Finding Love

Troy looks at the students who flock the school corridors and he sees a blur of colors and faces he has seen a million times before. He wishes he had a drink to be able to sit to watch the blur of people, himself, and the world, to be able to realize that he knows everyone and still he is unhappy. “What’s there to be unhappy about? Is life going too slow?” he asks as he closes his eyes and remembers yesterday when he was in primary school, and the day before when he was in pre-school, and the day before when he was in baby care. Troy grits his teeth and then he looks away. “I wish I had a drink right now;” he mutters before he turns and almost runs into someone he has noticed a thousand times over but never had the guts to go near. “Loser;” he mutters making the girl turn her head. Amber looks behind and sees Troy and she narrows her eyes. Troy smiles and shrugs before a crowd of people flock and the girl vanishes with them. Troy narrows his eyes and he wonders about Amber – he doesn’t care about the people calling his name for him to move right or left; he just sits on his wonder and wishes he had the guts to ask her out – but he doesn’t; he feels there is a wall and he can’t take it down or it would change his life forever. So, Troy turns away and when he does he closes the door of curiosity. Later in the day there is a long canteen line – Troy rolls his eyes and his stomach grumbles; he is famished and it will take twenty minutes just to be served. Troy rolls his eyes and he looks around – he sees Amber a couple of people ahead and he feels like asking if he can cut in; however he doesn’t, he just stares, and when he does he almost sees himself reaching out to take her hand which sits limp by her skirt. He thinks about it – touching her hand, and feeling like their worlds have finally joined to make them friends; but then he feels a rash of red and he looks around and sees all the world gone quiet so that all those around can send dark stares their way; their eyes turn black and a blonde spotlight sits over Troy telling him he has been seen and it has not been liked. Troy grunts as he lets go of Ambers hand and the world turns normal once again. “That’s what it’s like exactly;” he mutters before a nudge in the back tell him to move forward with the queue which has moved up half a meter. Troy sits in his car thinking about Amber. He wishes he could offer her a ride home, but all he can offer her is silence. He hasn’t even said hello, just stared at her from a distance. He wishes he could do more than that, but he hasn’t thought of what. There is a gap in his life which has a spot to fill and he wishes he could invite her to fill it - but life is hard, and the people are harder on the people who try to make the impossible happen. Troy wipes his brow and he looks across the street and he sees Amber walking down the street as happy as a person who has just had their first birthday. He starts his car and he follows her; he stares as he drives as slowly as a granny down the street glaring at her like he has been hooked onto a line he can’t get off. Amber looks in the reflection of a car and she sees a silver car driving slowly behind her. She passes a store and she stops to stare in the reflection of a window, and she narrows her eyes as she sees Troy staring with his head sticking out of the window. She narrows her eyes, then after a second he revs his car and leaves. Troy walks the dock on the harbor-side which he lives. The world is quiet in the afternoon and he feels an itch on his neck which is stronger than any mosquito bite – it is stress. He wishes he could decide what he wants with Amber - he wants to ask her out, but then he thinks of the world and the people in it and he thinks that no one will like him if he did ask her out. Troy gets an itch again, and then he kicks a pebble into the water before moving back to his house. At school Troy sees Amber collecting her books from a locker. He stares at her, and then he glares at her as he tries to tell his feet to move - they stand rock still. Troy can’t stop staring and when Amber looks over he freaks out – slowly he turns away to glares at a different locker, and then when he turns his head she is gone. After school Troy hangs out at the mall and he looks at a range of bags. He finds one for him, then he finds a shirt for him, and then at last he passes some jewelry on sale and finds a watch for him; but then his eyes glance across at the lady’s section and he finds a heap of jewelry on special, and one of the things he finds is a locket. Troy opens it and he thinks of what he can put inside of it; “This will do;” he mutters before he snatches it and walks to the counter to pay. The next day at school Troy searches for Amber - she is in the gym practicing cheers when he finds her. Troy rushes behind her to tap her on the shoulder and when he does she does a jump which bangs her head into Troy’s face. Troy drops the locket and he holds his nose as he turns away. Amber rubs her head as she turns to look at who is behind; she raises her brows as she sees Troy. “You’ve hurt my nose!” he yells before he rushes off with blood streaming down his fingers. Amber narrows her eyes at Troy. “Hold your head back!” she yells but he doesn’t hear her. Amber sighs and she looks to the ground to feel sorry for Troy, and when she lowers her stare she sees the locket which she picks it up. Amber opens the locket – inside is the picture of a flower and she closes it fast. “Finders-keepers;” she sings before she pockets the locket and runs off to get changed into her normal school clothes. The next day Amber wears the locket to school and she shows her friends the small item. They gather to look and as they do Troy passes by and glances across - he drops his jaw when he sees the locket and he rushes over to snatch it. The chain breaks and Troy steps back with the locket inside of his hand. “Sorry, that’s mine;” he tells her. Amber blinks as all her friends move away. “I must have dropped it when you had hit me in the face;” he mutters. Amber shrugs. “Sorry, I thought it was just junk;” she mutters. “That’s fine;” tells Troy as he is unable to announce the words that he had brought it for her as he pockets the item. “So, do you want to go out sometime?” he asks. Amber blinks and then scoffs. “What?” she asks. “I have a car;” he mutters. “I could take you somewhere after school;” Amber shrugs. “Okay;” she mutters. Troy shrugs. “Great;” he smiles as he notices the hall growing quiet. “Meet me at the front after school;” he mutters before he turns away. When turned away Troy smiles and he feels a drip of ice-cold sweat dribble down his right cheek. Amber slips into Troy’s car and they drive off. Troy feels a little bit of burn as his friends stare at him at a crossing, but after a wave he moves on and feels less uncomfortable about driving Amber around. The wind slips through the gap at the top of the window and helps to cool his hot head. As soon as the car hits the highway Troy presses on the pedal and lets the wheels of the car grow wings. Amber rolls her eyes to Troy as the car stops at the lookout which is a popular make-out point for teens. “You’ve got to be kidding a corny make-out point?” she asks. “It’s got a nice view;” he mutters with a smile. “I thought you said a date like a movie or something… not this…” she argues. “I’m sorry – what else are you expecting?” he asks as he raises his voice. “You go out with me and you give me some action;” he mutters as he undoes his belt to show he is serious. “So you use your mouth for something more than talking;” he mutters. “Well cancel the date then;” mutters Amber as she crosses her arms. “I’m not doing that;” “Then that’s it;” mutters Troy as he puts his belt back together. “No action, nothing else;” he tells her. “If you don’t sleep with me now then we’re through;” Amber nibbles on her lip. “Well I guess we could try just having sex;” she shrugs. Troy