My Book

I am going to post the first chapter of my book on here, I would love to hear what anyone thinks of it.

Chapter 1
Strong, cold fingers dug painfully into my arms, I struggled frantically to be free of them. Glancing around hysterically I realized that I was being held, suspended above a chasm filled by two massive spheres spinning against one another. Instantly I ceased my struggle and I stared frozen in fear at what lay below me. The friction of the huge orbs motion caused blue lighting to shoot out like static-infused hairs, waving in a wind that never blew in the same direction twice.
Bolts of lighting flashed towards us only to be deflected away by some unseen force, which was able to push aside the electricity like light reflecting off a mirror. However an icy wind remained; tearing at my clothing and whipping my hair so fiercely against my skin, it stung like needles on my face.
The sudden pressure of lips against my ear startled me; they were warm and soothed the burning pain caused by the steady icy wind. “You will never be found” it came as a whisper but, I was certain that it had been shouted so that I could hear what he was saying over the howl of the wind. I strained to see who it was that was doing this to me but his face was blank as if it only existed as a black void.
I opened my mouth to scream but the force of the wind sucked the sound along with my breath away leaving me gasping for air. Suddenly I was released from the crushing grip of his hands and I was falling. No longer protected, the lightning surged towards me like hungry snakes striking at their prey. My skin burned at each contact point. Closing my eyes I wished for death; the pain was beyond anything I thought possible.
Gasping for breath I opened my eyes; the darkness that engulfed me was disorienting. Reaching out I grouped for anything to try and orient myself. I could feel something entangling my body and with frenzied hands I tore at it freeing my legs; the soft fabric pulling away easily and I sat shivering in the cold air.
My disorientation only deepened as I noticed a red glow emanating from out of the darkness. I tried focusing my eyes. My heart thumped heavily in my chest and my throat constricted making breathing difficult. Closing my eyes I pressed my hands hard against them and took a deep breath trying to force myself to relax and think more clearly. Slowly my muddled mind began to calm. Opening my eyes, once more I tried to focus on the deep red glow emitting from out of the darkness. Blinking, I stared at it unwilling to let my confusion over take my emotions. Gradually my mind and eyes cleared and the red illumination blur shifted into my clock glaring 1:45.
Instantly recognition filled my mind and I sat bewildered looking around my dark and silent bedroom. Falling back against my pillow I sighed irritably. Trembling slightly I pulled the blanket that I had previously torn off of me back up and over my chilled body. Silently I started up at the ceiling. The beat of my heart fluttered in my chest, its uneven pulse shifting from swift rhythmic beats to faltering rolling thumps as I relaxed.
I focused on the ceiling with burning eyes, I refused to close them. I knew if I did the dream would come rushing forward and entangle me once more in its horror. The dream was familiar; a constant companion to me for as long as I could remember. Yet that familiarity did nothing to lesson the terror it instilled in me. My arms tingled as if those cold hard hands still gripped me. Shuddering, I rubbed them fiercely trying to force the impression from my mind. As my fingers warmed my arms I paused momentarily on one of the small round scars that covered my arms and legs. Once more I wondered what they were and how I had gotten them. Having no memory of where they had come from frustrated me to no end.
My life before coming into foster care at the age of five was a complete blank. I was told that I had been found wondering the streets of Albuquerque, New Mexico wearing tattered clothing, and covered with terrible burns on my arms and legs. Apparently the burns had been caused by someone repeatedly burning me with a cigarette.
Over the next twelve years I was shuttled from one therapist to another and each one as useless as the one before. At first I had been convinced that they wanted to help me and that I would finally find the answer to what had happened to me. All was going well until one day while poring out my soul to Paul, he was my favorite therapist I had ever had. He was young and handsome and I like talking to him. It felt good to have someone like him take an interest in me. His office was not large but it was filled with fascinating items, mobiles hung from the ceiling and shelves held a multitude of toys. A number of chairs were positioned around the room. One wall was covered by shelves of books their multicolored spines peeking out at me, each a different in size, shape or color yet each one holding between its firm covers fantastic stories to amaze, sadden or entertain.
