AmericanPi
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The Storyteller
The revamped version of The Multiversity
Banner made by me
By: American--Pi
Rated: PG
The revamped version of The Multiversity
Banner made by me
By: American--Pi
Rated: PG
This original novel (if I may call it that) is my project for the July 2016 edition of Camp NaNoWriMo. My goal for this Camp NaNoWriMo is to finish this story, or write 50,000 words.
The Storyteller originally started out as a story called The Multiversity, which can be found here. I originally intended to finish The Multiversity (write 50,000 words) for the November 2015 NaNoWriMo, and if that wasn't possible, finish the story during the April 2016 or July 2016 Camp NaNoWriMo. Unfortunately, as I continued working on The Multiversity I realized that I hated the project because I had no idea what to do with it. There were too many plotllines, and the whole project totally lacked direction and unity.
That's why I decided to revamp and reboot the whole project as The Storyteller, which is what you see here. This revised version hopefully fixes all the problems I had with The Multiversity: I've decided to focus on only one character, so that the plot is clearer.
Now that I have more of an idea of where I'm going, I hope I'll be able to hit 50,000 words by the end of the month. Without further ado, please enjoy The Storyteller.
The Storyteller originally started out as a story called The Multiversity, which can be found here. I originally intended to finish The Multiversity (write 50,000 words) for the November 2015 NaNoWriMo, and if that wasn't possible, finish the story during the April 2016 or July 2016 Camp NaNoWriMo. Unfortunately, as I continued working on The Multiversity I realized that I hated the project because I had no idea what to do with it. There were too many plotllines, and the whole project totally lacked direction and unity.
That's why I decided to revamp and reboot the whole project as The Storyteller, which is what you see here. This revised version hopefully fixes all the problems I had with The Multiversity: I've decided to focus on only one character, so that the plot is clearer.
Now that I have more of an idea of where I'm going, I hope I'll be able to hit 50,000 words by the end of the month. Without further ado, please enjoy The Storyteller.
Table of Contents
- Chapter One: The Backstory (part of this post)
- Chapter Two: The Dream
- Chapter Three: The Visions
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Shattersoul
Chapter One: The Backstory
My name is Autumn Astor. I was a girl who had everything in my life planned out. I was going to go to Harvard, get into law school, serve a few terms as U.S. Senator, and then run for President. I seriously hoped that I could become President of the United States one day - ever since I was young, it was my dream - but even if I couldn't, I wanted to make a difference in the world. Or maybe even the whole Multiverse.
Eventually I did make a difference in the Multiverse, but not in the way that I planned.
The Multiverse is the collection of every universe known to exist. About fifty years ago, portals opened up between the many universes. It was then that we found out that there were actually many universes, all connected to each other in the Multiverse.
I come from the Alpha Universe, which, compared with other universes, is rather boring because as far as we know my planet, Alpha Earth, is the only one that can support life. But even Alpha Earth has plenty of interesting things about it, and I am quite grateful for its relative peacefulness. Even though our planet always has some kind of war somewhere, at least the Earth isn't in danger of exploding any time soon.
The Multiverse's newest universe is the Multiversity Universe, home to a unique school and community called the Multiversity. I completed my college education there for two reasons - one, because I wanted to learn more about the different universes so that I could become a better leader. After all, if I wanted to become President of the United States, I would have to be familiar with all of the universes, not just my own.
My second reason for attending the Multiversity was a lot less based on my own free will. Essentially, the reason was that if I didn't attend, the Multiverse would explode.
Well, it wasn't as bad as that. But I had a responsibility, and I wasn't going to take any risks.
I was a normal kid with big dreams. Like I said, I had everything in my life planned out. Then I discovered that it was my destiny and duty to help maintain the stability of not only my world but also the entire Multiverse.
Whoa.
So, of course, everything changed.
