Shape shifters, world shifters, and time shifters... an idea I had mulling around in my brain for ages until I finally began to wrote it. It took me a few story starts to get into the swing of things, but I finally got it going. Anyway, if anyone could help me with suggestions (especially about character descriptions, place descriptions and when and where to put them, as well as good guidelines about how much/how little to write about each character), as well as any other areas, I would be grateful.
Anyhow, here it is. I've given it a quick edit, but it will need more work. ^_^
Chapter One
It was too much to expect me to stay in one place, he reasoned, I’m here now; I don’t know how I got here, but I’m here. I’m not there –which is all that matters. He pressed the pillow a little closer to him. He knew he was too old to do this sort of thing –which was why it was so good that he was alone in this small, weird room. He could do whatever he liked in here. Yet despite the possibilities, he only wanted to do one simple thing: hug the pillow, look up at the strangely real fake stars in the ceiling, and just imagine he was here. He just wanted to watch as yet another shooting star went by. …When had been the last time he’d seen a shooting star in the city? Here, however, one went past every minute. It was good, this place; he wanted to lie still and just breathe as he slowly forgot… slowly forgot and imagined.
But despite the peacefulness of his surroundings, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Some thing just didn’t make sense: this was all far too real…
No! he told himself firmly, squeezing the pillow harder, I’m not going to think about that anymore! Instead he turned his attention on the giant ferns wafting gently over him in some unseen breeze, the stars with their unnatural beauty above, and the tickle of the soft grass (–really soft, not just cushiony) below him. He didn’t know where he was, but like everything else, that didn’t matter.
And as he watched the stars, he started to dream… started to dream about flitting from one world to the next; started to remember the things he had done. But these memories… they seemed far too clear. He hadn’t really done these things; they were just happy imaginings from a time when life had been a living hell. They hadn’t been real… so why did he remember them like they were?
No, I won’t think about it! That life doesn’t exist anymore. I’m whoever I want to be, wherever I want to be. All I need to do is think of a good name…Yet there was no time to choose something suitable; already he was about to be discovered. From the house-sized hedge past his feet, a slim, bright crack appeared. Before he had time to even think about what it was, a door-shaped piece of green leaves swung inwards, and voices suddenly sprang into life. A crowd of shadowy bodies appeared against a backdrop of bright light streaming out of the opening.
“-So as not to bore you further, this is what your rooms will…â€