The Shadow Game – CH 1.

an embarrassing work written by a sixth grader. for curiosity's sake it is here, but any 
resemblance to events is coincidental and the work is fiction.

The Shadow Game  

– Chapter One – 10/06/04

 

My planet is Katia. It’s three times the size of the sun. Needless to say, it’s almost impossible to witness ¼ of the planet, let alone the whole thing. From what I’ve seen though-and I’ve seen more then almost anyone else-It’s the best place in the universe. There is no one spot that I’ve seen that isn’t filled with beauty and magnificence. But a few years ago, Katia was almost destroyed by a legion of creatures it created itself. Five years later the event was named The Shadow Game.

 

The sounds of the planet were that of any day. Dragons roared loudly across the plains, young children ran around vicariously with sticks, batting and chasing each other and occasionally slipping on a rock, the stream flowing with steady consistency, creating a natural ambience that echoed through the hillside. The sun shone brightly, casting itself over the tops of trees and making my small lonely shadow a mere silhouette in something that seemed much bigger and greater. I knew, despite the monotony of the day, that there was something wrong. Though some of Katia had been lulled into a sense of false security, my intuition would never lie. I investigated, of course. I always do.

 

My feet crunched over frozen branches that shattered like icicles, a remnant from the arctic night. Dawn had not set in enough to melt them. The trees seemed still. It was as if even some of the life-even if only the stationary ones-had some amount of sense. Sunlight saturated the tops of the trees, though they were so thick they only let small specks of fragmented light through the canopy. It didn’t take more then a few minutes of this for me to arrive at home. In early mourning I never venture far, in case I am needed, and I usually am.

 

The Crystal Bastion towered over the rest of Katia like a god admiring his handiwork. It was made of exactly what its name suggested, only the crystal it was made from was stronger then any other kind in existence. It needed to be, considering the dangers of having as much status as I possessed. The Crystal Bastion glimmered with pride itself, as if the whole tower was beaming with happiness as it looked onward admiring the forests and meadows that surrounded it. A door greeting me about three feet ahead. It was enormous, as it and it alone was the entrance and exit to the Crystal Bastion, save the few patios scattered around the Bastion.

 


 

The door was made out of impenetrable steel, setting it apart from the rest of the exterior of the Bastion, and a large lock rested on it laterally. It reflected the luminous light from the rising sun, and reflected it with almost purposeful aim into my eyes, causing me to raise my hand over them and saunter over to the door with some amount of clumsiness riddled in my steps. I reached out to knock on the huge handle bar, but it seemed as if my arrival was expected, as the enormous doors creaked open-creating sounds that genuinely made me believe that the door itself was on the verge of breaking of its hinges-my brother greeted me with an unusually grim disposition.

 

Nemaiz. Weetire, Scracious, noumous reious tou for fvar.” My brother told me, and waved his hand to urge me inside. I did not budge, however, and I placed one hand delicately onto my hip, nervous, (though I would have died before I showed it) because my brother was very unusually stern with me unless there were dire circumstances involved.

 

“I’d like an explanation of what you’d like to speak to me so immediately about, brother.” I told him firmly, as I started inside my home.

 

Gerss, Scracious, nem tounour.” He growled, shutting the doors with a surprising amount of force with a lever located a few feet to the left after entering the Bastion.

 

“Brother, I will speak in English if I desire to do so. And I would like an explanation.” I told him, remained just as firmly stern. He seemed to roll his eyes and snort of annoyance-maybe because of my astounding ignorance or his profound disapproval of the language I liked to use-English, which I had adopted a fondness for. He then commanded for me to follow him. I staggered after him, because my heart was beating into my throat with astounding velocity for what he could possibly have to say that demanded such importance. I did not admire the various paintings on the walls of the rulers of Katia before me then, nor did I bask in the wonder of how the crystals lining the inside of my home bounced off of each other to eventually created a show of light completely unique every day. I could only wonder if the suspicion I had this morning was about to be proven correct.

 


 

Earth. United States of America, Hawaii, Oaho, 7-05-05, 14:32.

 

The afternoon was always different for the Canine (KAH-nine) children. Neither of them went to school, for one of them was 24 and the other a 16-year-old genius who by no means needed such a thing as school, and since they were both rich because of the money left by their psychotic father, there were many different things they had the option of doing. Kittie Canine, who was the older of the two, sat today at the local starbucks coffee shop working and talking to her two closest friends on her webcam. She worked purely because she had nothing better to do.

 

The younger, however, of the siblings, Skitch Canine, roamed listlessly close to the shore, tossing stones into the water. If you’ve ever been to Hawaii then you’d probably know that it’s common to see just about anyone meandering the streets in a bathing suit, and the same was true for the two Canine siblings. It was only on rare or formal occasions that the siblings would dress fully in clothes. It was no different to Skitch. At a glance, he seemed perfect. His blond straight hair fell in a seamless line to about his neck. It was speckled with a few pure black streaks that made up the underlying layer of his hair. His eyes, like his sisters, were a pale turquoise.

