The Girl in the Mirror

Here is the beginning of my new short story. I haven't finished it yet because I don't know if it's worth finishing. This is only part one, part two is written, but I didn't post it yet. I'm just missing the ending.
***I've now posted part two! Just scroll down until you find the part where it left off.***

The Girl in the Mirror

A. J. Spindle

The sound of winter’s first frost under her boots filled the air. Amy pulled the fur lined jacket closer around her neck and slung her backpack over her shoulder. The snow drifted around her, swirling in the wind and landing on the halfway-covered, yellow grass. Looking up to the sky, she held out her tongue and tried to catch a few flakes; her breath coming out in white wisps. She wasn’t watching her footing and her boot snagged a loose root, sending her sprawling across the frozen ground and filling her mouth with snow and dirt.

“Ugh!” She spit and rolled over, staring up at the sky. A bird sat watching her, its eyes like two red raspberries. “What are you looking at?” she asked the bird. It flew off without an answer.

Amy pushed herself up and leaned against a tree, checking the damage. Her jeans were ripped along the knees and soaked with fresh snow. “That’s just perfect.”

She stood up and dusted herself off the best she could. Her backpack landed a few feet in front of her, having slid off her shoulder when she fell. She bent down to pick it up when something shiny caught her eye. She left her bag and went over to investigate. Bending down, she reached out and pulled off a layer of vines and roots. Whatever the object was it had been there for a long time, hidden by nature’s hand.

Amy tugged the item loose and brushed off the remaining dirt on her jeans. It was a mirror, wrapped in a rounded frame and a curvy handle. The metal was rusted and scratched as if the owner had abused it. There was no telling how long the mirror had been in the middle of the woods. She’d taken the path many times before to get to and from school but she’d never noticed it.

The mirror felt cool, even through her gloves. Amy ran her fingers over the back of the frame. Swirling lines were etched deeply into the metal, creating an elegant pattern. She turned the mirror back over, reflective side up, and her stomach dropped to her toes. A young girl resembling Amy stared back.

But this girl wasn’t Amy.

She had Amy’s dark brown hair and blue eyes, but the girl in the mirror wasn’t surrounded by trees or wearing a thick coat and toboggan. The girl in the mirror wore a honey colored dress with ruffled white lace around the collar. A single heart shaped pendant dangled from a chain around her neck.

Amy dropped the mirror and took a step back. She looked over her shoulder, nobody was there. Of course not. Nobody goes into the woods but her; people believed it to be haunted. Amy took a cautious step forward and peered into the mirror. The girl was gone and only Amy’s reflection remained.

Amy let out the breath she’d been holding. She picked up the mirror and the girl appeared again, raising an eyebrow at Amy.

“Ahhh!” Amy threw the mirror and it bounced off a tree, sending shards of glass flying. Everything went dark, as if the sun had been snuffed out like a candle. The shards of mirror began to glow and Amy could hear laughter. She whipped her head around looking for the source of the sound. Something grabbed the back of her jacket and she tried to run but the thing was too strong.

“Let me go!” Amy lashed out with her arms but there was nobody behind her. A white mist tugged on her clothing, pulling her closer to the mirror shards where the laughter grew louder, more high pitched. “Help! Someone!”

The mist circled her and became thick like fog, pulling her down to the ground.

***

Breathing hard, Amy opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed through an open window. She was laying on her back on a hardwood floor. A young man stood over her, his face full of concern.

“Amelia, are you okay?”

She didn’t know what to say. She blinked and looked around. The smell of a sweet perfume filled the air. A marble fireplace sat to her left and to her right was a four poster bed, buried under mounds of blankets and fluffy pillows. Amy looked up at the boy who watched her with interest. His brows threaded together and his mouth set in a frown.

“Amelia, are you okay? Can you talk?” He reached a hand down to help her up.

“Why are you calling me that?” Amy finally said.

He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“You said Amelia. Nobody calls me that.”

“I don’t understand. That’s your name. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Amy.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Your nurse went to fetch help. Can you sit up?”

“My nurse?” She couldn’t be in a hospital. At least, she didn’t think she was. She’d never seen such a fancy hospital room before. The walls were oak paneled and there was a dressing curtain at her feet. No, certainly not in a hospital.