smiles. “That’s fine;” he mutters. “That’s what the back is for;” At school Amber avoids Troy - their sexual relationship didn’t work out and so she turns her back every time she sees him. Troy feels his heart dip, and then he grows mad when she snubs him over again – even at hello she turns to walk away. Jack notices Amber’s slack performance on the cheer squad and he rolls his eyes. He picks up a football and throws it at her – the ball hits Amber is the stomach and she rolls her eyes as the ball drops at her feet. “Get off the field!” he jeers as his friends laugh. Amber turns away and wipes her eyes – she hates Jack, and she kicks the ball away to show him she hates him as he approaches to pick it up. “None of that now, it was just some harmless fun;’ he mutters as he picks up the ball. “By the way, your performance really sucks;” he tells her. “It’s really bad;” “Oh okay, then you take my place then;” tells Amber before she walks away. Troy glares at Amber as she stands reading the notice board – she has been kicked off the cheer team and she feels upset that she will not be going interstate for the football challenge event. Troy touches her arm. “Go out with me;” he mutters. Amber shrugs. “Sure, I’ve got nothing else to do;” she mutters. “Great!” retorts Troy as he takes her hand. “I’ve got so much I want to talk about;” he tells her. “I’ve been thinking about us ever since our last date!” Troy and Amber date on a regular basis for a few weeks. Troy tells Amber he might like to marry her after school has finished, and excited Amber rushes home to tell her parents that she will not be going to college because she is going to get married after she has finished school. Her parents object, however she is firm on her decision and they can only bow their heads in disagreement as they realize that Amber has fallen in love. However, then a new student named Emma catches Troy’s eye and he begins to feel as though he wants more than Amber. So Troy plans to drop Amber so that he can date Emma, and he does it on a day in which Amber plans to tell him that she might be pregnant. “I have something to tell you;” tells Troy as he leans back in his car-seat. “What is it?” asks Amber with a smile. “I don’t want to date you any more;” he tells her. “There’s someone else I want to know;” he adds. “Someone amazing;” he mutters before he looks to the curb where Emma stands waiting for him to tell her she can slip into his car for a date. Amber looks across and sees Emma. “Oh, that’s great;” she mutters in deflate. “But we can still be friends;” tells Troy as he offers Amber his hand. “Oh sure friends;” she mutters as she shakes his hand briefly before slipping out of the car. Troy waves to Emma and she races to slip inside the car as Amber moves to a nearby bench to sit. Amber feels sorry for herself and she hopes that she is not pregnant as she mills over the idea that she might have to apologize to her parents for changing her college plans. “And I might be pregnant;” she mutters as she feels a dark halo loom over her brow. “Oh, I am such a fool!” she groans before she hangs her head to block out the world and the sun with it. Amber hangs out at the mall until sun-down and then she walks home. On the way she meets some drunk youths and they whistle as she walks their way. Amber feels her heart-beat hard as she walks past them as one bothers to jeer. “Nice jumper;” he mutters. “I’d like to take if off;” he adds before laughing. Amber feels ice-cold inside of her skin and it makes her skin tingle. “Want a drink?” asks the youth. “No thankyou;” mutters Amber before she moves to rush past. Another one stands in her way. “What’s wrong with a drink?” he mutters. Amber feels her gulp catch her gasp as she rushes past to get further away. Two months later Troy gets hit with the truth – he has been enjoying Emma’s company and he has gotten her pregnant! Troy feels bad, he feels sore, he feels as though he has been lying the whole time over his attraction for her, and he feels sick. “So, what do you want to do now that I am pregnant?” asks Emma. “Nothing;” mutters Troy. “Well don’t you want to marry me?” asks Emma. “I can live with you in your home, or you in mine, until we can afford our own place;” she sings. Troy drinks a drink and then he looks away. “I’m sorry I didn’t make any plans, I just thought we were having some fun;” he mutters as he feels a black tie strangle him to tell him he has ruined his life. “We have to be married;” tells Emma. “You think so?” asks Troy. “Yes, we have to!” tells Emma. “I have to think;” mutters Troy. “If you don’t do it, then I will hate you forever;” tells Emma. Troy looks to Emma – he sees someone he really enjoys and he feels his surprise turn into love. “I’m less annoyed and more in love when I look at you;” he mutters. “I think any person would love to marry you – including me;” Emma smiles. “Great!” she cheers. “Buy me a ring and I’ll tell my parents!” Troy turns away; he rummages into his pocket and finds a ring he had once brought for Amber. “I have one;” he mutters before he turns to Emma. “I brought it when I thought I had fallen in love, I just hadn’t wanted to use it until now;” he mutters. Emma snatches the ring and puts it on her finger. “It fits!” she cries before she gives Troy a hug. “You and me we’re going to have a great life together;” she mutters. “A great life!” cheers Troy before he narrows his eyes. He had wanted to call Amber that morning to ask if she could see him, but now he thinks that he can cross her name out of his phone book and move on with his life. At school Troy looks at Amber who is fighting with Jack who has stolen one of her pom-poms. “You’ve been kicked off the team!” he tells her. “You don’t need this;” Amber narrows her eyes before she throws the other one at Jack. “It’s a waste of time Amber. You know it;” he adds as Amber walks away. Troy glares at Amber as she picks up her bag, and then he approaches her. “Ugly sick jerk!” gasps Amber as she moves to walk past Troy. “Hey;” mutters Troy as she nears. “Hi;” mutters Amber as she stops in her steps. “I have something I want to tell you;” mutters Troy. Amber stares. “I’m getting married;” he tells her. “To Emma, my girlfriend;” “Great for you;” tells Amber as she raises her brows. “I’m going to college;” she adds. “I told my parents I would and so that is what I am going to be doing;” Troy smiles. “So we’re both set;” he tells her. “Yes;” tells Amber as she shrugs. “No bad feelings then?” asks Troy. “None;” tells Amber as she shrugs. “I could have chosen you;” tells Troy after a moment. “I wanted to, but it didn’t work out;” he adds. Amber shrugs. “Well it’s great you’ve chosen someone;” she tells him. “I wanted it to be you;” tells Troy. Amber catches her breath. “But I got Emma pregnant;” tells Troy. Amber shrugs. “Well good luck;” she smiles before she walks away. Troy gets drunk with his friends after school. They sit by the beach drinking, and late at night Troy heads into the water to go for a swim. He sinks under the water and does not resurface. His friends yell to get him to return to the beach, but he has gone. So the friends call for help, but getting none one of the friends brave to dive into the water. They find Troy under the waves, and they drag him out of the water. Troy coughs. “Are you alive?” asks Adam. “Yes I am, thanks;” mutters Troy. “I don’t know what I was doing;” “Partying!” tells Adam before he invites Troy to a drink. Amber looks at her family and she reads the acceptance letter. Her parents cheer that she has gotten into college, but she can only smile. With Troy on the way to being married she feels cheated – she wants to be married too, and him not marrying her makes her feel like she has lost someone special. Amber shrugs. “I’m so happy, I can’t wait;” she tells her parents before she walks to her bedroom. Inside Amber drops her smile – she feels sad, and what she can’t wait for is to find what can make her happy again.

