Introduction- As of this point in the writing process, I have gotten all my plot events down on pape and I know the general direction that I want to go with the story. I had this idea one night while I was brainstorming, and I think it could be developed into quite a cool story with a little help. I hope that this story creates a mood of suspense, and I hope that by the end, you want to know more about what happens.
Parker was walking home when he felt himself fall forward onto the pavement. At first he thought he had just tripped over air like a klutz, but then he felt the throbbing pain in his foot. There was no way air could’ve done that. He looked behind him and say an old, beat up book on the ground. The book had a gold binding, but that wasn’t what stood out. What stood out was his name, Parker Allen, in bold, black letters on the front cover. He wanted to walk away, but he felt an irresistible urge pulling him towards his new find. He bent down and picked it up, completely unaware that he was disrupting traffic. He faintly heard honks around him, and the wind from cars passing by flew next to him, ruffling his hair in the breeze, but he didn’t care. He opened the book, blew off the dust, and began to read.
“August 13, 2000 was the most important day in history,” the book said.
“That’s my birthday,” Parker thought. He wondered what else could’ve happened that day. He continued reading.
“This was the day Parker Allen was born. Allen was very influential in the lives of others, and died a very brave death. This is the story of his life.”
“Died a brave death? Is this book from the future or something?,” Parker muttered to himself. He wanted to stop reading right then and there, but it was almost like the words were speaking to him. He continued the book, and suddenly he was reading about his birth, his first day of school, all his birthdays and parties, his first day of high school, his first dance, and all these monumental moments.
In an instant, he came across a story that intrigued him.
“Allen tripped and fell on the sidewalk on February 22, and found a book that changed his life forever.”
Parker looked at the book, shocked, when he realized that the pressure on his left hand was a lot more than on his right. He noticed there was only about 10 pages left in the book, which was the equivalent to about one night. He recalled that the beginning of the book said he was going to die a brave death. What was he going to do?
Parker decided that if he was going to die tonight, he wanted to know how to possibly prevent it. He stared intently at the book, figuring out that he would eventually turn into an alley. Simple as that. He just had to keep going straight, and not turn into an alley…ever. He started sprinting home, and he didn’t stop until he was nearly there and had to take a breath. He saw a car darting straight at him, and instinctively dove into the nearest alleyway. He kneeled on the ground, wheezing and coughing.
He realized his mistake only when he saw a hooded figure in the shadows. The figure was wearing all black, or at least that’s what it looked like right now. He saw a one-shot pistol in the man’s left hand.
Parker remembered what the book said about his death, and there definitely wasn’t a person involved. Maybe this wasn’t it. Maybe the book was wrong. He saw the man pull out a one-shot pistol and started running away, praying the book was, in fact, wrong.
He looked back and saw the man sprinting after him. He kept running, refusing to look back again. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn’t hear the man cocking the gun or trying to take any kind of shot. Maybe that’s because it was a one-shot. His pursuer couldn’t miss, or everything would be over. Parker grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and dialed 911.
“Help—-man chasing me—–has a gun—–87th and Y Street,” he gasped, barely able to get sound out because he’d been running so much.
Suddenly he heard the sound of metal clanking against itself- the unmistakable cock of a gun. He ran faster, faster, faster, and faster, until he heard the footsteps behind him fade. He took a chance and slowed down, and looked behind him. He saw the hooded man, and was ready to turn and run again, when the man started talking in a robotic monotone. He was unmistakably smiling behind the hood.
“Congratulations, Parker. You’ve defeated the book.” Then he walked away.