I Am the Least of These

I looked up from my humble mahogany desk and glanced in justifiable impatience at the spindly young man in front of me.

“What do you want? I am very busy copying the Holy Scriptures.”

He rubbed one disgustingly thin hand across his slick forehead with a weakling’s nervous move. I suppose some lesser people would be sorry for him but I knew his type. If someone was that thin and unhealthy they were obviously lazy, not working hard enough or spending too much on the sinful luxuries of this world. I myself was very careful to avoid all of these evils.

I raised my gold rimmed spectacles up on perfectly shaved dome and adjusted my large purse so it wasn’t weighing so heavily on my stomach.

“I-I w-wondered sir---“

“Father!” I rebuked the infidel sharply. Men like him had an irreverent habit of forgetting their place.

“Forgive me--F-father. I w-wondered if p-perhaps you c-could let me do some w- work around here for f-food? I-I have a hungry f-family waiting for me outside and n-no one will give me any w-work.”

I laid down my gold tipped quill pen sternly and turned my conscience probing gaze full on the abominable young man.

“How dare you lie to a man of God! Remember what happened to Ananias when he lied to St. Peter!”

“Forgive me F-Father. I d-did not mean to l-lie.”

My righteous furry began mount.

“How dare you lie to me again! I could call down heavenly fire on your sinful head!”

The man’s forehead, I saw with holy pleasure, began to flow with little rivers. Perhaps I was reaching the wretch’s conscience.

“You lied to me when you told me you could find no work.”

His eyes widened at my God given perception.

“A man can always find work if he is not too proud to accept a menial task. Those menial tasks are those which would make you holier if you were not too full of sinful pride.”

“I w-would accept anything F- Father.” I saw his hands clinch to drown out his dying conscience as he told me that filthy lie.

“You lie again!” all my being detested this brazen infidel. His soul would certainly burn forever in purgatory! “Out! I will have no liars in this holy house.”

The newest brother, who had been patiently waiting outside the door to speak with me, strode into my room without the proper reverence to one of God’s holy men and slamming his fists in wicked anger on my marble desk top he burst out most sinfully,

“And you say you are a man of God! How dare you lie, how dare you turn away his suffering children with only harsh words! I thought I would be serving God by taking orders but now that I see what you are I know I cannot serve God under such a wicked man.”

“Blasphemer! Stop!” I backed away from him and covered my ears so I wouldn’t have them profaned.

He leapt furiously at me and forced my hands away in a most shocking temper.

“It is you who have blasphemed! I am amazed God has not struck you down in his holy anger. It is you who should stop before you find yourself miserably in hell just like that man said. I can serve God better elsewhere!”

Tearing off his cowl with a most unholy quickness he hurled it at my highly revered head and taking the wicked young man by the arm lead him out slamming my monastery door with a horrifying bang.

Looking with God filled horror out my large gilded window I could see him helping the spindly man and an even more sinful looking woman across the street to a plush inn. How dare he say those things to me, God’s holy man!

Suddenly a spasm of pain ran down my spine and it began increasing until my body was filled with it. I dropped to the floor and writhed crying out to God to take it away. A bright light suddenly filled my room and a voice too powerful for my ears to take said,

‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’

~

A young man with a shaved head sat in a small pub eating breakfast the next morning when something on the front page of the morning paper beside him caught his eye. He quickly put down his steaming coffee and opened the paper. The article that got his interest just might be interesting to you too so I have copied it down word for word. Here it is:

Priest Dies Mysteriously

On Friday morning the Reverend Father, Egbert Wormdrag, was found by one of his servants dead on the floor of his spacious office. His features were contorted into a stomach turning look of horror and pain. A half written passage of scripture lay on his desk and a cowl, identified as a new brother’s who was heard to take an angry leave of the monastery that morning, was found on the floor beside him. The cause of death is not found but fowl play is not likely.

Challenge!

Well, some of us haven't been posting much on here recently. I know that for me, part of it is lack of time but most of it is lack of subject. So--I decided I would post a writing challenge. Here it is:

Write a story with a main character that you hate. Keep it preferably under 1000 words and post it on this blog. This is not a contest--just simply a challenge and a way of comparing ideas. If there are any readers of this blog who would like to participate they can send there stories to lilliputiangraciasscottland@gmail.com . Make the subject "LARK challenge" and give me a name you wish to be known by (it doesn't have to be your real one, I understand if you want more privacy than that since after all Hope is not my real name.). I will do a guest post of you story with your name being on there to make sure you get the credit.

