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PANDORA'S BOX - Chapter 1

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PANDORA'S BOX
CHAPTER 1

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PROLOGUE

      Everything is rushing past him. There is no turning back. the alarms are ringing. The lights are flashing. There is sweat dripping down his face. he can hear voices from all around him. he can hear gun fire echo in the long dark halls.
Men are yelling to each other.  who are these men? No one knows. he slips past the corridor and into the large, wide hall leading to the exit. men continue to fire at him as he runs in desperation for his life. he throws a grenade, and it blast's open the large sealed door a head of him. he run's for his life in the pouring rain, in hopes that they will never find him again. his name? Jona's Smith. But this is not about him, It's about Jon.

CHAPTER 1: ANTI-SOCIAL

      It's now morning. The sun was rising east of my head, and was giving of a
peaceful, morning glow. as I turned in my bed, I tried to fall back to sleep, but my heart's pacing with the alarm of my clock's buzzing did not help. I slowly as I sat up, the bed creaked and the alarm seemed to be coming closer to me.
I pounded the alarm with a quick movement of my fist, and the rather bothersome
sound it produced stopped. I slowly wiped my face, removing the dust, and I slowly
moved into the bathroom, with the covers dragging behind me.
      I turned the brass faucet on the left, which sent the warm, brown water to the sink. After a short shower and a refreshing shave, I headed out of my room into the front room, where my mom was getting ready for work.

      I continued by raiding the fridge for anything to eat at school today,
but I was unable to find anything worthy of my mouth. So, in a rather saddening and grouchy voice, I called for my mom.
      "do we have anything good?". But she simply replied with a mumble, and headed out the door to work without hesitation. I was considering asking my father, but I did not want to wake him up, as he was drinking all night and he probably has a hangover. So, I went to the bread box to see if there was any bread left to make a sandwich. of course, all that was left where the ends of the loaf. Letting out a deep sigh, I grabbed the two slices and searched the cabinet for some peanut butter.
      "But of course..." I mumbled. all that was left was chunky butter, "bleh."
See, my mom loves crunchy peanut better, but I only like creamy. But I was sure I would be extra hungry if I did not make myself something to eat, so I used it anyhow. Than I went back to the fridge for some jelly. I don't really care what kind
of jelly, as long as it was not that 'apple jelly'... luckly, we had grape jelly. I pulled it out of the fridge and placed it on the counter next to my other items. Now, I needed some silverware. I was not entirely sure what drawer they where in, because my little brother often times finds new places to place things. I pulled out all the drawers, and the last one happened to have one knife left. But I could not find a spoon. I looked all over the drawer, but to no prevail. so, I was left to use a dirty spoon from the dishwasher, which was also dissatisfying. I quickly washed it off in the sink and stuck it into the jelly jar, scooping out the purple sugary goop and placing it on my bread. I spread it around so that the whole side of the bread was covered in jelly, and continued to do the same thing with the peanut butter. After putting my sandwich together, I placed it into a plastic bag, and than continued to gather some helpings by raiding the cabinet. The first thing I looked for was some chips, and sure enough we had some. it was Nacho Cheese, in fact. I grabbed some and placed it into a plastic bag, and than hit the fridge one last time to grab the very last Capri sun. Than I gathered it all together and stuck it into
my lunch pale. afterwards I dragged myself back into my room and grabbed my jacket and backpack. Looking back at the alarm reminded me I had 6 minutes to get to the bus stop! I quickly picked up my backpack, dragging it on my shoulders. I
grabbed my lunch pale and quickly headed out the door. My partially determined face quickly turned into a frown when, in the distance, I saw the bus passing by.
"oh joy, another day, walking to school..." I said to myself with a sigh.

      When I arrived at school, I got greeted by the school bullies, who where wondering where today's lunch would come from. I handed them what little cash I could, most of it being change. but they where not satisfied, and took my lunch. No,
not the one I spent making that morning, but the one I made the night before. see, I had cleverly made two lunches so one would keep the bullies occupied, while the other would keep me without an empty stomach. The lunch given to them was held in a thin, brown paper bag, and was filled with rotten foods - to complement the same, rotten minds. When I entered the school, I could hear voices coming from the respective classrooms, and the halls where rather barren and motionless. I quickly, but carefully sneaked across the hallways to my locker, and than scurried off to my class room. When I reached the door, I stopped and slowly reached for the handle. Than, gently, I turned the doorknob, turning it to a position where I
could quietly open it and get to my seat without anyone noticing. When the teacher turned around, I took action. By the time the teacher  had turned around, I was quietly sitting in my seat. once he had noticed me, He gave me a quick,
disgusted look.  But than he continued with his lesson.

