’s my exercise,” she often tells me. And I guess I’m not better, having been on all major shopping sprees with her. You can probably say that cute clothes are my weakness.

“Time’s a-wasting, my friend!” Rowena shouts.

I laugh as she drags me down the stairs and out of the house. I can’t help but notice that there’s some music coming from the basement as we leave. I wonder what kind of guy Benjamin is if he likes Muse.

Rainbows and Rain Clouds

2008-07-15T15:54:40Z

OK, so here's the deal: I'm going to start posting my story basically because my friends want me to. So it'll be set on Public (Everyone) and all that jazz. I'm a bit iffy. I mean, I'm still in the process of writing AND editing. I edit as I write, which means this might take a while. But I'm about to re-edit chapter one, then I'll post it here. And if there ever is a huge change in a past chapter down the line, I'll repost it and bold the edited version, just so you all don't have to reread the whole chapter again. And I'll give a forwarning if there's a big change as well. The thing is, I'm still working on Benji's background. What makes him the way he is? So I've changed about five minutes ago (while I was reading Cry, the Beloved Country, which is a bad thing, since I couldn't pay attention to that book, but whatev.) so I think it's a go now. Hopefully. So I'll stop rambling. Oh, wait--this is the info on it:

Title: Rainbows and ~~Butterflies~~ Rain Clouds
Summary: A troubled teen, Benjamin Locke, comes to the small town of Holberry to live with his aunt and four adoptive children. Niamh (Eve) O'Reilly, a small town girl, has the perfect life: wonderful family, great boyfriend, top grades. But when there's trouble in paradise, Benji is there to show her that life isn't always rainbows and butterflies, because there's always a rain cloud lurking somewhere.
Rating: PG-13 (because I'm paranoid and Benji is a bit fresh)
Genre: Romance/Drama
Comments: I will finish this. Everyone who reads this, please please please badger me to finish. Please. I'm on my knees! (And now the Oscar for best grovel goes to . . . Raven!)

And just a little warning, the first chapter is so iffy, because I was struggling to get Eve's character down pat, and she's kind of hard to write. I mean, she's got the perfect life, which I don't have, so forgive me if I don't know what that's like. Don't worry, she'll seem more human later.

Cheers,
Raven