---
When I was in fourth grade, my class was learning about the Presidents of the United States. Even when I was young, I found history to be fascinating. By the time my class started learning about the presidents, I already knew the names of all the United States presidents from George Washington to George W. Bush. I eagerly read books on the recent and not-so-recent history of the Multiverse, and my favorite place in the whole Alpha Universe was the local library, where I would spend every afternoon after school reading, learning, and doing homework.
I was a pretty smart kid. At the age of eight I had skipped a grade and was in Mrs. Edwards's fourth-grade class in Springfield Elementary School. In her class, I learned more about all the Presidents and what they contributed to the nation. It was exciting, but then I noticed something.
"Mrs. Edwards," I asked my teacher one day during recess, "why haven't there been any female Presidents yet? Or Presidents who weren't white, for that matter?"
Mrs. Edwards sighed. "Good question, Autumn. Women and people of color have had it rough since the beginning of our country," she explained. "Unlike men, in the beginning, they had next to no basic rights. It took hundreds of years for our society to get where it is today, but even after women and people of color acquired rights and protection under the law, the fact is that today's society is still plagued with inequalities. You'll learn more about society and how it has changed as you get older, Autumn."
"But I want to learn now," I said enthusiastically. "I want to learn about everything! And when I grow up, I want to become the first female and the first African-American President of the United States." I was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. "I want to learn about a lot of things so I can become a great leader. Do you think I'll be a good leader, Mrs. Edwards?"
"Maybe," Mrs. Edwards said encouragingly. "You know, Student Council elections are coming up, and-"
"I can run for school President?" I asked excitedly.
Mrs. Edwards laughed good-naturedly. "You can run for President when you're in sixth grade," she told me. "Fourth-graders can only run for Class Representative." When my face fell, she added, "But being on Student Council is a lot of fun! Since you're so interested in politics, you should really try it." She paused. "You do know what the word 'politics' means, do you?"
"Duh," I chirped. "According to the dictionary, it is the science of political government."
"You really are smart for your age," Mrs. Edwards praised. "Anyways, another reason why you should try running for Class Representative is that having student council experience as a Class Representative will help you get elected as President when you're in sixth grade."
"Kind of like how being in the Senate helps someone become President of the United States?" I asked.
"Yes," Mrs. Edwards said, raising her eyebrows. "How did you know that?"
"I read about it," I answered, "from a book from the library. I was interested in how government works, so I found some books with that information in it. I found out a lot about local, state, and federal government. Our system is pretty complicated, but I guess it makes sense. We need a division of powers, or one party will control too much."
Mrs. Edwards took off her red-rimmed glasses and polished its lenses with her shirt. "Autumn Astor," she said, her brown eyes gleaming, "you should know that you are the smartest girl I've ever taught. I think you will succeed in whatever you choose to do." At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of recess. "Well, recess is over. Let's go out to the playground and pick up the class."
"When and where do I sign up to be a class representative?" I asked, following Mrs. Edwards outside.
"More information will be sent home in the Friday Folder," Mrs. Edwards answered.
"Great!" I exclaimed. "I'm definitely going to run."
That discussion I had with Mrs. Edwards remains one of the most important conversations I've ever had in my life, because it was the one that kickstarted my dream of becoming the first female, non-white President of the United States.
That week, I impatiently waited for the Friday Folder. I excitedly told everyone who would listen my newfound goals: my short-term goal of becoming Class Representative and my long-term goal of becoming President. I spent hours in the library every afternoon, reading about history, politicians, and government. I began campaigning for the position of Class Representative even before the information on running was handed out.
"Of course I'm going to vote for you, Autumn!" my friend Lisa exclaimed. Me and three of my friends were having lunch together in the cafeteria, and I was politely asking my friends to vote for me.
"And when you become President of the United States," Lisa continued, "will you pass a law that says kids only have to go to school on Mondays?"
"But we need school, Lisa," I said. "School teaches us so many things! Don't you love learning?"
