George

Amare and the World in the Way Chapter 1 The Begging of the End I have one reason for living and one reason only. Prince Charming? You’re a fairy tale. You’re not living in a fairy tale, you are a fairy tale, and you need a reality check yesterday. George Clooney? I’m only thirteen, which is an acceptable age in some societies, but not this one and I’m not moving. Elvis Presley? I’m all for a hunk-a-hunk of burning love, but I mean a different species of man entirely. Standing at a whopping thirteen inches tall. Weighing in at seven pounds of pure awesomeness under a tiara. He is the one, the only, love of my life because all boys are revolting. Regina, the Pomeranian princess is the reason I’m alive. I wish I was lying, but I’m not. And I’m not sorry. Somewhere in an empty, dusty, musky, disgusting bathroom with black-and-white walls and absolutely no toilet paper, I lay in a half-filled bathtub beside my pint-sized Pomeranian princess trying to figure out why the world was the way it was and how I could make it better. “The world has to be so much better than it is. It has to be.” I say, my voice burning with a wildfire that began the moment I was brought into this godforsaken world. “A world filled with walls and unjust laws. A world with more wrongs than rights. A world with more hate than love.” I punctuate my statement with a battle cry, one that mourns all the lives that have ever been lost to avoidable pandemics, pointless wars, inhumane police brutalities, wrongful persecutions, and astonishing ignorance. “I’m going to be the one who changes the world, I just have to pass my Sames Test first,” I declare as newly lit flames burn in my eyes, and a surrealistic explosion of light blasts out of my heart in colors of the earth, sun, moon, and stars. The reflection of his blood-red fur with bright gold spots reminds me of how beautiful the world is so I go on. His furry, iridescent, pink tiara falls off of his head, so I put it back on, and I have the realization that there is nothing better than doing nothing with your best friend and watching the Sun come up. His beady little eyes, tiny sphere-shaped earrings, and recently manicured paws remind me of how truly lucky I am to be alive, which is why I have to pass my Sames Test no matter the cost. That, and Regina, but he goes without saying. The reflection of his blood-red fur with bright gold spots reminds me of how beautiful the world is so I go on. The funny way his furry, iridescent, pink tiara pops on and off his head shows me how fun it is to sit in an empty, dusty, musty, disgusting bathroom with your very best friend and do nothing but watch the Sun come up. And the extraordinary life bursting from his beady little eyes, tiny sphere-shaped earrings, and recently manicured paws reminds me of how truly lucky I am to be alive, which is why I have to pass my Sames Test no matter the cost. The world I live in is split into two types of people: the Sames and the Differents. The Sames Test is a measure of whether one is the Same, or Different, and if you guessed that congratulations, you’re a freaking genius. During the test, a Same student recites the Sames of Allegiance. If they make it through the entire pledge without showing signs of being Different, which include but are not limited to springing a leak, breaking wind, falling through the cracks, or bursting into flames, they pass the test and are allowed to move on to the next educational institution, have a career in politics, medicine, education, military, or another essential field—not intended to be creative. They can raise a dog, cat, or 131 children like my own adopted guardians. They can live their lives and have a chance at living a full and fulfilling life; but if they fail their only option death. Most likely. The truth is that no one knows exactly what happens to those who take the Sames Test and prove to be Different because they vanish before anyone has a chance to ask what happened. Before we move any further you have to know that as your “unreliable” narrator, I am here to be painfully honest with you and tell you nothing but the truth because life is short. There will be times when I’ll be overly dramatic, emotionally unstable, and totally and irrevocably unreliable, but the light at the end of my very colorful tunnel is that I’ll be upfront about my “unreliableness” every step of the way. I’m not going to hide behind my vampires, emotions, and werewolves pretending like everything is fine and dandy because as nice as it is to imagine, in the real world, none of that is natural. I’m not going to conjure up spells, wizards, and hats that hand me my place in the world because that’s not my story as much as I wish it were. And I’m not going to put down any other unreliable narrators, already published stories, or anything else because I’m not here to put down anybody, but myself. I'm alright because I know that I’m not, but I’m working on it. How, might you ask wherever you are? I have no idea. That’s why I’m here. Hopefully, we can figure it out together. I choke on my brevity, realizing the world of color projecting from my heart has long