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Seven: The Beginning

Seven: The Beginning

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Seven: The Beginning

268 pagine
4 ore
Nov 29, 2012


Adven Charcole is just a twelve-year-old girl whos going on thirteen. Being a Christian is a privilege. But her community isnt making living out her faith any easier for her. Adven is just a normal girl, living her life at her school. Her task list? A few things: leading Bible studies, sports, helping out the community, and keeping her grades at the top. Above all, Adven spends most of her time talking to her Father in heaven and spending time with her friends.

Now, Advens strong faithor so she thinksis put to the test. A strange girl starts calling her The Chosen One and telling her about her destiny. Thrown into a world of confusion, Adven has no time to think. A mission is put into her hands: she must save seven children, and at the same time save the world. The children have been brainwashed and then also put into a world they know nothing of. Now, Advens faith and life are put on the line. The outcome could be perilous. It is a race against time.

Nov 29, 2012

Informazioni sull'autore

I was born in Chicago, Illinois, but grew up in the western suburbs of Chicago, mostly in Aurora. I am now 12 years old, in junior high, at Calvary Christian School in Naperville Illinois. Ever since I was eight years old, I have always wanted to write books to help poor children in countries like Sudan. Not only do I want them to know Jesus by reading my books, I want to donate the money I would make from selling my books to help them live a better life. As years went by, and as a young reader, I found it harder and harder to find clean fiction books to read. I realized that I could write books for people just like me and around me; so that through my writing I can help, not only poor children in places like Sudan, but children all over the world, rich or poor, come to know Jesus. I noticed that in the society that I live in, the whole world for that matter; a lot of youths are drawn to secular books instead of Christian books, mostly novels about witches, wizards, vampires and unwholesome teen romance. Even some of the “Christian fictions”, to my disappointment, appear to borrow from secular ideas every now and then. So, I wanted to write original, wholesome, interesting Christian books, not just some boring Christian novels or novels that lamely touch on subjects made popular by secular writers. Young Christians and other youths need to know that Christian books can actually be exciting.  I started writing when I was about seven years of age, and wrote quite a few short stories in those early writing years. I finished my first novel when I was twelve years old. From age seven to ten, I wrote stories with Christian themes, which featured animal characters for little kids. Now that I am more mature and have realized that young readers all over the world are in desperate need of clean fun books, especially for youths, I am committed to writing such books. I started working on my first novel, titled Seven, when I was eleven years old. Most of my upcoming novels will be on spiritual warfare, social life, and the Christian faith. By God’s grace, I plan on writing exciting, wholesome books until the Lord calls me home.

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Anteprima del libro

Seven - Amarachi Okoli

Copyright © 2012 Amarachi Okoli

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

1-(866) 928-1240

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

ISBN: 978-1-4497-7487-5 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012921056

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/21/2012

















Author’s Note to the Reader

About the Author

Note from author:

There are many different perspectives people have in this world of what the spiritual world is like. People have different thoughts on what Heaven will be for them, but all of them are inaccurate, because the human mind cannot comprehend the goodness of the Lord.

It is written, What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.

—1 Corinthians 2:9


As I turned over in bed, I lost my comfortable position… and five seconds of my beauty sleep. I drifted off to sleep once again, hoping to regain an extra five minutes of sleep. But instead of traveling into a peaceful, dreamless slumber, I found myself in a dark dream. And in this dream, I found myself walking through a dim, eerie, silent place.

Where am I? What is this place? Looking for an answer, I kept walking and got into a place where light came seeping through. It was a room with no darkness, but just light!

…hello…? I said, my voice a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

Suddenly, five things appeared in front of me: a chair, a small table, a huge book, a door, and a trap door.

What in the world? I said quietly, impulsively starting to walk toward the trap door, feeling drawn to it. I bent down and reached for it. Just as I was about pull back the latch and open the trap door, I was suddenly blown back by a blinding force and hit my head. While I was stunned, for some weird reason, the trap door opened, and felt myself sliding across the floor towards it, even when the floor wasn’t slippery, and before I knew it, I fell through the trap door, and it slammed shut behind me.

Instead of waking up with a jerk and a gasp as I usually did, I just quickly opened my eyes, silently startled. WHAT was THAT? I thought, clutching my chest through my thin tank top as I panted quietly, even though the dream wasn’t that frightening. Maybe it was from the imaginary force.

I glanced at my clock: 5:45am. Well, my alarm was about to ring anyway. I slammed the alarm off, and got out of bed, instead of dragging myself out of bed like I usually did.

Here we go, I mumbled.