His desk was positioned in the corner between two large windows; there was a black stand that sat on the edge of his desk that held a silver sculpture that was suspended in thin air like magic. I loved to touch causing it to spin; I would take it off and hold it in my hand and when I placed it back on the black base it would hang suspended in the air, defying every law of physics I knew. The last wall held a large gold framed mirror that was taller then I was. The best chair was positioned in front of this mirror and it made me feel like a queen to sit there. As I gazed expectantly at him as I told him once more of my nightmare, I spoke I slowly began to realize that he was not truly looking at me. This realization crushed me; even though he was looking in my direction he was not looking at me at all he was in fact fixated by his own reflection in the mirror. That realization fell on me as if someone had dropped a ton of bricks on my head; to this day I think that the bricks would have hurt less. He was not even listening to me. I stopped talking and it took a moment for him to notice the silence, I looked at my hands uncomfortably for a moment unable to control the rush of emotion. I left that day without telling him what I had discovered and over the next few weeks I came to realize that was what he did each time I came and so from that day forth I changed.
Soon after that my new goal in life became thinking up ways to irritate my therapists. I stopped expressing my true feelings to them and just started making smart mouth comments to their questions. But the thing I got the biggest kick out of was when they would give me their stupid tests. I would choose the most awful responses I could come up with. There was nothing funnier then playing mind games with therapists. I guess that’s where I first got labeled as having problems with authority figures.
Sighing I rolled over and tentatively closed my eyes but opened them again just as quickly. It was going to be a long night. Lying on my side I tried to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress, not only was I not completely comfortable in my bed, I was not completely adjusted to my new home, the 12th since my wonderful journey through foster care had begun.
My mind wandered aimlessly around fluttering from one pointless thought to another until the drip, drip; drip from the bathroom faucet down the hall brought the thought of my most recent placement to the forefront of my mind. Clovis, New Mexico: a hot, barren speck on the map no one had ever heard of. Why I was sent here was simple: I was a problem the state wanted to forget and the easiest way to forget something was to send the problem someplace as far away as possible. I’m certain they would have loved for me to be placed at area 51 but they must have settled for Clovis instead.
I had arrived in mid-September. School had already started, but Amy, my foster parent, had given me a few days to get acclimated to my new surroundings before signing me up for classes. She told me that she felt it was important for me to get used to her and the other kids before I was thrust into the den of lions or Wildcats as the case may be with Clovis High. So not only did I have to get to know my new “family” I had to learn to navigate the halls of yet another school and make new friends. At seventeen this was not an easy endeavor. I had given up making friends years ago; what’s the point I would only be moving on soon anyway.
Starting a new school rated right up there with getting a tooth pulled. I should have been used to it by now because this was not my first time starting a new school, in fact I thought of myself as quite the pro. Clovis High was the fourth high school I had attended in the last three years, not to mention the myriad of middle and elementary school before that.
So far this school was rating right up there with my worst experiences ever. I had only been in school a few weeks when I attracted the attention of an irritating group of students I referred to as the bug squad. It consisted of Clowie and a group of four or five of her goody-two-shoe friends of hers.
They buzzed around campus like a swarm of mosquitoes descending upon anyone who they felt looked even a little down. Unfortunately for me I must have looked like a giant glowing light bulb of depression because they swarmed down upon me like a cloud of irritating biting insects, hence the term bug squad.
I must have said I’m fine a hundred times a day, but their persistent hovering continued. Their favorite behavior was to slip little notes into backpacks, books or anything for that matter that had been momentarily left unattended. The notes contained happy little sayings that were supposedly designed to ward away the dark moods of a brooding teen. I found them to be more irritating than the chicken pocks I had gotten when I was eight. That fact of the matter was I did not like to be bothered. I liked staying on the outskirts of life happily making my way though this existence with as little contact with others as possible. But Clowie and her groupies were determined to prevent that.
Rolling over on to my back I tentatively shut my eyes. The burning of my eyes was soothed and the fact that my mind was free and clear of my dream was encouraging. Waking up in the middle of the night is the worst it usually took me forever to get back to sleep. Plus the fact that the world silent and sleeping gave my mind nothing to focus on, with the lack of distraction it was constantly rushing off on some tangent or another. There was nothing to drive away the flood of my life that was constantly crashing down on me.
I pulled the blanket up and over my head and pushed my head deeper into my pillow. The previous day rushed forward and crashed against my sealed eyelids. Thoughts and faces flashed across my mind with increasing speed. Like a movie on fast forward images of all kinds hovered in my mind momentarily before flying off to some dark recess of my mind. I rolled over again and willed my mind to empty.

Well if you made it this far Good. LOL Let me know what you think thanks.