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Post by comicforce on Apr 10, 2014 13:04:30 GMT
Awesome! Thanks Amelia this is getting so good!
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Post by prissieb on Apr 10, 2014 17:21:15 GMT
And then I'm going on holiday for a few days… Thanks Amelia, can't wait to read more, but enjoy your holiday also
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Post by LdySpace on Apr 10, 2014 21:36:58 GMT
See, acting casual worked! I won't push my luck and beg for more (unless it would work??), so have a great holiday and I will be looking forward to your next chapter(s)!
I can't get the vision of Dr. Baker from Little House on the Prairie out of my mind.
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Post by comicforce on Apr 11, 2014 7:10:49 GMT
LOL! Dr Baker... Amelia's probably far too young to even have heard of that show.
Sent from my Nexus 7 using Tapatalk
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 12:39:43 GMT
Hahahahahaha… I have no idea what you guys are on about. New chapter coming later! Perhaps. Or maybe tomorrow. Whenever I get rid of this damned jet lag and actually write it! But I know what I'm writing, so that's good. And it won't take me long to write it
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 14:56:36 GMT
Take a Bullet I'm here *collapses on chair* Luckily for you lot, being tired makes me want to write more. So here you are. You probably won't be able to even handle the amount of drama in this chapter {Chapter Five}ONE MONTH LATER
Chris drank the last drop of his lemonade and felt it cool his throat. The pills had worked; he could step outside with his friends without fearing his death.
They were in the pub — Guy with some cola, and Jonny and Will each with a beer. It wasn't the sort of place that Chris usually found himself, but he didn't want to pass up the opportunity, especially since he'd lost so much valuable time with his friends. The music burst through the speakers, finding its way into Chris's ears. It was horribly loud. Didn't these people think about their safety?
“Should we go back to The Bakery?” Jonny shouted to the rest of the table, and they all nodded in agreement.
The evening air was thick and sharp. They walked, wrapped in their coats, down the street and round the corner, towards their recording studio.
“Has anyone got a key?” asked Chris.
“Just go in. I think Phil said he was in today,” Will answered. Chris obliged and pushed the door open, and turned a light on as they filed inside one by one.
“What's that noise?” asked Guy.
“What noise?” the others said.
“Listen.”
They could hear a scratching and a kind of muffled screaming coming from the cupboard to their right. Jonny pulled the door open.
“Phil? What on earth…” he said, his voice drifting into the distance. Phil was tied to a chair, with tape over his mouth. His eyes were shouting at his friends to release him — and they did.
“There are crazy people all over this place,” said Phil, breathing heavily. “They've got guns and they tied me to a chair and…” he slumped onto the floor. Chris could feel his hands starting to judder violently. He felt as though his blood was thinning and his head was shrinking; he watched the drugs that had kept him alive for the last month leave his bloodstream.
“Phil, get up,” Jonny said, offering a hand which Phil gladly took. The five of them then stumbled out of the cupboard.
“Got a fan club, have we?” The man stood in front of them. He had a gun held aloft in front of Phil's head.
“Stop looking so scared. I'm just the guard. Wait until you see the real danger,” he said, starting to form a smirk around the corners of his mouth.
Suddenly, Guy gave the guard a sharp kick between the legs and another to the head, knocking him out cold. The gun clattered to the floor, and Guy picked it up. The others stared at him in shock.
“Guy… where the hell did you learn to do that?” Chris said, his voice getting more urgent.
“No time,” Guy replied, “I'll explain later. But we need to go upstairs and see what else is happening here.”
“I should probably stay down here,” Phil said. “I'll just hold you guys back. I'll stay and keep watch; you lot go upstairs.”
“Are you sure?” Will asked.
“Just go!”
The four of them slunk up the stairs, keeping close to the wall as they went. As they reached the top step, they suddenly froze. A woman was stood there, the heavy handle of a gun resting between her palms.
“Hello…” she said, looking at each of the men in turn. They came into the room and stood in front of her. They looked deep into her eyes to try and find out who she was and why she was there.
Suddenly, Chris realised.
“You were my bloody psychiatrist!” he shouted, stepping forward. “You liar!”
“And it's nice to see you too, Christopher,” she said, her face completely straight. Her mouth let out a small laugh.
“But you gave me some drugs! Some stupid drugs, and they worked!”
“Placebo effect,” she whispered and pulled the same tight smile she had done a month earlier in the office. “Now,” she continued, “which one of you should I kill first? There's you… well, you're lucky, aren't you?” Will stared back at her, his face boiling over with rage. “And then… well… then it just gets difficult. But you're annoying. So I'll let you go first.” Chris could see the bullet floating in front of his face, ready to meet him. He took a deep breath in.
“No!” said Jonny, pushing himself in front of Chris. “You'll have to get through me before you can kill him!” He paused for breath. “Nothing is going to make me move!”
“What's this?” she replied, her face lit up with shock. “How sweet. You two will make a lovely couple on the other side. No one minds there,” she said and winked. Jonny held his arms out.
“Go on then.”
She aimed the gun between his eyes and said “It's going to be a lot of fun killing you.”
