lookie here, look what i found!

So, like I said, Dark Lily has always been brewing at the back of my mind probably ever since I started medical school, and I'm now a fourth year meddie O.o

And after trawling through random documents in my laptop I have found the first ever draft I made of it! In fact, it's a halfway written prologue (looks proud of self) :D

When I first wrote the prologue, I only had a rough sense of who the main characters were, and for that reason it's a hastily written prologue. That doesn't mean I didn't spend heaps of time on writing it - if I remember correctly, I spent a whole night writing it instead of poring over my lecture notes (looks sheepish) - it just means that I got a major brainwave for a story plot, got excited and proceeded to put it on paper ASAP eventhough I hadn't actually fleshed out the stars of the story per se.

So in a sense, it's good that I only wrote the prologue halfway before I got busy with medical school because it gave me time to really start thinking through the characters. This in turn made me realize that the prologue and the sequence of events that I had currently plotted in my head wasn't going to bring out the tensions between the characters and their inner conflicts as well. So I scrapped the whole prologue - but thank goodness I didn't delete it in a fit of frustration like I did with another short story because now I'm trying to recapture the plot for said short story in order to rework it BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER IT ANYMORE! GAH!! - and went back to the drawing board.

So yes, presenting the initially planned prologue for Dark Lily before its rehaul. I guess the reason why I still keep it in my archives is because its writing style is different from that in high school i.e. the time when I was churning out one story a year. It also probably resembles how I currently write now; I'm not too sure on that since I haven't actually managed to make enough headway into the first chapter of Once Upon A Time to draw massive comparisons and conclusions.

So on that note, feedback is most welcome! :)

Note: The country of Valivya in this excerpt has now been renamed to Ventyn.

Prologue
“Never in all my life have I been treated thus!”


“Sir, I understand your concerns, but – yes, yes, don’t put down the phone, Sloath, keep dialing like your life depends on it because it does –sir, you have to understand that these things happen – “


The heavy and polished oak-panelled doors burst open, groaning under its weight and revealing a visibly shaking gentleman, flanked by a flustered, younger man clad entirely in black on his immediate right. Behind the pair, was a flurry of activity, undertaken by more men in black suits.


“No, Brent,” the gentleman snapped irritably, “These things are not supposed to happen because your duty is to make sure it doesn’t happen!”


Brent’s lips parted slightly, wanting to spit out yet another argument in his defense but then thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut.


The gentleman stopped and ran his hand once through his silver hair. It was an innate habit of his that he had never gotten over ever since he was a child. Then, he started to scuttle across the vast mansion, his chic black shoes clicking across the marbled floor as if he were a trained tap dancer. His companions almost fell over in their haste to keep up.


Brent tried once again.


“Mr President, sir, I know we made a mistake – “


“A potentially fatal mistake don’t you think?”


“But sir, we really thought that there was a bomb near the stage where you were standing, what with all the spitting and spluttering and all that gas and so we – “


“Decided to abandon me to the mercy of that lunatic who was trying to assassinate me?”


The president of Valivya turned sharply on his heel, causing those behind him to stop abruptly and glared at Brent. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips still quivering with fear from the aftermath of the attempted assassination.


Brent swallowed hard, cast his eyes downwards to the ground and wished that that it would open up and swallow him.


“Um, Mr. Brent, sir?”


Both Brent and the president turned to look at the man called Sloath.


“Yes?”


“Um well Mr Brent sir,” Sloath began, starting to feel uneasy and fiddling with the earphone dangling precariously from his right ear, “Mr Preston – um – that is the Director of the National Intelligence Unit – is actually already here.”


“In here?”


“Uh – yes, sir,” he continued, eyes totally focused on his immediate superior and refusing to spare the disheveled president a glance for fear of wilting under his increasingly intense gaze, “He’s already waiting in the president’s office. House security knew to let him in because I sent word ahead when we were leaving the campaign.”


“At least someone around here fully embodies his allegiance to me,” remarked the president dryly, his gaze shifting from Sloath to Brent, “He knows when he’s needed and comes right away.”


Brent managed a wry smile.


The president firmly turned his back on Brent and started towards the spiraling stairs, leaving those behind him to cast furtive glances at one another, wondering whether they should continue following him.


“You fools can stay behind,” came the authoritative voice of the president, who didn’t even bother to turn around, “After all, I don’t exactly expect myself to be the target of yet another assassination from here to my office.”


There was a short silence.


“But you, Brent, you can come along. I have more to say to you.”


Brent bit his lip, deciding he liked the pain this caused better than that of another cold lashing from his boss. Then, he launched himself at the stairs with all the haste of a whirlwind.

~ Finito~
 
I shall continue digging through my archives now, I have a feeling I may start hitting rock bottom soon. Rock bottom being my really old stories, those written in high school. If I find any gems, look out for them next Sunday! :)