Lisa frowned. "I like art class and nothing else," she said. "If you have to keep school at five days a week, can you get rid of math and replace it with art?"
I laughed good-naturedly. "We can't just get rid of math. I don't like it either, but without math, there would be pandemonium. Besides, when I'm President, I won't have complete control over what kids learn in school. Because if I did, I would be a dictator, and that's not good."
"What's a dictator?" Maggie, another one of my friends, asked. "And what is pandemonium? Honestly, Autumn, you need to stop using such big words, or my brain will explode!" She pantomimed an explosion around her head and pretended to faint dramatically, causing all of us to burst out laughing. Maggie absolutely loves drama and theater, and her drama always made us laugh.
Marge, a small girl who was usually the quietest of the bunch, laughed so hard that she dropped her orange onto the ground. It rolled towards an unsuspecting sixth-grader, who stepped on the orange and sent squashed orange bits flying everywhere as he was walking towards the table next to ours. This made me and my friends laugh so loudly that Mrs. Reyzajpaya, the mean custodian, yelled at us to be quiet. But her voice was so funny that we just laughed harder.
What eventually caused us to stop laughing was the fact that Mrs. Reyzajpaya ended up giving us Study Hall for three days. Study Hall took the place of Morning and Afternoon Recess, and everyone who had Study Hall had to sit and work on something quietly in the designated Study Hall room rather than go out to recess. Maggie apologized profusely for making us laugh so hard that we got into trouble, and Marge apologized profusely for dropping her orange. Me and Lisa forgave them both. I, for one, planned on using Study Hall to plan my campaign strategy. Even as a little kid, I was quite the strategist.
I never got to tell my friends what "pandemonium" and "dictator" meant, but eventually, by the time Election Day rolled around, I got every girl in my fourth-grade class to say that she was going to vote for me. As for Study Hall, it took away some possible campaigning time, but I made the most out of it and wrote out speeches and ideas. My friends benefitted from Study Hall too: Lisa created several beautiful sketches, Maggie wrote a script for her future TV show, and Marge caught up on homework. So it wasn't that bad.
During my Class Representative campaign, I also excitedly told my family my short-term and long-term goals. They were supportive of my campaign for Class Representative, but more doubtful of my dream of becoming United States President.
"Sis, you sure you want to lead this messed-up country? You might fall and get hurt by many things," James, the older of my two older brothers, said. He was the first family member I ran into after my decision to try to become the President of the United States. James was shooting hoops in our driveway, probably procrastinating on his high school homework.
"Bro, are you sure this country is messed up? And you are not funny," I retorted. I was hoping for a more positive response from the first family member I talked to, and I was quite annoyed by James's negativity and by his teasing. When I was in second grade, I fell down the stairs after tripping over my other brother Neil's skateboard, prompting my brothers to make "fall" jokes ever since. In fact, sometimes they even call me "Fall" as opposed to my actual name, "Autumn", because they think it's a really funny joke or something. I get it, but it gets quite annoying after a while.
"And even if this country is messed up," I continued, "that's another reason why I want to be President. If I were President, I'd fix all of this country's problems."
"Hah, good luck," James said bitterly as the basketball swished through the hoop. When he saw my face fall, his voice softened. "It's nice to have a dream, sis," he said, grabbing his basketball and facing me. He tucked the basketball under his arm. "You're a smart kid. It would be pretty cool if you became President one day. I'm just warning you that it'll be hard."
"Don't discourage her, bro," a new voice spoke. It was Neil, the younger of my two older brothers. He hopped off his skateboard and stood next to James, holding his skateboard under his arm. "She never discourages you from following your dream, so you should be nicer to her."
I smiled. Neil, who was thirteen years old at that time, was always warmer towards me than James, who was often snarky and cynical. He and James both loved basketball more than anything else, but otherwise they were complete opposites.
James sighed. "I suppose you're right, Neil," he said, "but Fall wants to be the President of the United States of America. I was just telling her the truth. She doesn't have much of a chance-"
"Hey!" I protested.