“I hope she can find the doctor,” the boy said, looking uneasy. Amy tried to sit up. He reached down to help.

“Who are you?” Amy asked, letting her eyes follow the features of his face. His dark green eyes led down to his pointed nose, thin lips, and square chin.

“You did take quite a spill, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “I’m Ephraim.”

Amy gave him a blank stare.

“Your betrothed,” he clarified.

Amy burst out laughing. “What? Are you serious?” she said between chuckles.

Ephraim cleared his throat and looked down at her. “Quite serious.”

Something in his expression made Amy freeze. “Oh.”

The door opened and an older woman rushed in. “There she is!” she said, pointing to Amy. A balding man came in behind the woman carrying a black bag by the handle. He wore a thick wool jacket with a white scarf sticking out around his neck. He came over to where she was on the floor and set his bag down beside her.

“What happened, Amelia?” The man reached into his black bag and rummaged around.

“That’s not my name,” she said. The man paused.

“She’s confused, Doctor. She thinks her name is Amy,” Ephraim said.

“I’m not confused,” she said. “And my name is Amy. Amy Thatcher.”

The doctor nodded his head. “I see.”

“No, you don’t see. I was in the woods coming home from school when I found this mirror. There was a girl in the mirror, but she wasn’t me. She was dressed in what looked like an 18^th century gown. She wore a long necklace with a heart on it.” Amy put her hands around her neck, as if to show what she meant, but her fingers found a warm metal chain there. She looked down and screamed.

“It’s on me!” she yelled. The honey colored dress and heart necklace had somehow made their way onto her body.

The doctor turned to the woman who Amy assumed was the nurse. “Help me get her in bed.”

“Why am I in this dress? What’s going on? Who are you people?” Amy thrashed on the floor trying to get the doctor and nurse’s hands off her. Her foot kicked something sharp, making her suck in a breath.

“Ow!” she looked down at her foot. A shard of glass stuck out of her heel at an odd angle. Amy pounded the floor with her fists and tears welled up in her eyes.

The doctor grabbed her foot so she couldn’t move it and spoke over his shoulder. “Ephraim, get warm water, towels, and a glass of wine for Amelia. Hurry.”

Ephraim ran from the room, not bothering to shut the door on his way out.

Amy sucked in a breath trying to ignore the jarring pain in her foot. “You people are crazy! I want to go home!”

“You are home, child,” the nurse said. “Don’t you recognize your own bedroom?”

“Hold still, Amelia. I have to remove this bit of mirror,” the doctor said.

Amy froze. “Mirror? Let me see it!” she demanded, pulling her foot away from him. She bent over and saw her reflection in the glass; her face on the mirror girl’s body. She looked up and saw bits of mirror scattered across the floor. The metal frame sat a few inches away from her. She snatched it up and turned it over in her hand.

“Be careful, you could get cut again,” the nurse said, but Amy ignored her.

“This is the mirror I found in the woods, but it’s not scratched or rusted.” Except for the splintered glass, the mirror looked brand new.

Ephraim came back with the supplies the doctor requested. He held out a glass. “Drink this, Ameli-- I mean, Amy,” he corrected.

The use of her real name threw her off. She reached out and took the glass of dark red liquid; peering inside, she sniffed. “Thanks.” She took an experimental sip. The liquid burned her throat and nose, making her cough. “I don’t think I like it,” she said, handing the cup back to Ephraim.

“You need to drink it. You’re not going to want to feel this,” the doctor said, taking her injured foot again. He took a white towel and dipped it in warm water. “Hold still.”

Amy bit her lip and whimpered as the doctor took hold of the shard of mirror and tugged. The blood left her face, leaving a light tingly felling. She laid back on the floor.

“I think I need that wine now,” she murmured, eyes squeezed shut.

Ephraim leaned down and held the cup to her lips. “Is she okay?”

The doctor grunted. “She’s having glass removed from her foot, son. What do you think?”

The doctor removed the glass and wrapped her foot in a cool cloth. The pain began to ease a little as her head grew fuzzy.

“There, that should hold. Let’s get her to bed. Ephraim, you need to leave so she can change into her bed clothes.”

“No, I want him here.” Amy handed the nurse her wine glass that she’d drained.

