FicWad

Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything at all for a public veiwing. I'm glad i stumbled upon this site when following a link to read further into a story posted here on another site. I'm curious as to how my writing will be taken, so i made it a make it or break it mentallity. This segment here is from the cream of the crop of any of my musings/writings. This is one thing i had intended on publishing in its fullest at some later date, yet i have no one to critique my writings except for two three tops friends that I've even allowed to look at my "story". I can only ask that please be honest and fair with any comments you post on this or other things i post on this story of mine, I'd like to use them as an informal way of measuring how i think i write compared to how others think i write. Depending on the reviews, I may post several of the other chapters. So, now that i have said all of this, please enjoy the first chapter in my story.
Chapter 1
An Introduction of Sorts
"Good morning class! And how were all of your weekends?" Greets Ms. Paterson to her kindergarten class. A cacophony of noise erupts as twenty six children all start talking at the same time. She waits a couple seconds, then lifts a small bell off her desk and starts tinkling it. The tiny voices quiet down and she starts speaking again. "Now class, do you remember what I told you we would be doing today?"
"Who's comin' to talk to us?" questions a little boy.
"Yeah whoo?" questions a girl.
All the children start talking again, asking "Who is it? What's he look like? Did he bring snacks?"
Ms. Paterson waits again, and then tinkles her little bell until they settle down again. "Well I don't know how we are going to have our guest come if my class won't stop interrupting. We may not have enough time." she says nicely. "Should I tell our guest to leave?"
"NOOOO!" all the kids say.
Ms. Paterson giggles. "Good. Now, let us show our guest how polite we are and be good listeners. Can we do that? Give a clap if you think we can." All the kids clap once or twice in response. "Good! Now our guest should be here any time now." she encourages with a smile.
Three loud, steady, knocks are heard form the door, and Ms. P. quickly walks to the door. "Okay class, let's give our guest a good welcome!" the teacher says, opening the door. She looks out into the hallway, looks back into the class, and says theatrically, "Oh no class! There is no one at our door! Who could have knocked on our door?"
"Well Ms. Paterson, I did!" says someone from the other side of the room. All heads turn towards the speaker. There stands a pretty teenage girl leaning up against the wall. All the boys blush.
"Are you the speaker?" asks a girl.
The teen pushes herself off the wall and shakes her head, throwing her lower back length, wavy, brown, hair around. "Yes I am." she says nicely.
"And who are you Miss? I was expecting an adult to be the class's speaker today, not a high schooler." questions Ms. Paterson.
"Oh but I am the guest speaker today." She responds happily. "And I was home schooled. I didn't go to high school." Not much could be told of her appearance. She was wearing a pair of baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, and big, dark sunglasses. She was small, closer to five feet tall than six and thin, but still she seemed to fill the room. "My name is Sara!"
"Well then I guess you are my class’s guest today." says Ms. Paterson with a discreet wink to Sara. "Say hi class!"
"Hi Sara!" they almost shout.
"Whatcha gonna talk with us about?" asks another little girl.
"Well I thought I was going to tell all of you a story." and the class has a group "OOOH" in response.
Why are you wearing those gwasses?" pipes in another kid.
Oh yes, I'm sorry but sunglasses aren't allowed to be worn inside without special permission." points out the teacher with a small smile.
"These?" says Sara pointing to the shades. "These are a part of my story. I'll take them off when I'm done telling it. Now, who here has a favorite super hero?" another wave of noise hits the room as they all tell their favorite at the same time. "Raise your hands, not your voices!" Laughs Sara over the noise.
The children quiet down somewhat and a few raise their hands. "Okay, who is your favorite super hero?" she asks a boy at the front of the class.
"Superman!" he yells.
"And yours is?" she asks of a girl.
"Cat Woman." the girl says. "She looks like a kitty."
"Who is yours?" she asks a second boy.
"Captain Underpants!" he says enthusiastically. The room giggles.
"That's a good choice, and they all are. Now, all super heroes have something in common. Their special powers and abilities." Sara says casually as she starts to stroll among the class. "The story I have come to tell is about a very close family that have these powers." Ms. Paterson watches with a smile on her face.
"I'm not saying that they can fly, or transform, or shoot laser beams from their eyes. But they are fast, strong, and very wise. They live far beyond the lives of a normal human, yet they look no different from anyone else. Welllll," she pauses dramatically, "there is one difference that can be seen."
"What is that Sara?" Questions the teacher.
Their eyes are what set them apart from everyone else." Sara responds while pointing at her big sunglasses. "You see, this family is what can be called a cousin of vampires. And long ago, humans feared and hated the vampire's cousins because they thought that they were their cousins, so they hid their eyes so they wouldn't scare away those people that they wanted to be friends with. Nowadays this family is trying to come back into human human and don't know if they will be accepted. Many might still think that they ARE their bloodsucking cousins and reject them or attack them." she says pantomiming fangs.
"Who awe they?" asks a little boy.
"Well, they refer to themselves as 'The Family.'" responds Sara simply. She stops walking around the room and sits on a corner of the teacher's desk. "They are very private and cautious and live across the world. None of them know how many of their relatives there truly are. Best guess at close to half a million. Or in other words, a lot. But not nearly as many as there are normal people. Maybe why they don't know how many is because they have no last names." She gives a dramatic shrug of her shoulders. "Knowing who they are goes more by eye color than last name."
"Do they even have first names?" jokes Ms. Paterson.
"Oh why yes they surely do. Many have names typical to where they live. Like John or Amy or Steven."