"But of course she can try," James finished.
"It's true that there haven't been any female or African-American Presidents yet," Neil said, "but I think Fall would make a good leader. She's motivated and smart." He smiled at me when he noticed me frowning. "Alright, Autumn would make a good leader. It's hard to become President, but if you put your mind to it, you can do it."
"Thanks, Neil," I said, smiling. I jabbed James gently with my elbow. "You can learn a lot from your brother, James. And both of you, please stop calling me 'Fall'. Anyways, I'm going to go inside to do my homework and work on my campaign. See you later, guys."
"See ya," Neil and James said.
I hurried into our small one-story home and headed straight to the room I shared with my five-year-old sister, Ayesha. Growing up, my family wasn't exactly rich, but we got by comfortably. My younger sister was prancing around the room in a pink princess costume, wearing a plastic silver crown on her head, and carrying a fork. When she saw me enter the room, she stopped short and pointed the fork at me.
"Halt, intruder!" she exclaimed. "You may not enter Baby Pegasus Island! I, Fairy Princess Sugar Apple, will use my magic wand to chase you away if you take one more step closer!"
"Sis, that's a fork. Put it back into the kitchen, will you?" I said, exasperated. I bit back a snarky comment about Ayesha's three-ponytail hairstyle. "And by the way, you're talking to the future President of the United States."
"You're no fun, Fall," Ayesha whined, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm bored! Can you play with me? You can be the Licorice Witch!"
"I need to do my homework, Ayesha," I said impatiently. I never expected my sister to understand the significance of everything I was doing - she was talking to the future President, for goodness sake - but I had hoped she wouldn't be in a bratty mood when I got home. I sighed. This was going to take a while.
"Homework, shmomework," Ayesha said dismissively. "Can't you play with me first? I'm really, really, really, really bored!"
"Play with Neil or James," I said, walking over to my desk and putting my red backpack onto the floor. "I'm really busy. After I finish my homework I've gotta work on my campaign for Class Representative. You can stay here, but be quiet, okay?"
"I can't be quiet!" Ayesha whined. "I'm bored! And I don't want to play with my brothers! Because I haven't played with you for ages!"
"I played with you last weekend," I muttered, even though that was a lie. I was really at my wits' end, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. "How about this, sis? I can set up the computer so that you can watch 'Princess Sugar Apple Saves Baby Pegasus Island 6'. Then can you leave me alone?"
Ayesha's face wrinkled. "Number six is boring," she whined. "Can I watch number eight?"
"Fine," I sighed, walking towards the door. "Come on. I'll get you set up." Privately I wondered how Ayesha even differentiated the different Princess Sugar Apple movies, because to me they were all the same overly sweet nonsense. Grumbling to myself, I set Ayesha up in front of the slow, ancient home computer and hurried back into my room.
"Finally," I sighed. I don't know what I did to deserve such a bratty little sister, and I was glad that she was out of the way. I began to do my homework, and I felt a lot better. Homework always has a calming effect on me.
"Autumn!"
I don't know how much time had passed, and it barely seemed like much time at all. But Ayesha was standing next to me with pleading eyes and the same fork in her hand.
"The movie's over," she said. "Now can you play with me?"
"But barely any time has passed," I complained. "Besides, I'm almost done with my homework. I just need a little more time. Are you sure the movie's done?"
"Yes," Ayesha said petulantly. "Come on! Let's play!"
"Ayesha, I need to prepare for my campaign," I groaned. "Can't you watch another Princess Sugar Apple movie?"
"No!" Ayesha exclaimed, stamping her foot. "I wanna play with you!"
"I'm busy," I said through gritted teeth.
"I wanna play," Ayesha whined.
At this point I was just so tired of dealing with my sister that I lost it.
"GO AWAY!" I yelled, loudly and angrily. "Go play with your brothers, or watch more movies, I DON'T CARE! Just leave me alone!!"
