Storytelling competition ^^

Hey lil' peeps! Erm Bus here... hmm the state of our blog is so totally demeanable...
Nobody does anything - -' (Well... I do something.. 'nobody' refers to the other two ppl ><) Hmm anyways i cooked up an idea (or rather i'm plagiarizing one... from neopets ahaha) Well... here's how it goes. One of us (not yet decided who~) start a story and then the other ppl (this'll be the other 2 authors XD) write a few paragraphs to continue it. It'll continue on until the story ends!=) One rule though... The authors are not allowed to discuss what they're writing. So it'll be each individual's idea and everyone of us will have to be creative to follow it up! Hmm to make each author's writing separate so we know who's who... I'll be writing in teal... (this is teal isnt it XD). Erm Bar's will be in pink and Bell's will be in fuschia (is this how to spell it!! Wat the heck is this - -')
And the judge of this competition will be me!! So i'll pick who've won it once it's finished =P
Alrite story starts... with Bells...(She said my opening really sucked T_T so she'll do it *scoffs) Here!! =)

( err.. dont laugh at it. or be mean. or terlebih. )

This is the day, thought little Tristan Harper. The day he, and the rest of his family would be hearing out his great grandfather's will. The family's beloved Arthur Harper had died of a sudden heart attack during a hunting game with several of his poker buds. Apparently, the sound of the gun was enough to kill the poor man. Tristan woke up feeling excited, knowing he will be getting something special. He was, after all the 'favourite', as his siblings often tease him.

The morning felt strangely gloomy, as the reading of the will was held only 3 days after Arthur's death. Thirteen year old Tristan entered the family lawyer's room, along with his parents and took the seat across the desk. It looked like morning assembly at school, thought Arthur. Half an hour passed by, and about 80 Harpers filled the now fully packed room. Mr Kulash, the lawyer, entered the room, announced his condolences and stated several law-related things Tristan didnt care about. All he cared about was Arthur's vintage bow and arrow, his collection of preserved insects, his money, his mansion...

As the reading of the will went on, everyone paid attention. The great Arhur Harper was one heck of a man and had left a great legacy. One would only expect to get rich or somehow obtain a valuable item. Eventually, Mr Kulash said Tristan's name. His heart started pounding, and he felt all the adrenaline rushing throughout his body. He stood, at the thought of getting that island in the Caribbeans or the yacht...

"To my dearest favourite great grandson, Tristan. I hope you can understand why im giving you this item, and hope you'll treasure it for the rest of your life. Things are not always what they seem. I wish you'd see that. Remember what ive told you, and always think ahead. Cheers, little man."

Mr Kulash handed him a package wrapped with string. Without a thought, Tristan ripped the package open, as if posessed. Finally, there was no more paper, no more wrapping and no more movements. The great Arthur Harper had given Tristan a whistle.
LOLZ omg, dont kacau me, okay. I dont write stories.

My turn here goes ><

The whole room was silent. Silent gasps could be heard in the background. Then, there was a snicker or two. Tristan stared at the item in hand dumbfounded. A whistle? No way, there's got to be a mistake! What happened to my lush island or that luxurious yacht?
He approached the lawyer and asked for an explanation but Kulash seemed impregnable to emotions. His eyes were dead cold. He resumed the reading. However, Tristan snatched the will and reread the statement over and over again. It's not fair. It's not fair!! He heard himself shouting in his head. Then, he heard the other Harpers gesturing Tristan to let the lawyer continue reading the will. Tristan had no choice. He backed down and headed to his bedroom to lick his wounds.
About half an hour later the young Harper sat on his bed. The bad weather outside only served to fuel his gloomy mood. He analyzed the whistle his great grandfather had entrusted him with. It was a rather normal looking whistle except for a rose like symbol carved into it. Tristan thought it looked oddly familiar. It was a symbol he had seen a long, long time ago...

For a moment, the 7 year old Tristan Harper was running in the courtyards of 'The Cottage', one of the Great Arthur's many mansions. As he turned swiftly around the corner he almost bumped into someone but managed to stop himself in time. He was astounded to see his great grandfather standing with a walking stick in front of him. He stuttered and apologized.
Arthur waved it off and spoke softly. His voice was frail and barely a whisper but it had a certain sense of authority that would compel anyone to strain to hear this old man's voice. 'Tristan, I have something I need to give you.'
With that, he pulled out a rather old looking wooden box and handed it to Tristan. He accepted it and noticed a rose carved into its lid. Arthur turned and said, 'My boy, this wooden box is named after the rose carved onto its lid. It has exactly 30 petals - remember that. You must open it after I have gone from this world. Only then will you understand.' The Great Arthur whispered it's name to the young Tristan and then turned and walked away.

Sitting on his bed, Tristan thought about what happened 6 years ago. He finally got up from his bed and opened the closet. In it was a very old but sturdy looking safe that seemed to have withstood the flow of time. He keyed in the numbers of his great grandfather's birthday. He heard the sound of metal clunking and then the safe opened. He took out the sole item in the safe. For a moment, he tried hard to remember the box's name. 'Oh, yes. I remember now,' Tristan whispered to himself. He took a look at the object he was holding. In his hands was The Black Magic.