It all started with a dream…and it really did. One of those weird dreams where you’re not even sure it’s you your dreaming about and yet it’s really detailed. So detailed in fact, that a story can be written from it!!! Hyes. I’m writing a story based on a dream. I never thought it would be possible, but I might as well use my insane dreams for something.
This may actually be the most detailed plot I’ve ever come up with I’m experimenting with formatting, it seems to emphasize some emotions. Tell me what you think!
Only one thing moved in the distance; all else was silent and still. Yet the metallic, strange device swivelled and twisted as though there was something greater out there. The telescope readjusted its position again, this time catching a very pale face staring out at it from a window. A blue eye widened and the curtain twitched closed. The telescope paused momentarily before moving on, the lens flashing in the moonlight.
The girl did not turn around; her hand still held the curtain shut. Her ebony hair flitted around her pale face, framing wide, horrified eyes. Her hand trembled, she dropped it to her side. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. The girl turned around to face two other figures in the room, her features composed and hard once more.
“Got caught in the act?” one of the figures trilled, while she flicked another page over in the book she was reading. The addressee did not deign to reply. She crossed the room and straddled her desk chair, the better for her to view her companions.
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Why there’s a bleeping observatory in the school grounds?” The second figure suggested as she examined her drying fingernails.
“Yes.” R____ said after a short pause. Though her companions seemed less than interested in what she had to say, R___ was determinedly serious.
“But not just that. People have been acting weird recently. Not like they usually do. Strange.” R___ paused, trying to think of something that would catch their attention. “I mean…since when did we have to wear uniforms?”
The atmosphere changed immediately from a lazy complacence to indignant rebellion. With the snapping shut of a book, Genevieve sat up, her candy floss pink curls bouncing around her black-rimmed eyes. Meanwhile, the angelic, blonde haired Sylvie put away her nail varnish and turned her full attention towards R___, always poised.
So, since this story has no title, does anyone have one for me?