Desperation Is The New Hope

By Jessica Simone

Enter the magical fantasy world of Patico in this new Fantasy fiction drama for Young Adult.
What happens when Eiara is forced to move with her parents to the other side of the Kingdom of Patico? A lot of strange things...
Eiara was just a regular girl, with a regular family, living in the magical Kingdom of Patico.
At a sudden turn of events, she and her family have to start over again!
Join Eiara in her amazing story of fantasy and magic, as she learns how to handle what life throws her way, and trying to be a normal teenager, all while discovering her special unfolding powers.
What kind of people will she meet? Who will she REALLY be able to trust? And most importantly... will she learn how to completely trust HERSELF and her powers?
What ensues is a stop-at-nothing battle for Eiara to decide where her trust and loyalty lies. Above all, Eiara empowers readers to take control of their life, choose their destiny and pursue it with gusto. With the help of bad boy, Mert and the boy-next-door, Eddero, things are about to take a turn!
Emotion and circumstance collide as one young woman is left to pick up the pieces of a move she never intended to make.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Simone
• Release date: Jun 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310126611

Jessica Simone

Jessica Simone is currently a college student majoring in psychology. She has been writing for several years, and has read tons of books. She likes making up stories in her free time. She is currently writing her second novel to the trilogy of Fighting Destiny. If you like fantasy romance with a sprinkle of adventure, check out her book, Desperation Is The New Hope! "Writing is like giving pieces of your heart away" - Jessica Simone

Book preview

Desperation is the

New Hope

By Jessica Simone

Book One of the Fighting Destiny Trilogy

Copyright © 2014 by Jessica Simone.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically it mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

Smashwords Edition

For my parents, Gwendolyn and Luis, and brothers, Lj, and Patrick, without their support this story might still be in my computer unfinished.

Acknowledgements

A huge thank you to all of you who helped make this a reality, either through direct involvement or appreciated moral support.

My parents, Gwendolyn and Luis, and my brothers Lj and Patrick, you guys were my backbone and I thank you so much for everything you have ever done for me.

I also want to thank my cousins Anissa, Shacora, and Zahtia for believing in me, and showing me that this isn’t just another book.

For my closest friends, Eddy, Mert, Lyndon, Ken, David, Kriston, and Tolu, you guys have supported me since day one. Thank you for your patience, understanding, and love.

And thank you, reader, for giving me this opportunity to touch your life, if only for a few hours. I hope you enjoy this story and come back for more.

Chapter one

Staring at the oval mirror; curious light brown eyes framed with brown lashes were staring back at me, expectantly. Somewhere in that reflection were the answers to the questions I had about myself. I was sure if I looked deep enough I could find them. And though I realize now how cliché some of those questions were, at the time they seemed somehow poignant and worthwhile. They were the ones that we all ask ourselves: Who am I? What’s my purpose in life? Why do I feel so lost within my own self? And…how do I find my way?

I mean, here I was at sixteen years of age–not too far from seventeen–and nobody has given me a clue as to what I was meant to do in life. In fact, the conversation has never come up. I figured the people around me were afraid I would mess up. Maybe they were right. But still, I thought looking at my reflection might tell me the answers. I blinked. Nothing…

I turned away from the mirror and looked at the large dainty bed trimmed with pink lace ruffles; laid on top was a knee length, sunny bright yellow dress with a thin, white ribbon around the waist. It was a beautiful dress, just for me. I crouched down low beside the bed and saw the shiny, black, four inch heels that had my name written all over them. I smiled. I slipped the dress on and tied the ribbon into a bow, then slid my feet into the heels; they fit snugly. I looked back at the mirror and saw a light-brown skinned girl with shoulder-length black, glossy hair, a slender pert nose, full, brown lips and manicured nails – perfection. I looked myself up and down, twisting and turning this way and that; examining every inch of myself, making sure everything was in place.

