Stories, Writing

Cliff

I haven’t posted original content in a week. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time make a new character profile or anything. I had costumes to sew and Halloween swallowed me whole! But I do have a little excerpt from my Amara story. Here you go!

Amara crashed into the upstairs of her parents’ home, her home. Emerald green sparks flowed around her as she fell to the floor.

“Amara!” Her mother, Kiva, ran over to check on her.

“I’m okay,” Amara huffed out as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m okay,” she repeated as her mom helped her from the floor and her sister, Avery, joined. They sat her against a wall, sat on each side of her and waited.

It took Amara a minute to realize where she was. She hadn’t been as focused as she would have been normally. She looked around the room. It was a large rectangle with thick black mats on the floor. Weapons lined the wall in front of her and a door stood to her left on one of the short walls.

She was in one of her family’s training rooms. The second floor of their house held four of them, each with an identical setup. But the second floor was also hidden from anyone outside the family. To everyone else their home was a single level house.

Amara let out an exasperated sigh and stood as she shouted, “He threw me off a cliff!” She was glad her mom and sister hadn’t pushed her to talk until she wanted to. They were good at that.

“Who what?” Avery asked in confusion from her spot on the floor.

“The killer! He threw me off a cliff! A frickin’ cliff!” Amara repeated as she threw her hands in the air. “When I catch him, he’s gonna regret every little—“

“If you catch him.”

“Ugh. Avery, you’re not funny.” Amara sat back between them.

“Shut up. I’m hilarious,” Avery chuckled.

“Not right now.” Amara sighed.

“I know you’re frustrated, sweetie.” Kiva set a hand on Amara’s. “But you’ll get him.”

“You should probably give him a better name than ‘the killer’ though. He did just throw you off a cliff.”

“So he’s earned himself a nickname by nearly killing me?” Amara raised a brow at her sister.

“Welllllll…..” Avery stalled. “It is pretty impressive.”

“And creative,” her mom added.

“Yes, he’s impressive and creative. And, oh yeah, he’s a murderer!”

“You do have to call him something unless you want to keep calling him ‘the killer’,” Kiva said.

“What would you recommend I call him?”

“How about Cliff?” Avery laughed and Kiva joined.

“Ha ha laugh it up. I could have died!”

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