Vacation In The Woods

It’s vacation time, a trip to the woods, and I can see why I don’t want to go; it’s the packing, it’s the travelling - all the things which make life hard. I want to leave my suitcase alone as soon as I open it. “Getting ready for camp?” asks George as he pokes his head around my door. “Sure;” I reply as my heart hammers. For some reason George has been spooking me out by showing up when I think I will be alone. It annoys me; it creeps me; I want to scream! George laughs at me, and I know he has gained some amusement from spooking me. I grow moody, and with a frown on my face I throw an assorted array of clothes into the suitcase and then slam it down shut. “There! All packed!” declare. The sun peaks at twelve and in hot sweltering conditions we drive. The car trip is long and stressful, and brother Pete cannot stop himself from flatulating while we’re crammed in the back seat together. “Oh gross!” declares Ashley. “Get lost sis!” tells Pete. “Don’t tell Ashley what to do!” I declare. “Thanks Bev!” tells Ashley with a smile. Eve who is sitting at the front opens the back window with the central control button, and she scolds. “No more farting!” she tells us. “It was Pete!” tells Ashley. “It was Bev!” tells Pete. “It was Pete!” says I. “I don’t care who it was, stop it!” tells Eve. The wind blowing through the window clears out the smell, and we can breathe again. The car turns quiet, and no talking is heard when George turns on the radio as the car races for the mountains. It is dark when we stop outside the cabin. We get out of the car, take our luggage inside, and inside were choose our beds. Finally, we share our first meal - cold meat pies brought from the petrol station; and after having had consumed the pies we go to bed. In the morning Ashley and I decide to go for a morning walk - the air is cool, the sun is warm, and the walk is pleasant, as Ashley and I chatter about the world’s most normal subject – boys. “You with a guy yet?” asks Ashley. “No;” says I. “Are you?” I inquire. “No;” tells Ashley. “I just thought I saw you hanging with Chad Dunken the other day;” she nudges. I shake my head. “No, he was just asking if I knew where to buy stickers;” I confess. “Oh, so he was hitting on you!” smiles Ashley as she taps a notice board inside of her mind. One more step and Ashley drops into a pit! It is a booby trap set for animals, and it has captured her. “Are you hurt?” I ask. “No!” whines Ashley. “But I need a rope to get me out! Go find one!” she tells. “Okay!” I agree before I race away. At the cabin George meets me at the front door. He is sipping on coffee enjoying the morning view. “Morning;” he smiles. “Morning;” I gasp as I approach. “I need a rope!” I tell him. “What for?” asks George. “Ashley fell into a pit, and I need to pull her out!” I gasp. George straightens his spine and he pushes his coffee away. “I’d better help!” he says before he collects some rope. I lead George to the pit and I show him where Ashley fell; but she is not in the pit anymore - she is gone! “Where is she?” asks George as he rubs his neck. “I don’t know!” I tell him. George looks at me and he smiles. “Is this a hoax?” he asks as his mind throws a range of accusations. “No! She fell! I swear!” I tell him with a gasp. “I just don’t know where she is!” George looks around and finds nothing but a few shards of broken leaf litter. He thinks it’s a sign, and he scans the ground looking for more evidence of broken leaf-litter. He finds a trail, he follows it, and it leads him to another cabin. “I’m going to check out the windows, you stay here;” he whispers. I nod and I watch as he approaches the cabin. George peers through the windows - he finds empty cabin. A sound alerts him and he dives behind a garbage bin as a male emerges from the back of a truck. “Better collect the keys!” the stranger mutters as he walks by. George narrows his eyes at the truck and he races for it. There he opens the back to discover Ashley tied up inside. George fast grabs her and runs away before the stranger returns. George whispers to me as he finds me knelt amongst bushes. “Come on Bev, we’re going!” he gasps. I run with George who carries Ashley inside of his arms, and in twenty minutes we arrive back at our cabin. “What’s happened?” asks Eve as George bursts through the front door. “Lock the door and close the windows!” tells George. “Someone tried to abduct Ashley, they may be on our trail;” Pete helps Eve lock all the windows and doors, and together we pant sweat as we sit on the lounge trying to grow distracted by the television. At nightfall George declares it safe. “Let’s have dinner!” gasps Eve. “I’ll warm up the left-over pies!” she tells. George grows distracted by the window. He moves to it, and he looks outside - in the distance he sees a car lingering with its head-lights switched on. George grows tense, and he waits for the car to drive towards the cabin; but after a while it just drives away. “Tomorrow we’ll move on to a hotel;” he tells us. “I don’t want to spend my vacation feeling tense;” he adds. We agree; and the next day we throw our luggage into the back of our car and move on.

The Banker

The Banker There is a dryness in the air as the Autumn takes over to chill the world. Ashley looks at the leaves shaken from their tree and she shivers. It is as though a hand has taken them down just to show the world that the change of season has begun. Ashley puts on her jacket and she walks over the leaves as she heads on home. At home there is an argument. Her father Charles has just been given a banking job and her mother Anne is upset. Ashley looks at her sister Linda as she peers from the hallway laughing behind fingers as her parents as they shout. "You said you wanted to be an architect!" Anne yells. "A banker is a good job!" tells Charles "It's a scum job! You'll be known as scum!" screams Anne. "Oh to hell with you!" tells Charles as he turns away. Anne falls on the couch sobbing. "Calm down won't you?" asks Charles. "I can't look at you! I can't look at you!" cries Anne. Ashley slips past Linda who giggles. She likes to see her parents argue - if the world were not perfect their bitter battles would not seem so funny. Linda sucks on a finger and then with a smile she heads out the door to find a friend to talk to. Ashley goes to her room and she puts down her bag. She wishes she had something to do - but with the argument in the lounge she cannot do what she wants which is play the piano and listen to radio. So she opens a book to read. Hours later Anne knocks on the door. "Dinner!" she mutters. Ashley smiles and she eagerly heads for the dinner table. There she meets Charles, Linda, Rose, and Dillon. Dillon shakes his head at Anne who grows pale as she sees him. Anne wants to hit him, she wants to tell him to leave; he is of ripe age to leave so why not she tell him to go if he should feel so much shame? Ashley looks down at her plate as she waits to be served her meal. It is served prompt, but it is cold; it is as though the oven broke half way through the roasting. Ashley grimaces as she lifts the sliced meat and sees a wash of blood. "This is raw!" she complains. "It's rare;" tells Charles. "This is raw!" complains Ashley. "Why cook at all!" she mutters before she stroppily gets to her feet. "You sit down young lady!" tells Charles as a points a finger her way. "Why? It's raw - it's not even a meal!" she argues before she heads for the front door. "I agree, raw;" mutters Dillon quietly as though he has stuffed his shirt with reservation. "Just eat!" argues Anne. Linda picks at the bread rolls which are stale. She then picks at the cheese which is warm. She then picks at the peas which are ice cold. Linda looks to Rose who is dunking her meat inside of her cup of water to get rid of the blood. "To hell with you all!" tells Charles before he stands. "Not even a meal could make you all happy!" he spits before he heads out the front door. Dillon looks to Anne who sobs behind bloodied fingers - she has taken one bite of her meat and its juicy blood dribbles over her lips from behind her teeth. Dillon hangs his head - there are no words to say. "This is the coldest meal ever!" whispers Rose who sucks on a small portion of watered down meat. "What, a banker can't afford an oven?" Anne looks to Rose and then to Linda who has soaked her bread in water. "Go to bed all of you!" she orders. "And pray your father comes home with chips and fish!" The three children all cheer and they race their rooms. Ashley wanders down the street. It is ice-cold and her fingers shiver. She needs mittens on her hands so that she not feel the cold. However she had not prepared herself well enough, and so her skin suffers. "How can the cold become cold when yesterday was so warm?" she asks as she stops by a large town clock. A shadow crawls over her, and Ashley turns around to meet the bright eyes of a handsome stranger. "Hello!" he greets with a hiss. "Hello;" she mutters with a shy smile. "A nice out!" he tells. "Oh yes;" tells Ashley with a grin. "Have you had supper?" he asks. "Oh no;" tells Ashley as she shakes her head. "My name is Peter;" he tells her as he offers her his hand. "I'm Ashley;" tells Ashley as she takes his hand. Peter gives her hand a firm squeeze, firm enough to make her want to pull her hand away - however he holds on firm. "Your fingers are cold, I can feel their chill through my gloves;" he mutters. "Perhaps warm