Several long seconds of waiting anxiously later, somebody answered. "Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, this is Mr. Duffel the headmaster's secretary, Miss Jenson, how can I help you?"
Cole cleared his throat. "Ah, mm, this is Mr.--" He coughed. That was terrible! It sounded more like a mix of Curly and Gollem than his dad!
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" The feminine voice squeaked into his ear. Cole gripped the phone and raised his voice, assuming the firm, precise tone of his dad. "This is, ah, Mr. Lou Brookstone."
"Why hello, Mr. Brookstone," The secretary chirped cheerily. "I trust you are doing well? We are happy to know that your son will be attending our school--"
"Yeah, uh, about that..." Cole twisted the telephone wire nervously in his hands. "...A, uh, problem occurred recently, and Cole cannot attend your school this year. Will you please inform Mr. Duffel?"
"Yes, of course." Miss Jenson replied. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No, no, everything's fine--"
"So, Mr. Brookstone, what about the charges? I assume you want us to make an adjustment...a refund?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary, just leaves things as they are."
"Very good, then. Thank you, Mr. Brookstone."
Cole slammed the receiver and ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, black hair. 'Step 2: Done.' He thought to himself. 'Step 3: Disappearing.'
After his heart had slowed down a bit, he left the booth and walked down the crowded halls, trying to blend in with the crowd. Surely nobody would remember a messily-haired teen with a backpack leaving the station? Sweat grew cold under his armpits, making him shiver. He walked fast, praying nobody would stop him. He found the main exit and stepped out.
He left the parking lot and headed toward a lonely field, with only a few shrubs dotted here and there. Would anyone notice him? Would anybody somehow know who he was and call his father?
Several long seconds of waiting anxiously later, somebody answered. "Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, this is Mr. Duffel the headmaster's secretary, Miss Jenson, how can I help you?"
Cole cleared his throat. "Ah, mm, this is Mr.--" He coughed. That was terrible! It sounded more like a mix of Curly and Gollem than his dad!
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" The feminine voice squeaked into his ear. Cole gripped the phone and raised his voice, assuming the firm, precise tone of his dad. "This is, ah, Mr. Lou Brookstone."
"Why hello, Mr. Brookstone," The secretary chirped cheerily. "I trust you are doing well? We are happy to know that your son will be attending our school--"
"Yeah, uh, about that..." Cole twisted the telephone wire nervously in his hands. "...A, uh, problem occurred recently, and Cole cannot attend your school this year. Will you please inform Mr. Duffel?"
"Yes, of course." Miss Jenson replied. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No, no, everything's fine--"
"So, Mr. Brookstone, what about the charges? I assume you want us to make an adjustment...a refund?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary, just leaves things as they are."
"Very good, then. Thank you, Mr. Brookstone."
Cole slammed the receiver and ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, black hair. 'Step 2: Done.' He thought to himself. 'Step 3: Disappearing.'
After his heart had slowed down a bit, he left the booth and walked down the crowded halls, trying to blend in with the crowd. Surely nobody would remember a messily-haired teen with a backpack leaving the station? Sweat grew cold under his armpits, making him shiver. He walked fast, praying nobody would stop him. He found the main exit and stepped out.
He left the parking lot and headed toward a lonely field, with only a few shrubs dotted here and there. Would anyone notice him? Would anybody somehow know who he was and call his father?
I wasn't an active user on the Ninjago Stories Forum, but for some reason this first chapter seems very familiar. I may have read the first chapter once before.
I've been moderating a few of your these posts and they're great!
Really? Huh, that's cool.
Thank you!
Yeah. I didn't read the whole thing at the time, so I guess now I can finally read it.
Several long seconds of waiting anxiously later, somebody answered. "Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, this is Mr. Duffel the headmaster's secretary, Miss Jenson, how can I help you?"
Cole cleared his throat. "Ah, mm, this is Mr.--" He coughed. That was terrible! It sounded more like a mix of Curly and Gollem than his dad!
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" The feminine voice squeaked into his ear. Cole gripped the phone and raised his voice, assuming the firm, precise tone of his dad. "This is, ah, Mr. Lou Brookstone."
"Why hello, Mr. Brookstone," The secretary chirped cheerily. "I trust you are doing well? We are happy to know that your son will be attending our school--"
"Yeah, uh, about that..." Cole twisted the telephone wire nervously in his hands. "...A, uh, problem occurred recently, and Cole cannot attend your school this year. Will you please inform Mr. Duffel?"
"Yes, of course." Miss Jenson replied. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No, no, everything's fine--"
"So, Mr. Brookstone, what about the charges? I assume you want us to make an adjustment...a refund?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary, just leaves things as they are."
"Very good, then. Thank you, Mr. Brookstone."
Cole slammed the receiver and ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, black hair. 'Step 2: Done.' He thought to himself. 'Step 3: Disappearing.'
After his heart had slowed down a bit, he left the booth and walked down the crowded halls, trying to blend in with the crowd. Surely nobody would remember a messily-haired teen with a backpack leaving the station? Sweat grew cold under his armpits, making him shiver. He walked fast, praying nobody would stop him. He found the main exit and stepped out.
He left the parking lot and headed toward a lonely field, with only a few shrubs dotted here and there. Would anyone notice him? Would anybody somehow know who he was and call his father?
Nobody saw Cole.
I want to hear this mix of Curly and Gollum!
XD Someone should make a mixed impression and record it for the whole world to enjoy.
