SIGN YOUR FATE ~ A Story by Sora.

Subject: SIGN YOUR FATE ~ A Story by Sora. Sat May 21, 2011 5:57 pm

NOTE: This story is totally mine, no one can steal it. It is copyrighted to me, Nicole-Alexandra, and any unlawful use or copy of it will get you in serious trouble, mate. Tell me what you think. ^^

Chapter 1: The Contract

A woman, 27 years of age, wandered the streets of Paris, France with a magnifying glass in her hands. One eyes, her left eye was closed tight, as she inspected the ground for particles that seemed out of place. Why? Simply because she took her job way too seriously.

"Vhat are you still doing out here Colette? Don't you know it is late?"

"Oh, is it? I had not noticed. Je suis tres desole, monsieur. I did not mean to overstay my limit of work-.." Colette started apologizing incessantly before the other man cut her off. He was not having that at the present moment.

"Colette, may I ask you why you are out here inspecting the ground with a magnifying glass.... at night?"

"Well I can explain that-"

"Can you really? Because truthfully, I do find it funny, but also a bit strange, and somewhat suspicious, but mostly hysterical." Colette stared at him with a look as if she was never going to be able to get a word in edgewise. He sure did like to talk. Then, with her gentle voice and slight French accent that hinted at her words, she spoke slowly.

"Are you done?" The man nodded. Then, she continued. "Alright, well, the reason I am out here so late is.." She sighed. "Truthfully, I have no idea. But, I am an inspector, a detective, non? Then should I not be out here doing my job?"

"I think you take your job way too seriously, Colette. That's what I think. I think, you need to go home and rest and find yourself a nice movie on television to watch. Cuddle up with your cat or whatever abominable pet you do own and just rest."

"But, Pierre, I love my job, you can't keep me from doing something I love." Her eyes expressed a look of worry and pain, but also that of hopefulness. This would be her final attempt, her final stand at letting her continue the strange act of inspecting the night streets. He sighed and a beat passed between them before he once more responded.

"It's true." He spoke as he put his hands in his pockets, a smile growing on his face. "I cannot keep you from doing the things you love, dear, but, I can keep you from overworking your brain by giving you apt suggestions to rest. Those suggestions you should take. You never know, one day, you might actually be needed on a case, an important one and you might be too tired to even move. Zhat is not a good thing to feel, Colette, trust me. And so ma cherie, you should go home and rest." He started to walk away as his footfalls scraped against the gravel and the loose rocks on the pavement. For a man whom didn't usually make a big profit on his spy and inspector agency, he did dress like a big spender of sorts. It makes you wonder what he was trying to do with all those flashy clothes. Nonetheless, Colette sighed and tucked her magnifying glass in her trench coat as she walked back to her apartment. She reached into the pocket on her jeans and pulled out the key to the door she was standing in front of, and without another thought, she was home.

"Hey Biscuit." The white bichon frise responded by emitting a small but cute bark. After all the petite dog was only about a year old at most, still a puppy in a sense. The dog seemed so content, sitting upright in his small fluffy bed, wagging his tail ferociously, a rubber toy right beside his front right paw. Colette proceeded to the kitchen, on the way there, picking up from the floor a small bowl that read "Biscuit" in fun letters, then, setting it atop the counter and pouring in what would fit the bowl of dog food. Then, kindly, she set the bowl down and Biscuit immediately began eating from it as if he hadn't eaten in a week or so. She chuckled lightly at this. "My goodness Biscuit, you must be hungry tonight." Then, another beat before... "You know Pierre? He's so mean, he called you an abominable pet." The dog stopped for a moment with a brown liquid substance upon the fur near his mouth and cocked his head to the side, making a small whining sound. Then, the puppy seemed to bark more loudly than the first time, and his face slightly scrunched into that of anger. Colette nodded as her eyes grew wider. "Merci beaucoup! Someone understands. You're not abominable, you're adorable."

Just as Colette finished her sentence, the phone rang and she moved from the counter she was resting her elbow upon to grab the phone on the other counter, in the charger.

"Hallo?" Her voice rang quite pleasantly.

Meanwhile, in the Americas, or rather just North America... (Yes, I mean the United States.) there was a girl on the day time streets of New York (Long Island) to be more exact, talking to the air? Now, I know what you're thinking: How does that make sense? To the normal eye, she would appear as though she were talking to herself. To the crazy eye, she would appear as though she were mentally deranged and talking to air, making plans with it and the such. And the especially crazy eye, well, let's just not go there. Truth is, she wasn't talking to air or nothingness, but, rather a person.

