The starting of my new book. :D

So....I started a new book. This is what I have so far. What do you think??? :D Please do NOT share this or use it for any other purposes! :)



Looking back at the road behind him, Peter knew he could never go back again. He didn't know whether he would be welcome, it was just the fact of knowing things would never be the same again. He would miss it. Or would he? Peter couldn't decide. The village had always been a pleasurable one. Quiet, peaceable. Yet…somehow, he’d never felt like he belonged there. Without actually being shunned, he still felt the pain of living an outcast’s life, and now, as he shuffled along the dusty road that was created long ago by the good-doers , Peter realized that no one had really, truly loved him. They were polite…but they weren't genuine. He was a fool to have never noticed it before. None of it mattered now. He was gone…he wouldn't bother them any longer. A warm blast of summer heat pushed him from behind, and he could feel the sharp pricks of grit and small rock bouncing off his bare neck. Though it wasn't welcome, a strange feeling was starting to come over the boy with every step he took. He decided what it was called. ‘Doubt’. Questions flurried through his mind like a blizzard, barely giving him enough time to grasp at their meaning. Alone, lost, vulnerable, stupid, afraid. They were right. He should turn around and go back. He wasn't that far out, Reaching the camp by daybreak wouldst appear odd for him. Excuses were in his favor. This idea momentarily soothed Peter. He could go back…no one would even realize he had gone. Everything would go back to how it once was. But did he want that? Did he want to be comfortable, all the while knowing they laughed and judged when his back was turned? Did he want this? He took a step. He stopped. Three more steps. Pause. Was he going back or wasn't he? He didn't know. Soon, Peter found himself pacing in circles. With every step a dust cloud drifted past his leather boots, coating them in a dull, lifeless jacket. He couldn't turn back. He’d be failing himself. Everything Peter had ever lived for would be vanquished. He had to keep going, or coward was his name right along with misfit. He couldn't be both. It wasn't an option. Someday he would come back. Maybe months, or even years from now, Peter would find himself on this same, dusty road. But not as a coward, running from himself, but as a champion! He would prove himself. Everyone would love him, and pay the respect Peter deserved. Someday, but not now. Hours later, Peter found that the dirt road ended, and he was approaching a forest. Inviting was not a word that described this place. Dark maybe, foreboding. What would be in those woods? “Stop it, Coward!” Peter hissed in the darkness. “All you’ll ever get is nowhere with that attitude. I’m Peter….perhaps….yes, I’m Peter the great! No one, and nothing can stop me. I will go in those woods. I will conquer my fears….I…” His pep talk seemed small, unimportant when he realized the power around him. Vast, black sky above his head, so soft it looked as if it could serve a pillow for his tired body, stars piercing the velvet like silver studded earrings, how could he ever reach those stars? The moon, like a bright God of the universe, was grimacing down at him, Looking as if he’d like to say “You’re an idiot, boy. Acting as if this world couldn't devour you in an instance! Peter the great. As if!” the huge, shining face scoffed. It spit, and it swore, but only in Peter’s imagination. “Well? What is it you are waiting for, you great, lumbering fool! Go now. Enter my woods. My arena. I’d like to see you terminated, and maybe then, your big head won’t boast so much…I’d like to see you try!” Peter swallowed, he glanced at the menacing woods before him. There were dangerous things out there. Things that bit, and chopped, and murdered….creatures of the night. He’d heard them, once or twice beyond the borders of the village. Once, even, a little youngling was found dead, bloody scratches and patterns dug into his small, helpless body. Oh, why did he think of that? “Well?” The face grinned, bent on him failing. The large moon couldn't wait to see him pronounced a fool, a boasting fool. Peter had to go. He couldn't let this great, white orb win…he couldn't let the village be right. This was the first step in proving himself. Timid steps brought Peter face to face with the forest. The wind blew…or maybe it was a howl. Sharp knots formed in his arms and legs, sending chills up his spine. He was forcing himself to go in there. He was forcing himself to win. The moon, watching Peter’s every move, with that mocking smile on his face, shouted out to Peter in a rumbling voice of thunder “You’ll never reach the end alive, you little fool!” Peter could tell, the great, white face was sobbing. What about? Then the rain came down, or I should say ‘tears’ for the shining face had hid his condition  behind a cloud to conceal the sorrow that he really felt for the young fool, who had once been himself, long ago, when things weren't so hard. Two steps more, and Peter was in the forest. He was one with it. There was no escape. Birds or bats flapped above his head, he was startling the creatures from their hiding places. It was dark and eerie under this roof of leaves and branches. Peter could barely see his hand in front of his face, but he moved on. He missed the moon’s now hidden light, but the absence of his mockery was welcome. There were eyes glowing in the dark. Big ones, small ones, and excess ones. They were all staring at him, it was enough to make him want to scream. But he couldn't because there were too many beings out there in all that darkness, waiting for just one sound from him…one sound to give him away. Then they’d have him. They’d go to bed, full, content…glad that they’d found him. He had to be silent, like the snakes back in the village, slithering through the tall grass. The creatures would never realize he had been there, before it was too late. When the hot sun rays drove them back into their nasty holes. He’d be out by then. Yes, he’d be out. Making your way through a thick, unexplored forest is a difficult thing to accomplish…especially in the dark.