then with a kiss?" he mutters before he bends over to kiss her fingers. Ashley blushes and then she looks behind Peter's stooped head to see Charles racing forward with cane in hand. "My father is coming;" tells Ashley. Peter straightens his spine. "That old trick?!" he gasps before he puts an arm around Ashley to walk her across the street. Charles places a hand on Peter's shoulders. "Excuse me good fellow that is my daughter!" he gasps as he chugs his breath through stitched lungs. Peter turns to face Charles who gives him a narrowed stare. "Good god!" he mutters off the top of his startle. "Best not to leave her to run around after nightfall!" Charles brushes past Peter and takes Ashley's hand. He rushes her away with an arm wrapped around her as Peter laughs behind them. Ashley smiles at Charles who looks as though he has eaten a sour apple. She feels his tense as she walks with him, he has not yet let down his arm and usually it is down after a block of walking. "I think we're far enough away;" she tells Charles who is off in his own world. "It's not that;" mutters Charles as he narrows his eyes. "Just wonder who he was;" he adds as he blinks away a thought. "He seemed nice;" tells Ashley. "No, there was eccentricities all over his personality;" tells Charles as he winces. "Men like him are mad;" "Mad?" asked Ashley. "It's something about icon and idiocy that's gotten to them;" he mutters. "The world of the world of people;" he adds before he turns away. "I'm sorry, your mother has tested me tonight and I am too tired to think;" he tells her. "Who is she to declare me low just because I wish to be a banker!" he argues. "And now I almost lose you too;" he mutters as he sucks in a breath. "One block apart and you would have vanished;" Ashley feels a silly sensation inside of her belly. She feels alarmed all of a sudden - was Peter really that kind of a person? One to take you away so that you never return? "I feel foolish too;" tells Ashley. "I just couldn't stand a stale dinner - none would have been more polite;" "I'm sorry about dinner;" tells Charles. "I should have cooked it myself;" he mutters. "Anne can never do anything right once her mind is set on it;" he adds. "You should have been given an apology, I should have cooked it some more;" he mutters. "I am sorry;" Ashley feels a chill and she looks over her shoulder. There is fog all around them and it makes the world colder. "I think I would like to go home!" tells Ashley. "I think I should go home too;" sighs Charles. "We should both go home;" he adds. "It's better in front of a warm fire then out here in the cold;" The next day Anne tells Ashley to visit her father's work and get him to give her money. Ashley nods her head as she is given an address. Ashley leaves, and she walks along rows of trees before she reaches the right street on which sits her father's bank. "I'm here to see Charles Winter;" she tells the teller. "He works here;" "Oh yes, come with me!" she is urged. Soon Ashley is taken to a room where there are desks with lamps. Behind one them is Charles. He looks up and he stands. "Hello there Ashley;" he smiles. "Hello;" tells Ashley. "Mother said that she would like you to give us money;" Charles pulls a face before he takes out his wallet. "Here, thirty dollars;" he mutters as he offers it to Ashley. "Thank-you!" smiles Ashley before she pockets the money. The owner of the bank Malcome Chadsworth looks over Charles's shoulder and he smiles at Ashley who shivers as she sees him. "Who is this Charles?" asks Malcome. "Oh my daughter Ashley;" tells Charles as he smiles. "Just delivering a message;" "That is very nice; what a pretty face;" tells Malcome as he glares. "You shouldn't leave her to run around alone;" he mutters. Charles shivers as he remembers Peter from the night before. "Best not to leave her to run around after nightfall!" he mutters before he laughs a haunting laugh. Charles looks to Malcome and he thinks he sees the same kind of smile Peter had given; he almost wishes to offer a punch to protect Ashley. However he smiles off his bitter as Malcome declares Ashley has nice hair. Charles agrees, and then he tells Ashley to leave. That night Charles comes home with a heavy heart. His enthuse for the banking job has slackened since Malcome told him that he would like to see Ashley again. Charles wanders to the children's room and he sees Ashley playing with Linda and Rose. They play a silly board-game which he had played when he had been young. Charles wishes for a smoke as he glares at Ashley. For a second he wonders if his other children would prove to be just as charming, however he pushes the idea away as he raises his brow. He can feel hot liquor burning in the back of his throat, he has been drinking with Malcome and he has been told to give him his daughter for an afternoon. "I would like to see her;" tells Malcome. "She looks like a fine young woman;" he adds. "Perhaps fine company;" Charles had gulped down his drink as he listened with half an ear. He blames himself. He should have warned Anne to not send the children to work - but he didn't know it would bring a fire hotter then his temper. "We have a rule here - bankers are bankers, and everyone else is small;" tells Malcome. Charles laughs a bitter laugh so cold all of his children turn their heads to see him. Charles raises his brows - he walks in a coat that cost eleven hundred dollars, and it makes him feel like a banker. It's what he wants to be - one of them. But to hurt his own children... he scratches a feeling inside of his head. "Afternoon;" he mutters. Rose smiles, Linda rolls her eyes, and Ashley rolls dice - they have already forgotten him. So the next day Charles takes Ashley's hand. He feels weak, like he has drunk off milk. "I would like to take you to the bank today;" he tells her through cold lips. "Perhaps make a day of it;" Ashley shrugs. "Okay;" she mutters. Charles nods. He then walks her out of the house towards the bank one feet made of lead. The Autumn leaves fall each step of the way, and slaps Charles in the face. He pries them off his face, off his jacket, and throws them to the ground. No Autumn can keep him from the bank, no change will change his mind. At the bank Charles leads Ashley to Malcome's office. He sits her in a chair, and Malcome smiles at her with dimples which makes him look charming. Ashley talks to Malcome as he asks her questions and Charles stands idly by, glaring at her as though she is a crystal vase he has just sold. The conversation lasts forever, and at the end Ashley is given a drink. It is cider which has been laced with a drug. She drinks it, and then with warmth on her face she turns to Charles who has grown weak and pale. "It is the draft that makes you feel so ill?" she scoffs. Malcome laughs, Charles sneers through clenched teeth, and Ashley smiles at her own joke. "What do you know of it?" asks Charles inside of his mind as giggles bounce through Ashley's throat. Later that night Ashley returns home alone. Charles was wanted at the bank, and so she has walked home without him. There is warmth in her head which makes her feel dizzy, and she only just makes it through the front door before she faints. Anne gets Dillon to carry Ashley to her bed, and then she makes hot tea which she sips on as the rain starts to pat against the windows. Hours pass, and after the stroke of midnight Charles enters the house looking pale and wane. "What's the matter?" asks Anne. "Does the world have a cold?" "It's a cold day;" tells Charles. "And I feel like just going to bed;" he whispers. That night Charles can't sleep. He tosses and he turns, and then at five am he wakes. After waking he showers and eat a meal, before visiting the children s room. All are asleep, and he feels sweat build on his brow. He wishes he could hold them, kiss them, them them the world will be fine; but he walks away from them - he cannot comfort them. At the bank Malcome looks to Charles who has a vast many figures inside of his hand. "It looks like an error;" tells Charles. "Then rub it away;" tells Malcome before he offers Charles a small bag of coins. Charles nods. He is being offered a bribe and he takes the money. He wants to be a good banker and so he cancels the lost figures as he moves to play the banking game. He is helping Malcome be a crook, but it so that he can gain. He lets his conscience figure out how to feel. That night Charles and Anne argue. "Look at this the banker home late from his work!" she declares as he steps into the house. "Look at this the banker with his shoes wet with rain!" "You're right - I should have a car;" tells Charles. "I am sorry I wronged you all;" he mutters before he leaves to retire to the study. "Who can afford a car?" asks Rose. "Father we are not really getting a car are we?" asks Dillon with interest. "Please leave me alone!" gasps Charles. "Leave me be;" he adds. Dillon sighs and he turns away. Rose smiles as she points to Charles and whispers. Linda and Ashley listen to Rose and Anne bites her fingers. It is another foul afternoon, but she feels a flutter as she thinks that they might be lucky enough to buy a car. The next day Charles comes home with a car. Dillon races out to inspect, and he jumps inside the vehicle to take a look at it. Anne smiles as she clutches her chest, and the other siblings chatter at an alarming rate. "Oh goodness father!" they gush. "How proud we are!" "Goodness me!" tells Dillon before