Author's Notes: I have absolutely never written this many words for a chapter. Ever. I've also never felt this strong of a drive to stop kidding myself and actually write something down. It's an idea that has been floating around my head for a little while. Now, I'm going to admit, I've been trying to come up with many other plot ideas; however, this generic one seemed to stick a little better.
Anyway, it would be amazing if someone would sit down, read this, critic it, and tell me whether or not it would be good enough to continue. I love collective criticism, but if you make me upset and tell me all of the reasons why I suck at writing, I'll keep writing just to annoy you. On top of that, I'll actually finish the story and feel good about myself. So, ha. But, in all seriousness, I would love to receive tips and corrections to make me a better writer.
My name is Doodle Bandit and this is my first novel. Read on, good luck, and "may the force be with you" (Lucas).
Disclaimer: Anything you see here that you recognize as a brand or product is obviously not mine.
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Every now and then, he would see her enter the bookstore, her long, brown hair swept out of her dark eyes. Her pink lips would always be curled in a determined smile and she knew exactly what book she was after. In the past six months, he had seen her pass through that door countless times. She always left with a single book, but days later, that one book was not enough for her growing library.
"One has never been enough for me when it comes to books," she said, handing him a couple of dollars for the paperback, "could you believe that?"
In his mind, he answered he could then proceeded to ask her to join him for coffee after his shift; however, he would only smile, nod, and hand back her nickels and dimes. He wasn't very good at talking to a pretty girl who happened to enjoy reading and staying at home instead of going to parties to drink. When she would walk out the door, the bell above would chime mockingly at him for letting this girl get away once again. Knowing her book addiction was the only encouragement that he had another chance to finally ask her out for that coffee, he remained content of the secret relationship he planned to have with this girl. He didn't know if she would say yes, but he was fine with a polite no, because he knew he would still see her roam around the bookstore on the corner of 7th avenue.
Walking home after a long and exhausting day, he was sure he saw the girl outside of the bookstore for the very first time. She was sitting on a park bench in the middle of the community park, eating something from a brown bag, and completely focused on the book in her thin hands. He so much wanted to approach the girl and say hello, but his nerves flooded and drowned his confidence and he quickly passed by to his apartment complex just around the bend. Someday, he told himself, I'll say real words to her. He briskly went up the flight of stairs to his floor with the idea of finally confronting her on his mind. His confidence levels were so high, but it was all too late. Maybe in the morning, he thought while entering his apartment.
Thinking back, he knew he was never good with women. Even in middle school, he couldn't breathe a word to the girls that asked him for a spare pencil or the answer to question seven. He would be obliged to help out; however, he would only silently hand them his only pencil or show them his finished worksheet, allowing them to copy all of the answers so they wouldn't have to talk to the wall again. In reality, not only was he afraid of the strange female creatures that surrounded him, he also greatly admired them and found it impossible to even be worthy enough to speak to one of them. In his eyes, every woman was a beautiful goddess perched up on the highest pedestal for every man to admire. There was no difference among these girls. He saw the same beauty of every single girl he came across of and each of them seemed to take a tiny piece or two of his heart. Nevertheless, he could still never find the words to say to any of them.
Years had passed, pieces were returned, and he had learned to make eye contact and smile, a couple steps up to those pedestals. He gained confidence growing up as well. From being a quite small boy, he hit his growth spurt late, but finally stood at 5'9". He grew into his large nose and stuck out ears, so he was finally able to trim back his dark hair so he didn't have to hide his entire face anymore. The awkward kid that still didn't have the heart and willpower to speak to a girl had evolved into a handsome, young man.
When he entered his apartment, he noticed his roommate, Liam, was already home, sleeping on the couch and snoring softly. Shutting the door behind him, he surveyed the familiar abode. To the left from where he stood, he could see dishes and food on the counter in the kitchen. To the right, he could see inside his roommate's room and the heap of clothing and other commodities upon his bed.