I will post my story right after this and you can read it as an example of what I want.

Authors you don't have to do this I just thought we might find it an enjoyable exercise.

When Time Flies and Memories Linger - A Story of Thanksgiving

In honor of Thanksgiving, I am taking a break from the story I've been posting, and I am posting this story. Don't worry - I'll get back to the other one soon. Happy Thanksgiving! (Sorry, larkwriters, this is once again the same thing I just posted on my blog.)



For my wonderful big brother...

High in the branches of the ancient oak tree, Katy peered eagerly into the distance. Her brother could arrive any day, any hour, any second now. She imagined him in his seaman's attire, taking long strides down the dusty road towards home. His bag was thrown over his shoulder, and he was whistling some sailor's song. Katy could almost hear the joyous notes. She glanced hopefully at the road, but only tiny dust devils swirled around in the dirt. The only sound was that of the rustling leaves and a twittering bird on a nearby limb. Katy sighed and reluctantly climbed down the tree. Oh, how she missed Ryland! They used to do everything together, before he went off to sea. She longed for the days when they used to splash in the pond, skip through the meadows, and read in the Oak tree. He encouraged her to do the hard thing and face her fears. Now she had to face them on her own. Life just wasn't the same without him. She wished children never had to grow up and leave home; but time flew faster every day, every hour, every second, until it was zooming by at an uncontrollable rate. Responsibility became a bigger burden every passing year. Now all Katy could do was thank God for the childhood years they did have and the memories that still lingered.

As Katy dragged herself up the porch steps, Skittter, Ryland's dog, sauntered over to greet her. Katy reached down to pat Skitter's brown head. The dog whimpered, looking longingly down the road. Her big, hopeful, watery puppy eyes made Katy want to cry. “I know, Skitter. I miss him too.” She scratched the dog reassuringly behind her ears. “He'll be home soon.” But what if he wasn't? What if his ship went down in a terrible storm? What if pirates had attacked and killed him? Katy pushed the thoughts aside. Ryland would come home. He said he would. Katy gave Skitter one more pat and reached for the door handle. The smell of roasting turkey and baking apple pies drifted through the windows. Dinner would be ready soon, but Ryland wasn't there to share it.

Skitter suddenly let out an excited yelp. Her ears perked up, and she darted down the road into the setting sun, where a lone figure tromped through the dust. His strides were steady and long, and he wore a seaman's attire. A lighthearted whistle pierced the silent air. He stopped and stooped down to pet the tiny brown dog scampering to meet him. She jumped at his legs and her tail trembled with excitement. Katy's heart jumped to her throat, and she let out a scream. “Ryland!” She flew down the road, her hair blowing wildly behind her and her skirt threatening to trip her. Ryland looked up, his face streaked with the slobbery mud trails Skitter's tongue had left behind. He grinned when he met his sister's eyes and opened wide his arms to accept her into an embrace. Katy stumbled into his arms, laughing and crying. Behind her, she could hear the slam of the front door and cries of, “Ryland's home!” Soon Mama was flying out the door, tears streaming down her face and her hands and apron still covered in flour. The rest of the family tumbled out the door after her.

Shortly thereafter Katy's family gathered around the goodies at the dinner table. They held hands, bowed their heads, and Papa lifted up a prayer of thanksgiving. The meal talk mainly consisted of Ryland's tales of the sea. He no longer talked like a boy, but his words reflected a man of growing wisdom. Katy was somewhat sobered by the change, for she had missed the boy. Still, this new man inspired her to also grow and change. Life would never be same again; but Katy now knew that the change was for the better. Silently, Katy decided to embrace the change. She lifted up her own prayer of thanksgiving for the memories she had, the future ones still to be made, and the brother who created them.

Escaping the Night - Part 3

“This is your home?” Catherine examined the cottage before her. It could barely be two stories high. Smoke poured from the chimney, and a delicious aroma floated through the open windows. Two red-headed boys were playing with a dog in front of the door. Horses whinnied in the nearby stable.

“Yes. My Father built it shortly before he married my mother. Our family has lived here ever since,” Ember replied.

“But it's so small!” exclaimed Catherine. “How do you all fit in there?”

Ember laughed. “This is actually one of the bigger cottages in Ruby, and our family is small compared to many.” She led Amy and Catherine to the door. The boys scampered out of the way, staring curiously at Catherine. A girl barely older than Amy met them at the door. Her skin was freckled and pale, but her eyes sparkled green with life. Long red pig tails fell to her waist.