Hearing mama calling me, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and went quickly downstairs, two stairs at a time, to the kitchen. Mama and Da were sitting at the table eating; they had stacks of pancakes, peppered scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. Seeing all this made me hungry. I moved to take a seat and started filling up my plate with pancakes. Da glanced at me and went back to eating.

You look nice for school, he said, casually.

Mama looked at me curiously, "Don’t you think that’s a bit much for the first day at your new school, sweetheart?"

No! You guys made me move to a new school in my junior year. Now I have to make new friends, thanks to y’all, I sighed.

We’ve already had that conversation—more than one time, if I recall. Don’t be a brat, darling. It’s not becoming of you at all, Mama scolded.

I rolled my eyes and took a huge bite of my toast.

Besides, making new friends won’t be a problem, Da said swallowing down a mouthful.

I love my parents very much, but sometimes they just don’t get it. Back in her day, Mama—her name is Tressa—was popular with her wavy black hair and toned body; she was a cheerleader, dancer, and prom queen of her school; she was confident, spunky, and just a fun person to be around. She knew herself and what she was working with, nobody ever made her feel out of place because of this.

Da—his name is Lucio—on the other hand, played in the band and was a math geek. Yep, he was one of the nerds that the popular boys used to shove into the trash can. How they got together? I’ll never know.

Last year around this time, everything changed. My whole world was pulled up from under me, and I didn’t know how to stop it from happening. I felt like I was in this happy bubble that included my best friends, Lea, Chrissy, and Michaela; the teachers, like Mrs. Valentino, who just adored me. I mean, I had them eating right out the palm of my hand! And POP! My bubble got burst.

One day I came home from school, all smiles because I spoken to my crush. I couldn’t wait to tell my best friends how it felt–just to say Hi to him–he even smiled at me!

Mama and I were in the kitchen; she was cutting up carrots for the salad she had just made, and I was studying for a test when it happened. Da walked in, he looked at us, so unsure and uncomfortable, standing there beside the table. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but my instincts urged me to sprint over to hug him. As I wrapped my arms tightly around him, he told everybody to take a seat that he had something important to speak to us about. I was nervous; I began nibbling on my nails. He started telling us that he got a promotion from music instructor, to a member of the head council of the music industry. I was so excited for him, I was ready to bust out of my seat and do a little dance. I almost didn’t hear the part when he said we had to move to the other end of the Kingdom for his new job.

When he told us the news, he was looking right at me, concerned about my reaction. I sat still in my seat, stiff arrow back, frozen.

No way! Get the fuck out of here!? I thought to myself.

Don’t get me wrong. I was happy for my Da. But moving from the Northern Zone to the Eastern Zone was like moving clear across the Kingdom.

This was insane! Who would have thought? I just established myself at my high school; made new friends, gotten to know my teachers, and spoke to my crush. I was starting to create my life here, and now they wanted me to abandon it, like a lost piece of artwork that I had been searching for. That’s just like going shopping for new outfits, spending the entire day at the store trying on clothes and shoes, just to walk away empty handed! Who does that? Just to go through the same awkwardness and unfamiliarity again. No. No. No. I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me.

Mama sat me down later that evening when Da was off in the den doing what he needed to do to get ready for his new position, and she explained to me how it worked.

Your Da doesn’t have a choice in this matter, she said. "I know that we don’t talk to you that much about the Kingdom and how things work. But in order to have the nice things that we have–to enjoy the peace and prosperity of the Kingdom–we are obligated to comply with the wishes of those that dedicate themselves to keeping us all safe and happy.

The system is like a symphony. All the instruments, big or small, have their part, and come in when the conductor says so. Your father is simply an instrument—and a relatively small one at that, and in this case, the King is the conductor. If he waves his wand in that direction, that’s the direction we go. And if the wand is not in his hand, but in the hand of the Director of the Council of Music, it changes nothing. We go." She smiled that mom smile of hers and waited for the words to sink in.

What about your job, Mama? I asked, hoping that it would make a difference.

But she showed no emotion. My job has offices all over the Kingdom. One is pretty much the same as another. It won’t change what I do, and being around new and different people might spice things up a little.