“You won't have to kill anyone!” Guy shouted. Now his gun was raised.
But it wasn't aimed at her.
“I'm going to kill all three of them. And then I'll kill myself.” His hand was shaking violently in the air. “How stupid you are to think that we won't die at the hands of each other. It was always meant to happen like this. And now I'm ending it.”
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Post by prissieb on Apr 16, 2014 19:53:35 GMT
Didn;t see that coming. Glad your back, Amelia!
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Post by comicforce on Apr 16, 2014 20:05:40 GMT
Wow! Yes really good to see you back Amelia!
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 20:49:18 GMT
Thanks! I'm glad to be back actually. I really enjoy writing this stuff I still can't believe how dramatic I make this stuff haha
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Post by LdySpace on Apr 16, 2014 21:18:11 GMT
You know, writing is good for jet lag. It's true. I'm sure it's written SOMEWHERE.... Welcome back, and THANKS for completely shocking me! Like Prissie, I did not see that coming! (Love the Buckin'!)
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 21:41:16 GMT
Well you can't have a coldplay fanfic without Buckin! I had to put it in. The opportunity was too good to miss!
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Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2014 15:25:16 GMT
Take a Bullet I meant to do my homework, but I wrote this instead {Chapter Six}Guy felt his arm muscles start to tense as he steadied his grip.
“Guy…” Will said, his voice starting to fade.
“It's for your own good, Will,” Guy replied. The cold metal started to warm up and his palms were sweating heavily. He could feel his vision starting to slip out of place; his pulse was all he could hear, beating heavily in his eardrums.
Guy closed his eyes and placed his index finger over the trigger. All he had to do was pull a few times and it would all just melt away. He took a deep breath in.
But a sudden crashing noise broke through his thoughts and his eyelids pulled themselves open. Dr Baker turned towards the source of the noise, and Guy realised.
He'd never get a better opportunity.
Without thinking, he pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced her skull. The sound shook the room like an earthquake. She fell and Guy ran over to her side.
She was as pale as snow; her limbs hardly moved. Guy placed two fingers over her wrist and felt her pulse slowly fade as words tried to pass her drained lips.
And then all the colour left her face; her life was long gone.
“My God,” Chris said quietly.
“I just killed her. I killed a woman. I'm a murderer,” Guy stammered.
The breathing of the four men in the room was all that could be heard, and the truth was that they'd never been more thankful for it.
“Meow.”
Everyone simultaneously turned towards the sound. Dave the cat was sat, looking extremely pleased with herself as she perched next to the fallen lamp. She purred and rubbed her face against Guy's arm before going to see Chris, Jonny and Will, who were still stood against the opposite wall.
“What the hell happened?!” Phil cried as he reached the top of the stairs.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed.
And Guy knew they were for him.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 15:30:58 GMT
Take a Bullet Hellooooo. Hope you enjoy {Chapter Seven}“There's a visitor here to see you,” said the prison guard, holding the door open as Keshia walked in. “One hour, no more,” he ordered and left.
She sat down and Guy pulled her quickly into a hug, which she happily returned.
“I'm so glad you're here,” he said quietly.
“I know… and I'm glad to see you too.”
“How are the guys?”
“They're missing you. Lots. They have no idea what to do without you, especially Jonny, the poor soul. But they're managing… in a way,” she uttered, her face sinking.
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Look, Guy, I've got something to tell you.”
“What…” He felt his stomach start to turn as he waited for the answer.
“I'm pregnant.”
Guy's face fell. He was completely lost for words. On the one hand, he was over the moon. But on the other…
“That's… it's… I'm…”
“I know. How the hell am I going to manage?”
“Look, it's not like we're out of funds.”
“That's not what worries me, Guy.”
“I'm sorry,” he whispered and threw himself into another hug. “I promise I'll help in every way I can.”
After she had left, he didn't move for a long time. No thoughts crossed his mind; no sound turned his head. He simply existed.
The room was empty, expect for guilt, who sat in the opposite corner, staring.
And what a torturous stare it was. {Chapter Eight }Ellen-Rose Berryman was born nine months later. She was the most brilliant mix of her parents, yet much more innocent, for the evil of the world had not yet crossed her path.
Keshia was very honest with her daughter from the start. She always knew that there was no 'right time' to tell a child such a story. So she explained it, slowly adding in the details as she got older.
From a young age, Ellen-Rose always had a strange interest in science. It intrigued her; the way the particles fit together and worked as a single unit. As far as she was concerned, anything that required a microscope to be seen was something worth seeing. She would often spend hours at a time holed up in her room, trying new experiments and reading about different elements.
She was somewhat of a recluse, yet strangely popular with her peers. She knew what to put in the teacher's tea to make them go crazy. She knew when someone was lying and she could, to an extent, deduce what they were really thinking. The other children regarded her as a genius at school, but one to be careful of. No one ever dared to get on the wrong side of her.
She saw her father twice a month, and as a toddler she enjoyed these visits very much. But as she grew older, they became more of an interrogation session for her parents. She wanted to know anything and everything about the circumstances of her birth and why exactly Guy was in prison. Yet however many times they told the story, it never satisfied her.
