Blue breaths is a book of action, adventure, deadly emotions, a simple inhale that can ean  life in solitude. An exhale that can mean certain death. Max, the main character has a rare kind of breath. Blue. In this world, Blue means spirit or soul. "Blue Breathers" are said to have godlike powers that can destroy universes. Because of this story, they are feared and are pushed into the darkness and said to 'Not exist' 

Chapter 1: Grasping Breath

I cower in the darkness, my breath held in my gas mask. My black clothing helping me in my obvious hiding spot, the shadows my only friend now. I pull my hood over my eyes, they are blue. They could easily be seen. I feel my heart beating against my chest, my stomach in knot. I would probably vomit if I had something to vomit, I haven't eaten in days. A beat of warm sweat that slowly coldens streams down my neck and around to my collar bones. I had been running. Holding my breath is beginning to burn, but this can save my life. I hear them, their suits of armour clinking. Clanking. They slowly walk as if they're taunting me, they know I am scared. But they are just as scared. I have to remind myself that. I curl my body more, I cower. I have to keep holding my breath in,  I can't let it go. The metal, inhuman clinking getting closer. Abruptly, a hand shot out and grabbed my shoulder. The metalic glove digging into my flesh and pulling me up, I was turned. My hood yanked down, my large, fearfilled blue eyes stood out from the rest of the dark alley way in which I seek refuge. The city grey, no lights. It was trashed. My blue eyes were clearly seen from yards away. My gas mask was ripped off my face carelessly, I can't hold my breath anymore. I exhaled deeply and began to breath quickly, my blue breath exposed in the damp, cold air. My life color seen as clear as the sun in the sky- Which we no longer see due to the clouds always in the sky. My body shook and spazzed, jolts of electricity sent through my body as the ruthless soldier which are usually called 'Breath takers' My vision blurring, it spun and began to darken. I reached out my pale hands to grasp the 'Breath Taker' I try hitting but my body convulses one more time before my very life went dark and cold.

Chapter 2: The Blue Prison I groan as I open my sore blue eyes, my vision was still blurry and spun. Outside of the barred, slit of a window was dark. My head dropped and my vision was dark again. I open my eyes once more, outside is a little brighter and my vision is a bit better. What time even is it? I think to myself, I attempt to move a finger. I look to it, it barely even twitched as if the muscles were dead. I guess I could try remembering who I am, maybe that shock rattled the memory out of me.
Max.
Maximus Little.
I am fourteen years old. I have.. Black hair last time I checked, but the black might just be because of dirt and oil.. I haven't taken a real bath for years. Gross.. Now that I think about it- My thinking cut off by my stomach growling loudly, it pained me. My body folds over in pain. I lie on my side unable to move anymore. Both the shock and my hunger pains not helping my ability to move. I decide just to lay there for a while, the cold cement floor doesn't feel good but it feels nice to actually be able to lay down. I've been sleeping on the run, sitting or leaning up against walls to sleep. I allow the peaceful moment to take hold of my sore, bruised, dirty body. I look around the room, grey had tainted it like the rest of this city. A rickety old bed with a stained, cut up mattress resting on a wooden bed frame that was rotting and falling apart. No way am I sleeping on that- No way am I staying in here either. I slowly sit back up, I try moving my fingers again. I can feel them and move them. I move my arm up, I feel my smooth, dirty face. My fingers run through my black, sticky, greasy hair. I stand and look down at my muddy black shoes. My dirty, ripped black pants. My black jacket that smelt of dirt and sweat. I am disgusted in myself, but I can't think of this now. I have to do what I have to do to survive. I stood and stretched for a moment until my spinning head took the best of me. I stumbled back and bashed the back of my already sore head into the concrete wall.