diminished. “It’s time to get ready for the Sames Test, Regina.” I whisper, smiling a half-hearted smile while jumping out of the bathtub, drying myself with a black-and-white towel, replacing the empty toilet paper roll, and following Regina out of the bathroom and into the halls of the Whatshername Willow. * Save yourself the heartburn. I hate myself enough for both of us. I roll my eyes, bite my tongue, and hold Regina by his right itty-bitty paw as the two of us fly down the Whatshername Willow staircase, which is incredulously long: 33 flights. Eight out of seven days a week I think about jumping from the top: I think that’s why Regina makes me hold his itty-bitty paw as we walk to the bottom of the stairs. The Whatshername Willow is the largest orphanage in all of Woodholly, the smallest state in the States that claim to be United. Our country used to be called the United States, but something happened that made it the States that claim to be United. Owning any games, films, or music—art of any kind, is strictly prohibited and an automatic prison sentence. Partaking in any different-colored clothing, cosmetics, jewelry, prosthetics–or enhancements of any type, is also illegal. There are no textbooks, manuals, self-help books, How to’s for Dummies, or any other books allowed either because the government’s sole mission is to make sure we’re as poor, weak, and ignorant as we can be to continue to take advantage of us because we’re incapable of thinking. Of course, that has never stopped me from owning my own super awesome collection of games, books, CD’s, movies, and jewelry, because I’d rather die than live without my necklace, The Outsiders, every Disney movie ever released, the Beatles (the bugs and the band), and every great raunchy PG-13 comedy that is the foundation of my overwhelming personality. I'm owning it, you don’t have to ask. If you’re looking for happy-go-lucky, you’re going to have to settle for depressing, depressing, and depressing. which can be happy-go-lucky if you want to be depressed about it. I could be thinking about how upset I am about taking my Sames Test in a couple of hours, but I am too busy being upset about all the things I have to do before I take my Sames Test. Like, walking down thirteen floors. Acknowledging–not saying hi–but acknowledging 129 fellow orphans. Walking past countless broken mirrors, frames, and mats. Walking past random worn-out shoes, hand-me-down clothes, and squeaky objects. Walking past limbless mannequins, shattered fixtures, and shards of glass. Walking-passing-walking-passing-walking. I'm going out of my mind on the subject of my walking to the point where I think I'm tricking my brain into loving it. "I love how much I hate you.” I tell my legs, stopping to show them how much I hate them, even if it doesn't make any sense. “I’m okay, Regina.” I added, watching him eying me suspiciously. “Well, I’m not, but I’m used to it.” I finish, walking into the Makeup room. The Whatstheirnames, the identifier for the 131 orphans that lived in the Whatshername Willow, welcome Regina and me with parades of paralysis and symphonies of silence, which is exactly how I want it. The room is stuffed with countless counters separated by numerous aisles of mirrors, with all the Same products necessary to hide one’s “Different”–or imperfections. I start towards a Whatstheirname with boogers in their fingers, crayons in their teeth, and eyes that looked like a Lemur’s, but stop immediately because a) they scared m and b) I was tired of walking. Instead, I plop my bum in front of the closest mirror and immediately begin preparing for my Sames Test. Ah, the Makeup Room. We come to this place…for change. We come here to look at ourselves in the mirror, recognize our flaws, and hate everything we see because we need that, all of us, that indescribable feeling we get when we transform into someone we’ve never been before; not just ourselves, but somehow reborn. Together. The mirror and me. There’s a wide split down the middle of the mirror that looks back at me. Pain, I can feel as I run my fingers along its broken glass allows me to feel, finally. Blood, I can taste as the mirror aims to kill me, mirror, I’m waiting. Somehow, heartbreak feels good in a place like this. Our broken mirrors bring out the worst part of us, and we feel imperfect and insignificant. Because here, we are. The Make-Up Room, we make ourselves suicidal. Detest me yet? Don’t waste your breath. I'm not worth it unless that changes, even I'm not sold on my character. I hate everything I see when I look in the mirror. My large doe-sized ambrosia eyes that see through the world’s bull-crap. Ridiculously large ears and abnormally sized lips that hear and call the world out on its bullcrap. And a mind-heart combination that is so stupid it's smart because it allows me to think and feel my way out of the majority of the world’s bullcrap. Speaking of the majority of the world’s bull crap, the hair on my arms stands on ends, my ears twitch uncontrollably, and my eyes roll back into my brain as the guardians of the Whatsherame Willow saunter into the Make-Up room looking at us