he takes a out a pocket knife to turn the key slot and make the car alive. The car backs down the street, and with Dillon holding onto the dashboard the car crashes into a tree. "Dillon!" gasps Charles. "How did you do that without a key!" he asks before he races to pluck Dillon out of the car. That night Charles beats Dillon. Rose shivers as she hears one smack after another, and Ashley and Linda hold each other. The beating lasts for so long that Anne calls the police who rushes to save Dillon from further attack. Charles is escorted to prison. He spends a night in jail as his car is taken away to a pound for safe-keeping until Charles can pay the fee to release it from its impound. During that time Anne moves Dillon to her parents house where he is to stay until he can get a job and live on his own. Charles comes home with bruises on his back and wrists. He has been chained and beaten, but he is still strong. He looks at his three girls and at Anne who shivers as he walks through the front door. They have eaten more then half their dinner, and his is cold. "Can't wait to eat with me?" he asks Anne. Anne shakes her head. "It is barely six pm;" tells Charles. "I am here on time;" Rose smiles over her buttered bread. "Mother thought an early dinner..." she tells. "Rose bite your tongue!" tells Anne as she stands. "We didn't want to eat with you;" she tells Charles. "You are not worthy of a meal with the family;" Charles raises a brow. He then sits himself down and he begins to dig in. He eats with greed and in his haste some gravy spits onto his shirt, and all the table gasps. Rose passes Charles a napkin as he glares at the smudge of brown on his shirt-front. He laughs a bitter laugh. "Teach me to eat too quickly;" he mutters before he pushes his dinner plate away. "Where's Dillon?" he asks. "At mothers;" tells Anne with a grimace. "To stay?" asks Charles. "Yes;" tells Anne. "Good;" tells Charles. "Rose you be mindful that you will be needed to be married or work in the mills after the summer;" he tells her. "I am mindful;" mutters Rose. "In fact I met a nice fellow already - he is smart and good looking; I met him by the pond; we may be married;" "Good;" tells Charles. "When you wish for us to meet call a dinner;" he tells her. "Yes father;" mutters Rose. Charles stands and leaves the table to wash his clothes. That night Charles walks into the children's room and he finds Ashley's bed. He walks to her bed and he bends over it. He looks at her face in the moon-light and he touches her cheek. Ashley stirs, then slowly she wakes. She gasps as she sees a dark figure looming over her scaring her with its shadow. Charles covers her mouth with his fingers. "It's just me;" he whispers. Ashley feels her alarm calm down and she carefully pries his fingers away from her lips. "What is it?" she asks in the dim. "I would like you to come to work with me tomorrow at seven am;" tells Charles. "It will be most advantageous;" he mutters. "For me;" he adds. "Of course;" tells Ashley as she feels a frown form on her face. "But why?" "I can't tell you;" tells Charles as he plays with a piece of her hair. "But you can have tea once there;" he adds. Ashley nods before she turns away from Charles. "Best leave me to sleep and wake me when it's early;" she tells him. Charles touches her shoulder. He gives it a squeeze. He wishes he could tell her, but he can't - his words are sealed, and so he nibbles on them. Ashley feels a pain in her shoulder and she squirms inside of her mind. Charles can't let go - it takes him many minutes to move and when he does move it is with a heavy breath. Ashley shivers. She has been fed a warning and as soon as Charles has left she gets up to dress. She does not want to be in her room when Charles comes to fetch her and so she takes her shoes and she hurries out of the house. Ashley stands at the clock where she met Peter many days before. She wishes he were there now; she might feel as though he can take her somewhere safe. Ashley turns away from the clock and she sits herself down on a park bench. It takes hours for the sun to rise and when it does it steams all the ice-cold fog away. Ashley tired wanders towards her house - it is past seven am and her father should have left for work. However when she enters the house he catches her. "Where have you been?" he asks. "I couldn't sleep and so I went for a walk. I hadn't gone long, it must still be early;" "It's after eight!" tells Charles before he smacks her once across the face. "Are you testing me so early?" he whispers. Ashley sobs as she then squirms to get away as Charles moves to grab her. "Mother!" gasps Ashley but Charles lifts her up and drags her out the front door. Charles carries Ashley to work with her fighting him all the way. He hits her three times and when at work he drags her into the back room which has nothing but a table that has liquor placed on it. Charles leaves Ashley alone and he locks the door to ensure that she can't leave. Ashley bites on her fingers and she drinks a little of the liquor. She doesn't enjoy it much, but she drinks to warm herself and calm herself. Then the door opens and Charles comes in with a team of bankers and he introduces her. Ashley raises her cup as they close the door. "This is a fine day isn't it?" she asks in a bitter tone. There are no laughs. The world turns hard and serious as Ashley is attacked by the cluster of men. Ashley feels her head. She feels she has died and woken up from a dead dream, but she has only been asleep after having had fainted. She feels Charles lift her up and carry her out of the bank. She feels undone, broken, and she holds onto him as though he is a horse to hold onto to be taken away. Charles is swift as a hare to get home, and when home he drops her on some carpet. She has been beaten, carved into with pen knives, and her skin shows cuts and bruises. "What's gong on?" asks Anne. Charles looks over his shoulder as his body shadows Ashley. "Best leave us;" he mutters. "Do not come in;" "What is it Charles?" asks Anne as she steps closer. "Leave!" warns Charles. "Or i'll beat her!" he adds. Anne cringes and then she moves away. She leaves Ashley alone and Charles picks up some medicine to help heal her cut and bruised skin. "It's a game they play;" he tells her. "These bruises will just go away;" Ashley narrows her eyes as she remembers the men teasing her, pinching her, hitting her. She felt as though they were all foul and she attempted to battle them as she swiped her arms to and fro. She was hit so hard and then mocked again, like they had just drunk a dictionary of foul words. "That's a very foul game;" tells Ashley as he looks to Charles and sees a green glimmer which punches her as he smiles over his manners to laugh with the rest of them in that dark room. "Broth of hag!" he adds as though it is his turn. Then all the voices chime and Ashley falls down with faint as she cries harder then ever. "I don't want to see you;" see tells him. "Ever!" "It was just a game;" tells Charles. "A harmless little game;" he adds. Ashley wipes a tear from her eye, and then she turns her head away as Charles cleans her skin the medicine. The next day Ashley races out of the house. Charles had wanted to take her to work, but she had screamed and bitten him to make him let go of her. She runs as fast as she can, and when in town she hides behind a garbage bin. Charles passes her, he doesn't see her hiding, and so she grows comfort as she stays hidden behind that bin. Ashley then falls asleep, and when she wakes it is night. Ashley goes for a walk. She meets the clock and a stranger asks her the time. "It is ten pm;" she tells them. "Shouldn't you be at home?" they ask. "Can you take me to one?" she asks in quick retort. "No, I am married;" tells the stranger before he leaves her alone. Ashley feels sour. She knows it is dangerous to stay outside, but she doesn't feel like gong home. So she stays by the clock where she feels safe, and she counts the hours. By morning Ashley is asleep and she is picked up by a passer-by. She is taken to the bank where she is woken by the sound of a bell. Ashley looks and she sees Malcome who smiles at her. "Were you running away from your father?" he asks her. "Yes;" mutters Ashley as she sneers. Malcome had called her 'candy cane' and 'snow cone'; she feels hurt still by the harsh pinch he had given her cheek. "He will be here soon;" tells Malcome. "Then you be good and stay at home;" he warns her. "Or you be sorry;" Ashley nods. She feels so sad she wishes to cry, and so she does cry. That night Charles comes home with Ashley hanging off his arm. She rushes to her room and he rushes to fetch a drink. "You stay in your room!" he warns Ashley. Anne shakes her head. "That bankers job is ruining us!" she tells Charles. "It's hurting us, your family;" Charles turns away. "You should not work there;" she tells him. "Or I'll leave;" Charles laughs a bitter laugh. "Leave Ashley behind, she's giving me a good image;" he drawls before he leaves Anne to sob. Charles looks at the world outside - it is wet with dew and fog clouds the window to stop him from staring outside. He feels the fog covering his guilt as he drinks some more drink. He wishes to not feel guilty and so he stares at his cuffs and straightens his spine. He cannot be anything else, he is too deep; he will grow to be a banker, and he will not feel sorry for himself or anyone else. It's what he is now.

