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Alex isn't who he thought he always was... View table of contents...


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Submitted:Aug 25, 2011    Reads: 122    Comments: 10    Likes: 4   

Please Keep In Mind:

That this is the first ever draft of this book. I have done a lot of editing since I finished it, but I want the first ever draft to be here. When I have deemed my book absolutely perfect, then I will change this so that it has the perfect version. Until then, this is what you get.

Also Keep In Mind:

That I am a human being with feelings. Constructive criticisim is more than welcome, as there are some parts that I know make sense, but becuase of how hard I worked on it, I have issues trying to change it. It's like I don't want to mess with my perfect baby, you know? But don't tell me that my book is bad, tell me how it can be better. Also, don't tell me that I copied Avatar the Last Airbender, because if you actually read the story through, you will find they are nothing alike. Whoever created Avatar the Last Airbender does not own the concept of the four elements. I could go into a whole rant on this subject, but for your sake, I wont.

Thanks for reading, please enjoy :)


Normal text = Alex/Flame point of view

Italicized text = Starfire point of view


I wish I could cry.

I had always thought of crying as yet another weakness in humans. Something disgusting, hateful. I took pride in that I only ever felt anger, that even though I was forced to be among humans - acting like one, pretending to be one - I was not as weak as them, had not sunk to their level. I was supposed to integrate into their world, understand them better, and almost become one. But I refused to bend to their emotions.

Yet as I sit here on the forest floor, alone, I wish I could do more than scream, more than break things, more than run or fly. I wish I could find some way to expel these awful feelings, the ones creating turmoil inside me. The ones causing so much pain I could hardly bear it.

I wish I could cry.

Chapter 1

Another average Monday morning. God, this sucks. Did I do my math homework? Yeah, I did. I always do anyway. My alarm clock beeped again, reminding me - as it always does- that I had once again pressed the snooze button instead of shutting it off. I fumbled for the right button in the dark and ended up pulling out the plug instead. Hey, it stopped beeping at me, at least. As long as the noise stops, I don't care how it happens. I dragged myself slowly out of bed, taking as much time as possible to stretch and yawn, ignoring my mother's knocking on the door that I always took care to lock before I went to bed. I flipped the light on, and my eyes adjusted quickly to the bright light. I don't really like being in the dark. I mean, I'm not a scaredy cat or anything. I just like being able to see. I grabbed a t-shirt and some skinny jeans, pulled them on, and ran downstairs.

It seemed like it was a normal Monday at first. I went downstairs, ate some generic brand cereal, watched my mom drive away without saying goodbye to me, and went to wait for the bus. But something seemed off. I can't even describe to myself what it was. Just that something was wrong. But then again, I have my paranoid moments.

I walked into school behind two girls - wearing some scrap of material that somehow counted for shorts - arguing over some drama of whatever. I was trying not to laugh, watching them scream at each other. From what I could gather, one of them had done something with the other's boyfriend that was not favorable to the girlfriend. I passed two guys trying to beat each other up, with two teachers trying to stop them (but failing miserably). See? I told myself. Just another typical day, at my stupid, dumb-ass middle school.

Once I saw my friends, I rushed up to them and we fist bumped like we always do. Matt started telling me about how our social studies teacher had given him after school detention for doing 'absolutely nothing' (betcha ten bucks he did some thing totally obnoxious, but I wont hold it against him. I've had my fair share of detentions too). But, for the most part, I had stopped listening. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a man sitting on the bleachers, some one I had never seen before. He had dark, jet black hair and pale blue eyes. But what got my attention was that he was watching me, staring right at me. There was no way he could have been looking at something else, or just spacing because when I fully turned toward him, he smiled a smile that seemed quite terrifying.

Not that I'm easily spooked or anything.


The school day was almost over and I was ready to go home. Though of course, where I am headed after this is not my real home. More like a temporary home. A camp of sorts, though to humans, my real home would be the camp. But humans know nothing.

It was last period when I stepped into Language Arts Class. A quick once over told me that Alex was there, in his seat, talking to some girl behind him. Now that I knew where he was, I could relax. Or at least relax as much as I ever do, considering I'm always tense. It's fighting instinct. Never let your guard down.

Class began. We were set to work writing about persuasive writing. Yes, it is in fact as ridiculous as it sounds, but humans have their ways and we have ours. I blew through the worksheet quickly, and watched Alex talk to his friends out of the corner of my eyes, so as to not draw suspicion. But then some thing made me twitch. I whipped my head around, scanning the classroom quickly, but nothing was there. So I settled back down, nervous and jumpy.

That was when they came.


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