The woman gasped. “Amelia, you’re not in your right mind.”

“I want him here!” Amy didn’t know why, but she felt that Ephraim might actually believe her. He’d called her Amy, after all.

The doctor looked uneasy but shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever keeps her calm I suppose.”

The nurse clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “The boy better keep his peepers shut if he ever wants to see anything again.”

“I think I should wait in the hall,” Ephraim said, glancing at the nurses pursed lips. “I’ll be right back.” He walked out to the hall and shut the door.

“You too, Doctor,” the nurse said.

“I suppose I’m not needed here. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and stays in bed for the rest of the day,” he said on his way out of the room.

“She will.”

After Amy was dressed and tucked safely in bed, Ephraim was allowed back in, so long as she kept the covers pulled up to her chin.

“Could you give us some privacy?” Amy asked the nurse.

The old woman’s eyes grew big. “Privacy? Have you lost all sense of modesty, young lady?”

“I need to speak with him. In private. I guess I could get out of bed, but the doctor wanted me to rest and--”

“Oh, all right. I’ll go sit over there. Drink some more wine,” she said, handing the refilled glass to Amy. She smiled and took a sip, hoping to please the nurse. It seemed to work and the nurse grudgingly walked away, taking a seat by the window.

“I need you to do something for me,” Amy said in a low voice as Ephraim pulled a chair over to the bed and sat.

“Anything.”

“I need all the pieces to the broken mirror.” She glanced up at the nurse who was watching like a hawk. Amy took another sip of wine and yawned.

“Why would you want that for?”

“I just do, okay,” Amy pleaded with her eyes for him to understand the urgency behind her words, but he didn’t.

“You need to rest for now.” He stood up from his chair.

“No, I can’t! Not without the mirror.”

Ephraim sighed and then chuckled, a light airy laugh. “Do you want your nurse to murder me? I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Please?” Amy felt tired; her head thick from the wine. It didn’t help that the heavy blankets pressed down on her like a butterfly in a cocoon.

“You sleep and I’ll see what I can do.”

Amy had no strength to argue so she nodded and rolled over to sleep.

***

Almost My Birthday!

Three more days until I turn twenty-years-old! That's just crazy to think I was born two decades ago on April 12, 1991 at 12:16 pm. I certainly don't feel twenty yet. I feel like a kid. I think it's harder for my parents to believe I won't be a teenager anymore. Well, I'm glad I survived my teen years, not that they were hard or anything. Hopefully my twenties will be more exciting. Maybe I'll finally sell my book and people will stop asking if I'm in 8th grade.

So for my birthday I will be going to the zoo because I have a school project that day, funny how that worked out :)

So now that I'm going to be an official adult and all, I guess I'll have to be more serious...  or not. I'm fine with being goofy and crazy until the day I die, haha!

I haven't blogged in a while and I appologize for that. Not that many people read my blog, but there are a few of you out there.  School has kept me very busy. I'm looking for a new university to go to and trying to find a second job. Did you know college was expensive? Who would have thought, haha!

That's all for now,
A. J. Spindle

Please excuse the broken links. This blog is under construction!

New Short

A snippet of my new short story. I could turn it into a book, but I've set it aside for now. Enjoy. (note: this has not been edited and errors are sure to be present).

There was a knock at the door. I muted the television and set my popcorn down on the table. When I opened the door, I’m sure my jaw dropped, but I don’t really remember. All I know is that when my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun, I saw my mother standing in the doorway, smiling like she’d never left. Like her presence now could somehow make up for the past nine years.

  “Mom,” I said as curtly as I could, “you’re not supposed to be here until tonight.” I leaned against the open door, blocking the entrance with my body.

“Brianna, darling, I’ve missed you,” Cynthia said. Dad said I wasn’t allowed to call her Cynthia to her face, but that didn’t stop me from thinking it.

“It’s Bree now, actually,” I said, “but you wouldn’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bree.” She smiled like she’d told a joke. That just put more fuel on the fire. “Can I come in?”

Not after what you’ve put this family through, no. Do you think you can just waltz back into our lives like you never left? “Sure,” I said. I didn’t want her in the house. I didn’t want her to poison it like she did the last one. I wouldn’t forget what she did to me when she left me crying in my bedroom floor when I was seven. I moved aside, just enough for her to slide past me into the living room.