"Hey Alana. You told me to meet you here, so, what's the big news?" A young girl, the age of 14 spoke, as her medium length brown hair blew with the slight wind that just came in. It wasn't cold, it was rather warm, and that's what made this day so peaceful.

"Okay okay, fine, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to keep this secret and not tell anyone, okay?" The girl whom spoke was around the age of 12, a bit younger than her friend. She appeared to have blonde hair and green eyes that shone like the sun with naivety, but, in a good way. But, there was something strange about this girl. Nonetheless, her friend complied with her request and nodded for reassurance. "Okay, well, you know that kid that's in your class at school? That.. Tyler guy..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I sorta have a crush on him." At that statement, the brunette seemed to drop her jaw and then proceed to laugh hysterically in her face. The other people would look at her as if something was wired wrong in her cranium, but, they would pass her by and do nothing about it.

"Alana, you're too funny, you know that?"

"What?! I think he's cute."

"Yeah, but, you'll never have a shot with him."

"Oh why not?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's because, you're way too young for him, he's not your type, and he can't see you. But, that's the least of your worries, I'd say." The brunette continued to laugh in a joyful manner while all Alana could do was pout. She was petulant compared to her friend, but then again, she was younger.

"Sage, you're so mean! I come here to tell you I like a boy, my first ever crush, and you have to go and make fun of me like that. Making fun of people isn't nice!" Sage quickly stopped laughing and replied to her comment while drying her eyes with her finger; they were watery from the amount of laughter she just experienced.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay? It's just that, you're invisible. Only a select few people can see you. Like me, I can see you, that's how we became friends, but, he, he can't see you. And so it's kind of ridiculous to have a crush on someone like that. Someone like me, that, you could never be with." Sage was being more realistic now, but, even the realism hurt Alana quite a bit.

"Well, why not?" She seemed to whine and pout more, trying to make Sage feel guilty for what she was saying.

"Put it to you this way. Let's say you do go for this guy, Tyler. And you try to touch him to get his attention, that won't work because he won't feel a thing. He won't know you're there. Okay, so approach number two, let's say you want to communicate with him. If he is one of the skeptic and "deaf" types, he won't hear you either. But, there is a good chance he will. And since he can't see you, you'll be scaring him witless, he'll probably think that someone's out to get him, he's being haunted or that ghosts are real or something like that. And then the next thing you know, you'll never hear from him again... and all because 'the voice' kept bugging him." Sage spoke this with a matter-of-fact type attitude about her. Alana sniffled as if she were about to cry, when she was just upset about the words she knew were true.

"Oh! You're right! Again! Man, I hate when you do that. You're so mean, but, at the same time you're right. Why can't I just meet an imaginary boy like me and have a crush on him and then we'll get married and everything?" She seemed hopeful for a second. Sage smiled at her naive hopefulness, going with it, deciding she had done enough to her poor friend's feelings.

"Well, if I could help you there, I would. I wish you luck Alana. However, if you do find this 'imaginary boy just like you' and you do end up marrying him, I'd better be invited to the wedding." She tapped Alana's nose whom didn't seem to like that gesture of affection either. She wrinkled her nose in frustration of her friend always treating her like a kid.

"SAGE. Why do you always treat me like I'm a kid? I'm 12 you know! I'm practically a growned-up!"

"Because that's what you are, you're a kid. And until you turn 18, that's what you will be, a kid." Sage and Alana began to walk down the streets of the block when Sage's father called from their home to come in and have dinner. Immediately, Sage and Alana turned back around to enter Sage's house. Strangely, her father was tolerant of this imaginary friend that Sage had, and he had realized that she really did exist even if he couldn't see her. And so he always set the plates every night for three places.

We, as humans, are bound to a source that connects us to this Earth, to its nature, and to the people that walk upon it as well. We are bound to our fates as the stars write them in the night sky. We are bound to where we stand by the fibers and threads that are woven together in all of us and often weakened, repeated and strengthened, but, never broken. These fibers and threads that bind us together as one or many separate entities is much like a contract. We all have to sign our names to our fates at the bottom, but, when the contract expires, you'll never know.~

Posts : 1232 Type : none Rank : Genin Elements : Lightning

Your best work so far sis

Subject: Re: SIGN YOUR FATE ~ A Story by Sora. Thu Jul 14, 2011 10:14 pm

Chapter 2: (See attached.)

NOTE: Yes, the title is actually, (See attached.)