I guess I had to like her attitude.

I’ll need some new clothes then, and some new shoes, too, if I’m going to make a good first impression, I said raising my eye brows, trying to make an angelic expression. That’s the girl I know, Mama laughed. You never know, you just might like it. It is the best school in Patico, after all.

I realized Mama was talking to me.

What? I said coming back to the present.

"I said you’re gonna be late for school, go!" she said urgently.

I leaned over and kissed Mama and Da on the cheek, and hurried out the door.

Chapter two

I realize this is going to sound a bit naïve, but I’m not really sure how big the Kingdom of Patico is. I’m not sure of many who do—not many my age, anyway. Most of my peers pretty much stick to the places they live.

All the Council and Director buildings, unlike schools and markets and other public entities, are placed in every sub-development in every zone, and are housed strategically in specific buildings and areas depending upon function. Those most important to the king are closest to the palace, while those like the Council of Music are closer to the University and the people.

That’s why we moved. Da wanted to be in walking distance to the Music Council office building. Of course, with his new position and title, Da is entitled to an electric coach. But he’s not much of a gadget guy and thinks it would be tedious to have to concern himself with charging batteries, and keeping up with the permits. I tried to talk him into a horse and small carriage. But horses were hard to come by—most were clopping along beneath the butts of the King’s Guard. Besides, he said, where would we keep it?

So I’ll walk to school. What else is new?

As for the Guard, it was a daily presence in our lives. It made us feel safe. Every sub-development had its own precinct, and every neighborhood had its own watchmen. Three was the magic number, and each did an eight hour beat, riding tall in the saddle in their crisp red uniforms and black tams, the shoed feet of the horse clopping along leisurely up and down the cobblestoned streets. Everybody in the neighborhood knew them by name, and they us.

There were other guards, too. More like soldiers they were. But these were assigned to the Wall. The Wall, too, was a prominent figure in our lives, so much so that we often spoke of it as it had life itself.

It—the Wall, that is—is a tall, wide structure that runs the entire kingdom around—a trip that would take three whole days if you traveled non-stop by horse. At least that’s what I’ve heard. The whole thing is constructed of huge blocks of granite, each as long as the tallest man, and half again as high and wide. One on top of the other they are set and fit in an alternating pattern, like the castle walls you see in pictures from ancient times.

It is so high that four grown men standing on each other’s shoulders would not be able to reach the upper ledge, and it is wide enough for three men to walk shoulder to shoulder all the way around and still not be exposed to any danger that may come from beyond the wall. There are also arches and towers spaced strategically apart so that anyone up that high could see for miles. I have no idea who built it, or how the stones were moved into place, or even how long ago it was built.

It’s rumored that there is no gate, no way in and no way out. But then again, there are those that say there are secret ways in and out, known only by the King, and those most loyal to him.

Now, I admit that I have never been to the wall, and have only seen glimpses of it from afar. I’m not even sure how close we are to the Wall in my new neighborhood.

Thinking more about the wall and my new situation than where I was going, I was oblivious to the distinct sound of an approaching horse, and it was near upon me before I realized it. I knew without looking it was a guardsman.

Excuse me young miss, he said in that practiced politeness that they have. But I don’t reckon having seen you about these streets before.

No, sir guard, I said using the accepted title when not yet introduced. We just moved in. My Da has a new position.

Ah, yes, he nodded. You are the daughter of the new Music Council member. It’s only you then?

Me? He caught me off guard.

No brothers or sisters, he said, as a statement.

I shook my head once or twice, Just me.

Well, good luck to you, He pointed vaguely ahead, The school is just there. And before he resumed his beat, he added, The name’s Nathan.

Eiara, I said.

There are thirty-three high schools spread throughout Patico, and all are within walking distance for the kids that attend each school. Education is a big thing, and every student is expected to do well and dedicate him or herself to learning. The Kingdom depends upon it, says the King. Students that did well were provided all kinds of opportunities; such as sports, music, the arts, and even extra holidays. Those that didn’t