“This is nice,” she said.

I didn’t say anything back. Instead I plopped back onto the couch and turned up the volume on the television.

“Where’s your father?” Cynthia asked.

“Dunno.” I stared blankly at the screen like a zombie, thinking maybe if I tried hard enough, she’d go away.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked after an uncomfortable minute of silence.

“Which one?” I tossed a popcorn kernel in the air and caught it in my mouth.

She was quiet for a second as she thought that over. “Brayden, of course,” she finally said.

“What? Didn’t you know I had two bothers now?”

“Your father neglected to mention it,” she said. That pleased me. If Dad was keeping her out of the loop, she might not even know he’s married again.

“Did he tell you about Mom?” I don’t ever call my stepmother “Mom” but I did it just to see her reaction. She didn’t even blink which disappointed me.

“Yes, I’ve heard about Kristen. Is she...” she searched for words, “nice?”

“She’s the greatest. We do everything together.” That was a lie too. Kristen and I get a long just fine, but we don’t hang out. Not the way my real mother and I used to.

“I see,” she said.

I cocked my head to the side and looked her in the eyes. “Is there something you wanted?”

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Brianna Fletcher, do not talk to your mother that way.”

I lost it.

“Who do you think you are? You just show up on our doorstep like some stray cat and expect us to invite you in? You left us. You left me.” My voice broke on the last word and I kicked myself internally. “You are no mother of mine.” I stared back at the TV like nothing had happened.

Cynthia stood from the couch. “I see your father’s temper has rubbed off on you,” she muttered.

“Better than yours.”

  “Maybe I’ll come back when he gets home, then, hmm?”

“Does it look like I care what you do?” I snapped. She stood by the door for a minute with her fingers around on the handle, like she couldn’t decide what to do.

“I guess--”

“Cynthia?” Dad’s voice wafted in from the kitchen. Oh, great. 

Printing the Manuscript

What am I holding in this picture, you ask? Oh, nothing too important... It's just my MANUSCRIPT!! I sent my book, Bennett Nelson and the Maker of the Stones, to Staples to have them print and bind it. It looks so official and book-like! I'm so excited, if you couldn't tell by that smile on my face. :)

Anyway, I'm looking through it now and I'm smiling to myself thinking, how did I even come up with that? There are a few small typos, as was expected. For instance I put the word "Breathe" instead of "Breath" but that's okay. This book is for my eyes only, and maybe my parents.

Now I've got to find some more literary agents to send this too. Hopefully someone will want to take a look at it and maybe even represent it!

Squeal! I'm just so happy with how official it looks!

That's all for now,
A. J. Spindle

New Year!! Woohoo!

Haven't blogged in forever, I'M SORRY! I've been so busy with school, then the holidays, and now we have family over to spend the week with us.

Anyway, I thought I'd share some news with you. Some of you already know, but I met my goal for 2010. I wanted to be a published writer and it happened. I signed my contract on December 16, 2010. My goal was to sign a contract by December 31, 2010. Mission accomplished!

I'm pretty happy. No, it's not a book deal, but my short story will be published in an anthology. I'm pretty excited. It's just the first step :)

A lot of people ask me about writing so I made a video to answer some of their questions:

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I think I'm addicted to keeping fish. I now have three fish tanks in my game room. One 2.5 gallon with a male betta fish. One 15 gallon with 1 silver dollar, 3 mickey mouse platies, and 1 peppered cory catfish. And in the third tank, a 55 gallon, I have 1 common pleco, 1 rubbernose pleco, 7 golden tetras, and 6 tiger barbs.

I don't know why fish keeping is so much fun. I love to rearrange the tank and add new plants. The fish are active and darting around the tank, chasing each other and it's fun to watch! Recently, my friend L. J. Boldyrev has joined the fish loving club. Her 10 gallon is beautifully decorated and full of pretty neon tetras, glass fish, a frog, snail, and a featherfin catfish. Daily we discuss our fishies and how happy they make us.