As I shut the door behind me in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My smooth, tan, Hispanic face, jet-raven black hair held in a high braid, brown eyes, pointed nose, distinctive eyebrows, and my tall stature completely described my figure, even with sleeping wax in my eyes and strands of hair sticking out of my thick braid. I know that I totally describe myself as a beautiful person. A little self-pride isn’t that bad; just letting pride get out of control is the bad thing.

I am fearfully and wonderfully made, I said confidently, the quote from the Bible I always told myself every morning to encourage myself. And with that, I flipped on the switch for the vent and turned on the shower.


What’s up, Adven? You have a faraway look in your eyes? My friend, Jillian Rewper, said to me, snapping me back to reality.

Huh? I blinked rapidly, willing myself to wake up and face reality. Oh, sorry, I’m fine. Where are we sitting? I came back to Earth as I headed toward the back with my lunch tray. I sighed inwardly. I wasn’t much of a daydreamer, but then I looked like I was someone who was dreaming of something magnificent… which, at the moment, was something like candy land.

My friends and I made our way toward our usual lunch table.

Jillian was my best friend. She was fair-skinned and had long, chestnut-brown hair and hazel eyes. She was really energetic and funny, really nice, and good to have as a best friend.

Corie Brown, the soul sister, was my supporter and exceedingly intelligent friend. Corie had black hair which was usually held in a casual bun (that’s what made it prettier). She had brown eyes, eyebrows that some girls would kill for, and a great smile to top it all off.

SS, nicknamed for Sadie Siome, the Latina sister, was a chatterbox, and the total opposite of me. And, I mean, she was a serious CHATTERBOX. SS could say a hundred words in thirty seconds, two hundred if she was on a roll, which she always is. SS had black hair, but since she hated having her hair all the way down to her back, she got a haircut. Her hair that used to be down to her back, now was a centimeter over her neck, and the ends of her hair were cutely curled. SS wore silver nail polish and eye shadow most of the time, and she had threaded her eyebrows. Jillian and I thought it was disgusting and painful, and Corie stated that it was unreasonable and unrealistic, but SS paid no attention to us, and she had gotten her eyebrows threaded so much that they looked like they weren’t even there sometimes! But if SS liked it, then it was all good, at least that’s what I always said.

And last but not least, Malchia Cosmic. She was a bit mysterious to me. Almost pale in complexion, Malchia’s hair was naturally colored blonde, but she dyed it black, because she complained that blonde hair absolutely did NOT match pale skin. My friends amazed me about how concerned they were about their appearance; it made me laugh sometimes. Anyway, Malchia had electric blue eyes that kind of creeped me out, double pierced ears, black mascara every day, extended eyebrows, and long, clear-polished nails. To some people, she seemed a bit intimidating.

Man, I’m so tired all of a sudden, I noted with a sigh as I slammed my tray down on the table, making a clatter.

Testing? Corie assumed, as she opened her bowl of fruit salad. We had three of them already this morning.

Dunno, I replied, actually a bit confused. I don’t think so.

I took some time to pray over my meal, and Malchia and Jillian still gave me minimal weird looks. They had been doing that since the beginning of school, and they still hadn’t gotten used to it yet. I mean, Corie did the cross-prayer thing, y’know, like the hand going the forehead, then chest, left, then right. But, I guess it wasn’t as long and intense as mine. There was an awkward silence. Corie poked at her fruit salad as she started eating.

I felt them fidgeting and glancing at me, but I didn’t care. I just needed a minute with my Heavenly Father to thank Him for my provisions, that was all. What’s the big deal? I thought.

I immediately dug into my veggie wrap with delight. But when I looked up to the four pairs of eyes staring at me, I almost lost my appetite. What? I asked.

Hey, Adven, Jillian started. Don’t you feel, y’know, the least bit awkward doing your thing in front of everybody?

What’s there to be ashamed of? I asked.

Well, that pretty much ended that conversation right then and there.

Jillian nodded. ‘Kay, no prob. Then, she continued to eat. I snuck a quizzical look at her when she wasn’t looking. I don’t think they’ll ever get used to my ways, let alone me.

SS decided to break the awkward silence. So, she said cheerfully. What is your hardest subject in the SAT’s?

The question wasn’t that random actually, because SAT’s would be coming up soon. Oh, my goodness, I suddenly said, speaking up again. Social science. SOCIAL SCIENCE.

How come? Corie asked, crushing a grape in her mouth, and washing it down with her V8 drink.

Well, I don’t really know. I mean, stuff we don’t even know is in there, and all the laws ‘n stuff, it kinda crushes the west hemisphere of my brain, y’know what I’m saying? I replied thoughtfully.