“Where have you been?” she hissed at Ember as they entered. “The Lord and Lady have been torturing us with questions of your whereabouts.”

“I'm sorry, Oriole. I'll explain later.” Ember whispered back. “Take care of Cricket's head wound for me.” She motioned at Catherine and then headed to the far side of the room where  the adults sat talking.

“Emmy, wait!” Oriole hissed again. “You have dust all over the backside of your dress!” The adults turned and stared. Ember blushed and quickly took a seat. After the adults resumed their conversation, she turned and scowled at Oriole. Ignoring her sister, Oriole grabbed Catherine's hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Amy followed.

After pulling out a chair for Catherine, Oriole grabbed a rag and basin of water. She started to clean the wound, but Catherine snatched the rag from her. “I can do it myself.”

Oriole frowned. “I was just trying to help.”

“I don't need help.” Catherine dabbed the rag at her wound and winced.

“What did you do?” Oriole questioned.

“She hit her head on a tree,” Amy chimed in.

“I didn't ask you, Amethyst.” Oriole said sternly. “I asked Cricket.” Amy stuck out her bottom lip and pretended to pout.

Catherine sighed. “My name is not Cricket. It's Catherine.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought that was what Emmy called you,” Oriole apologized.

Catherine rolled her eyes. “She never gets it right.”

“Where are you from?”

“The Dark Land.”

Oriole's emerald eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

Catherine didn't respond at first. Oriole had gone too far. “It doesn't matter,” she finally responded.

The sound of sobbing and scurrying feet suddenly reached the girls' ears. A door slammed, and all three girls dashed for the window. They saw Ember running towards the stable, and another girl stumbled behind her, trying to keep up with her.

“Uh oh,” Oriole murmured.

“What's happening?” Amy asked, squeezing herself between Catherine and Oriole.

“Emmy doesn't usually get that upset,” Oriole rushed into the sitting room and out the door. Catherine and Amy ran after her.

“I didn't mean to upset her!” an exasperated Lord Gem stood wringing his hands in the sitting room. “I thought she would be thrilled at the news.”

Lady Gem put a hand on her husband's arm. “Don't worry, Dear. The excitement was simply too much for her.”

“I apologize for my daughter's behavior,” said Ember's father. “She doesn't normally act this way.”

Catherine ignored the rambling Lord Gem and his wife, and soon out ran Oriole, reaching the stable first. Ember sat inside, sobbing. The girl, whom Catherine assumed was Becca, was trying her best to console Ember. The horses neighed uneasily, and the cool evening breeze whistled through the trees.

hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia

Okay so I saw this while I was looking up synoyms for the word "remember". It made me chuckle and I thought I might share it with you all.

 hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia--the fear of long words

I really do believe that I have a bad case of the above phobia! :) 

The Name of Hilts

The Name of Hilts

I grew up without knowing what my real name was. The director of the orphanage I lived in named me “Hilts” simply because the first time he saw me I reached down from the caretaker’s arms and grabbed hold of the ornamental sword hanging by his hip. He never bothered to specify whether or not Hilts was my first or last name so it served for both. 

Only once in my years at Cutsody Orphanage, when I was about fourteen and starting to feel independent, did I ever dare to ask how I got there. I received such a whipping that immediately made me suspicious and I began to ask quietly around for other’s stories. Most of the other children had been too young to remember but I finally found a girl who had been about four. She said that she could vaguely recall someone dragging her from her parents’ arms after she had received a spanking. The man who took her away told her that she had done nothing and her parents had been abusing her. She had cried and said she didn’t care; she wanted her Daddy back, for she was a father’s girl, but the man had insisted that her father was mean to her and hurt her. The next thing she could bring to mind was arriving at the orphanage where she had been given the name May, for the month she came. She didn’t remember what her parents’ name for her was.

I was very troubled by the girl’s story and began to convince myself that all of the children had similar stories--including me, though we had been younger when stolen and consequently couldn’t remember.

When I was sixteen I was turned out to find a way for myself in the world. I wasn’t very successful until I met an old gentleman who took a liking to me and adopted me as his son.  He soon got me several personal tutors and I began to gain the knowledge of a gentleman’s son. The thing I liked most was fencing and I excelled so much in this that my tutor quickly began using blunt swords. I am afraid that he bore a few scars from his year with me.

