The Writer's Café

This is my first story with an idea like this, so the entire world is somewhat foreign to me.
This story is around half the size or a little bit more than half the size of A Glimpse of the Sky, and is yet unnamed.
I tried to write with quality, but I don't know how good this will be compared to my previous story. Keep in mind that AGotS and this story will both be continued in the future.
Please give me feedback. Thank you, and have fun!

The ground swept up from under me. I fell, feeling heat and cold wash by me many times. After and unbearable amount of time I hit the floor on my back. I rolled over, groaning and clutching my stomach as I fought for breath.
After two minutes I stood up and brushed myself off.
The room was a covered in dark red marble from the floor to ceiling. Whichever way you turned, doors adorned the wall at ground level. Each had a number going from one to ten.
"Choose..." The sound came from everywhere at once, and I whirled around to find its source, but to no avail.
So this is Hell, I thought, seems kind of empty.
Each door opened in turn, a whirling vortex showing inside each.
I decided that it should just choose now, because I wouldn't be getting any clues as to which one I should choose.
I chose door number seven, as that number had always appealed to me.
The door was pulling in on me, I feel it! While walking towards the door I felt myself moving faster and faster, as the vortex called to me. I stepped in, and screamed. It burned. Every part of my body burned. I had glimpses of every terrible thing that had ever happened in my short life.
The world flipped upside-down, and I landed on the ground. Except it wasn't on the ground… it was pavement! I stood up wearily, as my body was now hurting in every imaginable place and more.
What the **** is this, I wondered.
I was in a seemingly high class neighborhood, the sun streaming down on freshly cut grass, perfect driveways, sidewalks, and roads, and glossy white houses with black highlights. Children shouted, laughed, and screamed as their friends played games like Cops n' Robbers.
I walked up and over the nearest curb and lay down on the grass. It was the perfect heat, with the sun shining from behind me. Everything was perfect, even my favorite song was playing somewhere behind me in the neighborhood. It was too perfect. There must be a catch.
And there was.
"What the **** are you doing there!" Someone came running from my right side while screaming.
"What do you mean?" I shouted back.
"This is about the last place you want to be right n… dear God. It's started. Get out of here!"
I was about to shout back a reply when I noticed that something was wrong. I placed it immediately. My favorite song was now sounding broken, as in those toys, which right before they run out of battery, talk very slowly and forebodingly. The sky was turning a deeper blue, then turned to blood-red. The sound of the children frolicking also change to a harsh screaming. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. The ground was sticking to my shirt, and it was burning.
I screamed for the second time in five minutes, which had the side effect of catching the notice of my newfound friend, who was already running away. He jerked to a stop on the now half melted tar on the road, and caught himself neatly from a terrible fall. He started back towards me, and all thought my screaming, he pulled me up from the ground.
"Lose the shirt!" He shouted.
I ripped off the remainders of my shirt and ignored the steadily increasing blisters on my back.
We ran, pounding down the melting street, dodging the worst parts of it, and jumping to the curb and running on there when the road itself melted, and kept melting. Suddenly we were all alone, balancing on the curb as the grass on our right sunk ten feet lower than it should, and the street on our left sunk twenty feet. A block ahead the street and grass was back to normal, and we nearly made it when I lost my balance.
I fell flat on the small curb, nearly missing a deadly fall to the right. I stood up and kept running. We both jumped the last few feet. I hit the road hard and hit my knees; he landed softly and rolled, going immediately back up to a standing position.
"There's no time, come now!"
I stood up, though I was already gasping for breath. The heat in the previous area had sapped me of much strength.
We ran forward, and stopped.
There was a child standing in front of us.
It seemed to me that my newfound friend wasted no time for his reaction. He jumped forward, right leg extended outwards and slight sideways to his body, straight for the child's chest. The child screamed, spouting dark purple blood from its mouth. My friend quickly back peddled and signaled me to follow.
We kept running.
And the sky just got darker. Soon it was raining searing droplets of blood, splattering on my bare back as I charged through the mist.
We kept running.
Suddenly it all changed. The entire sky became bright and sunny, the music changed back to it's normal sound, and the children continued playing.
"We're nearly there. Just around that corner. Quickly though, it wouldn't do to be caught just before the end."
We rounded the corner on the left. A bent shop sign lay on the street, a bloody street sign lay crooked on its post, and there were bullet holes and deep gouges everywhere on the street.
"Home sweet home," whispered my newly found friend.
I looked farther down the street, rather than putting my hands on my knees and gasping for breath like I had done a few moments ago.
A building. I don't know what type of building, because it was warped out of shape in impossible angles, but it looked like it might just be either a hospital, police, or military building.
We sprinted the last few hundreds feet, an came up to glass doors, which had long since shattered and been boarded up.
The door opened, and we walked inside.
 