We, as humans, are bound to a source that connects us to this Earth, to its nature, and to the people that walk upon it as well. We are bound to our fates as the stars write them in the night sky. We are bound to where we stand by the fibers and threads that are woven together in all of us and often weakened, repeated and strengthened, but, never broken. These fibers and threads that bind us together as one or many separate entities is much like a contract. We all have to sign our names to our fates at the bottom, but, when the contract expires, you'll never know.

But, see, there is an extra form. An extra precaution, an extra decision you must make. For, it is not just the contract itself that you must sign with to begin your life's adventure and end, but, also a mention of what other difficulties you are signing off upon as well. It is like, the spiritual characters of our own bodies are able to form pacts with the spirits in nature without us even being conscious of it, even when we have no negotiable abilities ourselves, perhaps as babies or as the elderly. But whether we have no conscious of it or we do, it happens without our control.

A group of guys sneered and joked and walked away laughing and snickering in cruelty as one boy, dressed in mostly black, around the age of 19, got up from where he was laying on the ground. His nose was bleeding and some of his body parts were sore. From what free hand he had at the moment, he used it to dust himself off as best he could. He stood with some difficulty as his innocent, bright green eyes that were as pure as the grasses themselves scanned the area frightfully for any more danger. When the boy was sure there was no more danger coming his way, he slowly began to limp himself out of the parking lot this event occurred in and started on his journey home.

"Man, I don't get those guys. They're always picking on me and it's not if they have a REAL reason for it." He sighed and continued limp-walking at a slightly faster tempo, almost at his apartment. "So what? I'm a little different. The world was made to be different, but, I guess they don't see it." He turned the corner and was now on the street that his apartment was on, he just had to look for the number. But, nonetheless, he continued to talk to himself softly. "This just isn't fair, it isn't right. But, I suppose I can't complain, everyone has their own baggage, I have mine." Another sigh was let out before he turned and made his way through a gate and up a couple of stairs to the apartment building itself. He was home. With a slight smile on his face, he opened the door with a key he reached for in his pocket and made his way inside the entrance. His apartment was on the third floor, the letter B, so it was relatively close to the entrance to the whole building. As he began to make his ascension upward towards his room, a neighboring tenant spotted him in the hallway on his way. Her kind eyes took a look of fear as she laid eyes upon the young boy. She rushed right to him to assist.

"Oh goodness! Eli! What happened to you?!"

"Nothing, Mrs. Thompson, I'm fine."

"Don't tell me it's nothing Eli. Hun, come inside. I'll help you patch up and make you some tea." Mrs. Thompson said with such a note of kindness in her voice that he couldn't help but to accept. I mean, to be completely honest, it's not like he had much of a choice anyways. Reluctantly, Eli made his way inside Mrs. Thompson's apartment and there they sat as she cleaned his injuries and helped to patch them up in all the right places. After patching him up, Eli was handed an icepack and then a hot cup of herbal tea. First he blew on it, and then slowly, he took a sip, Mrs. Thompson sitting down in the midst of this process. (She too had a cup for herself.)

"Come now Eli, tell me, what happened exactly?"

"I'd rather not talk about it, ma'am."

"Eli, you're like a son to me. You can talk about anything with me, you know that, now please, what happened?"

"Like a son to you. Well you're young enough to be my older sister if I had one. Nothing really happened, just a bunch of dumb broads beat me up again." Eli calmly took another sip of his tea and then set it down only to have found a very upset Mrs. Thompson. As their eyes met, he knew that he would have to comfort her as she comforted him.

"AGAIN?!" She raised her voice adequately, obviously disturbed by this statement. "Why would they do that to you? You're such a sweet boy. Did they even explain why this time? Did they think you had some sort of drug on you...? Alcohol? Money?"

"Calm down, calm down. It wasn't any of those reasons. They don't talk to me, they don't explain things, Mrs. Thompson, their brains are only programmed to fight, apparently. But, you know the reason they did what they did." Another sip of tea.

"Oh I see. Well, you don't deserve this kind of thing done to you. Next time they do such a thing, you come tell me immediately, don't try to fake it, and we'll find these boys and we'll sue em. You just have to describe them to me and the detective, if you can do that, then everything will be okay. I promise you." She smiled sweetly. Eli couldn't help but smile and nod as an answer back, he didn't want to hurt her feelings. So softly, his voice took presence in the air.

"Alright, Mrs. Thompson." There was a pause until Mrs. Thompson broke the silence between them by asking a question.

