“Sleigh Bells Ring, Are You Listening?”

So it’s been a while.

Like, a long while. That’s not to say I haven’t been writing. I’ve written so many drafts to post on this blog, it’s not even funny. But I also decided to write a novel for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), which was November. I am very pleased to say that I reached the goal of 50,000 words! Woo-hoo!

 

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On the blog’s Facebook page, I had said I was going to share an excerpt of the novel here, and finally, here it is for your viewing pleasure! I hope you enjoy it and it entices you, because I’m going to be working on fine-tuning the novel until March time. Then, it’s off to the publishers!

 

It started at zero and ended in sixty-four feet.

Well, more precisely, an eight-by-eight room equipped with bleach-white walls, so blinding, it seemed you had to blink twice as much to avoid the pain of it. Along with the sun-like walls, were two beds that could only be described as eerie.

The frames of the beds were like most beds—metal, dark, and cold, but the beds lacked headboards, merely using the wall to prop their pillows up against.

The pillows on the beds were solitary and flat. I knew I would struggle to sleep that night, and even if I did, I would most definitely have a sore neck and shoulder.

Everything about the room was…clinical, which I suppose was expected, considering it was essentially a mental hospital.

What a word—mental.

Before, it was just a word, sometimes part of slang, but it never carried quite the meaning it seemed to at the moment.

“Emery,” the Nameless Nurse began. “This is your roommate, Adriana.”

Pulling my attention from analyzing the dismal room, I turned to face the next nuisance of the day.

She stood at what I presumed to be about five foot six. Her bleach-blonde hair seemed to be dull and dry, with dark roots at the top.

She raised a frail hand in greeting, resting her other on her boney hip. Her pants were barely hanging onto her body and her shirt seemed to be drowning her.

I had never seen someone quite so tiny. She looked like someone from a Ralph Lauren commercial…fragile-looking, lanky, and quite truthfully, skeletal.

The Nameless Nurse smiled in satisfaction. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” she said, leaving the room.

Adriana eyed me, arching a thin brown. “So, whatchya in for?”

I hesitated, feeling a heat rise up my neck to my cheeks, until I was certain they were stained pink. “Um…well, you know, the usual. How about you?”

“Drugs,” she said without skipping a beat. “And anorexia. But you didn’t answer my question.”

I looked down, looking at my shoes and the dingy-white soles; seemingly the only oddly colored object in the room. “Cutting. I’m in for cutting.”

“Hardcore,” she said, plopping down on the springy mattress. “You better learn to be pretty open about it, because they’re gonna make you talk about it until you’re blue in the face.”

I nodded quietly.

“You’re in a mental hospital for teens. Don’t be proud. You haven’t got a reason to be.”

 

So there it is! As of right now, the novel is called “Castle Hill.” The name may change (it’s already changed one before!), but hopefully, this one will stick. We shall see.

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