      "okay than..." Mr. Bulsha stated. "how can we apply what we have learned today about Asia to our own lives?"  a few hand's went up, and Mr.Bulsha slowly turned to see everyone who would give him an answer. But than he focused on those who would most likely not have the correct answer. It seemed as if it was a habit of his - he gives you a good grade if you can simply raise your hand, or none if you don't. Knowing Mr.Bulsha's techniques, I kept my hand raised. This time, however, he called on me to share.
       "Jonathan." he bellowed, piercing at be before turning around to fully look at me. As I put my hand down... I hesitated. Than I mumbled something...
      "Speak up.." Mr.Bulsha suggested "we can't hear you.". I looked down at my
desk, and back up again. I was not sure what he expected me to say, But  I tried to give him an answer anyway.
      "...Our lives...would be worse without them?" Just than, One or two girls chuckled, and a few guys got large smirks on their faces. The teacher looked me strait in the eye and said, with hesitation:
"good". And than added: "Anyone else?" Just as he called on someone else, the bell rang.
      "John, stay." the teacher bellowed. He than reminded me and everyone else that there was a afternoon assembly.
When everyone had left, Mr. Bulsha got a rather serious face on.
       " What's wrong with you?" He said in a rather harsh, but worried voice.
"If you keep coming late, I'm gonna have to flunk you!" He continued.
      "but..." I added.
"No buts! One more
time within he next week or I will have to send you to the office and call up your parents. Clear? "I answered with a resounding "yes". He than walked over to his desk and sat in a convertible computer chair, shuffling papers for the next class.
       "good. See you tomorrow, on time." I did not really care about his threat, because no ones gonna do anything about it - but I'd rather Be the good guy and do what he says over deliberately skipping. So, I traversed through the halls,  
through the large condensed crowds to my next Class, math. There, I was greeted by Mr. Benson.

      "Hey john." he said, turning his head smiling.
"hey." I replied, throwing my binder across the table with a "thump". The room was set up with 4 tables in each row, and there where 3 rows. I sat down in my spot, the second desk on the first row, in the left seat. I spent the next minute or so staring into space, until someone caught my attention. Her name was Tiara,
A warm hearted girl with a great personality and a great, smiling face. I watched her in the corner of my eye as she walked toward her seat, two tables behind me. She had soft, velvety brown hair, with sparkling blue eyes and a great smile. Her skin was a tad dark, but it only helped complement her eyes better. I had to remind myself to stare forward, but it helped more so that the bell had just rung.
      "okay class...." Mr. Benson started "Today we are gonna learn about slopes." Mr. Benson than walked towards the overhead, and placed a piece of clear paper on top. On it, where four small graphs. He than plotted four dots on one of the graphs. "what is the slope of the graph?". My left hand quickly raised into the air, without hesitation. After Mr. Benson scanned the room, he turned to me and *winked*; letting me know that he understood I knew the answer, but wanted others to have a chance. "Eric?" A boy across the room started to answer. "it's two over three." "very good" Mr. Benson turned around and wrote the answer on the overhead. "Okay, now" he continued "what is the Y-intercept?" This time, most of my class mates raised their hands.
      "Tiara." He called. I turned around and looked at her as she answered loud and clear "negative one."
     "correct." Mr. Benson said, writing the answer down as he smiled. "Now, I know some of you already got this down."
Mr. Benson said with reassurance "but some of you don't. So today we are gonna work on getting everyone caught up." Than Mr. Benson than Pointed at the class. "all of you can chose your partner, and as soon as everyone's settled I'll get you all started." Not knowing what to do or who to pair with, I sat in my seat patiently until there where a few candidates left. "Who doesn't have a partner?" Mr. Benson asked as he walked towards me. I stood up, and looked around. It seemed as if no one was available. But than, suddenly, Tiara slowly stood up, looking at me. "John and Tiara" Mr. Benson ordered, as he pointed to both of us. He than had us move to my table, And than whispered "I know neither of you are not gonna have a hard time on this assignment. So just get it done and hand it in, okay?" after saying what he felt he needed to, he stood up strait and walked away to help the other students.

      Me and Tiara did not really talk much. we both filled out our forms as we were directed and where ready to turn them in. but just than, the fire alarm went off. I'm used to the screeching noise , but for some reason I was out of it. As soon as I got up I tripped, falling flat on my face. "are you okay?" Tiara asked, as she helped me up. I partially mumbled, and than let out a "ya...thanks." As she helped me up, I blushed. But I continued to walk out as instructed. The alarm continued to get closer, than farther away as I walked down the hall. As I exited the building I could hear a lot of commotion from those looking at the school's roof. I continued
to walk away from the school, to the point that I could see the roof. On the right back corner of the building there was a large fume of smoke, towering what must have been twenty feet into the air. we continued to wait and stare for another 5
minutes, and than the fire department arrived. Large men in yellow suits ran out of the large, red fire truck and into the school from the right entrance. It was only two minutes before the firemen came back out, with one young boy in one of the
firemen's hands. Another one of the firemen came up to our principle, Miss. Wilconson, and whispered in her ear. Than all the vice principles and the principle herself huddled and discussed something related to the damage. A few students gave funny looks and where curious as to what was going to happen next. It seemed like we waited there for hours out in the cold, spring day. Than, finally, the teachers came towards their respective classes and started instructing.
      "Hey class?" Mr. Benson started. "It seems there are repairs to
be done." we all started looking at each other expecting something big. "Those of you who ride a bus, please stay here. If you walk home, meet up in the front. you will be permitted to leave when the busses arrive."