A Job At The Bank

There is a dryness in the air as the Autumn takes over to chill the world. Ashley looks at the leaves shaken from their tree falling, and she shivers. It is as though a hand has taken them down just to show the world that the change of season is here. Ashley puts on her jacket and she walks over the leaves as she heads on home. At home there is an argument. Her father Charles has just been given a banking job and her mother Anne is upset. Ashley looks at Linda as she peers from the hallways laughing behind fingers as her parents shout. "You said you wanted to be an architect!" he mother yells. "A banker is a good job!" tells Charles "It's a scum job! You'll be known as scum!" screams Anne. "Oh to hell with you!" tells Charles as he turns away. Anne falls on the couch sobbing. "Calm down won't you?" asks Charles. "I can't look at you! I can't look at you!" cries Anne. Ashley slips past Linda who giggles. She likes to see them argue - if the world were not perfect their bitter battles would not seem so funny. Linda sucks on a finger, and then with a smile she heads out the door to find a friend to talk to. Ashley goes to her room and she puts down her bag. She wishes she had something to do - but with the argument in the lounge she cannot do what she wants which is play the piano and listen to the radio. So she opens a book to read. Hours later Anne knocks on her door. "Dinner!" she mutters. Ashley smiles and she eagerly heads for the dinner table. There she meets Charles, Linda, Rose, and Dillon. Dillon shakes his head at Anne who grows pale as she sees him. She wants to hit him, she wants to tell him to leave; he is of ripe age to leave so why not she tell him to go if he should feel so much shame. Ashley looks down at her plate, and she waits to be served her meal. It is served prompt, but it is cold; it is as though the oven broke half way through the roasting. Ashley grimaces as she lifts the sliced meat and sees a wash of blood. "This is raw!" she complains. "It's rare;" tells Charles. "This is raw;" complains Ashley. "Why cook at all!" she mutters before she stroppily gets to her feet. "You sit down young lady!" tells Charles as a points a finger her way. "Why? It's raw - it's not even a meal!" she argues before she heads for the front door. "I agree raw;" mutters Dillon quietly as though he has stuffed his shirt with reservation. 'Just eat!" argues Anne. Linda picks at the bread rolls which are stale. She then picks at the cheese which is warm. She then picks at the peas which are ice cold. Linda looks to Rose who is dunking her meat inside of her cup of water to get rid of the blood. "To hell with you all!" tells Charles before he stands. "Not even a meal could make you all happy!" he spits before he heads out the front door. Dillon looks to Anne who sobs behind bloodied fingers - she has taken one bite of her meat and its juicy blood dribbles over her lips from behind her teeth. Dillon hangs his head - there are no words to say. "This is the coldest meal ever!" whispers Rose who sucks on a small portion of watered down meat. "What a banker can't afford an oven?" Anne looks to Rose and then to Ashley who has soaked her bread in water. "Go to bed all of you!" she orders. "And pray your father comes home with chips and fish!" The three children all cheer and they race their rooms. Ashley wanders down the street. It is ice-cold and her fingers shiver. She needs mittens on her hands so that she not feel the cold. However she had not prepared herself well enough, and so her skin suffers. "How can the cold become cold when yesterday was so warm?" she asks as she stops by a large town clock. A shadow crawls over her, and Ashley turns around to meet the bright eyes of a handsome stranger. "Hello!" he greets with a hiss. "Hello;" she mutters with a shy smile. "A nice out!" he tells. "Oh yes;" tells Ashley with a grin. "Have you had supper?" he asks. "Oh no;" tells Ashley as she shakes her head. "My name is Peter;" he tells her as he offers her his hand. "i'm Ashley;" tells Ashley as she takes his hand. He gives her hand a firm squeeze, firm enough to make her want to pull her hand away - however he holds on firm. "Your fingers are cold, I can feel their chill through my gloves;" he mutters. "Perhaps warm then with a kiss?" he mutters before he bends over to kiss her fingers. Ashley blushes and then she looks behind Peter's stooped head where Charles races with cane in hand. "My father is coming;" tells Ashley. Peter straightens his spine. "That old trick?!" he gasps before he puts an arm around Ashley to walk her across the street. Charles places a hand on Peter's shoulders. "Excuse me good fellow that is my daughter!" he gasps as he chugs his breath through stitched lungs. Peter turns to face Charles who gives him a narrowed stare. "Good god!" he mutters off the top of his startle. "Best not to leave her to run around after nightfall!" Charles bushes past Peter and takes Ashley's hand. He rushes her away with an arm wrapped around her as Peter laughs behind them. Ashley smiles at Charles who looks as though he has eaten a sour apple. She feels his tense as she walks with him, he has not yet let down his arm and usually it is down after a block of walking. "I think we're far enough away;" she tells Charles who is off in his own world. "It's not that;" mutters Charles as he narrows his eyes. "Just wonder who he was;" he adds as he blinks away a thought. "He seemed nice;" tells Ashley. "No, there was eccentricities all over his personality;" tells Charles as he winces. "They are mad;" "Mad?" asked Ashley. "It's something about icon and idiocy that's gotten to them;" he mutters. "The world of the world people;" he adds before he turns away. "I'm sorry, your mother has tested me tonight and I am too tired to think;" he tells her. "Who is she to declare me low just because I wish to be a banker!" he argues. "And now I almost lose you too;" he mutters as he sucks in a breath. "One block apart and you would have vanished;" Ashley feels a silly sensation inside of her belly. She feels alarmed all of a sudden - was Peter really that kind of a person? One to take you away so that you never return? "I feel foolish too;" tells Ashley. "I just couldn't stand a stale dinner - none would have been more polite;" "I'm sorry about dinner;" tells Charles. "I should have cooked it myself;" he mutters. "Anne can never do anything right once her mind is set on it;" he adds. "You should have been given an apology, I should have cooked it some more;" he mutters. "I am sorry;" Ashley feels a chill and she looks over her shoulder. There is fog all around them and it is turning colder. "I think I would like to go home!" tells Ashley. "I think I should go home too;" sighs Charles. "We should both go home;" he adds. "It's better in front of a warm fire then out here in the cold;" The next day Anne tells Ashley to visit her father's work and get him to give her money. Ashley nods her head as she is given an address. Ashley leaves, and she walks along rows of trees before she reaches the right street on which sits her father's bank. "I'm here to see Charles Winter;" she tells. "He works here;" "Oh yes, come with me!" she is urged. Soon Ashley is taken to a room where there are desks with lamps. Behind one them is Charles. He looks up and he stands. "Hello there Ashley;" he smiles. "Hello;" tells Ashley. "Mother said that she would like you to give us money;" Charles pulls a face before he takes out his wallet. "Here, thirty dollars;" he mutters as he offers it to Ashley. "Thankyou!" smiles Ashley before she pockets the money. The owner of the bank Malcome Chadsworth looks over Charles's shoulder and he smiles at Ashley who shivers as she sees him. "Who is this Charles?" asks Malcome. "Oh my daughter Ashley;" tells Charles as he smiles. "Just delivering a message;" "That is very nice; what a pretty face;" tells Malcome as he glares. "You shouldn't leave her to run around alone;" he mutters. Charles shivers as he remembers Peter from the night before. "Best not to leave her to run around after nightfall!" he mutters before he laughs a haunting laugh. Charles looks to Malcome and he thinks he sees the same kind of smile Peter had given, and he almost wishes to offer a punch to protect Ashley. However he smiles off his bitter as Malcome declares Ashley has nice hair. Charles agrees, and then he tells Ashley to leave. That night Charles comes home with a heavy heart. His enthuse for the banking job has slackened since Malcome told him that he would like to see Ashley again. Charles wanders to the childrens room and he sees Ashley playing with Linda and Rose. They play a silly board-game which he had played when he had been young. Charles wishes for a smoke as he glares at Ashley. For a second he wonders if his other children would prove to be just as charming, however he pushes the idea away as he raises his brow. He can feel hot liquor burning in the back of his throat, he has been drinking with Malcome and he has been told to give her his daughter for an afternoon. "I would like to see her;" tells Malcome. "She looks like a fine young woman;" he adds. "Perhaps fine company;" Charles gulped down his drink as he listened with half an ear. He blames himself. He should have warned Anne to not send the children to work - but he didn't know it would bring a fire hotter then his temper. "We have a rule here - bankers are bankers, and everyone else is small;" tells Malcome. Charles laughs a bitter laugh so