Recently, my bunny rabbit, Lola, passed away from flystrike. She died a horrible death and I was really sad. But these new fish have helped distract me from thinking of her. She was a great bunny. Always the calmest, gentlest, and most loving of all my rabbits. She never once growled at me, or thumped, or tried to bite or claw me. She just sat there and let me pet her and brush her fur. She was always happy and loved to move the hay around in her cage and build a nest for winter. She was very special. I adopted her when she was 1 year old. I had her for 3 short years. Her cage may be empty, but she left my heart full of joy. I buried her in the back yard under a peach tree and decorated her grave with pretty rocks.

It’s been a week since you left 

And here I sit alone, 

Collecting your pictures. 

Thinking if only 

I would have known 

That that day was your last.  

I’d have given you a hug,

Maybe kissed your nose,

Tickled your ears,

Or played with your toes.

I miss your eyes,

They way you lit up a room.

I miss the way you

Would try to groom

My arm with your tongue.

I wish you were still here,

You were so young.

Now you’re gone and all I have

Are memories to which I’ve clung

To, to get me through this time.

You had me wrapped

Around your paw,

And I was trapped in your love.

I will never forget you

As you watch from above.

Greed Only Leads to Corruption

A common problem in today’s society is greed. People always want more than they have and it’s a never ending desire. Americans in particular can’t be truly happy until they have the latest gadget or newest clothes. Scanning the news articles, one can see how greed can corrupt people, ruin relationships, and even lead to murder. Greed is an intense and selfish desire. It will exist for as long as the Earth continues on. Those who succumb to greed find themselves in a worse situation than had they hesitated to act upon their desires.

One news article from today addresses the trapped miners in Chile and their relatives. While the miners are trapped underground, trying to stay alive and keep a level head, their relatives are above ground arguing about how much money one family receives from the government while another receives less. An article from Yahoo News sheds light on distant family members who are trying to ride on the miners fame, “There are those who, despite only distant blood ties to miners, lined up for donated gifts including bottles of wine and electronic toys and Halloween costumes for children.” Greed stands in the way of what is really important: the safety of the trapped miners. These people don’t care about these men who they barely know. Their greed urges them to take advantage of the situation, and that is just wrong.

An excellent example from the Ancient World unit is in Medea, by Euripides. Jason, Medea’s husband, takes a new bride without asking or saying anything to Medea. She feels betrayed and angry with him. Her anguish is so great, her nurse fears she will snap and hurt herself. Medea had always been faithful to Jason, turning her back on her homeland to follow him and be his bride, and he repays her with this slap to the face. Jason claims that his marriage to this young princess will ensure that Medea and her two sons will be taken care of for the rest of their life, but Medea knows that he is selfish and takes what he wants. His greed gets in the way and in the end, he loses his new bride and his only two children by Medea’s doing. Jason says it’s “only naturally a woman is angry when her husband marries a second wife.” (Euripides, 865). He does not regret his decision, but expects Medea to except it because women cannot divorce their husbands, it was far to shameful. So instead, Medea ruins his life by taking all that he loves.

In the book of Genesis of the Old Testament, a man named Cain is envious of his brother, Abel. One day, while out in the field, Cain gets fed up with his perfect brother and kills him. When questioned by God as to where Abel is, Cain answers “I know not; Am I my brothers keeper?” (Moses, 72). Cain wanted God’s attention and love. When he saw that Abel was God’s favorite, he acted without thinking. After the slaying, Cain was punished more than he could bare. No crops grew for him anymore. Embarrassed by his actions, he went into hiding from the Lord, saying “...I shall be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth” (Moses, 72). Had he been able to control his greed for attention, he could have been blessed by God and got along with his brother. Greed corrupted him and sentenced him to exile.

In the end, those who give in to their temptations and act on their desires of greed will most likely cause more problems than they can handle. If everyone could learn from the mistakes and flaws of characters in literature, there would be less impulsive people; people who think before they act. Imagine the murders that happened because of greed. What if that one person lived and they found the cure for cancer. Is it really necessary to own the fastest car, fancy clothes, and the newest iPod? Imagine a world where everyone put others before themselves. How would that impact daily life for those who are less fortunate and don’t even have a place to call home? Greed, of course, cannot be completely snuffed out because it is part of human nature, a fatal flaw, but if everyone gave instead of took, they hold the potential to change the world.

