S is Scrapping and Saving

S is for Scrapping and Saving...

Remember how I posted the opening words to my YA the other day? Yeah, I'm scrapping it. I may go back and use some of the descriptions, which is why whenever I make a major change to a draft I save and date the copy. I have 81 drafts of FLAWED.

81.

How about you? Do you save multiple drafts? How many do you have?

Anyway, here's the newest version. (I'm posting the entire first chapter because it's only 450 words.) Let me know what you think. Any errors? Does something bother you? Hooked? Not hooked? Why?

FLAWED

Chapter One


Death knocked me off my feet in one second flat.
Lightning ripped across the sky in a web of electric blue.
And falling.
I was falling.
Down.
Everything passed by in blurry streaks. Jagged rocks ripped my uniform. Ivy slapped at my cheeks like whips. I flailed out my arms to grab hold of something, anything, but ended up with a fistful of damp leaves and twigs. Along with my screams, Chace Blackwell’s voice rang in my ears. “Your life is over, Elara. You hear? You’re dead.”
I thought Chace had meant he wanted to kill off my social existence, not me.
I’d thought wrong.
He was the one who had pushed me into the old well.
My back smashed into an icy pool. One of the unlucky ones, I wasn’t knocked unconscious. I had to fight through the pain. Water filled my mouth, my nose, blurred my vision. My lungs tightened. I sunk deeper into the murky pit until I was completely submerged. I couldn’t see a thing, no air bubbles, nothing. Just blackness.
Ten seconds.
I ripped my jacket off. It strangled all movement. I could still feel where Chace's fingers had gripped my throat. What did I do to him? Simply exist?
Thirty seconds.
An overwhelming panic gripped me.  I tried to orient myself, but I couldn’t tell which way was up. My heavy combat boots weighed me down. I struggled to get them off, ripping my nails in the process. How long could I survive without air?
Sixty seconds.
I kicked my legs frantically, twisted my body, but nothing helped. I couldn’t get my bearings. Gasping, I inhaled more water, which made my lungs burn. Finally, a shaft of light broke through the surface. A glimmer of hope.
But it was too late.
My muscles didn’t want to listen to my mind. I couldn’t even raise a hand, move a finger. My body shuddered with an electrifying spasm. And then everything went still. My heartbeat slowed down, a dull thump resounding in my ears.
With no energy to speak of, no fight left in me, I closed my eyes, sinking deeper, farther away from the light. Colors undulated in my mind. Waves of purple, magenta, and turquoise shimmered like wings– an electric vortex.
Two minutes was all it took.
Awareness washed over me with crystal clarity.
This wasn’t some kind of nightmare I’d wake up from. This was as real as it got.
I was dying.





 

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