 


 

Skitch, as he was lost in an infinite state of pondering why the ocean water was so salty, suddenly looked over to see a girl under a tree, her head cocked looking towards the streets with somewhat substantial amount of detachment. Her hands were rested on a book that she apparently had no interest in reading at that moment. She had fairly long straight hair that fell to her shoulders, colored a shade that was black or very close to it, and her eyes, her eyes were the oddest part about her. As Skitch squinted to look at them, he figured they could have been either brown, yellow, hazel, or green. As the light-which moved back in forth with the soft swaying of the wind-hit them, they seemed to change colors.

 

Fascinated, Skitch ambled over to her, figuring he would perhaps make some small talk to see what kind of a girl she was.

 

“Hello.” He said. He flashed her an innocent, heart melting grin that couldn’t be anything less then exponential. She peered upwards, though he could tell at a glance that her gaze was full of distrust.

 

 

Immediately, he wondered why, and so his desire to know her better was even more fueled. “What are you reading?” He asked affably, though the both of them knew that she wasn’t reading anything.

 

“Does it look like I’m reading to you?” She ventured, though without a hint of venom in her voice. Surely it was mistrust in her eyes, but seated deep behind it was an acute curiosity.

 

“Not exactly.” He replied thoughtfully. “But you were reading. I guess I’ll restate my question then. What were you reading?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Rising upwards, the girl set down her book.

 

“Touché. Though you want to know my name, fortunately I already know yours. You’re quite the notorious one, Skitch Canine. But what do you want with me?”

 

“Your name.” He replied, and this was greeted by an awkward silence.

 

“You win. It’s Keiree.” She shrugged, smiling.

 

“Nice to meet you. But I do have a question. Why are you reading? There are plenty of things to do here in Hawaii that you can’t do anywhere else, and well, wouldn’t you like to see them?”

 

“I don’t have any money, Skitch.” She said, her tone quieting. He only gave her a boyish grin.

 

“You don’t need money. I have plenty.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the ocean. The breeze pulled the smooth scent of the sea towards them. The white hands of the waves scrapped at the sand. Shells were left abandoned like old homes that are no longer needed. It was quite a sight, on that day. As matter of fact, you could have even called it abnormal. But Skitch didn’t consider such things. He only had eyes for Keiree, and his sight was increasing for her by the minute.

 
Kittie Canine was much like her brother. Her hair was straight, or it could have been curly, depending on the day and how Kittie wanted it. It was blond, though instead of having pitch black underneath, it was only blond, a pale, delicate blond, just like her features. She was of a decent height for her age, her eyes matched identically to her brother’s. Though once her skin had been so pale it was almost white, two years on the beaches of Hawaii had made her brown as a berry. She too, walked in her bikini. At the moment, she was walking back from star bucks on the right side of the road, which boarded the seashore. Tiny specks of sand dotted the road, tiny specks that had fallen out of place. By now the sun was setting. Pale light made the sky a deep crimson red, speckled with deep orange.

 

It was a bewildering sight-and it could put one in a trance for hours. Kittie watched it with some fascination, and she did not notice as from the left side of her a motorcycle zoomed past, and as it’s wheels rocketed through a puddle, the tiny droplets of water drenching Kittie all over. She snorted to herself, and as she was about to continue walking, the boy that had ridden the motorcycle rushed over to her. I call him a boy because he was, in my opinion, young, though that was about two or three years older then Kittie. His hair was about shoulder length and fell all over the place in a pitch black color. Somehow, it made Kittie pause for thought. He seemed familiar.

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that-you see I’m in a rush…Look, take this, kay?” He threw her his shirt. She blushed. She wasn’t expecting that, but she would have died before admitting it. However, before she could even muster up a reply, the boy was gone, his red shiny motorcycle gone, and only a storm of dust remained in its place.

 

Kittie had eventually made it home. She stood on the roof of the Canine Manor, and her hair blew back in the wind as if she was standing behind a fan. She liked to admire the world this way. The gentle waves crashed forcefully on the cliff below the house. You could see the ocean for miles away, and when there were thunderstorms, by standing on the roof it was possible to few lightning flashing far away in the distance. There was nothing that relaxed her more. Suddenly, she heard a voice from below her. She crept over to the side of the roof she could see whom it was. To her genuine surprise, it ended up being the boy from earlier. He looked ecstatic with joy, but the only way it was betrayed was by his bemused smile, and his eyes, which flashed with contentment. His arm rested on his chin, and he seemed to be waiting for her to do something. She appeared confused.

 

“Umm, would you like something?” She asked. He shook his head. There was a silent moment then, as if the whole world stood still. The tension Kittie felt was evident purely because her heart was thumping so fast. In the back of her mind, she knew who this was. But she couldn’t reach the memory. She just couldn’t. Finally, she said. “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”

 

“I will make it evident in one sentence.” He said, clearly enjoying this. A knot forming in Kitties stomach, and her heart pumping so fast she thought it might burst into a million little pieces, she said:

 

“Shoot.”

 

            “…Alright. Here goes. Kittie, I know it isn’t my place to say this, but I love you.”

 

At first Kittie thought he might be a stalker. But when the truth hit her, she went wide eyed with amazement. Never once in her life had she ever been so completely shocked then that right moment on the roof. The truth hit her like an ice cold rag, shocking her, freezing her all over. And the only thing she thought before she fainted was: No. Fucking. Way.

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