Meet Dulcinea and Erik, the heroes of my book The Dulcinea Project (46,000 words). This is a second edit. I’m planning to edit one more time – in February – and then send to proofreading/copy editing in March. This book, book 1 in a series, will be published at the beginning of April. I’m planning to publish book 2 in the series in April, 2020.
Genre: Young adult, adventure, fantasy
There’s zero sex/erotica in this book, which is a “new” step for Ray 😂
From Chapter 3
“I’d like each of you to briefly introduce yourself. We’ll start with Erik. Who are you? Why you are here?” said Mrs. Johansson, sitting on a chair and smiling at the class ‘Eleven’.
“I’m originally from New Jersey. My parents moved here three years ago. My dad is an engineer and my mum is a manager in an electronic company, ‘Tjoho.’ I don’t want to sound like a bad guy, but if anybody sees me at the school or on the street, DO NOT talk to me like you know me, or as if we are friends. Because we are NOT.”
“Very kind of you… so what makes you special, Erik?” Mrs. Johansson pretended she was interested in the way Erik tried to make himself different from the rest of us. I have been in this position before. They ask the important questions. They want you on their side. They pretend to be cool. But, in reality, they aren’t interested in the answers, or in you.
Who are ‘they’?
Ah, you know them well – grown ups!
“I can see the energies. Different people or objects represent different kinds of energy.”
“That’s all so far.”
“Maybe you’ll give us an example, Erik.”
He looked around. His eyes stopped at my table for a second, then moved to the left side of the room. I sighed, “Thank God” and… heard my name.
“Let’s take Lovescu.”
“Do you mean Dulcinea?”
“Yeah. What a name, right!? Ha ha!”
I looked down at my feet. The best part about feet – they are always down there when you need them.
“Her energy is the darkest here, in this room. I know she seems sweet and all that, but don’t be fooled by her nice, innocent look or that pink, fluffy short hair. The hue of her soul is the mix of all colors. It is ashy, faded and dark. I’d say you are seeing a D U L L mess of energy when you look at her.” Explained Erik.
“Are you saying she has a messy spirit? Don’t we all?” asked a voice near the window.
The class started to buzz.
“No. Her energy is peculiar. I’d call it – Swirling Darkness, without the end. Dreadful. Deathlike. Yes…” Erik paused, and the silence in the class was still there when he continued. “Death – that’s it.”
He couldn’t know it – nobody knew – but still, he said I’m spreading the worst energy in this room. What would he think of me if he knew that I had already killed two people (and probably 2 of Kaitlin’s cats)? What would they all think of me? Is it possible to be “good” while bringing wickedness wherever you went? And the most crucial question: how to stop being Death?
It is interesting how sometimes we wish for it, and then when the end arrives – we don’t. Death is like a double edge sword: sweet and bitter. We hate, respect, mourn and love it. Yes, death can be loved too. If only Erik could see that. But all I could find on his cute face was coldness. Grief. Horror. And pain: “You are evil energy, Lovinescu!”
“Evil energy” was hard enough for me to handle.
I looked at Erik, and I wanted him dead. Right at this moment. But all I did was burst into tears, run from the class and out of that damn building. I have never been a runner, but I felt that was the perfect moment to learn. The streets were almost empty. Where are you, people? And what is it for the place? Why my dad agreed to move here? He told me I don’t have any powers or super abilities, that I’m just a normal girl. Maybe a weird one, but still… Dad made me feel as ordinary as any typical teenager, but look – my life is R.U.I.N.E.D now. In one day. By one word.
No, I didn’t feel hate. Not to my parents, teacher, class or Erik. It was the emptiness and apathy that torn apart my soul.
I stopped beside a parked car and checked my own reflection in the dusty window. “What are you, Dulcinea?” I asked myself. “What are you?”
Next post – “The Pearl Territory”, chapter 5 #Alma – private journal