Also here have a letter thing I wrote to my dad but never did anything with.

Look, I'm not perfect and never will be. I'm not your angel-faced little daughter you want me to be. I'm not going to sit here and take your insults and comments that just tear away at me until there's nothing I can do but sit there and cry silently. You don't know what it feels like to live with this, living in total fear. It's not just my anxiety, my so-called 'idiot syndrome' that only 'fat people who think they're beautiful and don't understand why nobody likes them' have. It's the fear that you'll explode one day and hurt me, or D. I'm living in constant fear for my safety, my life. D's tried to KILL me in front of you and you just laughed. I still have scars from when he attacked me with a fork. I still have the scars from the time he pushed me down the stairs then threw three wine glasses at me. I still have scars. You may not be able to feel them, but they hurt every day. You don't know what it's like living in a hellhole of a home, with no escape. The Internet and my iPod aren't a stupid thing that I do to annoy you, they're my escape. ESCAPE. From the world. From my life. From YOU. I don't think you care. You don't even have the dignity to push me down. You wait until the world, my anxiety, my depression, my inferiority complex, my bipolar-ness, or anything else does, then you kick me when I'm down. I've learned to live with it. But only barely. Crying isn't a cop-out, it's what happens when you break someone. You've broken me. Congratulations. I'm at the end of my rope, with nowhere to go. I don't have anyone to go to, anywhere to run, anything to fall back on. You've successfully turned my life into an inescapable, living Hell.
 
Am I the only one here without a terrifyingly painful emotional history? I was about to put up some 'fun facts' of my own until I read that letter.
 
Hey has anyone made a story about that spragga dude -_-. I kinda want to do that.

Oh and yeah a long time ago I played this game under the name iron hulk -_-
 
Well I'm going to Bangkok tomorrow and don't know if I'll have WiFi until Saturday.
So I'm just going to put some fun facts here.


I once cracked a girl's rib sparring.

I once had purple puke because the only thing in my stomach was Ribena (blackcurrent squash, 95%< of the blackcurrents grown in the UK go towards making it)

McCoys not Deep Ridged.

Dogs not cats, favourite breed, Corgi.

Sainsbury's not Tescos.

Favourite colour, red.

Half English, half Chinese.

Never taken an IQ test because I think it's a stupid why to pretend you're more intelligent that someone else.

Until you get to know me, introvert.

Birthday, 8th of August.

Youngest in a family of 5.

Favourite films are Scott Pilgrim Versus The World and The Princess Bride.

Never met my sugar tolerance level.

I dislike standardised testing.

My favourite film producing company is Pixar.

Favourite actor is Nathan Fillion.

My least favourite word is 'but'.
My favourite is 'lemniscate'.

I'm severely Arachnophobic and mildly Claustrophobic (I dislike crowded spaces)

I hate slow things.

I've only had to go to hospital twice and have never broken a bone. Once when I stepped on a lamp and once when a ***** threw a piece of ice at my eye.

I was born on my living room and have never moved house.

I have violent tendencies.


This is to list some of the many quirks and anecdotes about me.



If anybody wishes to see me off, I shall wake at 6PM EST and leave at approximately 6:30PM (6AM-6:30AM here in Hong Kong).
 
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