A New Journey Begins Everyday: June 2014

A few days into my rewrite of a novel I started a few years ago and it's still as dark as a starless galaxy (yes, that doesn't make much sense). Expect werewolf blood spillage, wolf shape-changers, dark humour and multinational adventure in this werewolf hunting tale.

In a few months comes the time for reviews and quick advertising. But, before then, read the first few pages!

I lived an ordinary life in Lowestoft by the sea. I enjoyed living in a conventional house, with a living room, dining room and an upper floor with loft. I had many friends. All had their reasons for liking me, and I had my reasons for liking them. Yet, I always thought my family was different, but for all the right reasons, and none bad. My mother came from Japan and moved to England fifteen years ago. She was very intelligent and taught me many interesting things - including her home's culture and history. I found it interesting yet hard to remember.

My father was hard-working and I very rarely saw him. He was both mentally and physically strong - traits I did not inherit from him. Many people say I looked like the younger version of my father. I could never see it myself, as I was very skinny at the time and had virtually no muscle.

My mother and father met when my mother was twenty-one, married four years later, bought a house and then had me. I was just a normal half-Asian, half-European, skinny, black-haired male, with hobbies vast enough to match that of my mother's and a father that was never at home. So no need to worry? Wrong...

…My first experiences with a werewolf started when I was only ten years old, exactly ten years ago in fact. One night, my mother came home from work, at exactly six a.m. - a whole hour later than usual. I usually stayed awake to see her before we had dinner together. So I stayed up for her and did not eat until she came home - mostly because I couldn’t be bothered to prepare my own food, especially because of the fact I was only ten years old and had a very small number of responsibilities. Well, that’s how I saw it anyhow.

“I'm sorry I’m late,” I remember her saying when she arrived. She took off her shoes and then pulled up a chair next to the dining table. She sat down on the chair, and said, “Let's order pizza tonight, I’ve had a hell of a day.” She said this with surprisingly little care over her choice in words. She was usually so calm and rarely spoke any word of colloquialism, in such a tone as she did at least. She also usually preferred to cook as opposed to ordering our food. I thought nothing of this as I was so very hungry and could not care less as to what we were eating - as long as it tasted good of course.

A moment later, she sighed and inhaled deeply, exhaled a second later, then said, “Your dad's working late again.” She spoke in a soft, yet tired voice and with the same carelessness as before. I was never close to my father, yet it was nice to see him, no matter how rare the occasion was.

My mother walked towards the living room and picked up her mobile phone. Then, she began to dial the number for the pizza delivery shop.

“Two ten-inch Italian-based meat-feast pizzas please,” she said, very fast; which was also unlike her. It was clear enough to get the job done and so, I did not think anything of that either.

Most of the light from the sky outside was now drifting away into the darkness of the night. The light of the full-moon seeped through the closed curtains, onto the dining table. The light followed its way onto several pieces of cutlery on the table. The light reflected onto a knife and into a nearby mirror, which reflected the light into my mother's left eye. She oddly screamed in pain, reacting more intensely than you would have expected. Again, I thought nothing bad of this. On the contrary, I laughed instead. When she uncovered her eyes, I was sure I saw that her eyes flashed with a red tint, for a second at least. Afterwards, she left the room for reasons unknown to me.

Pretty soon, that light from outside was the only plausible light in the entire room. Abruptly, I jumped, as my mother came running into the room. She seemed to look stressed and was about to speak, but there was a knock at the door. She seemed to float off into the dark of the hallway in front of me.

I could see nothing in this darkness and wondered why she took as long as she did answering the door. Then two voices began to speak.

“Here's your pizza,” said the first, in a calm yet bored voice.

“Thank you!” shouted the other, yet in a voice that did not express gratitude, but agitation. The last voice was followed by a very loud bang, and it was blatantly obvious that my mother had slammed the door in the delivery person's face, right after paying them for the food. It was clear that the person was paid, as they left soon afterwards and did not return for payment.

“What did you do that for?” I questioned, as my mother's face appeared through the darkness. She said nothing and threw the boxes full of pizza onto the table. She stood still for a moment, and then suddenly began to sway on the spot. She became very pale and fainted onto the seat she had pulled from under the table earlier.

I thought she was just very tired, at first, as she soon came to. The pizza was still warm, as it gave off warmth from where it laid. I opened a box containing the food she had bought.

“I'm sorry Hiru,” she said. “I don't know what came over me.” The paleness of her face had now seemingly vanished. She opened the box containing her pizza and started eating it.