Just as I was beginning to feel myself doing well in the world two things happened that changed the course of my life. First, my adopted father died leaving me a large fortune and second, a rebellion arose.  The King needed my money to put it down and sent three men, Istented, Reginald and Slatter, to take the greater portion of my money away. They said it would be paid back to me in time but I am an old man now and have yet to see a penny of it. I had just enough money left to start a small fencing school and found that I really quite liked it.

One day as I was opening my building (the school was in the front and my living quarters in the back) I was accosted by a rather thick set man dressed in farmer’s clothes.

“How much do lessons cost laddy?”

I chuckled at the address because not only was I nearing thirty but this man obviously could not afford lessons.

“I know what you’re thinking lad. I’m too old and too poor but I reckon, I’ll find some way of affording them.”

“Well, can I ask why you want lessons?”

“Aye. That is a question I thought you would ask. Seems like every man needs a way to defend himself these days.”

“These days? I thought that the crime rate had gone down recently.” my eye brows went up.

“The rate of illegal crimes has sure, but the legal ones are getting more and more common.”

“I’m sorry; I guess I don’t quite understand you. How can something be legal while still being a crime?”

He glanced almost furtively around him and then quickly replied,“Aye.”

I looked at him sharply. “Aye” did not answer my question. Just then a policeman walked by his sword catching the sun and shining in my eyes. He looked searchingly at us.

“What are you talking about so quietly?”

“Quietly? I reckon I hadn’t noticed. I’m asking this lad here to give me fencing lessons but he’s not giving me a price.” the farmer leaned against my school's wall and assumed a wounded look.

The policemen sniggered and walked on.

The farmer watched until he was out of sight and then quickly stepped forward and said in a low voice, “What’s the price lad? I got some backing.”

I no doubt looked rather astonished but I swallowed my emotions and said, “Ten shillings a month.”

“What!”

“I don’t really need the money but you obviously need the fencing lessons for some--“ suddenly I remembered the policeman. Something about the farmer’s face suddenly struck me. “Come inside. I don’t have any appointments for a while so I can talk to you.”

Once the door closed behind us I turned on him.

“What have they done to you?”

He looked up at me with a guarded look but I could see he understood me perfectly.

“They took away my son and daughter, said we weren’t providing them a good enough education and that we were abusing them.”

“How long ago?”

“Only last year.”

“How old were they?”

“Fourteen and ten.”

I leaned against the door and let out my breath. He shifted from one leg to the other nervously and then removed his hat.

“Should we be starting lessons?”

“Aah-yes. One more question though, how can you getting fencing lessons help with anything?”

He glanced nervously around and dropped his voice again.

“I’m part of the rebellion led by The Iron. He’s the one backing me.”

“I thought so." I chewed on my lip for a while. If it was ever found out that I had taught someone to fence to was planning on using it against the government...I shuddered. It would be better not to think about it. I walked over to one of my racks and picked up a sword weighing it in my palm. After a moments consideration I handed it to the farmer and waved him to the center of the room. "Well, let’s start lessons.”

Two days later again as I was opening my school I was touched lightly on the shoulder.

“Are you the master?”

I turned to find myself looking into two of the bluest eyes I had ever seen. They shone with kindness but sparked with a submerged passion.

“I am. Can I help you?”

“Yes.” The young gentleman was rather small and pale but his eyes looked at me steadily with a hidden strength. “I was hoping I could get lessons. I am fully able to pay the price.”

“Yes you can get lessons. Come on in. I’ll start you now as I have no one else coming for a while.”

I handed him the light blunt edge training sword and showed him the defensive stance.

“I’m just going to spar easily with you at first to see how good you are and what area’s I will especially need to work on. Keep your eyes in your head and up on your toes. Try not to leave yourself open or get distracted. Keep your sword covering your body like so and don’t let me get past it.”

“Alright.” He smiled good naturedly but his eyes twinkled as if he saw some joke in the whole thing.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

I did a slow and easy thrust and he easily knocked it aside. Next a faster slide stroke, he knocked it with hardly more than a flick of the wrist. I glanced at him curiously, somehow I felt more like the student and him the master.  The next thing I knew the sword flew out of my hand with an expert twist from his weapon found myself  tripping over my feet in a useless effort to regain my balance.

“Try not to get distracted Master Hilts.” A smile played around his lips. “Or should I say, Leonard Victovsky?”

I starred dazedly up at him from my very dignified position on the floor.