Stuff like what? Jillian asked, munching on a cracker ‘n cheese ‘n turkey mini sandwich from her Lunchables pack.

You have Lunchables? SS asked in disbelief. Nobody gets that anymore, though!

I smiled a knowing smile. I remember the song we used to sing when we were younger. The songs on television?

In unison, we all sang, It doesn’t get better than this!

We all burst out laughing, including Jillian, and some of the other tables turned to look at what the commotion, but I ignored them. Even Corie smiled a bit. That is, like, so old now, you guys, she commented with a twitching grin.

When we finally composed ourselves, SS and I glanced over at the table across from us, where Hattie Horugh and her little group. (Have you ever read The Clique? If you have, then you know what I’m talking about already.) Hattie’s best friend Vicky was just like her, but they looked completely different in appearance. While Hattie had stick-straight brown hair and violet eyes, Vicky had blond hair and blue eyes. As previously stated, though completely opposite in appearance, Hattie and Vicky were completely the same in behavior.

You know, I began, you have to feel bad for that group. It seems that the only way they can communicate is to say something snide.

Even to each other, SS added. I nodded.

But one thing’s for sure, I said. The happier your countenance and kinder your attitude, the more friends you make.

Yeah, well said, Adven, Jillian agreed, Corie, SS, and Malchia nodding approvingly. And with that, we continued eating our lunch in peace.

After a while of silence between us, Corie suddenly broke the silence with a thoughtful question. Hey, Adven, she began, lifting her plastic fork and pointing it at me.

What’s up? I said freely, knowing she was asking a question. Jillian and Malchia listened intently, while SS went to set her lunch tray on the rack.

Even though this is a Christian school, Corie started looking around at the other youths in the room, have you noticed that some of the other puberties here don’t really act like their Christians?

I smiled, amused at her fancy words. Well, yeah, I mean, just because this is a Christian school, that doesn’t mean all of the people here are Christians, I replied, thinking I could settle it there, but I wasn’t sure what my friend was getting at.

No, I mean, have you ever thought about what their perspectives are of what being a real Christian is, and all that Heaven, Hell, and afterlife stuff? I mean, what do you think goes through their minds when they think of Christianity, Heaven, Hell, and all that stuff?

Well, first of all, I had no idea why Corie was asking me this. She had never really given this type of deep Biblical stuff a second thought.

Y’know, Corie, that’s a really deep question coming from you, I observed, still not exactly sure how to answer properly. Well, I think everyone has a different perspective of what Heaven and Hell is gonna be like. I honestly think that some of the youths here don’t understand what Christianity really is and means, But, it’s a tough thing to fully under what Heaven, Hell, and everything involved in Christianity and the afterlife really is about, for, as we know, God understands more than what our pitiful human minds can comprehend.

Right after I finished saying that, Malchia shoved her chair away from our table, stood up, dumped the last contents of her lunch in the trash, and walked away with a strut, out of the lunchroom

Jillian and SS cast confused glances at each other.

Was it something I said? I asked, breaking the silence with a concerned question. I had noticed that Malchia hadn’t said a word during a conversation, starting from when we talked about Hattie Horugh and her friends.

I don’t… know, Corie replied uncertainly.

The next minute, the bell rang. I gulped down the last of my lemon-flavored iced tea and shot the empty can in the trash, making a three-pointer.

Nice one, SS complimented to me, but I only half-heard her. Why would Malchia just walk out like that without a word? I thought.

C’mon, Adven! You don’t wanna be late for algebra, do you? Jillian called back to me as I stared off into space again. Without a word, I ran off after my friends to get to the math room first.

Sooner or later, I arrived at her locker, #33. Speedily and with ease, I twisted her combination: 7, 30, 40.

I popped open my locker and inspected it briefly. Quickly glancing into my side mirror, I glanced at my task wipe board. I snatched my dry-erase marker and added number three:


1. Study extra minutes for science exam

2. Go to the library at 2:45

3. TALK TO MALCHIA (What in the world is wrong with her?)

Taking a look at number three for a little while longer, I snapped the cover back on top of my dry-erase black marker, gathered my stuff for the next class, and slammed my locker shut. And with that, I skipped all the way down the hall, through the double doors, and down to the math room.

Along the way, I met up with Jillian. What’s up? I said smoothly.

Hey. Did you manage to solve problem fifty-three on the assignment? Jillian asked.

Yep, did you?

Nope, I think I’ll need some last minute help.

No problem, I told my friend as we strolled into the math room, the kind of stroll where you don’t have a care in the world.