"So, Eli, are you gonna stay here a little longer or are you going to go home soon? You're perfectly welcome to stay."

"No thanks, Mrs. Thompson. Thank you for everything, your kindness doesn't go unappreciated, I really do appreciate everything you do for me. Really. But, I think I'll go home for now, see you tomorrow?" Eli spoke as he got up with a sweet smile and headed out the door to the apartment door next door. He was home.

Meanwhile...

"Ah, the day is still young. It's really just begun. What to do now?" A young girl sighed as she sat down on the dimming porch of the west building to the college she attended. The sun slightly shone on her carrot colored hair in half light and half darkness. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the different frequencies of light as well. One in the light, one in the dark. It was like, she existed truly in the darkness but, she knew how to weave and stitch the sunlight into the mask she wears over her face around most of the people she meets. Once more the girl sighed and put her books in the messenger bag that was hanging over her shoulder and next to her right leg and stood up slowly. Classes had just let out and she had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no obligation to fulfill. She had some free time during her lunch period and not much homework, so she figured she'd get it done, and she did. But, wandering around campus satisfied no purpose of hers, it just occupied her for the time being. Aimless walking did seem to be quite relaxing for this young girl, and it seemed her head would get lost in daydreams and pulled away from reality, that is, until her name was called. As soon as the sound of her name took its chime in her ear, she quickly stopped in her tracks, turned around and came back into character accordingly. She did not want anyone to see her like this, at her most vulnerable and true state.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, hey Christina. Man, you must be losing it. Either that or you've had too many coffees this week. So what's up?" This girl was named Devin. She was someone whom Christina had met in her physical education class and talked to since there was boredom in the air in the girls' gym class. They had become okay friends, Christina wouldn't really consider her anyone important, but, she was someone who she could hang out with.

"Haha yeah, I have to lay off that expresso. So, what are you still doing here? I would have thought you'd be back home by now." Christina spoke rather maturely. She needed to be composed or someone might find out...

"Nah, my classes let out a while ago but I just had a meeting for this club I want to join and they let us out a few minutes ago. So, for right now I'm waiting for the bus to take me home since I don't have my car, it's in the shop and my mom is working tirelessly tonight."

"Oh okay, and what about your dad?"

"He's ... well, he's not around." Devin seemed to touch her arm and rub it gently, up and down, awkwardly. That sent a signal to Christina that that was a bit of a touchy subject for her, and so she would take note of it. In both a good way and a malicious way. She was clever like that.

"Oh okay. Well, my classes just let out and I was just on my way home, actually. I would stay, but, I'm starving so, I'm going to go. I hope you get home safely, Dev." Christina smiled and waved goodbye as she headed off again, walking in the direction that her house was located. Devin complied and nodded as she wished her a goodbye as well and stayed there, waiting for the bus to come pick her up. Christina was clever and conniving in her own little ways. She wore the face of an angel and acted in secret like a devil. She was the most honest and upfront person you'd ever meet, and yet, a compulsive liar. A trustworthy friend that you can tell secrets too, but who might take advantage of those secrets with the secrets she possesses of her own.

When Christina made it home, she picked up the phone and ordered a pizza. Her mother, who was just in the other room, thought she heard the door and called out to her secretive daughter.

"Christina, is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm in the kitchen." With that statement made, Christina's mother made her way from the living room into the kitchen to finally see her and speak with her face to face. Christina's mother wasn't that old, she was about 38-39 years old and could move like a 25 year old. Her mother, once reaching the doorway to the kitchen smiled as she gazed upon her daughter, oh she had been so proud of her.

"Alright, how was school today? Are the kids there, nice?"

"Yes, Mom. They're nice and it was okay, it was school. You don't have to treat me like a little kid ya know?" Christina said as she went to open the fridge and find something to drink.

"I know, I know. You don't like me treating you like a little kid, I get it. And, I'm sorry honey, really. It's just that as your mother, I have to worry about my daughter. So young and you're growing up so fast, going to college. Soon you'll be in the real world and I don't want you to end up...well, end up like I did."

"Take it easy, Drama Queen. Are you up for an Oscar, Mom? Because I think you'd certainly win for the part of "Most Dramatic Mom"." Christina laughed as she made the joke, then took a sip of the Snapple she grabbed from the fridge. "And besides." She continued as she swallowed the sip she took. "I'm 16 years old. I can handle myself for the most part, when I really need you, Mom, I'll come to you. I have said that before and I mean it, I promise." That made her mother smile and there was nothing else to be said for a few moments, that is, until Christina was going up to her room, she quickly shouted to her mother, who went back into the living room....

