Storyteller [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1

Heyy I hope you all like my story!  BTW the pic on the side is of Abby.

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Everyone in The School for the Talented fears the basement. Sure each of us had been in there at least once but no one more than I. Not for misbehaving or for not meeting certain requirements, but for telling stories. Something as harmless as that can sentence me to at least a night there. The dark, cold basement where the rain seeps through cracks in the wall and you can hear rats scurrying around at night. Rumor has it that a girl died in there but I seriously doubt it, I know the basement like the back of my hand and I would know if there was a skeleton in there.

But being there is worthwhile because it gives me more time to create stories. Everyone loves them, even the boys. They all crowd around my table at breaks just to hear them, the girls like the ones about romance the most and the boys like the adventure ones.  But they don't actually tell them for fear of the basement. Typical I guess. Me? I love it there. Not just for the time to create stories but I get to do things like this, sort out my thoughts. Then when that is done, I usually write in my tattered little journal that I keep the most precious of them. An odd memory of my long dead parents, a small section of a story, or sometimes the things I simply hate about this life I  have been given.

I'm disrupted from my thinking by the door creaking open ever so quietly, slowly filling the room with light. "Abby?" whispers a familiar voice. "Abby where are you?" "I'm over here Marc," I whisper back curling up against the wall away from the light. Marc sighs and closes the door behind him. He sits himself down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders protectively, "More storytelling?" I nod even though he can't see it, "What else?" He laughs quietly, "As always." I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, "You could get in a lot of trouble for being down here Marcus." "Not as much as you." "Touché"

I sigh and push him away, "You should go. I know that you don't like it down here." "It's ok if you're with me," he says objectively. "Just go!" I say laughing. "Oh but I can't. You see, I got myself in trouble just so I could see you." "Stupid boy," I mutter. We spend a few long moments in silence before Marc decides to break it, "Tell me a story?" This is one of the many things I love about Marcus, he asks for a story when no one else is around to hear it. I don't know why I like it so much more but I do. "What kind?" I ask. When he doesn't answer I close my eyes and begin anyway.

"It was one of the coldest nights England had ever seen and Mary wandered through the streets searching for warmth. She stumbled through the snow numbly pulling her tattered cloak around herself more tightly. She turned down another alleyway and leaned against a wall tiredly rubbing hands in hope that she would regain some warmth. She sunk down into the snow and curled into a ball. "This is how I will die," she whispered to herself as the snow slowly covered her tiny body. She drifted in and out of sleep, barely noticing anything but the stabbing cold that made its way through her thin clothes and chilled her to the bone. It was not long after she finally fell into a deep sleep that Zane appeared. He took one look at Mary before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his house. He placed her gently on a couch in the sitting room and covered her in warm blankets. He stayed by her until she woke groggily."

I'm interrupted by a sharp rap at the door, "Abigail, you're time is up," says the voice of the dreaded Miss Hanson. "And I suggest to you, Mr. Cole that you do not sneak in the basement again to accompany her." I turn to Marcus who grins sheepishly. "Yes Miss Hanson." he says smugly. I sigh and make my way to the door out of the basement with Marc close behind. The door opens and I shied away from the light slight before continuing out. Miss Hanson throws Marc and I a look that says, if you're smart you won't do it again. Poor Miss Hanson, she knows that I'll keep my telling my stories and that Marc is always going to sneak into the basement to see me.

Marc takes my hand and we make our way back to my dorm. The moon shines brightly through the large windows that we pass and I can't help but marvel at its beautiful glow, the same glow that I have. I've always known that I was special, and that's why I'm here, why we're all here. Everyone at this school has some sort of special power, like how Marc's is that he can disappear. But so far all that I can do is make up stories or glow softly. Marc says that I'll be something really special, that I'll be the best that this school has seen, but how can I be when I don't even know what my 'talent' is?

I trail along behind Marc, still marveling at the moon, until we reach my dorm. "Night Abby," he says placing a kiss on my forehead. "Night Marc," I whisper backing into my room slowly. "I'll see you in the morning." I close the door behind me and turn to see my roommates' faces grinning at me. "You two are so cute together!" exclaims a blonde called Hanae. "So cute." mimics the red-headed girl on the bunk above her's who we all call Shorty but whose real name is actually Elisabeth. "C'mon guys give her some respect," says the brunette, Natalie. "After all, she did just get out of the dungeon." I roll my eyes, Nat always exaggerates. "It's a basement Nat, get it right," says Shorty rolling her eyes too.

I get changed into my soft pjs with the Tweety Bird picture on it and climb into the bunk above Nat. "I don't know how you can stand being down there," Hanae whispers to me. "I mean, it's got rats right?" I sigh, Hanae's always been a clean freak. "You don't really notice unless you listen really hard." I whisper back through the darkness. Well I guess it's not entirely dark seeing as my skin still glows softly, like an angel Marc says. I close my eyes and try to sleep peacefully but as usual, I dream about the night that Marc's and my parents died. I relive it every night.