I was expecting Ayesha to run away in fear or burst into tears. She did nothing of that sort.
"Autumn," she said curtly, "If you really want to be President of the United States, you need to be less angry. Princess Sugarplum is the perfect ruler of the Ice Cream Kingdom. And she never yells or loses her temper."
I stared in surprise at Ayesha. It took a while for me to respond, because I was too busy being taken aback by her mature response to my rage.
"Hey, you're right," I conceded. I didn't even make a snappy retort. "I'm sorry, sis."
"It's alright, Autumn," Ayesha said cheerfully as she gave me a hug.
I looked at the time. "Tell you what, Ayesha, it's about time I took a break from my work anyways. How about this? I'll play with you for about thirty minutes, and after that, can you promise to leave me in peace to work on my campaign?"
Ayesha smiled. "Deal!"
The rest of the day passed peacefully. Ayesha kept her side of the bargain, I finished my homework smoothly, I started brainstorming campaign ideas, and I did quite a bit of research on government. During dinner, I excitedly told my mom, dad, grandpa, and grandma my short- and long-term goals. My maternal grandparents were encouraging and thrilled that I had chosen to pursue such a grand dream. My parents were encouraging as well, but like James they warned me that it would be difficult.
"Presidents have to attend expensive, prestigious law schools," my father said, "and let's face it, we're not exactly rich."
"Neither was Abraham Lincoln's family, and look where he ended up," I said matter-of-factly.
"He was assassinated," James pointed out.
"James!" my mother exclaimed in shock. "You know what Autumn means. Abraham Lincoln was a wonderful President." She smiled at me. "It's true that we aren't rich, but if you can get a scholarship to a very good university, we'll all be very proud of you."
"I'll try my best," I said confidently.
For the next two weeks, I talked to all of the girls in my class, even the ones I didn't talk with much. I made sure to mention that I wanted to become President of the United States when I grew up. I was well-known in my fourth-grade class of twenty-five students, because I was that smart girl who loved to participate in class and had skipped a grade. I even talked to some of the boys in my class, even though back then I was in a phase of my life where I thought all boys had cooties.
Eventually, by the time of the election, all the girls in my class confirmed that they were going to vote for me. They knew that I was an intelligent, articulate student who would excellently represent her class in the student government. I had less luck with the boys, most of whom expressed that they were going to vote for Apu, the other candidate, mostly because he was a boy. Annoyed at the boys' behavior, after a little while I stopped trying to get them to vote for me. I instead focused on writing and preparing my candidate speech.
On the day of the election, Mrs. Edwards had Apu and I make our one-minute speeches to the class. I had to admit that Apu's speech was really well-written, even if his delivery was amusing thanks to his accent. My speech went swimmingly. I highlighted the reasons why I'd make a good Class Representative, and promised that I would make our class's voice heard in the student government.
After our speeches, the students in Room 404 wrote their votes down on little slips of paper, which they passed down their rows for Mrs. Edwards to pick up. I fidgeted as Mrs. Edwards counted the votes, almost certain that I would win. I mean, I was a presidential hopeful. I knew that I was the best person for the job.
"We have a winner," Mrs. Edwards declared. "Our Class Representative is… Apu! Congratulations."
The whole class clapped for Apu, who smiled humbly. But I was in shock, and it was all my eight-year-old self could do to not fly into a rage. How could I have lost? Hadn't I done everything? I had talked to so many classmates and worked so meticulously on my speech. Besides, it was clear that I was the best person for the job!
I could feel my blood boil, and I was about to start shouting in anger and frustration. There had to be a mistake. Mrs. Edwards must have miscounted the votes. But then I remembered what Ayesha said. She was right - if I wanted to be a good leader, I had to be calm and level-headed. So I took a deep breath and slouched down into my chair, sulking.
