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First Page: Celeste – Young Adult

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“Oh, what’s the point?”
Fourteen-year-old Mayah Lewis threw the tube of lipstick at the mirror. It bounced off the glass, hit the wall and rolled under a stall. She didn’t care. She was the only one there, having sneaked out of boring Biology class when the teacher was writing their homework on the board. Mostly hating the way she looked, she didn’t like doing her makeup when anyone was around and she wanted to look good – or at least relatively okay – cuz Joey Marshall was in her next class and she had a huge crush on him. This way she had the girl’s bathroom to herself, for at least a few minutes.
She stared at her face – ugly freckles creating swirls of uneven patterns across her nose and cheeks that no amount of foundation cream seemed to cover, beady blue eyes, two zits on her chin big enough to ski down and long, wiry red hair that curled as if having a life of its own. Blue eyes were usually an asset, except hers were a dull pale blue – gross as anything.
“Give it up! No matter what I do, I can’t hide how ugly I am.” She dumped the rest of her make-up in her backpack.
“But you’re not ugly.”
What the… ?
She turned to watch beautiful, blonde Kitty Richards come strutting around the corner, her golden curls flying behind her.
Mayah was stunned.
She’d looked when she came in and hadn’t seen anyone, but she’d forgotten about the wheelchair accessible stall way at the back because no one ever went there. Or at least that was what she’d thought since no one was in a wheelchair in the whole school. Obviously, that was where Kitty was which was kinda weird. She was not handicapped in the least – or at least not physically. Now, personality-wise, maybe a bit, or at least she always came across stuck-up as ever.
I had no luck, whatsoever.
Bad enough for Mayah to agonize about her face, but to have a witness was horrifying. And especially Kitty – the most gorgeous girl in grade nine, if not the whole school. Stereotypically tall and thin, she had one of those perfect complexions. No way pimples would ever take up residence there – she was a masterpiece. And to think she was smiling, looking really friendly-like. Yeah, right. Kitty’d never spoken to her before because Kitty seemed to only associate with the ‘cool’ crowd, not paying any attention to the rest of us losers. Today must be just a pity call.
Embarrassed, wanting to die, Mayah ignored her and tore out of the room, down the hall to a door at the back of the auditorium. She pulled out her key, inserted it, then tugged it open and ran up the stairs to the projection room. This was her hideaway, for no one ever came here during the day and it was only used when there were school assemblies or plays.

First Page: Skye Chase – YA Superhero Fiction

First Page: Skye Chase – YA Superhero Fiction

Welcome to First Page Saturday. Individual authors anonymously send a first page read and critiqued by the Dear Author community of authors, readers and industry others. Anyone is welcome to comment. You may comment anonymously. You can submit your own First Page using this form.

Silence is one of my talents.

I slipped out of bed without making the slightest rustle of bedsheets. I felt the click of the door handle, but I knew how to open it without disturbing the peace. I’d done this so many times before, I didn’t even have to think about my actions as I flew–wait at the corner for the first guard to sweep his flashlight along the hallway, good, go–and went down, turn at the first left, left again, last door on the right.

The soft knocking was the only sound I made up to that point. The light from under the door became striped where a man’s feet stepped. Then the door creaked open slowly allowing a streak of light to spill into the corridor and make everything glow until I hurriedly went in and closed the door behind me.

“Good evening, Skye,” Dr. White greeted me with a nod and kind smile. “Your escape went smoothly, as always?”

He walked around his desk and sat in his office chair as he spoke, reaching over to his bookshelf to turn down his classical music so that it was just background noise.

“Yup,” I said, taking my usual spot across from him. “Happy Friday.”

“Happy Friday,” he acknowledged, “and happy birthday.”

“Oh, thanks.” I’d forgotten about that. Wow. I was seventeen today. I had spent five years in this hellhole. Vaguely, I wondered if I would be here long enough to someday forget what the outside was like. As much as I dreaded the possibility of it, I almost hoped I would.

“I have something for you.”

He reached for his drawer and I immediately looked right through the wooden desk out of curiosity.

“Money?” I said skeptically before he had fully retrieved the twenty-dollar bill. What was I supposed to do with twenty bucks in this place?

Almost as if reading my mind, Dr. White held it out to me and said, “You can save it to use if you ever escape. There’s a lot more to escaping than just escaping, you know.”

I accepted it without a word, thinking that escaping was hard enough by itself.

“So tomorrow’s another playground day.”

I nodded. Playground days happened twice a week. They weren’t very interesting on the days I didn’t try to escape. Basically, we just went outside for a couple of hours. Soak up some sun and breathe the sweet mountain air. There wasn’t actually a playground; that would draw too much attention. There was a tarmac area and a dirt area, fenced in by a simple fence on the inside and a tall electric fence around everything.

“Are you going to try to escape again?”

I sighed and lifted my elbow to show him a bad scrape. “I’m not at full health yet. So no.”

He nodded. “Maybe next week.”

Dr. White knew me well.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat as if about to diverge a well-kept secret.

“Always,” he responded factually.

“How come you never tell anyone when I tell you I plan to escape?”

It was something I had asked a few times before, but I always forgot the answer.

“Several reasons,” he replied, “the first of which being that I wouldn’t mind very much if you were to somehow leave this place. Second, I don’t know how you would manage to escape anyhow, so it would make no difference whether I said anything or not. Lastly, given your track record for attempted escapes, everybody already knows.”

“But they don’t know when exactly.”

“That’s true, but even you don’t know that, do you?”

I only shrugged.