“You do not recognize your own name? I am not surprised as you have not heard it since you were about one and a half years.”

“Leonard Victovsky is my name?” I didn't even notice the hand he offered me. My mouth was dry. How long I had searched for this information. But, my heart thumped painfully as I thought, was this a trusted source? “How do you know that and who are you?”

“How I know that is because I know your father.”

“My father?”

“Yes your father. And your mother and sister too.” He turned and walked towards my sword cabinet. "Quite a nice sword collection."

“Thanks." I got heavily to my feet. "How do you know my family?”

“It’s a long story. Perhaps you would like to hear it from them?” He walked to the other side of my small school and sat down on the large windowsill facing the road.

My suspicions where still very loud. Who was this and why had he taken such an interest in me that he had found what I had spent nearly all my life looking for?

“Who are you? How should I know you are telling the truth?”

He sighed and looked vacantly out my window for a moment.

“Who am I?” he turned back and fixed me with that wonderful blue gaze of his but there was a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “I have not heard my real name in years though I am called by the name my parents gave me. I have not been myself in three years though I am not pretending to be someone else. Who am I? A banished person though loved by my country. Who am I?  A lonely hermit though I have friends and am out in the social world. Who am I? A homesick child though I have a good place to lay my head and am old in mind and body. Who am I? My name is insignificant—I am known as the rebellion, the embodiment of the people--I am known as The Iron.”

Escaping the Night - Part 2

Catherine silently followed Ember down the small dirt path deep into the forest. Sharp whistled notes suddenly pierced the air with a short melody. A winged creature swooped out of a nearby tree and flew towards the girls. Catherine shrieked and ducked. Ember burst into giggles.

“It's just a bird, Silly.” She pointed to the branch where the creature now rested. The bird burst into song, repeating the joyous melody. It seemed to direct its song at Catherine, mocking her fear.

“A b-bird?” stuttered Catherine trying to recover.

“Don't tell me you've never seen a bird.” Ember stared at her in disbelief. Her wide, orange glowing eyes made Catherine suddenly feel warm, or was it just embarrassment? Her father would be ashamed of her for showing such weakness in front of a Rubian.

“We don't have birds in the Dark Land. Just bats.”

“Really? That's odd. We have birds all over. In fact, our country was named after that bird.” Ember motioned towards the still singing bird. “It's called a Ruby-bellied Minstrel. I love its song.” She sighed and paused to listen. The bird fluffed the feathers on its red belly in pride.

“I wish it would shut up,” Catherine grumbled.

“But its song is so pretty!” Ember protested.

“I think the word annoying would be more fitting.” She stooped down and snatched a small stone.

“No!” Ember cried out. She grabbed Catherine's forearms. “You can't do that!”

Catherine shoved her to the ground. Ember landed hard on her bottom in the dirt path. Startled by the commotion, the bird let out a frightened call and flew away. Catherine cursed and hurled the pebble at Ember. The girl's arms flew up to shield her face. The pebble bounced harmlessly off her elbow, dropping into her lap. Ember lowered her arms and scowled. Enjoying the girl's anger, Catherine laughed.

“It's not fun-”

“What's going on here?” A young man's voice cut Ember short. He walked towards the girls, his long strides quickly carrying him to Ember's side. After helping her up, he glanced at Catherine, but quickly averted his gaze.

“Cricket, this is my brother, Aaron,” Ember introduced him. “Aaron, this is Cricket.”

Catherine cleared her throat. “It's Catherine.”

“Hi.” Aaron smiled. He briefly lifted his eyes to hers; but they quickly found their way back to his dust-covered boots, his face turning the color of his bright colored hair.

“What's wrong?” Catherine demanded.

Aaron said nothing, his face redder than a ripe tomato. “It's your clothing, Cricket,” Ember explained. Catherine's eyes flew to her tight-fitting black shirt, pants, and boots. Puzzled she looked to Ember for more explanation. “It's considered inappropriate for women to wear pants here. We all wear skirts or dresses.”

“Why didn't you tell me before I agreed to come home with you?” Catherine questioned critically.

“Well, I was hoping the men would still be working in the orchards when we got there. Then you could have changed into one of my dresses. I didn't want to offend you.”

Catherine was just about to spit out a fiery response, but Aaron interrupted. “Ember, Lord Gem and his wife are at home hoping to visit with you.”

Ember groaned. “Did Becca come also?” she asked hopefully. “She is the only one who makes their visits bearable.”