Cole left the city lights far behind and trotted through the tall grass, hoping he wouldn't step on a snake or something. The stormy noise of the city gradually faded away into the distance, until nothing but a faint hum could be heard. The tall, dry grass poked and prodded at his legs, swishing quietly at every footstep.
He slowed to a stop and took a deep breath. The annoying little voice chanted no more. The only voice in his head was his own, crying out triumphantly. 'I did it! I escaped! I really did it!'
He lifted his head to the heavens above. Only five or six stars twinkled down on him now, for the sky was a shade lighter than it was, midnight blue slowly turning into an oil paint-like mix of gold pink and deep blue. A soft breeze picked up and gently played with his hair, humming a tuneless song. Not a creature stirred, save for a lone Bush Warbler, chirping its twittering call off in the distance. All was was still.
Cole felt as if a huge weight on his chest had lifted, and he could breathe again. He stood there, enjoying the smell of the wind whistling across the plain.
He sighed, then got his headphones from his backpack. He slipped on the headset, which muffled the sound of the quiet morning, and pressed a button. A rock song started playing, and a masculine voice sang.
I'm not falling for anymore of these tricks,
I'm so tired of everything here,
The sun is calling me to the west,
Everyone's having fun out there!
My bags are packed
And I'm looking out the window,
Everything is so outdated here!
I want to move west to where the sun is shining,
I want my friends to all be there!
As the rapid beat of drums and guitars fired, the world faded until there was nothing left but the rocking, jumping music. The beat sped up for the chorus, becoming thunder.
Several long seconds of waiting anxiously later, somebody answered. "Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, this is Mr. Duffel the headmaster's secretary, Miss Jenson, how can I help you?"
Cole cleared his throat. "Ah, mm, this is Mr.--" He coughed. That was terrible! It sounded more like a mix of Curly and Gollem than his dad!
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" The feminine voice squeaked into his ear. Cole gripped the phone and raised his voice, assuming the firm, precise tone of his dad. "This is, ah, Mr. Lou Brookstone."
"Why hello, Mr. Brookstone," The secretary chirped cheerily. "I trust you are doing well? We are happy to know that your son will be attending our school--"
"Yeah, uh, about that..." Cole twisted the telephone wire nervously in his hands. "...A, uh, problem occurred recently, and Cole cannot attend your school this year. Will you please inform Mr. Duffel?"
"Yes, of course." Miss Jenson replied. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No, no, everything's fine--"
"So, Mr. Brookstone, what about the charges? I assume you want us to make an adjustment...a refund?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary, just leaves things as they are."
"Very good, then. Thank you, Mr. Brookstone."
Cole slammed the receiver and ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, black hair. 'Step 2: Done.' He thought to himself. 'Step 3: Disappearing.'
After his heart had slowed down a bit, he left the booth and walked down the crowded halls, trying to blend in with the crowd. Surely nobody would remember a messily-haired teen with a backpack leaving the station? Sweat grew cold under his armpits, making him shiver. He walked fast, praying nobody would stop him. He found the main exit and stepped out.
He left the parking lot and headed toward a lonely field, with only a few shrubs dotted here and there. Would anyone notice him? Would anybody somehow know who he was and call his father?
Nobody saw Cole.
Pretty easy to imitate your dad when you're both voiced by the same actor.
Oh yay you're posting it here! So many memories! Definitely going to be re-reading this! ( and I'll respectfully put any spoiler comments in jammers. )
I'm already feeling nostalgic. . . was it really only a year ago? (Good idea. )
Several long seconds of waiting anxiously later, somebody answered. "Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, this is Mr. Duffel the headmaster's secretary, Miss Jenson, how can I help you?"
Cole cleared his throat. "Ah, mm, this is Mr.--" He coughed. That was terrible! It sounded more like a mix of Curly and Gollem than his dad!
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" The feminine voice squeaked into his ear. Cole gripped the phone and raised his voice, assuming the firm, precise tone of his dad. "This is, ah, Mr. Lou Brookstone."
"Why hello, Mr. Brookstone," The secretary chirped cheerily. "I trust you are doing well? We are happy to know that your son will be attending our school--"
"Yeah, uh, about that..." Cole twisted the telephone wire nervously in his hands. "...A, uh, problem occurred recently, and Cole cannot attend your school this year. Will you please inform Mr. Duffel?"
"Yes, of course." Miss Jenson replied. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No, no, everything's fine--"
"So, Mr. Brookstone, what about the charges? I assume you want us to make an adjustment...a refund?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary, just leaves things as they are."
"Very good, then. Thank you, Mr. Brookstone."
Cole slammed the receiver and ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, black hair. 'Step 2: Done.' He thought to himself. 'Step 3: Disappearing.'
After his heart had slowed down a bit, he left the booth and walked down the crowded halls, trying to blend in with the crowd. Surely nobody would remember a messily-haired teen with a backpack leaving the station? Sweat grew cold under his armpits, making him shiver. He walked fast, praying nobody would stop him. He found the main exit and stepped out.
He left the parking lot and headed toward a lonely field, with only a few shrubs dotted here and there. Would anyone notice him? Would anybody somehow know who he was and call his father?
That I do, which makes the task even more daunting. 
-- maybe it's a low self-esteem thing on my part. 
Maybe. You need to have more trust in yourself. 
![[lenny]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/7elNEqtPK2hcSAiIMFNh.png)
She's even got me reading this positive-thinking book as part of my daily school routine now. 
