Hey, just a small town girl with big ambitions. A school librarian by day and an Author by night. I love entering new worlds and sharing them with other, whether it be a book I'm reading for a book groups or a story that I am telling.
The Eighth Trial
IN 43BH, EVERYBODY OVER THE AGE OF TEN could recall where they were and what they were doing when the world ended. For most it was sudden, over in a matter of minutes, but for others it lasted for eternity, or it seemed that way. A lone few had predicted the destruction of the ancient world long before its demise. So called cults and fortune tellers had been mocked for their asinine predictions as far back as 102BH. The earliest record of an apocalyptic prediction was found in the Old Bailey documents of 125BH from Madame Toil, an old wise woman, described with a hunched back, frazzled hair and twenty cats living in her one room caravan. She preached the word of her Lord, cautioning all that would listen of the approaching day of judgement that would see the beginning of eight deadly trials. Nobody paid her much mind, except for one lowly journalist that needed a story to fill the small three-inch gap in the next day’s newspaper. Eighty-two years later judgement day came. Little is recorded of the first trial. Survivors were in the hundreds in the less populated areas but those that did survive had little motivation to write a lasting and credible account of their ordeal. Those that did, wrote to discussion columns and trade magazines. Travis, 28, from Leicester, recorded in an engineering trade magazine ‘the earth shook, the very foundations of Earth’s crust splintered into shards of gravel and dirt. Great cities, where underground networks had destabilised the surface, were reduced to rubble. Our only salvation was the hard ground of the midland’s peninsula’. The second trial, the global pandemic, was the last of the first seven trials to be documented. Only two recorded accounts remain. A reassuring message of hope and strength from the British Prime Minister, written sloppily by a harried and under experienced journalist from the Daily Mirror, and a quickly scribbled missive from the Director of NHS England to the Prime Minister detailing the rapid spread and high death toll as of 2084 - 43BH in modern day terms. Only two weeks into the pandemic, the death toll was a catastrophic eighty-two million globally. One third of the first trail survivors perished in a week and more would follow. The third trial, known only by oral stories of survivors, was simply panic. The rapid spread of the virus and high death toll threw the globe into chaos. Governments broke down, schools closed, shops were looted and law and order was shattered. The fourth through seventh trials are little known, oral accounts of which were lost through time. The eighth trial, however, is widely documented. It is still widely written about and debated amongst professionals in the field. Classified as the most important event to have happened in the last millennium, the eighth trial holds the fascination of the modern world and the dedicated examination that comes with it. Beginning in 4BH, the eighth and final trial, the trial of war and power, finally brought about the end of the ancient world and the dawn of a new era. Accounts dating from 4BH to 1HE, the beginning of the modern world, are detailed in a way that most pre-modern documents were not. Eye witness accounts were written in remarkable detail by the founders while the tales of great tragedy and great heroics were still fresh in their minds. One such tale stuck out from the others and is widely considered the beginning of the Eighth Trial. Early in 4BH, sees the beginning of James no-surname-recorded’s journey, detailed below and written in collaboration by Obwole, Obwole, Lavische and Patrelli.
The sand was coarse and rough in her hands. It scraped across her palm, getting stuck in the crevices between her fingers and trapping itself under her fingernails. Its reflective pale yellow colour hid its nefarious intentions. This was not the island paradise that the beautiful yellow sand suggested. It was harsh, cruel and dangerous.
Previously Aiden and his followers sprinted out first. James hurried out after, not wanting to face his man’s glare alone. He hurried back into their room and to his bed. He ignored the grins from Aiden and his followers, the disgusted looks on the girl’s face and the sympathetic looks from the other three boys. James tucked himself into bed, turned onto his side so he was facing the wall and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him away.
Previously Once their food was finished, Nixie packed away the stove. The flammable items went into Noah’s bag while the rest went into Nixie’s. And then, they were ready to go. James, once again, was setting off to find Praesidium and his new future. His destiny.
The shadows were encroaching into what little light there was in the room. The dark was dominating. Items were strewn around the room, blocking the light and creating more darkness. Furniture. Dangling curtains and curtain rails. It was all evidence that life had once existed here. Newspapers. Letters. Photographs. Fancy wall paper was peeling from the walls and there were shadows over the damp patches. Everything was rotten and greyed with age.
Previously - Meanwhile, James was searching through his third house. He was proud of his hoard of supplies. He had found some new clothes for them ready for the approaching warmer weather. The first house had a whole supply of canned food. Some of the cupboards and the fridge were starting to grow their own eco systems from the moldy food but most of the cans were okay. A scream pierced the silence.
Previously The lights were on the top of a large building, lighting the building up against the darkening sky. And underneath was something that made James’ heart rise. There, painted on the side of the building in bright white paint, was a bear.
The Land of Imagination
Fighting a dragon, toppling a dystopian government, falling in love with the one and learning that standing out is far better than blending in. That was my Monday. Tuesday, I went on a road trip, visited a vampire at a circus and recovered a missing lightning bolt. Oh the excitement! The adventures!
A Single Moment in History
Harriet ducked into her room silently. She crawled through the shadows until she reached her bed. She jumped from her knees and landed on top of it, sending a cloud of dust and dirt into the air. She coughed as the dust entered her lungs. She placed a hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to silence it. Her breathing settled and she froze, watching and listening for any sign of movement. Was she noticed? Did they know that she was there? She hoped not.