No wonder you're on the couch, he thought and chuckled softly.
He pulled off his jacket and hung it and his keys on the wall. The jingle of the metal aroused the slumbering man. Liam sat up and looked over at the culprit of the disturbance, knowing that noise of keys almost too well.
"Ah, shit," the man mumbled thickly, rubbing his eye, "I overslept again, huh?" Liam blinked his eyes to recover from his nap, or possibly, the only sleep he'll get that night. Seconds later, he made eye contact with the other man and grinned. "I don't need that crappy job anyway. Plenty of places will hire me. Ain't that right, Noah?" Noah crossed over to the couch, pushed Liam's legs on to the floor, and sat down. Completely ignoring Liam's question, he looked around a moment, then sighed and reached in between the couch cushions for the remote, pulling out an empty soda can with it.
"You really need to clean this place," he muttered. A large, manly hand pushed his shoulder and the impact drove his arm into the rest of his body.
"Shut the hell up, Noah," and that fiasco ended quickly.
Noah had learned that keeping the arguments to a minimum would save him from a trip to the emergency room with a broken nose and busted lip. William Barrett was not an individual to be messed with. At 6'3" and 210lbs, Liam promised himself years ago that he would not end up like the millions drowning under fat and skin. He took satisfaction in his vanity and if it wasn't clothes that were buried in his room, it was various dumbbells, muscle building protein, and shake-weights. Noah was sure that when he first met Liam his first year of college, his head had the same diameter as Liam's left arm. Now, two years later, the arms had grown and so had Noah's fear for the well-built man. Every once and a while though, words would slip out that were much too harsh for the sensitive man, and Noah would receive a "well deserved" punch to his arm or stomach.
Noah didn't think Liam was a bad individual though, because if he did, he wouldn't consider moving in with him his second year of college. Liam proved to be a nice asset whenever Noah needed someone to talk to. Despite Liam's large bulk and short fuse, he was studying to be a counselor and knew a thing or two about talking to every kind of personality. Liam was also a funny and smart guy, and on a good day, he could take a joke and laugh about it. Noah didn't want to take a chance, because even while the man could be in a good mood, anything could set him off. It was getting better, though, but it would still take years to work on.
"Sorry, man," he muttered, pretending that it didn't hurt despite knowing it would bruise. He quickly changed the subject back to work. "I wish you came in today. There were boxes I'm sure you would have loved to lift over your head." He didn't want to see if this pressed another one of Liam's buttons, so he stayed focused on the remote's buttons. He flipped to the news, unable to find anything to watch. Liam, to his surprise, chuckled and sat up.
"Were they too heavy for your puny arms?" Liam punched his arm again, gently this time. Noah winced and rubbed the tender spot.
"Yeah, I guess so."
The next day, Liam didn't lose his job, and he was able to carry in boxes of books that Noah was unable to lift. Noah stood behind that cash register, stamping new books with the appropriate stickers. Every time Liam would pass through the doorway, Noah would look up, hoping it was the girl on the hunt for a new book to add to her collection. He was sure that with the amount of boxes still sitting on the sidewalk, clearly labeled "NEW BOOKS", would lure her in to take a quick peek at the new paperbacks. She never peered inside though. In fact, that last time he saw her, when she was sitting on the park bench, was the very last time he would ever see her again. Days passed and Noah would remain behind the register, watching the door. If he wasn't up front, the chime of the bell above the door would send him flying toward it. He was always sadly tricked.
Noah did not go into any deep depression or endure any mood swings, but a tiny piece of his heart this goddess took was now lost out in the world somewhere. A part of him was sad that she stopped coming to the bookstore. Maybe she found a nicer bookstore, with more books to keep her coming back, he thought. It sparked jealousy for the next person that gets to know that little information about the girl. It was all he knew about her though. The other part of him was angry at himself for never learning her name. If only I wasn't so shy, he said to himself, I bet she has a beautiful name.