She was always looking for more, but she never found it. She never showed any emotion for other people, family or otherwise, no matter how much love they gave her.
Eventually, the time came for her to go to university. Her parents, of course, were devastated that their child was leaving them. But she saw it as an adventure, a final release from what she'd had to live with her whole life.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 16:05:10 GMT
Take a Bullet It's safe to say that I'm in a writing mood {Chapter Nine}Ellen-Rose hated her halls of residence. Any place that involved living in close proximity to other people irritated her; there was always a party going on, or someone encouraging her to go to the gym. She didn't take much interest in any of it; she spent most of her time in her bedroom, reading or experimenting in the same way she'd always done.
Today was just another of those days. Her afternoon reading session was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door.
“What?” she shouted. “You know what, just come in.” A black-haired boy entered the room. He was on the same course as her, so his face stuck in her mind. It was quite round, with large, bright blue eyes and a thin mouth.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly, thrusting his hands in his pockets. Ellen-Rose dropped her book onto her stomach with a satisfying thud.
“Which piece of work do you need help with? I charge a fiver an hour plus tax,” she mumbled sarcastically.
“It's not that. I was just wondering… are you doing anything? Tonight, I mean?”
“No. And that no includes anything with you.”
“Ok…” He was taken aback after that comment. “The name's Tom by the way. But you probably knew that already.” He paused for a moment, and sat down at the end of the bed. “It's a nice room you've got here.”
“You like the periodic table and open brickwork, do you?”
“There's a reason I'm on this course.” There was another long silence. “What about tomorrow?”
“Shut up,” she snapped.
“It was worth a try. You're never out, are you?”
“Outside's just inside but colder.”
“I mean out out. As in, you know, going somewhere other than a lecture?”
“If I wanted to then I would. Plus someone would want to come with me.”
“What's so bad about that?”
“Other people irritate me. And I probably irritate them, so there's no point.”
“Why do other people annoy you?”
“Because I spent half my childhood in a psychiatrist's office, that's why! Those people are stupid. They say they're trying to help, but… it never worked, did it? I'm living proof of that.”
Tom stood up again and walked past the desk that occupied the opposite wall. There were all manner of strange substances in containers and under microscopes.
“Does everyone annoy you? Even your parents?”
She paused for a moment before saying, “They're the worst.”
“But your dad was in a band, wasn't he?”
“You've done your homework. Anyway, why should that make any difference?”
“Well, they were pretty big.”
“Until I came along, that is. If that band had never existed, he wouldn't be where he is today, and that'd be better for us all, wouldn't it?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Haven't you got places to be?”
“Fine. Well, bye.” And with that, he left the room. Ellen shook her head slowly. Why couldn't she just keep these things to herself?
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 19:28:18 GMT
Take a Bullet This is the last chapter I'm sorry to say. This has been fun, hasn't it? Haha. Anyway… READ IT. {Chapter Ten}TWO MONTHS LATER
Ellen stood back and took it in. She'd finally finished her creation. It was massive — it filled most of the room — but it was hers. She felt a great sense of triumph at having built it out of old scrap metal and odd wires she'd found around the place. It was brilliant… like the Statue of Liberty, or the Eiffel Tower. Except it was better than that. This was life changing.
She sat down on the bed and looked at her alarm clock. One in the morning. No one would be awake now, would they?
She flicked a switch on the side and watched the entire machine light up all over with a brilliant blue light. The excitement was almost too much to handle, but there was one more thing she needed to do.
She reached under her bed and pulled out a black box. As she took off the lid, she saw exactly what she was looking for. The gun was almost pristine; she'd stolen it while on holiday somewhere as a child. She took it out of the box and relaxed as she gripped the handle.
All of a sudden there was a knock.
“Go away!” she shouted urgently, pushing the gun back under the bed.
“What are you doing in there?” came the reply. She recognised the voice instantly as Tom's.
“Nothing.”
He ignored what she'd said and practically kicked the door open.
“What the…” he said, his voice fading.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Ellen laughed. She picked up the gun, which made Tom step back in shock. Then, she opened a door on the front of the machine and walked inside. “Have a nice day,” she said and winked.
And then she pressed a button.
She suddenly felt as though she was being whisked upwards and thrown around from side to side. Her stomach turned somersaults, and it took all her strength not to let go of the item in her hand.
She landed, with a jolt, on a London street. The machine was nowhere to be seen, but she didn't care. All she cared about was what she had come for.
“It worked,” she whispered. Then her voice came up to normal level. “I built a time machine!” She basked in the moment for a second, and then a thought popped into her head. “Wait, I haven't been born yet… I need a name. Emily… Baker. Yes, Emily Baker. Dr Emily Baker,” she laughed.
She looked around and took in the scenery. Exactly where in London was she?
She almost didn't see him coming, but a man walked right past her, towards a shop at the end of the street. Wait… wasn't that… what was his name? Will?
Yes, that was Will. Will the drummer.
She held up her gun and aimed at the back of Will's head. “Say goodbye,” she breathed.
And pulled the trigger.
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