cold all of his children turn their heads to see him. Charles raises his brows - he walks in a coat that cost eleven hundred dollars, and it makes him feel like a banker. It's what he wants to be - one of them. But to hurt his own children, he scratches a feeling inside of his head. "Afternoon;" he mutters. Rose smiles, Linda rolls her eyes, and Ashley rolls dice - they have already forgotten him. So the next day Charles takes Ashley's hand. He feels weak, like he has drunk off milk. "I would like to take you to the bank today;" he tells her through cold lips. "Perhaps make a day of it;" Ashley shrugs. "Okay;" she mutters. Charles nods. He then walks her out of the house towards the bank one feet made of lead. At the bank Charles leads Ashley to Malcome's office. He sits her in a chair, and Malcome's smiles at her with dimples which makes him look charming. Ashley talks to Malcome as he asks her questions as Charles stands idly by, glaring at her as though she is a crystal vase he has just sold. The conversation lasts forever, and at the end Ashley is given a drink. It is cider which has been laced with a drug. She drinks it, and then with warmth on her face she turns to Charles who has grown weak and pale. "It is the draft that makes you feel so ill?" he scoffs. Malcome laughs, Charles sneers through clenched teeth, and Ashley smiles. "What do you know of it?" asks Charles inside of his mind as giggles bounce through Ashley's throat. Later that night Ashley returns home alone. Charles was wanted at the bank, and so she walked home. There is warmth in her head which makes her feel dizzy, and she only just makes it through the front door before she faints. Anne gets Dillon to carry Ashley to her bed, and then she makes hot tea which she sips on as the rain starts to pat against the windows. Hours pass, and after the stroke of midnight Charles enters the house looking pale and wane. "What's the matter?" asks Anne. "Does the world have a cold?" "It's a cold day;" tells Charles. "And I feel like just going to bed;" he whispers. That night Charles can't sleep. He tosses and he turns, and then at five am he wakes. After waking he showers, and eat a meal, before visiting the childrens room. All are asleep, and he feel sweat build on his brow. He wishes he could hold, kiss them, them them the world would be fine; but he walks away from them - he cannot comfort them. At the bank Malcome looks to Charles who has a vast many figures inside of his hand. "It looks like an error;" tells Charles. "Then rub it away;" tells Malcome before he offers Charles a small bag of coins. Charles nods. He is being offered a bribe and he takes the money. He wants to be a good banker and so he cancels the lost figures as he moves to play the banking game. He is helping Malcome be a crook, but it so that he can gain. He lets his conscience figure out how to feel. That night Charles and Anne argue. "Look at this the banker home late from his work!" she declares as he steps into the house. "Look at this the banker with his shoes wet with rain!" "You're right - I should have a car;" tells Charles. "I am sorry I wronged you all;" he mutters before he leaves to retire in the study. "Who can afford a car?" asks Rose. "Father we are not really getting a car are we?" asks Dillon with interest. "Please leave me alone!" gasps Charles. "Leave me be;" he adds. Dillon sighs and he turns away. Rose smiles as she points to Charles and whispers. Linda and Ashley listen to Rose and Anne bites her fingers. It is another foul afternoon, and she feels a flutter as she thinks that they might be lucky enough to have a car. The next day Charles comes home with a car. Dillon races out to inspect, and he jumps into the vehicle to take a look at it. Anne smiles as she clutches her chest, and the other siblings chatter at an alarming rate. "Oh goodness father!" they gush. "How proud we are!" "Goodness me!" tells Dillon before he takes a knife to turn the key slot. The car backs down the street, and with his holding onto the dashboard it crashes into a tree. "Dillon!" gasps Charles. "How did you do that without a key!" he asks before he races to pluck Dillon out of the car. That night Charles beats Dillon. Rose shivers as she hears one smack after another, and Ashley and Linda hold each other. The beating lasts for so long that Anne calls the police who rushes to save Dillon from further attack. Charles is escorted to prison. He spends a night in jail. During that time Anne moves Dillon to her parents house where he is to stay until he can get a job and live on his own. Charles comes home with bruises on his back and wrists. He has been chained and beaten, but he is still strong. He looks at his three girls and at Anne who shivers as he walks through the front door. They have eaten more then half their dinner, and his is cold. "Can't wait to eat with me?" he asks Anne. Anne shakes her head. "It is barely six pm;" tells Charles. "I am here on time;" Rose smiles over her buttered bread. "Mother thought an early dinner..." she tells. "Rose bite your tongue!" tells Anne as she stands. "We didn't want to eat with you;" she tells Charles. "You are not worthy of a meal with the family;" Charles raises a brow. He then sits himself down and he begins to dig in. He eats with greed. In his haste some gravy spits onto his shirt, and all the table gasps. Rose passes Charles a napkin as he glares at the smudge of brown on his shirt-front. He laughs a bitter laugh. "Teach me to eat too quickly;" he mutters before he pushes his dinner plate away. "Where's Dillon?" he asks. "At mothers;" tells Anne with a grimace. "To stay?" asks Charles. "Yes;" tells Anne. "Good;" tells Charles. "Rose you be mindful that you will be needed to be married or work in the mills;" he tells her. "i am mindful" mutters Rose. "In fact I met a nice fellow already - he is smart and good looking; I met him by the pond. We may be married;" "Good;" tells Charles. "When you wish for us to meet call a dinner;" he tells her. "Yes father;" mutters Rose. Charles stands. He then leaves the table to wash his clothes. That night Charles walks into the childrens room and he finds Ashley's bed. He walks to her bed and he bends over it. He looks at her face in the moon-light and he touches her cheek. Ashley stirs, then slowly she wakes. She gasps as she sees a dark figure over her scaring her with its shadow. Charles covers her mouth with his fingers. "It's just me;" he whispers. Ashley feels her alarm calm down and she carefully pries his fingers away from her lips. "What is it?" she asks in the dim. "I would like you to come to work with me tomorrow at seven am;" tells Charles. "It will be most advantageous;" he mutters. "For me;" he adds. "Of course;" tells Ashley as she feels a frown form on her face. "But why?" "I can't tell you;" tells Charles as he plays with a piece of her hair. "But you can have tea once there;" he adds. Ashley nods. Then she turns away from Charles. "Best leave me to sleep and wake me when it's early;" she tells Charles. Charles touches her shoulder. He gives it a squeeze. He wishes he could tell her, but he can't - his words are sealed, and so he nibbles on them. Ashley feels a pain in her shoulder and she squirms inside of her mind. Charles can't let go, it takes him many minutes to move and when he does move it is with a heavy breath. Ashley shivers. She has been fed a warning and as soon as Charles has left she gets up to dress. She does not want to be in her room when Charles comes to fetch her and so she takes her shoes and she hurries out of the house. Ashley stands at the clock where she met Peter many days before. She wishes he were here now, she might feel as though he can take her somewhere safe. Ashley turns away from the clock, and she sits herself down on a park bench. It takes hours for the sun to rise and when it does it steams all the ice-cold fog away. Ashley tired wanders towards her house - it is past seven am and her father should be gone from the house. However when she enters the house he catches her. "Where have you been?" he asks. "I couldn't sleep and so I went for a walk. I hadn't gone long, it must still be early;" "It's after eight!" tells Charles before he smacks her once across the face. "Are you testing me so early?" he whispers. Ashley sobs, she then squirms as Charles moves to grab her. "Mother!" gasps Ashley but Charles lifts her up and drags her out the front door. Charles carries Ashley to work with her fighting him all the way. He hits her three times and when at work he drags her into the back room which has nothing but a table that has liquor placed on it. Charles leaves Ashley alone and he locks the door. Ashley bites on her fingers and she drinks a little of the liquor. She doesn't enjoy it much, but she drinks to warm herself and calm herself. Then the door opens and Charles comes in with a team of bankers and he introduces her. Ashley raises her cup as they close the door. "This is a fine day isn't it?" she asks in a bitter tone. There are no laughs. The world turns hard and serious as Ashley is attacked by all the cluster of men. Ashley feels her head. She feels she has died and woken up from a dead dream, but she has only been asleep. She feels Charles lift her up and carry her out of the bank. She feels undone, broken, and she holds onto him as though he is a horse to hold onto to be taken away. He is swift as a hare to get home, and when home he drops her on some carpet. She has been beaten, caved in two, and her skin shows