A week later, after another day of work, he stared at the empty park bench while walking home. He imagined her sitting there with the last book she bought, munching on something from her brown bag. He could see her twirling her finger in her hair, but completely absorbed by the book's words. The image disappeared as suddenly as it formed. He sighed and hurried around the corner. His fingers were already looped around his keys in his pocket when he was coming closer to the sandy brown apartment complex. Just another corner and he could cross the parking lot. He wasn't expecting a full house of vehicles in the parking lot that cool afternoon since summer break meant people home for vacation. He was hoping he could cut through the lot easily, like he did every night after work, but before he could even step a foot on to the asphalt, he turned the corner and was blinded by lights of the patriotic array. Now, it's not every day that you come home and find multiple police cars and an ambulance sitting in the parking lot; however, Noah had seen this sight before.
A year and a half ago, the police were called for domestic violence in room 208, a few doors down from Noah's apartment. Someone finally called after countless nights of screaming and crying heard throughout the building. A boyfriend was arrested for beating his pregnant girlfriend after she came home each night without a job. The deadbeat was too lazy to go out and get a job himself, but he wasn't lazy enough to keep his hands to himself. He remembers peeking out his door in time to see two husky policemen hauling the boyfriend toward the stairs. He was thrashing around, but there was no possible way he would peel away from the two men. Noah caught a glance of his face before he was brought downstairs. He would never forget how much anger he saw in the man's eyes. Weeks after, the girlfriend moved away and room 208 was rented out by a nice couple with a cat who still seemed to cause a disturbance among residents. Now, yelling for the cat to shut up was the only commotion echoing through the two story building.
Something about this collection of emergency vehicles had Noah on edge though. There were way too many policemen around to say that this was a normal, routine call. He also noticed the amount of people outside, either peering down from the second floor or standing outside the barrier of cars. In the distance, Noah could see the back of Liam's head and thick neck. He ran over.
"Liam," he breathed, out of breath already by just a quick jog, "w-what's going on?"
Liam was looking forward; his large arms crossed against his bare chest. It seems that the commotion woke him from another nap through his shift at work. His face was visually tired, but also very grave and troubled. He didn't look at Noah's face when he spoke.
"They found a girl dead in room 124."
Noah went from winded to not breathing at all. A goddess had fallen off the face of the earth and now danced in the stars. Noah was sure that he and this girl never crossed paths; however, he felt that she had some significance in his life. There was a buzzing in his ears and he felt his stomach flop upside down. The people standing with them were talking quietly amongst themselves. An older woman was crying and so was a small child. A man was talking loud enough for Liam and Noah to hear.
"I wonder when they'll tell her parents," he said to the woman next to him, assumed to be his wife, "I heard she was only a sophomore in college."
"She was so beautiful and bright," the woman replied, "what a shame. I feel so terrible for her family."
Liam sighed and looked at Noah, "I'm going back to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Noah nodded and watched his roommate walk away. Soon after, Noah followed. The police and the ambulance pulled out moments later and the people scattered back to their apartments.
The next morning, Noah turned on the television in time to catch the story on the news. Her face was on his TV screen. The picture was forever burned into his mind. She was smiling back at his distraught face when the remote fell from his fingers to the floor. From her dark long hair to her rosy, pink lips, he felt that she was standing in front of him, handing him money for a book. Her name was Sophia Grey, she was 19, and she was the goddess that was taken away.
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Author's Notes: Well, there you have it. I suppose if you question on why it took so long to name Noah, while I was writing, I still didn't have a name for our shy hero.
Now finally to the end point of the chapter, it's weird to visualize later chapters that would like to include. But, of course, I did not make an outline before I started writing because I wanted to see how a chapter would play off. Whether or not I'll create an outline will be up to whether or not I want to keep writing. I'm never good with scheduling, especially when I decided it would be a "great" time to start writing a month before my senior year starts. But, who knows. We'll see.
If you have read through this all, thank you very much for allowing me to take some of your precious time.