"Do they have funny names?" questions a girl excitedly.
Sara pushes herself slowly off the desk with a playful look of contemplation to her posture. "A few of the older members have funny names yes. Some aren't even in modern languages. When translated into English they have names like Star Eyes, Ember, Rhonin, which is a warrior in Asian culture, and Omid Javed, which is hard to get into English but it means something like Hope Eternal in an old language called Persian." There are a few giggles around the room. Sara continues, "I believe there is also an elder named River Oak as well but I am not sure. Each of these Family members has distinct eye colors, most likely giving good description to their names."

Sara continues her stroll between the desks. "Beyond names, which some are funny sounding," Sara admits, pausing for more giggles, "these people are very protective. You see, they believe that human life should be protected. Something that lives such a short life compared to theirs yet can be the difference between saving a life, a city, a country, or destroying it must be protected from the evils of other things or people."
"That's quite a statement Sara." compliments the teacher. "They would have to live very near others to be able to promise that kind of protection."
"Oh they do."
"Do they fight monsters and bad guys?" asks a kid.
"Well maybe not monsters and super villains, but they do stop bad guys and fight a bit of crime. Someone gets kidnapped, and police can't or won't handle it, they step in, but secretly, so no one knows they get involved."
"So they protect people from cwimes and vio-violence?" asks the same little kid, struggling around the last word.
"Good use of big words Jimmy!" congratulates Ms. Paterson. She gives him a piece of candy as a reward.
"Very true. But they take no part in wars and other peoples problems in the world; if the people who lived nearby came into danger then they would solve the problem." She nods. "Who here has heard of the Family before?" Sara questions. A good six or seven hands are raised.
"My mommy says they live out on the lake." Says a smaller girl with big glasses.
"But of course these people don't actually exist. This is just a story right Sara?" says Ms. P. Slowly, fighting not to smile.
"I'm sorry to say Ms. Paterson that I don't agree with you." Sara folds her arms behind her back and shows a big smile full of pearly whites. "I believe they exist."
The class starts murmuring in small, excited voices to one another. Once again, Ms. Paterson rings her bell and her students quiet down. "And why do you believe this?"
"Because," she responds, reaching for her sunglasses, "I am a member of the Family." As the shades come off, the class starts going wild, as if she stepped out of her own story.
Here stands the same girl, yet something is different. She seems taller, her motions more fluid, but everyone is looking at her eyes.Her iris' are a blue that these kids had never seen before. They sing of playfulness, kindness, and trust and are almost a reflective, shiny blue and seem to almost glow.
"I am Sara of the blue eyed members of the Family. We do live out on the small bunch of islands a little ways out on the water from shore."
"Well I don't believe this 'Family' exists." Disagrees Ms. Paterson with a huff. She looks around the class to her students. "I want proof."
Sara walks around the rows of desks to the front corner of the room where the instructor's heavy desk sits. She looks to the teacher and says lightly, "How much do you think this desks\ weighs?"
"Maybe a couple hundred pounds. Why? What are you going to do?"
The teenager rubs her hands together and circles around to where Ms. Paterson’s rolling chair fits under the desk and moves it out from there. The children whisper to each other excitedly about what she is going to do. Sara takes a deep breath and, with no visible effort, smoothly abd efficiently dead lifts the heavy desk over her head without anything shifting or falling off the desk. She turns around slowly so the kids and the teacher can see her hands and adjusts her hands so that not only is she facing the class, she is holding up the desk only by her fingertips. Then takes one hand off the desk to pull her hair out of her eyes and plants it on her hip, comically daring the teacher to deny further what she had said.
"So, not including your monitor, tower, printer, stacks of papers, and other stuff on the desk, it weighs at least a hundred and fifty pounds I would say. Proof enough?"
Ms. Paterson covers a smile with her hand so the class cannot see and winks secretively at Sara. "Alright, so you are strong. But there are a lot of normal people who are much stronger than they appear too. I need more proof than that."
Sara puts the desk back in its proper place and leans up against the desk. She casually pulls out a big energy bar from her pocket and somehow manages to eat the eight inch bar politely in a matter of seconds. She shoves the candy wrapper in her pocket with a look of mock contemplation on her face. She smiles at the teacher and says, "Fine, that is easy enough." She looks around the room at the kids and walks with an almost fluid bounce in her step up to a little blond girl in the middle of the room. "What's your name?" Sara says to the little one sweetly.
"Becky!" She responds excitedly.
"Becky, besides being really strong, what else did I say my Family could do?"
"Live fo a long time, and be super fast. I wanna see you move really, really fast!"
Sara smiles happily at the little girl. "Okay." She responds. And then Sara disappears into thin air with a slight breeze of wind. Becky jumps and everyone looks around the room, their little eyes trying to find their missing speaker.
Ms. P walks around the room, exaggerating looking around for Sara. "Well then! Class, where did Sara go? She's disappeared! Can anyone see her around? Let's stand up and see if we can find her."
The kids all stand up and mill about the room, looking under desks and opening closets and toy chests to see if she is hiding there. Several look out the windows along one wall of the room to see if she is outside. One suddenly shouts excitedly, "I SEE HER!" And the class rushes to the window to find her outside.
Thirty feet away from the window, lying on a thick branch in a tree twenty feet off the ground, is Sara eating another candy bar and waving at the class. The sun is shining through the branches on her long, giving her wavy brown hair the appearance of a brown haired Repunsal.
"Well then class. I guess even your teacher can be wrong about some things." Ms. Paterson checks to make sure none of her pupils are looking, then holds up a poster board with the words 'Good Job Sara' written on it in large enough letters for Sara to see. The teacher leads her class outside into the warm, late spring air, and play games with Sara for the rest of class.