      Than, it became mass chaos. kid's went scurrying everywhere. I quickly climbed though the large crowd, ending on the left side of the building. I ran, my heart pumping and my mind racing, to the end of the school bounds. Ignoring the instructions, I ran clear across the school boundaries and into the empty street. After I ran a good distance away, I started walking. Unfortunately I was getting closer to a road block, which I had not seen before. "Weird..." I murmured "that was not here this morning..." after standing there for a few seconds, I turned to the right and started walking down a narrow path into a small, neighborhood
forest. But the deeper I got into the forest, the more convinced I was that someone was following me. Out of curiosity, I turned around. But no one was in sight. I as I turned back around, I heard a rustling of leaves. The Next thing I knew, I was hit with a metal bat, and everything was gone.
Okay, it's here. Pandora's Box is a story I thought up out of the blue one school day. I started writing it, but never finished.

I actually have started a lot of stories like this, but I thought the ideas where too cheesy and no one would want to read it. Luckly, someone came to the rescue and convinced me it was a great idea, and that I should persue finishing it.

So....Here is the first chapter. Maybe there will be a chapter 2... and three... it all depends.

and FYI, this chapter is only to establish the situation of the story. After this chapter things will get much more interesting... :)

Revision number: 1.1 (1.0 had spelling mistakes galore...)
Comments1
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Mitch-el's avatar
First, I think you have a great opening here. It’s fast-paced, hectic, and energetic, but also equal parts solid and engaging in presentation. We are introduced to Jonathan in a perilous situation and are invested in the apparent fact that it is he whom the story will be centered around… until the prologue flips the dime on its head and proclaims that another character, not yet introduced, is the main focus. It’s interesting and unexpected.

The beginning chapter proceeds to paint a simple, but fairly lucid, picture of the morning’s events — a boy, who’s living situation is not exactly the richest, is unsuccessfully resisting the inevitable. I like how you described the alarm clock, in particular, comparing the boy’s heart beat with the buzzing of the clock, as well as illustrating the intensifying noise as a character in itself… seemly drawing nearer and nearer to the boy as the alarm becomes more bothersome. Very clever. I do think that you could have done with less of the word “slowly”, however, as it is overused. Similar synonyms would have added more variety and flavor to the scene (e.g., instead of “I slowly moved into the bathroom”, you could illustrate it as, “the daybreak felt like a 50 lb. weight as I pulled my sagging body from the warmth of the sheets and into the bathroom, the bed covers dragging behind me like an attached, faithful dog…”).

Nice conversation between the boy, his mother, and the food situation in the kitchen. You don’t need a ton of words to have a knowing understanding between two or more characters, and you emphasized that strongly here. The mother is frustrated and the father filled with drink, and you convey that with little to no actual dialogue between the characters. That’s great!
How you describe the boy’s morning is relatable to readers because it feels real. You seem to have been taking life experiences and inserting them into the story. That’s a good thing here, because we take what we know from our life journeys and apply them to art. Again, it feels more genuine. Additionally, I like the little narrational “quip” of, “I was unable to find anything worthy of my mouth”.

Great moment with the bullies. You would know what it’s like to deal with them, and I liked how Jon outsmarted the jerks via a decoy sandwich that complemented their demeanor. Heh. That’s pretty good.

Funny that you named the teacher Mr. Bulsha. Sounds like “bullsh*t”, which pairs well with his personality. Whether or not that intentional, it was a good choice. I do think that this particular teacher’s frame could be more developed, though — his dialogue is a bit generic and predictable, and his temper escalates too quickly.

When our character walks into the next class, you describe in some detail which seat he takes. This information isn’t necessary as it does not propel the story forward.
How you introduce Tiara is sweet and heartfelt, and I like how you molded Mr. Benson’s character (he feels more real and genuine than Mr. Bulsha). It’s cute how you put yourself into the character of Jonathan — he’s quiet, keeps to himself, reveals his smarts in the right subjects, admires the sweet girls, and is a bit clumsy. So cute. :)

I found it really interesting that the fire incident was handled as almost an everyday occurrence. There isn’t much pandemonium or panic initially and is treated as more of a curious happenstance than anything, which tells something about this world. I was a bit confused, however, at Jonathan’s sudden burst of momentum to leave the school and not listen to instruction, especially since it was implied that he preferred to do the right thing regardless of how he felt. Perhaps he just wanted to get home as soon as possible, which is understandable, but the manner in which he did so seemed out-of-character to me.

Overall, you have a good thing going here, and I’m rather saddened at the fact that you never finished the story because the idea and set-up are interesting. But I’m glad that you at least gave it a shot and finished a chapter! Your bee thinks it’s good and is legit promising! :)

Also, I took a look at some of your other works in your gallery and you really do have a nice handle on color, depth, and, of course, graphic design. The “Red Cross” poster could pass for a professional advertisement. I’m not even kidding. It looked like another add on deviantArt and I actually had to click on it to see if it was, indeed, yours. Great job, sweet heart! <3