NaNoWriMo WIP Snippet

As promised, here is a snippet of the WIP I’m writing for NaNoWriMo.

My usual disclaimer applies. This is a very rough draft. I’ll be overjoyed at any feedback or constructive criticism, just try to remember that constructive is the operative word here 😉

***

Meg settled Mr. Floppy on her bed against the pillow and looked around. It wasn’t quite home, but it would do. She’d made it as comfortable as she could, but it still seemed stark and impersonal somehow. She wished that it looked more like her room. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so homesick.

Everyone had walked with her to the school’s entrance. It was actually an old boarded up storefront next to an antique store that no one ever went to. There’d been hugs and kisses and more than a few tears.

She’d gotten a few nifty presents from her friends. A journal she could write notes in that would appear in a matching journal that Kristen had. It was better than email, especially considering that her laptop wouldn’t function at the school.

Trey had, naturally, given her a completely inappropriate box of magical pranks. Candy to turn your teeth green, disappearing ink, stink bombs, and other things she was afraid to touch. Nevermind the fact that she’d have no one but herself and the mysterious teacher to use them on.

Jamie gave her a whistle. She’d thanked him, confused, and tucked it into her pocket.

He’d reached into her pocket and pulled it back out.

“Blow.”

Meg blinked.

“You know what I mean. Perv.”

So she’d blown the whistle. It was even weirder because it didn’t make any noise. “I think it’s broken, sweetie.”

“Not at all. It’s magic, goof. If you’re in trouble, blow the whistle. It lights up my bracelet,” he shoved said bracelet under her nose and sure enough, it was flashing red. “I can come rescue you and bring the calvary along with me,”

Wow. That was pretty neat. Also, totally like him to give her something to defend herself with.

“Gee, and here I was thinking you didn’t care.”

Meg had stalled as long as she could, but eventually all the goodbyes had been said and a last round of hugs given.

She’d stepped through the door and into the school.

It was incredible. Gold laced marble floors, warmly glowing chandeliers, dark rich wood. There were even tapestries hanging on the walls for crying out loud. Soft and rich, depicting all kinds of scenes that Meg had read about in fairy tales and never thought were actually based in truth.

She’d looked around, wondering if she was supposed to check in and where. It was so quiet that Meg felt like she was in a library and worried that she might be breathing too loud.

Meg’s bags had torn themselves from her grip and started floating off up the stairs. Bemused, she’d followed. Clearly being alone at school was far more literal than she’d thought it would be.

So now she was sitting in her room, missing her parents and familiar surroundings, trying not to cry. She refused to give in to such a childish thing as tears on her very first day. The tears started to leak out anyway. She needed a distraction, like now, or she’d be bawling like a baby.

She seized on her Dad’s demonstration of magic powers. Her room could look more like home. Thanking her Dad, Meg closed her eyes and concentrated. She didn’t want it to look just like home, that would only make things worse. But it needed to look more like her.

As she pictured things, the room around her transformed. The plain white walls, became papered in delicately swirled blues and greens, the loops and whorls resembling ocean waves. The bare wooden floor acquired a plush, blue carpet that felt silky and warm under her feet.

Next, a comfy green couch appeared in front of the fireplace with a low stone coffee table in front of it. Bookshelves grew into the wall next to the fireplace and a spacious desk settled itself under the window.

Much better. This was a room she could live in for the next year. Feeling happier, but a bit drained, Meg lay down and snuggled her bunny. A short nap wouldn’t hurt and she was sure that if she had to be somewhere, she’d be fetched.

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