The rest of the day took forever to pass. Everything seemed ten times more boring thanks to the rotten mood I was in. When school finally ended, I didn't move from my seat. I wanted to vent my frustration to Mrs. Edwards, whom I still believed had made a mistake.
Mrs. Edwards was carrying a stack of papers to her desk when she noticed that I hadn't left the classroom yet. She put down her stack on an empty desk and sat in the empty chair next to mine, her facial expression soft.
"Autumn, I want you to know that you did very, very well," she said gently.
"But I didn't win," I said bitterly. I glared at my teacher. "You made a mistake, didn't you? You miscounted the votes."
"No, I didn't," she said with certainty. "I counted very, very carefully."
"I don't believe you," I said, narrowing my eyes. "My speech was perfect. There was no way I could have lost."
"I still have the votes with me," Mrs. Edwards said. "Do you want to count them yourself?"
"Yes."
Mrs. Edwards walked over to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a basket full of little slips of paper. She handed the basket to me and informed me that the votes were in the basket and that I could take as long as I want to count them.
I counted the votes very carefully. I got eleven votes, and Apu got… twelve. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had lost by the margin of one measly vote? I recounted the votes, and got the same thing. I sat back, dejected and fighting back tears.
"All of the girls in my class voted for me," I said slowly, "and all of the boys in the class voted for Apu. I lost because there are more boys than girls in this class."
"Yes," Mrs. Edwards said, nodding. "You are very observant. There are twelve girls and thirteen boys in this class, including you and Apu, so Apu won by the margin of one vote. I'm sorry, Autumn."
"I should have talked to the boys more," I said despairingly. "Then I probably would have won. My speech alone wasn't enough to sway them."
"Your speech was excellent, Autumn," Mrs. Edwards said encouragingly. "And don't beat yourself up too much. You can always run for Class Representative, Secretary, or Treasurer next year. And if you do, you'll learn from this year's campaign. I'll give you a tip. In real elections, candidates spend a lot of their time trying to win the votes of people they aren't sure will vote for them."
"Is that true?" I asked.
Mrs. Edwards nodded. "Those voters are called swing voters - look up that term, if you want," she said, winking.
"Got it. Thanks for the tip," I said, starting to feel a little better. "I'll definitely try running for student office again next year." I nodded. "Next time, I'll make sure not to make the same mistakes I made this time. And I'll keep what you've said in mind."
"A good politician learns from her mistakes and keeps trying," Mrs. Edwards said, nodding. "Granted, there aren't that many good politicians around these days, but I'm confident that you can be one."
"Why aren't there many good politicians?" I asked. "What's wrong with our politicians now?"
"Many things," Mrs. Edwards said, sighing. "You'll learn more about the issues with our political system when you get older, Autumn."
I frowned. "I don't like it when people say I have to wait until I'm older to learn something," I said. "I'm curious and I want to learn now."
Mrs. Edwards laughed genially. "Well, I don't think I'm the best person to teach you," she said, "because there are many points of view regarding politicians, and I can only provide one of them. I would suggest going to the library and asking the helpful librarians there to point you to many different sources."
"Thanks," I said excitedly. "I'm going to the library right now so I can learn about-"
"Autumn, wait a second," Mrs. Edwards said steadily. "I just want you to know what else a good politician does: She accepts defeat graciously and congratulates her worthy opponent for winning."
"Oh. Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I'll congratulate Apu tomorrow morning before class."
"That's a good girl," Mrs. Edwards said, smiling. "Don't give up on your dreams, Autumn. You are a smart, capable girl who is more than able to achieve them."
I smiled broadly. I knew that it was going to take more than a small defeat to hold me back. Saying goodbye to Mrs. Edwards, I headed to the library, where I spent the rest of the afternoon reading and learning, as usual. The next day, I kept my promise and congratulated Apu for winning. I continued studying and learning about government every day, and in fifth grade, I ran for Student Body Secretary.
This time, I won.
To be continued…
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