This is a rough draft of the beginning of a Young Adult novel I'm currently working on. It's just a draft, and only the very first pages, but please give me feedback!
Avis woke himself with terrified shakes and the drenching sweat soaking through the sheets around him. There was a stinging cold in the air, and the winter did not seem to want to release it's grasp on this dreadful weather. He proceeded to revisit the dream that had so terribly frightened him. The only really distinction he could bring to mind was something about one of his father's disgusting creations breaking loose and rampaging through the house...
Avis rolled slowly from his damp bed and blankets, and removed his almost dripping sleepwear. He put on some thick underclothes and threw on one of the robes that his father insisted he constantly wear. He left his room, wishing the door wouldn't squeak so piercingly loud. The floors were so cold he could see a patch of ice where his dad had obviously spilled something or another last night but was as usual, too lazy to clean up after himself. He creeped through the already creepy house of his, hoping that Dad had not woken. "HEY AVIS GET OUT HERE!" Looks like he had.
He trotted slowly to the barn and slid the massive door open to reveal his father feeding his terrible creations.
"Did you get some breakfast yet, Avis?"
"No Dad, I just woke up,"
"You really should just move a little quicker, you know!"
With this he proceeded to hand him some feed from the bucket which he had been throwing to the thing with many heads.
"I am NOT eating this!"
"Pish posh, it's perfectly good for ya, it's all the hobs eat after all,"
You see, Avis' father was a magician of sorts, but he preferred to be called a creator, because of his creations. Though everyone knew he was the best at his art of dabbling in the creation of many new and useful creatures, many of these things also had dangerous risks to be taken into account of. He even had his own hoard of Hob-goblins, which he refers to as 'Hobs', to guard the barn and the dungeon which house his works. He had created everything from a fish with five tails, to a dragon the size of a push pin. Yes, that last one is true.
The towns people and his neighbors give him much friction on the matters, though. They may not know much about the things that he does, but they all know they are very dangerous, and shouldn't they have a right to understand what happens next door? Should they not have the right to know that if the lock on that cage breaks it could be the end of their already short lives? Yes, many people would say yes, but Garet Basch the best creator in all of the empire would in fact say no.
Avis woke himself with terrified shakes and the drenching sweat soaking through the sheets around him. There was a stinging cold in the air, and the winter did not seem to want to release it's grasp on this dreadful weather. He proceeded to revisit the dream that had so terribly frightened him. The only really distinction he could bring to mind was something about one of his father's disgusting creations breaking loose and rampaging through the house...
Avis rolled slowly from his damp bed and blankets, and removed his almost dripping sleepwear. He put on some thick underclothes and threw on one of the robes that his father insisted he constantly wear. He left his room, wishing the door wouldn't squeak so piercingly loud. The floors were so cold he could see a patch of ice where his dad had obviously spilled something or another last night but was as usual, too lazy to clean up after himself. He creeped through the already creepy house of his, hoping that Dad had not woken. "HEY AVIS GET OUT HERE!" Looks like he had.
He trotted slowly to the barn and slid the massive door open to reveal his father feeding his terrible creations.
"Did you get some breakfast yet, Avis?"
"No Dad, I just woke up,"
"You really should just move a little quicker, you know!"
With this he proceeded to hand him some feed from the bucket which he had been throwing to the thing with many heads.
"I am NOT eating this!"
"Pish posh, it's perfectly good for ya, it's all the hobs eat after all,"
You see, Avis' father was a magician of sorts, but he preferred to be called a creator, because of his creations. Though everyone knew he was the best at his art of dabbling in the creation of many new and useful creatures, many of these things also had dangerous risks to be taken into account of. He even had his own hoard of Hob-goblins, which he refers to as 'Hobs', to guard the barn and the dungeon which house his works. He had created everything from a fish with five tails, to a dragon the size of a push pin. Yes, that last one is true.
The towns people and his neighbors give him much friction on the matters, though. They may not know much about the things that he does, but they all know they are very dangerous, and shouldn't they have a right to understand what happens next door? Should they not have the right to know that if the lock on that cage breaks it could be the end of their already short lives? Yes, many people would say yes, but Garet Basch the best creator in all of the empire would in fact say no.