with eyes of hate. Mrs. Whatshername has to be the most different-Same I have ever seen and Mr. Whatshername has to be the most same. She is big and he is itty-bitty small. He is teeny-weeny, and she is big & tall. She embodies–she doesn't wear–she embodies a skin-tight black-and-white leotard that is far too small, a polished silver knife pinned to the lapel of her pink scarf, a monochrome wig adorned with pink ribbons that are always coming off, and hundreds of tattoos that supposedly cover up her life’s battle scars. Mr. Whatshername is the Same as everyone else in the sense that he wears a black and white suit with short socks and a bald cap over a head that we can assume is bald, the only different thing about him is the leather-laced leash around his neck that his wife never lets him take off. That’s right, this book is as appropriate as the whip she uses on his dickies. What, in a world where belts are forbidden, pants have to be held up by something? Yes? "WHATSTHEIRNAMES,” Mrs. Whatshername obnoxiously exclaims, breaking me out of my very necessary world-splaining. “BEGINYOURSAMEPREPARATIONS!” "I will be the Same and never Different. I will be the Same and never Different. I will be the Same and never Different because that’s the only way I’m going to find my place in the world I live in.” I begrudgingly say along with 129 of my sisters, brothers, and others, wiping my rose-tinted glasses, drying my face of all tears, and staring at my broken reflection which grows blurrier every second I’m still here. I continue to say it over and over again while I wrap the area from my heart to my shoulder in linen to keep the light from bursting out of my heart. Check. I sigh, tying my hair into a long, fiery, bronze ponytail. Every Same must wear their hair in a braid. Check. Every Same must wear black-and-white robe-like clothing. I laugh, sticking my tongue out at the bleak and bloody, boring outfit. Check. Every Same must weigh a certain amount of weight. I struggle with this one a lot more than I wish I did but hide the little stomach I have in the depths of my hand-me-down pants. And mate… I hesitate, seeing a part of my necklace sticking out of my robe. Emblazoned in gold lust that never seems to rust is the necklace I wear with my name spelled out with love: Amare. I don't know why, but it is the only thing that has ever made me feel as if I truly belong. I know the necklace came from my mother or father—possibly both—and I hope they still loved each other, but there is no way for me to know. I don't know why they left me, where they are, or why I feel like I will be seeing them soon. All I know is that my life was missing someone, or someone's, and I kind of hope they are missing me too– "They are,” Out of nowhere, Mr. and Mrs. Whatshername whisper in my ear in a strange tone only I could hear. It scares me to the point of falling out of my chair. “Amare, it doesn’t matter if you’re the Same or Different, it’s what you choose to do with it that makes the difference.” As the rest of my sisters, brothers, and others carry on with the “Same saying”, I look at my guardians trying to make sense of what had just been said: It doesn’t matter if you’re the Same or Different, it’s what you choose to do with it that makes the difference. For thirteen years the Whatshernames had only ever taught me to be the Same and never Different, and now they wanted to negate everything they had ever said with one statement. I refuse to accept this.” I told them, ready to go off on the two of them right then and there for always having us squeeze into the Same hand-me-down black and white uniforms that made it impossible for me to breathe, braid our hair in ponytails so tight our scalps bled, starve us until we developed anorexia, make us change everything about ourselves until we fell into depression, leave us feeling nothing but a type of self-loathing that was so red, so fiery, so overwhelming, that we go through life every day wishing we were never born to begin with, only to then tell us that it didn’t matter if we were the Same or Different because it was what we chose to do with it that made the difference. I take a deep breath in, let it out, and see that my guardians have already taken enough punishment from the world, so I turn my attention to my brothers, sisters, and others who really need me right now. Here they were, all hiding their freckles, scars, pimples, skin tones, birthmarks, hairstyles, body braces, mouth guards, jawlines, foreheads, noses, eyebrows, chins, stomachs, shoulders, necks, feet, legs, and everything else that made them “different”. They were doing the Same thing they do every single day, but for some reason today they were crying real tears as they did it. Their faces as soaked as a rainforest. Their eyes as dark red and sunken as the savannah. And their hearts were broken beyond repair as they “fixed” every part of themself they had been told was broken. "Maybe everyone is supposed to be sad,” I tell Regina, biting my lip, letting go of a few more tears, smiling the fakest smile I can manage. You see, even in the world of the Sames, everyone is different in one