Here’s part of my story I’m working on. This is my first time sharing anyone any of my stories, except for Kat. So here goes!
“I think we’ve got some spying to do, Mel.”
Of course, I already know this. I feel it in my bones. Besides, I just saw her brat of a cousin sneak upstairs, the ray of the moonlight making his blond hair shine for a moment.
“Okay, let’s go.”
We sneak upstairs, trying not to let her cousin, Dylan, hear. Creak, creak, creak. We hear Dylan’s footsteps tiptoe up the stairs, trying not to wake anyone up. I look at my wristwatch, complete with a recording feature, camera feature, and obviously, it can tell time, too. 12:03, the clock reads.
Dylan tiptoes down the hallway, creak, creak, creak, until he reaches the back door, the extra room. In my house, we have two extra rooms, just for guests. However, his room is downstairs, ha ha, so I know his little plan. Let me guess, hmm, first he will look around a bit, since he doesn’t know where It is, he’ll eventually find it and then read it. Oops, sorry, I forgot to tell you what It is. It’s my spy notebook. He got suspicious, and I accidentally whispered Its location when I was quietly talking to myself (and no, I am NOT crazy. Far from it.). I guess he overheard, and now he is looking for It.
“Mel. Mel!” she whispers harshly.
“What now, Angelina?” I whisper back. Angelina is my BFF, my partner in crime, my… my… oh, well, you get the point.
“He found It!” she whisper-screams, as she’s looking through the keyhole.
“Oh, no he doesn’t!” I whisper-scream back.
I quickly slam open the door, turn on the light, and scream in Dylan’s face.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU FREAK!”
Dylan’s face turns pale, while the hand that’s holding The Notebook clutches it harder, and for a moment, he has this look on his face. Fear. Then the look comes off, replaced with a look of determination, and he runs away with The Notebook.
Angelina and I look at each other and scream together,
We race down the hallway, down the stairway, and into the hallway to where his bedroom is.
“Hurry, Angelina! He’s going to close the door on us!”
We run harder, faster than we did in our entire lifetime, because The Notebook is something very important. It’s our shell, our cocoon, from the rest of the outside world, a place to put all our spying notes that we collected as a team in. And if I know Dylan from this past week he’s came here, he’s going to do something bad to it, like read it and rip out the pages just to flush them down the toilet, or tell the notes to everyone he meets. The latter seems like the worst choice, and he knows it. That’s why we need to GRAB IT OUT OF HIS GRUBBY TEN YEAR-OLD FINGERS AND GET THE HECK OUT OF THERE, before Angelina’s aunt, uncle and our parents find out.
Stomp, stomp, stomp. That’s what we sound like, a herd of elephants chasing after one another.
He slams the door in our faces and locks it. Ugh. Well, there is only one thing to do, and I’ve got to do it quick.
I open the secret compartment of my watch and take out the key that unlocks every room in the house. I push the key into the door, twist it, and slam open the door.
“GIVE IT TO HER!” Angelina screams.
“NEVER!” he screams, and tries to scramble under the bed, but he’s too slow, so I catch him first, scramble on top of him, and lock his arms to the ground. All three of us are breathing hard, but I manage to whisper out something in my very creepy voice.
“Where’d you hide it, slug-face?”
“Why should I tell you?” he spits at me.
“Tell her, or I’m going to do something I’ll never regret!” Angelina screams in his face, holding up a pair of scissors. She hands me a pair, too. We raise up our scissors and…
“HELP! HELP! HEL-” he gets cut off by my hand covering his mouth. Of course, we would never kill someone purposely (we were just nine!), so we knew we were joking. But Dylan didn’t.
However, before any of us could understand what happened next, it happens. The worst thing that could happen in a spy’s career…
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Angelina’s dad screams at us, his face turning a bright purple.
We get caught.
* * *
Whew. So there you have it. The prologue of The Notebook. So what do you guys think? I’ll accept all comments. Does it need work? Is it book-worthy?
I’ll post the next part next week. See you then! 🙂