Here's tha prologue to my original Chosen Ones.
So, I climbed off that ship, into the country I came to know as the United States of America. I may have been American, but I had lived in England my entire life. Well, for fourteen years of my life. I am only fifteen years of age, but I could no longer handle my high-class, snobby family when I was the one sister of four that wore ripped jeans and destructed shirt with high tops and they found me as an embarrassment. My brothers never even dressed as “our generation” as I did. They were constantly in dressy or formal attire, whichever whomever reads this prefers. Anyway, I keep straying from the true storyline. I stepped off of the ship and looked around at what I could have had. Oh, and not only did I wear ripped and weathered clothing, I had my lip pierced, along with my nose. My hair was dyed cherry red with blood red streaks, though it was naturally brunette. And my eyes - my best feature, so I’m told - were topaz blue.
Anyway, I stepped off, my short, skater boy-styled hair covered by a beanie and I had on a thick hoodie along with my weathered, light blue jeans and a pair of high tops. I looked around, trying to keep my head down because the ship I had boarded was basically full of either sex addicts or sexists and I was not going to fall victim to either.
“Excuse me, young man,” an old man said as he approached me.
I deepened my voice and replied, “Yes?”
“You forgot your bag on the boat,” he smiled as he held out my black and red laptop bag.
I nodded and muttered, “Thanks.” as I took it from him.
I began walking away, but he called after me and ran up beside me. I kept my hands in my hoodie pockets. I knew that American men weren’t all that nice and sweet. I had a feeling that he knew I was a girl.
“What’s your name, lad?” he asked.
“Jack Gold,” I sighed in my best guy’s voice.
“Well, Jack,” he started, “I’m Ned Thurman.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I stated, avoiding his gaze.
Suddenly, as soon as we left the docks, he pulled me down an alley. I couldn’t help but to squeal.
“I know that you’re a girl, Jacquelyn Gold,” he said grimly.
“How do you know who I am?” I demanded, backing away from him as quickly as possible.
“You saw the Leviathan, didn’t you?” he wondered.
“Well…” I breathed. “Maybe. I think so.”
“And you could hear it talking to you, right?” he urged.
“Y-yeah….I mean, I-I think I did…” I stuttered.
“Listen,” he said forcefully. “Come to the shoreline, where we just got off, tonight around ten. There’re some people I would like you to meet.”
“O-okay…” I stammered as I watched him walk away.
Quickly, I glanced down at my watch. I had roughly about seven hours to kill, so in order to get things such as food, shelter, and clothing, I decided to go find a job to apply for. I slipped off the hoodie, since it was almost eighty degrees outside. Underneath, I had on a white slashed V-necked T-shirt with a violet tank top under that. I tied my hoodie around my waist and continued on after stuffing my beanie in my bag. I ruffled my hair along the way and lifted my head. I was a punk and proud of it.
Someone randomly walked up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders and said, “Hey, pretty lady.”
I looked over to see some snobby-looking rich kid type. I quickly shrugged him off.
“Can I help you?” I growled.
“Tell me your name, hot stuff,” he grinned.
“Jacquelyn,” I sighed.
“I don’t care,” I scoffed as I turned down an alleyway with him still following.
It didn’t seem as if I would be able to shake him…