| My name is Kara Marshall. I was once called Emmeline, but that was the past. When my mother died two years ago, I had to live alone with my drunk father. I don't really want to talk about him. Let me just say that he isn't exactly the nicest guy around.
I live in a small town called Minnowfield, situated between the coast and the grasslands. It is very beautiful, I must say. However, living here as long as I have helps you forget about its true beauty. The people here live simple lives, and we all know each other's names. That does not mean we are all friends. Most people here treat me with no respect, so I give them none in return; it is, after all, what they deserved. They don't understand me, so why should I try to put up with them? The only real friend I have in this town is Mr. Wasabi, and he is already in his sixties. That is not his real name, obviously. Everyone calls him that because he owns "Mr. Wasabi's Sushi Hut" in the middle of town. Mr. Wasabi is a master of a weapon called the jo. It is basically a staff that is around four-feet in length. Mr. Wasabi retired from using the jo after achieving the status of world master. He retired only to work in the local sushi bar. He still keeps a training dojo behind his sushi bar to relive his past. Mr. Wasabi has passed on his skills with the staff to me. He even gave me one! I don't know why he took the time and patience to teach me, but I appreciated it. He's always been very nice. Now I sit in school. I hate school. It is not that I don't want to learn; I read history books of the past in my spare time, and have a collection sitting on a shelf in my room. These books have been preserved from the First Age, so I know they are correct. Mr. Barclay, disagrees, however. He teaches us false education, and only I seem to know it. "Kara! Are you paying any attention?" he screamed from across the room, staring at me with his two piercing blue eyes. I had been sketching for a few minutes, and was caught off guard. "Yes," I quickly responded. "Alrighty then: When did Columbus set out for his voyage to America in the First Age?" "Fourteen ninety-two," I responded, knowing I would be wrong in the teacher's eyes. The whole class broke out in laughter, including Barclay himself! Anyway, I didn't care. They could laugh all they want as long as I knew I was correct. "How do you dare be so wrong?" exclaimed Barclay. He slowly approached me and my paper, a discerning expression on his face. "What is this rubbish?" he said furiously holding up my sketch. I had been drawing pictures of trees, and mountains; a place I would like to be in, rather than this awful school. He examined it for a few seconds, then teared my sketch into four equal pieces, only to set it back down on my desk. "See me after class is dismissed," he scowled, "I trust I won't find you drawing this bloody nonesense next time!" I wish I could describe how much I hated Barclay and his false education. After class, Barclay told me to stay and clean up the classroom all day tomorrow. That is when I had had it! It was time to leave town. There was no use for going to school if I never learned anything new. I already have a great education on my own, all because of my spare time. I always had spare time, so I always read my mother's collection of books. It wasn't because I enjoyed it. My father didn't allow me much freedom when I got home, and I would be forced to stay in my room. My room full of books. Sometimes I practiced the art of the jo, but my room wasn't big enough to twirl around a staff in every direction. I had been dreaming for months to leave, and it was such an easy task. What stopped me? What held me back? I knew it wasn't school, and my father did not love me. I stood in front of the school entrance, and thought for a moment. I decided that I would have left long ago if it weren't for Mr. Wasabi. I must see him one last time before leaving. Without him, I would have no regrets of escaping. I left the school and travelled a bit north, following the town's dirt road. The sun was still up high, so it must have been mid-day. Soon, I came across the structure labeled, "Mr. Wasabi's Sushi Hut". The sign was white, with big bold letters in a light hue of brown. The structure itself was made of wood, most-likely imported upriver from Neota. I entered the building to be welcomed by the familiar smell of fresh fish and vegetables. The room wasn't too big, for most of the space was used by the dojo, which was connected to the sushi bar by a door on the far right of the room. I examined the bar, but Mr. Wasabi was not visible. "Sensei?" I said lightly, hoping for a response. "Kara? Is that you I hear?" he asked as soon as he suddenly appeared from the kitchen. He stood behind the counter and took a good look at me through his glasses. "Ah, it is you! What brings you to old Wasabi's place?" he said curiously with a smile. "I have made a decision, Sensei." I explained. "Please, Kara, just call me Mr. Wasabi!" I found addressing him as 'sensei' to be easier, but I listened. "I probably won't be seeing you anymore," I said, "I am leaving town today." |
| Chapter 1: Minnowfield Point of View: Kara's |
| Well, this is the second version of Chapter 1. The other one was not released, but it was finished! It was in the 3rd person, and started as a dream. It was very descriptive, unlike this one. This one's not as descriptive because it is taken in Kara's viewpoint. Anyway, enjoy! ^_^ Be sure to send comments to my guestbook! |