way or another, but one can ensure they're the Same by working to ensure their different’s not different enough to be considered Different. If that explanation makes even an inkling of sense, congratulations, you’re still a freaking genius. You’ve won a sign that reads, “I’m capable of common sense for the time being”. which can be found on the last page of this book. Now, if that statement didn’t make any sense, I don’t apologize but I do suggest you keep reading because it will eventually, but if you’re tired of my story–and I wouldn’t blame you, I’m tired of me too, I suggest you grab another book about sunshine and rainbows because this one is about to get dark.I know that I can pass my Sames Test. All I have to do is put my mind and heart into it: the problem is that I’m not sure being the Same is what I want to be because some days I just want to be a little bit different, a world where I could be both might be a world actually worth living in. I will be the Same and never Different…” I regrettably say, along with every other Whatstheirname in the room as we collectively walk towards the door, hating the world and ourselves, by association. “I will be the Same and never Different. I will be the Same and never Different because that’s just how the world works…and it’s the only way to find our place in it.” I finish, holding my heart, letting go of a few tears, hiding my necklace underneath my robe, and exiting the Make-Up room to head to Same School.

Assignment 1: The Act of Story Statement A self-loathing teenager finds herself in the World in the Wall, an effervescent institution within the Universe intended for the supernatural in head and heart. There, she must work against the Magistre, the school’s mysterious faculty, to find her place in one of the World’s four creations: the Airs, the Waters, the Fires, or the Earths, if she wants to remain in the World—for at-least a second term. Assignment 2: The Antagonist Plots the Point The Magistre, the school's faculty, introduce the students to deadly extraterrestrial friends and foes, wicked games designed to kill students for sport, and a dangerous new world, Amare and the rest of the First-year students will have to overcome if they want to find their place in the World. *The antagonist shifts from external to internal as the students realize they are the only ones that have the power to stop them from finding their places in the World. Amare must overcome her own depression by learning to love every part of herself no matter how different. Amicus must control his insecurities brought up by his autism by coming to terms with his true brilliance. Viva must manage her own insecurities regarding her family taken by her by immigration by learning that we're all still connected no matter the distance. Caerule must learn to cope with the death of his family by learning to let go of the past and forgive himself completely. *Amare and friends face their inner demons head-on in climactic, surrealistic, explosive action sequences (The Earth is Viva, Fire 'N' Amicus, Caerule, The Seven Sins of Amare...) Assignment 3: Create a Breakout Title Amare and the World in the Way is the name of the first installment in my series because it introduces my protagonist, Amare, and my main setting/conflict, the World/in the Way. This also works thematically in the sense that the overarching goal of every character is to overcome "the world in their way": depression, autism, immigration, or forgiveness, in order to find their place in the World and return for a second term. Amare and the World in the Wall (alternative choice) Amare (alternative to the alternative choice) Assignment 4: Deciding Your Genre and Choosing Comparables A Wrinkle in Time A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Assignment 5: The Hook Line After the Pignus, the Same police force, chases Amare out of the city and nearly kills her for blowing up her school, she finds herself on a spaceship to the World, an effervescent educational institution within the Universe, where she’s introduced to extraterrestrial friends and foes, unfinished haunted houses that finish on their own, wicked games designed to kill students for sport, and an entire world in the way she’ll have to overcome if she wants to remain in the World—for at-least a second term. Assignment 6: Two More Levels of Conflict Protagonist's Inner struggle: Amare’s depression makes her feel everything more than the average thirteen-year-old. She mourns all the lives that had ever been lost to the world’s avoidable pandemics, pointless wars, inhumane police brutalities, wrongful persecutions, and astonishing ignorance. She refuses to stand for her society’s moral, social, and “traditional” injustices. And she despises her world that is hypocritical, immoral, and wrong. All she wants to do is hurt the world in the same way it hurt her, by ending her life altogether; but she can’t because of Regina. Amare is willing to live and die for Regina, but the only way she can live is if she proves to be the Same, a member of her society that believes in conformity, the only problem is that everything about her