“Aye, she is awaiting you anxiously.”

Ember grabbed Aaron's arm. “Tell them I'll be home shortly, but could you please send Amy to me with a clean dress for Cricket and a pair of my shoes? The Lord and Lady would be horrified if I showed up without shoes.” She giggled and wiggled her bare toes. “Perhaps they would even change their minds and allow me to marry who I wish.”

“Perhaps.” Aaron laughed. “But Mother and Father would be disappointed.”

Ember sighed. “I know.” Her eyes lost their fiery joy for a moment.

“I better go.” Aaron gave her a reassuring hug before turning to leave. Catherine watched him go, envy rising in her chest. She tried to ignore it, but she would never have a family member who would treat her in such a loving way. In the Dark Land, deep love was frowned upon.

“My little sister should be here soon with a dress for you.” Ember woke Catherine from her dreaming.

“I will not wear a dress,” Catherine protested. “If you want me to meet your family, they will have to accept me as I am.”

“My Father won't let you in the house dressed like that.” She motioned to Catherine's attire.

“Oh fine, but I'm not staying long.”

“Where else will you go?” Ember questioned.

“Someplace where the people aren't so weird.”

Ember laughed. “Good luck. You're the weird one.”

It was not long before Amy arrived with her little bundle. She looked a lot like her sister, but her hair was darker and her eyes sparkled lavender. “What's up with these colored eyes?” Catherine thought. She tried to remember what color Aaron's eyes were, but failed. Grudgingly she accepted the dress from the younger girl. Catherine quickly stepped into the shadows of the trees to change. Having never worn a dress in her life, it felt foreign and confining. The dress was a deep green with tiny white flowers decorating the trim and annoying bell sleeves like Ember's. The dress was also a tiny bit big for her small frame, but at least it was not a bright color like Ember's. Catherine left her old clothing there in the trees, knowing she would soon be back for them.

Ember nodded approvingly when Catherine rejoined the girls on the path. Amy looked at her curiously. “What did you do to your head?” she asked.

“I hit it on a tree.”

“Oh dear, I forgot all about that.” Ember frowned. “I guess we'll have to wash your head when we get home, but the Lord and Lady will be appalled.”

“What is so important about this Lord and Lady that I shouldn't offend them?” Catherine asked.

“They own all of this land along the river. My father oversees his orchards, and I am engaged to their son.”

“Do you want to be?”

“No. I've never even met him. He is overseas, representing Ruby in the peace conference in Lazes.”

“Then why must you marry him?”

“Lord and Lady Gem will threaten my Father's job if I refuse. Besides, my parents are pleased with the arrangement.”

“Don't worry about your parents, Ember!” Catherine protested. “This is your life! They can't choose how you live it.”

Tears flowed down Ember's cheeks. “You don't understand! I can't ruin someone else's life just because I want to live mine a certain way. It would dishonor Sum and the love he has showed me. As He has loved, so I must love, even if it means sacrifice.”

“You say Sum loves you! How can you say that when he puts you in such a position? Is that love? Causing you to do something that brings you pain?”

“True love doesn't promise zero pain or my heart's desires. It promises that He will do what is best for me, even if it does bring a little pain. I trust Sum to work everything out, because all things work together for the good of those who love Him. If Sum truly does not want me to marry him, He will provide a way out; but for all I know, the Lord and Lady's son may be the best husband I could ever have.” Ember wiped away her tears. Amy also sniffled nearby,  feeling deeply for her sister.

Catherine was shocked by Ember's determination. What would Ember say if she knew the past choices that Catherine had made? She pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away. There would be no living in the past. She had a new life to live now. Catherine had made her decisions, and Ember had made hers.

“Oh dear, I probably look terrible now,” Ember said, rubbing her red, swollen eyes.

“I'm sorry I caused you to cry,” Catherine whispered. “Oh Dear, was that apology that just slipped from my lips?” She shuddered inwardly.

Ember smiled, and her eyes filled with their joyous fire again. “My problems aren't your fault, Cricket. Don't worry about it.”

“We better go,” Amy urged.

“Yes, we better,” Ember agreed. She grasped Amy's hand and turned to leave. Catherine followed, feeling more out of place than ever.

