My name is Kitty Taylor, or at least that's what you can call me, and I'm 20 years old. I live somewhere in the middle of England, and yes it does nearly always rain here.
Loves: Musical theatre, nice people, writing, reading, art and photography, walking in the rain (but only in summer), snow, rainbows, dogs, butterflies and anything sparkly, music (especially listening to it for inspiration), the musical 'Wicked', any musical films, and Disney. Actually, I love most things, so just get to know me if you want to find out any more...
Dislikes: Waking up early, Monday mornings, Wednesdays, stupidly hot weather, writer's block, art/literature thieves and plagiarists.
I take part in NaNoWriMo every year (have done since 2005), and have completed successfully ever since 2006. I also take part in the Gaian SuWriMos and 2011 was my fifth year. ;]
NaNo06: Delicate Temptation (104,810 words).
SuWriMos07: (100,000/100,000 words) on selected novels.
NaNo07: Balancing Act (76,000 words) and Portellan- A Love Story (24,000 words). Overall total - (102,420 words).
SuWriMos08: Purple Mist (140,000/100,000 words). Also, Black Hour (50,000 words). 200k over the summer!
Black Hour: (124,005/100,000)
NaNo08: The Art of Misdirection (116,697 words).
NaNo09: Selected novels (71,198 words)
Winter09/10: Gunmetal and Lace. Current progress: (82,600/60,000)
NaNoWriMo10: The Price of Glory (75,000 words)
SuWriMos11: Of Amethyst and Emeralds (ON HOLD)
NaNoWriMo11: My Sister is Chaos (50,172 words and still going!)
Of Amethyst and Emeralds
In the beginning, the haze between the worlds was thin...
The night was hot. The wind was sullen in its intensity; it somehow managed to be soothing against the skin, and yet also carry a warning with its angry, cool bite. Nyssa sat on the front stoop, enjoying the play of wind against her bare arms. She held a book between her knees, several of the pages fluttering. Her mind, as usual, was wandering somewhere else.
Calista was late.
Calista was always late, these days. It didn’t matter what Nyssa said, nothing worked. Now, she sat with her book and couldn’t help but close her eyes against the breeze and the late summer night. It would be a while before she had to move, and the pleasant weather was lulling her like a crooned nursery melody. The house behind her was quiet, dark. The only light came from the electric bulb that hung above her head; a meager yellow ring surrounding the young woman, making a halo of her dark glossy curls.
She didn’t know how long it had been since she had expected to dish up supper, but she wasn’t hungry. She was waiting. And hoping that her younger sister wouldn’t keep her up all night.
The night was total darkness around her when she jerked awake. It was cool now, and the breeze had died down to almost nothingness. With another crack that came from the woodlands at the edge of the property, Nyssa was totally alert. Her heart began hammering before she had the time to quell any fear. It was just Calista - and she was definitely late. Wipe the fear away, she thought; what you need now is Annoyance.
Her face was set in such an emotion, ready for the confrontation, when Calista emerged from the darkness. She was limping badly, clutching one arm to her chest.
“Nyssa,” she whispered. Her voice was loud in the darkness, but Nyssa barely heard it over the roaring blood inside her head. Calista’s face was smudged with dirt and streaked with fresh tears. Her long blonde curls were dishevelled and her muddy dress was ripped at the hem.
“Calista.” Nyssa didn’t know what to say. She felt totally frozen, unable to move or speak or even change her facial expression. Her sister was hurt - and Nyssa felt nothing.
“He hit me, Nyssa. He hit me.” Calista wasn’t crying any longer, but her bottom lip was trembling against a fresh onslaught of tears. “I thought he was going to kill me. I thought he would-”
And then, as quickly as the deep-freeze had taken over her body, Nyssa was alive. The roaring inside her veins died down, and she was on her feet. She rushed to Calista, who was still standing at the foot of the front stairs, still clutching her hand to her chest. Now the tears flowed freely.
“What did he do to you?” Nyssa asked, drawing the younger girl to her. “Come here. Come here...” She crooned and patted and fawned, but only until her sister was safely inside. Then she bolted the door. She let her hands drop to her sides, and turned.
They were in total darkness. Calista was close, and she smelled like cheap perfume and whisky.
“You’ve been drinking,” Nyssa hissed. Their father was asleep, but she spoke quietly more from a fear of scaring herself in that darkness than waking him. “You’ve been out. Again. I knew you would get yourself into something - I knew you would! I warned you, and I tried to keep you safe; you just don’t care-”
“Nyssa, please!” Calista begged. “Please, listen to me!”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” Nyssa shook her head, forgetting that the gesture meant nothing to anybody but herself. “I can’t do anything.” It was a lie; she wished it was true. Nyssa had know that this day was coming for a long time. She had only hoped that it would never appear. She sighed. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know.” Calista’s voice had gained an edge in the second that it had taken Nyssa to doubt the necessity behind her harsh words. “Nyssa. Nyssa, I need to talk to you. I need to explain what’s going on.”
“And you can’t do that here?”
“No.” A pause. And then, “Yes. I can. You’re going to hate me.”
Nyssa sucked in a breath between her teeth, biting back the retort that was hanging between them, already unspoken. Not hatred, she wanted to say: disappointment. Worry. Fear. Instead, she took another long, deep breath and reached out for the girl’s shoulder.
“I’m listening,” she said. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what I can do to make it go away this time.”
Calista was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, it was as though the words were being forced from her mouth by an invisible demon, and Calista was fighting against them every second of the time. Nyssa felt her sister’s shoulder heaving beneath her fingers, as though even the thought of the words made her sick.
“He found out... Ka found out. I told him. He said that he’d kill me, said that I’d die before have... Before he’d let it happen. I tried to explain to him - honestly I did, Nys - but he wouldn’t listen! He just kept coming at me, and he had this funny look in his eyes... Oh, god. Nyssa. I really think I’ve screwed it up this time.”
Not even the vulgar language could worsen the biting feeling that was growing in the pit of Nyssa’s stomach. It felt like something inside of her was clawing itself out. She realised that it was the fear, the worry that had pitted her waking minutes for the last two years. It was coming. It was coming...
“Calista. What is it?”
“I’m...” She heard Calista swallow in the quiet, heard the sharp intake of breath. “Nyssa, I’m pregnant.”
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Diary of the last quest; among other things ;]
Juno & Diana
A novel in
45,552 / 130,000?
-2 wars! (1 / 2)
-7k! (Reach 25k for Camp)
Past Anon goals:
write 500 words or 2 wars with 50+ wars
“I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”
-- Liesel Meminger (The Book Thief)