I remember looking into her eyes and seeing the blackness of her pupils; black, except a streak of light from the moonlight from outside reflecting in them. She stared back with a smile, which quickly turned into a frown. The frown stretched, as she opened her mouth slightly. Her teeth somehow appeared to be longer now as they were nearly touching her bottom lip. She started to close her mouth, as she licked the tomato purée from around her lips. She dug her teeth into her bottom lip, with a mysterious grin, seemingly not in pain, even though blood trickled down her lip.

“Are you okay?” I said. She said nothing, yet I couldn't stop but notice that she hadn't ceased looking at me since she smiled at me earlier.

Suddenly, a vein on her forehead started to pulsate through her skin, which in turn caused her to yelp in pain.

“Mum, are you okay?” I questioned once again. There was still no answer. She leapt to her feet, overturning both her chair and the dining table, with amazing force and frantic recklessness. I fell back against the floor in surprise and rolled backwards.

Getting to my feet, I said, “You’re really scaring me now.” She bared her teeth once more; they had seemingly grown even more and were now dripping with blood; her own blood, from her bottom lip, which hadn't stopped bleeding. The blood dribbled down her chin. Thick, red blood.

All of a sudden, she screamed out in pain and then she fell to the ground. I ran towards her, to comfort her, yet she pushed me away.

“No,” she said, almost shouting again.

“Mum?” I said in disbelief. “What's going on?” Yet again, there was no answer.

On the spur of the moment, her head-hair started to grow three times its original length. Then, even more hair sprung from all over her body. She rose up from where she was. Her body had now seemed to have doubled in size and weight - mostly muscle. Her clothes ripped completely off of her body due to the strain of this quick change. She stepped on her ripped bra and started to stare at me once more, yet stood stationary, as her body was still changing.

Pretty soon, her face was almost unrecognisable, as she was now almost completely covered head to toe in black, thick, fur, only visible by the moonlight through the curtains in the dining room.

“M…mum?” I questioned. I hoped it was not her. However, there was no denying it, as she had changed form right in front of my eyes. She stood stationary for a few seconds; still transfixed and grinning at me.

All of a sudden, she let out a long, piercing howl. I was paralysed by fear, for the moments passed by the ostensibly time melding howl. I stepped back slowly, waiting for a reaction to my presence by my denatured mother. She slowly growled and licked her lips. Then, she sprinted towards me. I could do nothing except jump out the way of her feral rage. She ran straight into the cooker and smashed her head against a cabinet above.

She began to bleed heavily from her forehead. She growled and at the same time, she threw a chair towards the windows of the dining room; smashing a window nearby. A huge gust of wind blew in from the cold air outside. As I was distracted by the cold air, she grabbed a knife from a block of wood near her. Next second, she leapt at me again. I staggered, and fell to the floor, backwards. She peered over me. In a flash of light and pain, I fell unconscious.

I awoke, only being able to see with one eye and a knife lying on my chest. I felt an intense pain from atop my left eye, down to the left of my nose, in a diagonal line. I raised my left hand and hesitantly touched the scarred area. To my horror, I realised I was missing my left eye. I quickly pulled my hand away, as the pain was too great for a child to easily bear.

So, recently I have been planning the general layout of my English lessons that I will teach online. Of course, one thing to preempt is just what exactly works online. What will be good for me AND my students? I won't say all the details until I'm actually teaching, but I will sat that I think I have devised a nice way for students to learn pronunciation, vocabulary, expressions and overall knowledge of English while developing also on their listening and general comprehension.

Simple techniques and methods can usually contain such materials such as videos, something to read and, thereafter, discuss and analyze. I think, as long as the student is constantly learning content as well as analyzing that content, a lesson can last quite a long time without the student or teacher getting bored. with the discussion aspect, the teacher may have the chance to learn something as well.

It's important to fit as much as possible into lessons, regardless of skill. The more the student learns (through the content given by the teacher), comprehends (through discussion, conversation and study), is able to use and remembers (through devotion and practice) the better.

As a teacher, I will strive to ensure all my future lessons fit all these criteria.... while I still have fun myself of course.

Thanks for reading,
Michael.

A New Journey Begins Everyday

Pages

Friday, 13 June 2014

Interesting - What are Skype, Line, Google Hangouts and PayPal?

Teaching - New Facebook Page

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

Book - Rewrite

Monday, 9 June 2014

面白いこと、ロンドンの博覧会

Sunday, 8 June 2014

Teaching - A Lesson Plan That Works

Interesting - New Website Now Live