Escaping the Night - Part 1

I know this is the same thing I just posted on my blog, but it's what I've been working on most recently. I have no idea where it is going. By the way, the main character was inspired by a nickname I somehow earned while I was at Hope's. Please tell me if my conversation sounds cheesy. Also, I didn't really point this out in my last story that I wrote, but I thought maybe I should clarify. In my little book world I've created, Sum is what my characters call God. Sum is the Latin verb for "I am." Also, Filius is what I'm using as the name for Jesus at the moment, and it just means "son." Okay, I'll let you read the story now.

Catherine stood on the bank, watching the rushing river gush out of the mountain side. It was said that once a mighty prophet had struck the mountain in his anger. A river had exploded out of the mountain side, sweeping away a throng of complaining followers. No man had ever been able to cross the wide river that had been created. Building a bridge would be impossible and swimming meant certain death, but Catherine intended to be the first to cross alive. She didn't have a choice. Freedom depended on it. She took one last look at the roaring water. Taking a deep breath, she retreated several steps back and then ran forward with all her might. She was going to leave the Dark Land forever, along with all its painful memories. Catherine's feet left the ground and she flew through the air towards the opposite bank. The ground returned sooner than expected, her momentum causing her to tumble across the ground. Her head smacked against a tree, and pain overcame her senses. Her surroundings blurred before going completely black.

“Are you okay?” a young voice questioned. Catherine slowly opened her eyes, trying to remember where she was. A headache pounded her skull, but she had made it! She was free! The sun peeked through the forest's canopy, illuminating a girl about her age leaning over her. Her fiery orange eyes were filled with curiosity, and auburn curls cascaded down her shoulders.

“I'm fine.” Catherine pushed herself to her feet. Dizziness instantly blurred her vision. The girl reached out to steady her, but Catherine shoved her away. “I'm okay, really.”

Her new companion crossed her arms and watched with twinkling eyes. “Are you sure? Blood is running down your forehead, and you can hardly stand by yourself.”

Catherine leaned against the tree to steady herself. She felt the warm blood trickling down her face, but ignored it. “It doesn't bother me.”

“That was a pretty big jump. I've never seen anyone cross that river before. How did you do it?”

“It's my ability gem,” Catherine replied. She slipped the chain off from around her neck and swung the medallion in the awed girl's face.

“You mean your gift stone.”

“No, ability gem. Nobody gave it to me,” Catherine retorted.

The girl shook her head. “Sum gives us all our abilities.”

Catherine rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She crossed her arms to match the fiery girl's stance. “So who are you anyways?”

“My name's Ember.” She extended her hand. A wide smile spread across her face.

Disgusting smile, Cricket thought. These Ruby Barbarians are weaklings. At least they are free from the Empress. She ignored Ember's outstretched hand. “I'm Catherine Campbell Corrie of Midnight's Claw, daughter of Clifton Clark Corrie, master of...”

“Midnight's Claw? What's that?”

Catherine sighed. “Oh, never mind! Do you have any gift stones?” She eyed Ember's clothing, searching for a necklace, ring, or belt that might hold one. She wore a bright red dress with bell sleeves and gold trim, but she saw no sign of a gift stone.

“Aye, but I'd rather not show mine right now if you don't mind.”

“Why not?”

“It's kind of hard to explain...” Ember uneasily examined her bare feet. “Would you like to meet my family?” She said, changing the subject. I assume you're not going to jump back over that river.”

“I'm never going back there.”

“Good.” Ember turned to leave. “Follow me. We need to do something about your head.”

Catherine hesitated. Could she trust Ember?

“Come on, Cricket!” Ember ran towards a path in the woods.

“My name's not Cricket!”

“Cathy? Whatever! Just come on!” She motioned wildly.

Catherine sighed. “Okay, okay. Don't fall apart. I'm coming. And it's Catherine.”

Lost in the Jungle of Africa

Angela has been bugging me to post but I haven't written anything worth posting. I was looking through some old stories and finally decided I would post this one just for fun. It was the first story I ever wrote-I was about seven. Enjoy and don't worry, I am perfectly aware now of how bad it is. Sometimes is makes me laugh to think how proud I was of it then- "Mommy look! I actually wrote a story! And it even has chapters!!" Lol.

