Friday, 27 May 2011


Hi! Sorry for not posting a story yesterday. I've been really busy because I've go a brass band solo competition this Sunday! For those of you who don't know, I play the tuba and this weekend will be my first ever solo!! I'm so excited and nervous!
In other news, Brigid Lowry Facebooked me back today! It was a bit anti-climatic though - she only said "lovely xx" ......but at least she replied! :D

OK, this story was originally an idea for a book, but after me sister telling me it was too much like the film "Hanna", I gave up on it. I still love the idea though so here it is! I really hope you enjoy it!


White. Blinding white. It contrasted sharply with the black corners of my dream world. I closed my eyes and opened them again, letting them adjust to the brightness. After a while, I sat up. My white, metal bed frame creaked as I stretched and yawned. I paused and looked around my room. The reinforced steel door was shut, as usual, and the small food hatch was unlocked.  The white, padded walls were dotted with a single camera, peering at me from different angles as I read and slept. The white door to my tiny bathroom was ajar, showing the spotless white tiles, just as I had left it the night before. A long one-way mirror stretched across the wall directly in front of me. I knew from experience that a single, sleeping guard would be snoring quietly on the other side. A pile of books poked out from under my bed, their pages torn and faded from being read so often. I kicked them under the bed. My room hadn't changed in the 14 years I had been here. It was only me that was different. It was my birthday. And I today was the day I would escape.

I stood up, wincing as my feet touched the cold floor. I felt under my pillow and, pulling out my orange overalls, walked silently to the bathroom. It was the only place that didn't have a camera. Even the White-coats couldn't watch a 14 year old shower. It would be 'unethical'. I squeezed myself inside, careful not to move the squeaky door. The bathroom was minuscule. A shower hung from the ceiling; a sparkling sink and toilet sat untouched behind the door. The cleaners came every night when I was in the exercise hall. That was the only time I was ever allowed out of my cell.

I quickly got changed and went to look at myself in the mirror. My short, white hair stuck up in spikes and tufts around my head, my eyes were lined with sleep and wrinkles. I rubbed them and looked at myself again. My blue eyes contrasted sharply with my pale face and the orange of my jumpsuit looked neon against my endless white background. I sighed and waited for my breakfast. It arrived a moment later. It slid through the food hatch and landed on the floor. Toast. I waited and a cup of tea was placed carefully beside it. I picked them both up and ate greedily. Once, I was finished I slid them plate and cup through the hatch and sat back down on my bed. It was only a matter of time now....

2 hours later and the door creaked and opened with a rumble. I sat up. It was nearly time. A man stepped through the open door. It was Martin, my psychiatrist. He was a short man, bald and chubby. He was only person allowed into my room and I hated him.  He seemed to love causing me pain, asking me about the outside - what do you think it looks like? Do you ever want to make friends? Do you feel lonely? Do you want to leave? He asked really idiotic questions and most of the time he was here I sat in silence as he pushed my to share my deepest wants and if I would tell him! He sat down on my bed, making my lumpy mattress sag in the middle. "Hello, Lexie," he said gently. I braced myself. This was it! Finally, the chance to escape! The door creaked as it was closed. "What do you want to talk about today?"
"Let's talk about..." I paused. "Let's talk about...." And then, I changed.

I felt my buried fur struggling to push up through my skin, my mouth stretching into an elongated snout. My head changed and my ears rushed to the tip of my skull, becoming triangular as they did so. My legs shortened and my feet and hands became paws, my nails becoming deadly claws. I could feel my white fur covering my body, the familiar tingling that warned that the transformation was complete. 

I looked at Martin. His face was a picture of shock and surprise. He had never seen my change before. I looked at him and snarled. I had to move fast if I was to get out of here alive. The guards would be alerted by now. So, with a single graceful movement I pounced. 

Martins still looked surprised when I ripped at his throat. His blood was warm and sticky. It was all over in a second. He let out a gargled scream before collapsing onto the ground, blood pouring onto the white tiles. My  white fur was splattered with his blood. I licked my snout and listened. My hearing was much better as a wolf. I could hear the sound of footsteps pounding outside my door as the troops got ready to storm my cell. My fur bristled and I snarled. The door was opening....It was now or never...

So, what did you think? If you liked it I'll continue it on Tuesday :) Please comment and share your opinions! I also want a new title - your suggestions would be welcome!


Cat :D said...

I wasn't expecting that!! It's brilliant! I love the twist of turning into a wolf :) That bit is a wee bit like 'Fruits Basket'...Which is great, I love Fruits Basket :)

Rach said...

No one should tell you a title, that would be cheating! :L

Rose said...

omfg but this is brilliant! so? who gives a sh*t if it resembles the film hanna? PLEASE continue it i wanna read more, im not just saying that! its great, gory but also very interesting. tell us more about lexie (sweet name!)also jenni, could u think about maybe changing your font? i find it quite hard 2 read at times :/ just a thought xxxx