Afterwards, class was done and we students were all talking about our role models, considering that we really had nothing else to do.

Hey, Adven, a girl across me named Megan Jones said to me.

What’s up? I replied, not looking up from my computer.

Who did you do for your superhero? Megan asked me.

Oh, me? I did Jesus, I said calmly. Of course, that was just plain me. Even though this was a Christian school, I took it for more than what it simply was.

I did Justin Bieber for my hero, said a girl named Sara, and she all of a sudden got a faraway look in her eyes. Josh, Megan and I looked at her weirdly. What? Sara held up her hands. I have all of his CD’s! And with that, she turned back to her work, blushing furiously. I chuckled. It was clear as day that Sarah had a maddening crush on the young pop star celebrity.

Don’t feel bad, Sarah, another girl named Anna said. I did Justin Bieber, too.

Why are guys so crazy about Justin Bieber? Jillian asked. It’s pretty clear that Justin Timberlake is a better pick.

What? No way! exclaimed another girl named Veronica. "Justin Timberlake is so out of date! Michael Bublé is definitely the best pick out of the three."

No, Anna and Sara insisted simultaneously. Sara apparently had been listening in on the debate. Timberlake and Bublé are out of season! Don’t you watch news? It’s just been Justin Bieber these days!

I don’t want part in this conversation, I confirmed to myself. Leaving the four girls to fight each other over which guy was hotter than which, I turned around and found Megan looking at me expectantly. Apparently, she had asked me a question. I asked her to repeat.

What made you pick Jesus as your superhero? Megan asked me. I mean, He’s the hero, yeah, we all know, but, why’d you pick Him? You could’ve done someone else more… modern, or something. Now here’s a chance to share my faith with someone who will hopefully listen, I thought.

Because, Jesus is really the only true Hero in and out of this world. Why? It’s what every superhero is meant to be: Jesus rose from the dead, and He saved so many people from death and eternal suffering. Now isn’t what the real hero does? I now realized my voice was getting a higher pitch. "He saves people, but then something happens to Him, but He comes back and saves everybody from danger. Sin! And besides, Jesus is modern, right, Megan? He’s alive and He’s coming again soon! It all comes together…"

Oh, great. I was preaching again! The last time that happened… oh, never mind. I always got carried away when it came to Biblical teachings and theological preferences and scriptural knowledge and canonical eruditions and sacred, holy acumens.

Er… yeah. That’s all, I finished quickly, realizing that now everyone was staring at me (everyone that is, except our math teacher, because she was on the phone). I turned around abruptly back to my desk. Thank God for giving me tan skin, because I was probably blushing horribly right now.

Soon enough, I was saved by the bell. I breathed a sigh of relief as I grabbed my books and fled the math room.

As I was walking through the hall, this time not fighting for my life to get to my locker like in 6th grade, a girl walked up to me mysteriously and whispered to me, Meet me at lunch tomorrow, chosen one. And then, she slipped away.

I stared after her. What in the world? Sheesh, what a creeper. That girl, Farrell, apparently, has been in my class for a while now. But to walk up to me and call me the chosen one? That was weird. Uncanny. Bizarre. CREEPY.

Oh, come on, Adven, I thought. It wasn’t that weird. She just walked up to you and called you the chosen one, but it wasn’t like she started reciting prophecies or anything.

I shrugged the thought off my shoulders (not literally, mind you) and made my usual stroll off to my locker, only to be delayed by a bunch of 8th grade girls, squealing and cooing over only-God-knows-what.

I narrowed my eyes as I slowly backed away. "Good grief," I muttered, smoothing my hair back into a neat braid. I quickly walked away from her to get enough space to cough.

They must’ve been pretty excited about something, I said to myself as I pulled out my Language 106 text book and my notebook.

You okay? asked Corie, who’s locker was right next to mine. You look a bit drained.

I didn’t wonder how Corie could notice the fatigue displayed on my face; she can read almost anything, even if it’s not in a book. I’m fine. That was actually a sixty-five percent lie, because I, for the most part, felt a bit, well, dog-beat, even though not a lot of things had happened so far through the day.

If I had just gotten off a plane, I would have been free to claim this as jetlag. But, no, I hadn’t been on a plane in about a month. Nope, definitely not jetlag. I sighed.

It’s probably just one of my days, I said to my mind. One of my days was when I felt bright in the morning, but when I hit about 5th period or 8th period, I started to feel drowsy.

Hopefully, I won’t fall asleep in 8th period, I muttered to myself with another sigh. Suddenly, I felt someone tap me. I whirled around right when SS popped up beside me.

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