                       LOST IN THE JUNGLE OF AFRICA

Chapter One ~ Missing Animals

Zondra walked as silently as she could through the jungle. She was a fourteen year old African girl. That morning the entire village had found all their cattle gone! So they went to look for them in the jungle. They had split up and were going different directions. Zondra was scared. She hoped that she could find them because there was a prize offered to the person that could find them. She and the rest of the villagers looked all day but in vain. Late that night the last stragglers came in, all of them tired and dejected. When Zondra woke up the next morning her dog, Cormorant was not beside her like he normally was. She got up and called to him but he did not answer. When breakfast was done he still hadn’t shown up but they all headed off for a different jungle anyway. As they were on their way Zondra thought she heard cows in the jungle they had looked in the day before. So Zondra doubled back and soon entered the jungle.

Chapter Two ~ A Clue

Zondra walked and walked toward the noises. Suddenly Zondra pricked her toe. She grunted and bent down. What she saw made her heart jump into her mouth. There in the dirt were cattle foot prints, dog foot prints and panther foot prints. Panther. “What were panthers doing in this jungle?” She wondered. Only once in her life before had she seen panther foot prints. But here they were, no doubt about it, panther foot prints. That’s when she heard it. A scream. It sounded like a woman’s but Zondra wasn’t going to be fooled. She new what it was. A PANTHER! Zondra felt her heart stand still. A PANTHER, “What should I do?” she thought. While Zondra was going through all this it began to rain.

Chapter Three ~ Lost

Zondra didn’t know how long she stood there but the next thing she knew, she saw a black form moving toward her. It was too misty to see what it was but Zondra guessed what it was. The panther. Quick as a flash Zondra scrambled up the nearest tree. Then she covered herself with the tree branches. She could hear it beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut. And held on. The noise went past her. And she, exhausted, drifted off to sleep. She woke up the next morning wondering where she was. When she remembered she decided to go home. She climbed down from the tree onto the ground. But when her feet touched the ground she remembered something. How was she going to get home? Then it came to her... Follow her foot prints back. Relieved she looked down on the ground. Her foot prints weren’t there. The rain had washed them away the night before. Now Zondra had to face reality. SHE WAS LOST!

Chapter Four ~ Found

As Zondra stood there stunned she heard a movement by her side. She quickly turned. What she saw didn’t relieve her any. Through the brush she could just barely make out spots of black fur. The panther. She thought of climbing the tree again but the black spots were in the way. The bushes parted to present a black head. Relieved Zondra dropped to her knees hugging the black head. “Cormorant!” she gasped. “Cormorant.” It was her dog, now she could have him take her home.

Chapter five ~ Unwanted Surprises  

Two days before Zondra had explained to her dog what she wanted him to do; now she told him to take her home. But her dog didn’t budge. So Zondra headed off by herself knowing that he would follow. Sure enough he came flying after her. But when he reached her he grabbed her clothes. Zondra, thinking she was going the wrong way, followed as he led her by her clothes. Soon they entered a small clearing. There in the clearing taking a nap was… the panther! Zondra didn’t know what to do. She looked at her dog, but he just stood there. She crept toward the panther cautiously. Cormorant ran past her Barking. She tried to grab him but he jumped past her. She was terrified that he would wake her enemy. Then she saw it…. two holes in the neck of the panther. Somehow Cormorant had killed him!

Chapter Six ~ Homeward Bound

She wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Cormorant had obviously wanted to show her that and now he acted like he wanted to show her something else. So she followed him. They went through a thicket and there in front of them were all forty of the village’s cows. Now it became clear to her what it was that had made her dog leave. He had smelled the cows during the night and had gone to find them. Then the panther had tracked them. That’s why there were all those foot prints mixed together. Then her dog and the panther had had a fight which Cormorant had won. Her dog was the black thing that passed her. She whistled to her dog and he rounded up the cows and started for home.

Chapter Seven~ Home and the Prize

When she saw her village she was so glad to see it that she ran ahead and beat the cattle there. Her mother and father were very glad to see her. Then she showed them the cows coming towards them. The villagers herded them back to the cow pen and then took her to their chief to get the reward. Her chief was glad to see the cows back for he would have lost sorely. He called all the villagers together. Then he said “My good tribe, we searched far and wide for the cows but none of us, not even the bravest who went even to the heart of the jungles, found them. But yet this young girl found them and got them home. Now bring whatever you wish to show this girl your gratitude. And I myself will give her gold trinkets such as only chiefs would wear.” All the people cheered and showers of things of gold and such where showered on her. But amidst all this she only thought of one thing. She was home! There would be no black forms that she thought were panthers. There would be no sleeping in trees who knows where. And Cormorant wouldn’t have to fight any black panthers. That’s when she decided what she would do with some of these things; make a gold collar for cormorant.

                            The End