"Oh and I ordered a pizza by the way. I am really hungry, didn't really eat today. If you want a slice, you can go ahead and grab one when it gets here. Just tell me when it does." With that, Christina continued climbing the stairs and was soon inside the security of her room, her sanctuary where nothing could bother her. Within minutes she was on her laptop that her mother had bought her work, mostly, but, also for her free time. She checked Facebook quickly and then put on some songs on Youtube that had been stuck in her head recently. Devin had texted her to help her out with something major tomorrow; Being, sly, Christina answered back with a 'yes'. As the pizza came and her mother called her for dinner, she smirked and turned off the music, coming down the stairs as if she were trying to win a race. Oh, tomorrow would be fun...

Meanwhile again....

"But, monsieur, I cannot possibly-" Colette spoke somewhat distressed as the male voice on the other phone, speaking calmly, rang in her ears.

"Colette, what can I say? Je suis desole, truly. But, I must do this. You're being sent to North America, New York, most specifically, to investigate something for me. After you arrive in New York and settle in there, I will give you more of the details. However, I do not have the full story available to you right now."

"How soon do you want me on the plane?"

"Tomorrow. This assignment cannot afford to be waited on or stalled any. It is paramount in the ranks of our investigative society. And more importantly, our organization. And you have done a clean-up job lately. You've been one of the best detectives we've ever had. What's more is you love your job, I trust and thought you'd be the best person to send on this case. Please do it justice and solve professionally, Colette. As you have done with so many others."

"Oh merci, merci beaucoup. Trust me, I will not let you down, I will get on that plane tomorrow and do my job as professionally as I can when I arrive in New York. Is there anything else?" Colette seemed happy as her lips curved upwards into a smile. Biscuit, who was sitting peacefully in his bed, wagged his tail excitedly and gave a small bark to show his appreciation that his master was happy. Biscuit was a smart puppy and recognized emotion well, especially what Colette felt over all.

"No, there is nothing else. Enjoy your time in New York, Colette. I'm counting on you."

"D'accord, sir. I have my orders. I shall not let you down. I will not fail you." And with that a beeping sound was heard as she hung up her phone. She sighed contently as she fell onto the couch as if her body were a lifeless vessel. Relief seemed to wash over her and give her a new sense of the word altogether. Her heart was pounding softly and she knew things were going to be looking up for her for a while. But, then a thought hit her, she was leaving tomorrow!

"Oh no! I must pack my bags, the plane is leaving for tomorrow to New York. I have to hurry! Biscuit, boy, come help me pack." She laughed and Biscuit barked, following her into her room and bringing her clothing in his mouth to pack in the suitcase for the flight.

There is always something shady or hidden within things that happen that you never really see or observe. Humans just don't have the capacity in their brain to notice and much more, store in the littler details that just seem unimportant. How ignorant humans really are and naive, as well. In a contract, there is fine print, and sometimes hidden meanings that you need to find in between the lines. Well, that often does happen with life. Little secrets that everyone possesses and hides from the public, never wanting them to be exhumed into the light. Secrets carry a great gravity and magnitude to them. It can be anything as light as finding out that someone has a crush on someone else to the heavy cheating husband or shopaholic wife that just has a talent to make money disappear into thin air, as if that's where it came from.

Thus, a secret is the heaviest thing a person can bear upon them and yet they show no indication of struggle at all. That's because, physically, the body is not hindered by it and to the eye, it is invisible, thus, it does not seem so problematic. To the naked eye, the fine print, the secret is not there. But, to the mind it is an eerie and heavy thing to bear, to keep locked up inside and incarcerated in the holding cells of your thoughts and subconscious. So, in addition to the fine print on the contracts of life you never see, there is always another page attached that the contractor does not want you to read. That is the heaviest secret that weighs upon the hearts of the people that possess them, it can affect that person deeply and it can affect others in a way as well. Often times we are too quick to sign away our lives to a dream or a purpose without reading the fine print or seeing the attached page to the upfront contract. But, to this contract, we do not have a choice, it is an obligation. A pen is put in our hands the day we arrive on this planet. We sign the contract and it does expire until the day we leave. But, the things that make life so interesting are not the contracts that we sign and the personalities we form or how we interact, it is the secrets, that extra page that everyone has attached to their contract that is bound to show to the surface at some point; That, is what makes the affairs of the 'Business of Life' so intriguing.

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