tells her that she’s different, a member of society that believes in individualism. Excerpt 1: I have one reason for living, and one reason only. Prince Charming? You’re a fairy tale. You’re not living in a fairy tale, you are a fairy tale, and you need a reality check yesterday. George Clooney? I’m only thirteen, which is an acceptable age in some societies, but not this one and I’m not moving. Elvis Presley? I’m all for a hunk-a-hunk of burning love, but I mean a different species of man entirely. Standing at a whopping thirteen inches tall. Weighing in at seven pounds of pure awesomeness—under a tiara. He is the one, the only love of my life because all boys are revolting. Regina, the Pomeranian princess is the reason I’m alive. I wish I was lying, but I’m not. And I’m not sorry. Excerpt 2: Fiery hair that burns bright red when upset. Check. Doe-sized ambrosia eyes that change with the times. Check. A heart with the power to save the entire Universe. Mate. All of that would make me the Same and never Different, correct? Think again. Conflict: The entire first installment in Amare’s story is dedicated to her finding her place in the world. First, it's in the world of the Sames as a Same. Then, it’s in the World in the Wall, where she has to literally find her place as a First-year student if she wants to return in the Fall. Amare is so caught up in the self-loathing, self-deprecating nature of her character that she fails to understand that the only person keeping her from finding her place in the World is herself. It is only once she is able to love every part of herself that she hates that she is able to find her place in the World and overcome the World in “her '' way. Assignment 7: Setting Scene by Scene: 1. The Begging of the End *The Whatshername Willow, the largest orphanage in all of Woodholly, the smallest state in the States that claim to be United, a dystopian version of the United States, split between the Sames, a member of society that believes in conformity, and the Differents, a member of society that believes in individualism. *The Same School, the school system for those thirteen and younger run by the Sames of the Sames, forces Amare to realize it's not about being the Same or Different, but it is what she chooses to do with “it” that makes the difference. Fireworks *Lucifer’s Edge, the outskirts of town pushes Amare to the edge of her life, where she comes to terms with her depression, and the realization that she needs to change. The Spaceship to the Stars *The Spaceship takes Amare out of Woodholly, through the home of the deadly Stars, celestial beings composed of hydrogen, helium, and “celebrity”, and to the World, an educational institution within the Universe, another world hidden above the one we all know and love. The World in the Wall *In the World in the Wall, Amare meets hundreds of other First-years, the Magistre–the school’s dangerous faculty, and the notion that she must find her place in one of the World’s four creations if she wants to return for a second term. The Earth is Viva *The world of the Earths Viva Vivet, a sweet but sour first-generation World student, finds her place in the world of the Earths, the Earths’ dormitory filled with a rainforest, the wildest life in the form of different-colored plants, flowers, and animals, and a life-sized-living rendition of the Earth. Earth, Wind, and Amicus *The world of the Waters Amicus Peculiar, a golden-haired einstein on the spectrum of brilliance, finds his place in the world of the Waters, the Waters’ dormitory filled with different-colored animals in water tanks, insulators, and aquariums. The Action in the Americas *The Americas In the classroom dedicated to the Americas, Amare and friends are under attack by a living, breathing interpretation of New York City: the Statue of Liberty, Empire State building, and two twin towers that teach them the importance of living every moment to its fullest. Note: Every classroom in the World physically changes with the vision of the faculty in control of it. The Unfinished * In the World’s unfinished Haunted House, the old and decrepit home to the Writer’s sick and twisted nightmares, Amare gives the Writer the confidence he needs to love himself unconditionally, finish his story, and ultimately find his place in the World. The World’s Sport *At the World’s Sport All-Star game, the World’s “Super bowl”, Amare is introduced to the World’s Sport, all of the Universe’s different extraterrestrials, and a story that puts her journey to self-love back on course. Caerule *The France of Fruition Caerule, a tall-dark-and-mysterious sinking dreamboat of a boy finds his place in the France of Fruition after a war with a water monster manifests out of his own familial trauma. Alien *In the world of the Fires Amare finds her place in the world of the Fires, the Fires’ dormitory engulfed in flames, after finding the love she needs to love herself unconditionally. The World in the Way *Outside the World in the Wall, Amare, Viva, Amicus, Caerule and the rest of the first-year students celebrate the passing of their first year and eventual return for their second.