School

       So school starts Monday and no, I'm not prepared. I thought I was, but I'm really not ready for all that homework! I only have 2 days of summer left and I don't know what to do with them. I just got Mockingjay in the mail today by Suzanne Collins! One of these days I'll have a giveaway on my blog. I only have 8 followers and nobody reads this except for Lacey, because she's awesome :)

       Soooooooo, I had to break down and buy a stupid book for school since it never came in the mail. So I had to pay 70 bucks instead of the 36 I paid the first time. College is annoying. The book I got was so beat up anyway, you'd think it went through a shredder! Definitely NOT worth 70 dollars!

I was playing around on photoshop the other day and came up with this:

       I made it out of boredom. This is what I think the back of my book should look like. It has a few typos, because I couldn't see what I was typing, but over all I think it's cool. I have an idea of what I want the front to look like, but I have no idea how to make it with photoshop.

I guess I should go get all my textbooks packed up for the first day of school now. Yay.... not.

Publishing and Stuff

       So this is what I looked like this morning when I got a certain email from a certain publisher. No, they did not offer me a book deal, but what they said made me just as happy. What could make me this happy at 9 o'clock on a Monday morning, you ask? The answer is below this picture of a very happy cat.

       The email basically said that they (the publisher) would have an answer for me this week, regarding my manuscript (Bennett Nelson and the Maker of the Stones). Then on Twitter, they posted that they had "three fabulous manuscripts in front of them" and mine is one of those "fabulous" manuscripts!! Even if they reject me after this, I've had a major confidence boost. The fact that they've called it "fabulous" is enough to make me do a little happy dance! *runs around the room, frolicking like a fairy*

       So now comes the hard part... the waiting. I've already started writing book two, haha! I'm still plotting/planning it out and even thinking of a third book. I know, crazy right. Just three years ago, I was a 16 year old girl with a pen, a blank notebook, and a crazy imagination. It's hard to believe that Bennett will actually be out in the world one day. People will read his story and they'll know I wrote it. That's just... wow. No words for how I feel about that. Actually, there is one: nervous. I'm afraid that people will hate it. I know Bennett is not for everyone, but it still makes me nervous. What if EVERYONE hates it? But I won't worry about that right now. I'll just focus on the positive, like a publisher calling my work "fabulous."

       All right. Back to writing. School starts one week from today. One week to write my little heart out. This should be an interesting week for me. I'm entered in a contest with my query for Bennett and I'll be getting feedback on that on Thursday. Mockingjay comes out tomorrow and I've already ordered my copy. I'm waiting for a few books in the mail that should be here this week. Wow, crazy times.

That's all I have time for for now.

A. J. Spindle

Writing and School

I started working on Bennett Nelson, book two, yesterday. My goal (though I don't think I can manage it) is to write 1,000 words a day until school starts on August 30, 2010.

Well, today is day two and the word count is roughly over 2k.

I updated all of my word counts on my facebook today:

Current Word Count for my books (titles not set in stone)

Bennett Nelson (50,926)

Bleeding Royal (63,381)
Alice Reid (19,193)
Bennett Nelson Two (2,133)

Those numbers make me happy :)

Hmmmm.... I haven't blogged about my kitten yet, or have I?

I can't remember. Anyway, this is my kitten/cat, Charlie. She's so cute. I love her so much, even if she attacks me when I walk outside. She loves to chew on my ankles and arms, which hurts. I'm sure she's a vampire in disguise, because the other day, she bit me and made me bleed and had blood all over her mouth...

Gross, I know.

I just finished my online summer one class, Forms of Literature. I signed up for my new classes back in June. My schedule will look like this:

PE- M&W- 12:30 pm-1:50 pm

World Literature- T&TH- 8:00 am- 9:20 am

Math- T&TH- 9:30 am- 10:50 am

Creative Writing- Distance Learning (DL)

History II- DL

Art- DL

That's 16 hours. It was supposed to be 18 hours, but I couldn't take that many without a note from my counselor. I'll be taking two english classes again. Fun. Fun. Fun.

This will be my 4th semester of college. After this fall, I'll have one semester left before graduation. Then I can transfer to a university and pursue an english degree.

I better get back to writing if I want to keep my goal.

TTYL,

A. J. Spindle