bruises. "What's gong on?" asks Anne. Charles looks over his shoulder as his body shadows Ashley. "Best leave us;" he mutters. "Do not come in;" "What is it Charles?" asks Anne as she steps closer. "Leave!" warns Charles. "Or i'll beat her!" he adds. Anne cringes and then she moves away. She leaves Ashley alone and Charles picks up some medicine to help heal her bruised skin. "It's a game they play;" he tells her. "These bruises will just go away;" Ashley narrows her eyes as she remembers the men teasing her, pinching her, hitting her. She felt as though they were all foul and she attempted to battle them as she swiped her arms to and fro. She was hit so hard and then mocked again, like they had just drunk a dictionary of foul words. "That's a very foul game;" tells Ashley as he looks to Charles and sees a green glimmer which punches her as he smiles over his manners to laugh with the rest of them. "Broth of hag!" he adds as though it is his turn. Then all the voices chime and Ashley falls down with faint as she cries harder then ever. "I don't want to see you;" see tells him. "Ever;" "It was just a game;" tells Charles. "A harmless little game;" he adds. Ashley wipes a tear from her eye, and then she turns her head away as Charles cleans her skin the medicine. The next day Ashley races out of the house. Charles had wanted to take her to work, but she had screamed and bitten him to make him let go of her. She runs as fast as she can, and when in town she hides behind a garbage bin. Charles passes her, he doesn't see her hiding, and so she grows comfort as she stays hiding. She then falls asleep, and when she wakes it is night. Ashley goes for a walk. She meets the clock and someone asks her the time. "It's 10 pm;" she tells them. "Shouldn't you be at home?" they ask. "Can you take me to one;" she asks. "No, I am married;" tells the stranger before he leaves her alone. Ashley feels sour. She knows it is dangerous to stay outside, but she doesn't feel like gong home. So she stays by the clock where she feels safe, and she counts the hours. By morning she is asleep and she is picked up by a passer-by. She is taken to the bank where she is woken with the sound of a bell. Ashley looks and she sees Malcome who smiles at her. "Were you running away from your father?" he asks her. "Yes;" mutters Ashley as she sneers. he had called her 'candy cane' and 'snow cone'. She feels hurt still by the pinch he had given her cheek. "He will be here soon;" tells Malcome. "Then you be good and stay at home;" he warns her. "Or you be sorry;" Ashley nods. She feels so sad she wishes to cry, and so she does cry. That night Charles comes home with Ashley hanging off his arm. She rushes to her room and he rushes to fetch a drink. "You stay in your room!" he warns Ashley. Anne shakes her head. "That bankers job is ruining us!" she tells Charles. "It's hurting us, your family;" Charles turns away. "You should not work there;" she tells him. "Or I'll leave;" Charles laughs a bitter laugh. "Leave Ashley behind, she's giving me a good image;" he drawls before he leaves Anne to sob. "

Betrothed And Wed

I look at the flowers and I think that I can't be married. Not to her. She is too lowly, she is too common; but for some reason she is all the rage - or spite my soul I am being set up for murder! I rake my nails against my skin. I feel so lost - why her, why such an abomination, for me? Am I not from gods breast himself? Why her? Why she? I look to all the fellows men, knights, kings, they lean away from her like she is something to fear. So I think to myself - why me? Is it because they wish to make me suffer. When at the table she could hardly lift a smile - the surprise of me being chosen for her slapped her in the face. She may be of some innocence but she knows the words which remain unspoken - I am too good for her, and it makes her nervous to have to curtsy before a king. Oh yes I am going to be a king one day, and a god. But I should not be given the bottom of the plate! Oh spite, you return with a knife in my hand - I should cut her throat and make her go away! But it is her fault that I should be given her as my proposal? No it is not. It is my father's fault, it is my mothers fault, it is their parents fault! There is something faulty that makes the world turn so that she should be put on my lap and be told to sit. Who is she? What is she? Has she any wealth. Okay, so her father may have collected rubies from the eastern world, and that he may have helped to defeat a great enemy, but does that mean that she should be give to me? There are angels and saints sitting at either side, and she leans from them as they to her. It is a fitting picture for one circles by everything that they could hate; and yet there is some love. Who is the saint to smile behind his eyes as I take a hand to my mouth to stifle a scream? What is that saint hiding? Does he know who she is? Why should he smile? Is he amused? Is he weak? Is he mocking? What is the hidden truth that I may yet discover? I cough out a 'yes' as bitter as bark in a cup. I drink that sour ale, and then I think to myself 'why me'? I am bright as the sun, and great as a throne of wealth; why is she being given to me? Have the gods blessed her? Have they blessed me? Is he beautiful? She is spiteful? Will she be able to ward off an enemy with a magic spell? I have to lay down to rest my weary mind. I think of her. She is but an argument on the top of my tongue and I wish to be rid of it. So what if my parents want me to marry her? How about I rush to a pagan temple and marry another - then they will have to accept my pagan marriage and give me a crown made of silver. I rub my head. A crown made of silver hurts the mind until angels singing can be heard through my ears, drilling them with their high pitched sound, and drowning me. It is agony to have a crown made of silver. It is what can make a man crawl to his grave, even if he has been made from God. So I swallow my temper, and I look to my princess, and I tell her I could love no other while feeling empty inside of my heart. And I take her hand, I fall in love, and she falls in love with me, and we make love, and the world turns into our union until the whole kingship is made of it. I rake a hand through my hair as I think about the wars I must face. I must hold her heart in my heart as I fight them, and at the moment my heart is broken and I feel low. I shall march on hard feel and fight with an arm made of rage - so much so that the sword of silver may turn red as my fingers burn. I shall lose. I shall lose every battle if I fight that way. How can I win? The wars are supposed to be fought with love, not hate! I purse my lips as I fight a wave of hate and bitter. How could my parents put this nightmare on my plate. I should be in love and taunting my marriage, not being scared by it. But now that a tear has dribbled from my eye I might tell the truth - I cam scared, and I want to flee from it with my soul! The marriage was a lowly affair. I wore the clothes, but I did not wear my heart. As the jester teased me I looked out of eyes wet with desperation. I just wanted to ignore everyone who set me up to be married to such a lowly woman. I look to her. She is hidden behind a vale of white, and she never looked more lovely. I cannot see her face, and I almost want to think of how nice she might be under that vale of white. But the truth is she is not lovely, and if she didn't have that vale to hide her I may well have struck her then and there to shake her and ask her why we should be together? I am not so impolite as to take my anger out on her however. She is but a young woman who also had no word to say after it was exposed who she should marry. She could be shaking under her skin, I just can't feel it. I think of sour thoughts as I turn away from her - I don't want to look at her and so I keep my eyes on a candle and pray to it. The candle flickers - I am being listened to that is a good sign. The bad sign is that I am being told to wait, and so I stand as still as stone waiting for God to stop the marriage when it is something not even He can halt. So I marry the woman. I marry the disgrace. When I take her to her chamber I sit with her and I talk to her. She smiles, she laughs, she even tells me a small story of her life. Then when all the courtship is done I show her the sun setting on the hills and I tell her that I am in love, and she grows warm. She turns into the sun just as the cold settled over the castle, and I stay warm. It is almost a lovely gift. Holding her I think that the world should be alright, and I get used to holding her, I get used to her smell, I get used to being tainted with someone lower then I. Then I kiss her cheek and I tell her I will always be her Lord, and she begins to relax as though the world is going to be safe. I am told to walk from the castle and into battle. It is my first time since I have been married, and I have my new Queen inside my heart as I take to horse. Men look to me. I feel so weak that I could faint, but as I ride with then I gain strength and my weakness floats off my mind. The weakness was a thought, it was a fear, it was a belief that sharing blood with such a Queen as her would make me weaker still. I being to feel as though the world is going to okay - but then the battle starts, and I fight so hard my fingers break! I leave that battle bloodied, bruised, and tortured. A cut on my leg tells me of a hit, but the many dead tells me that I have won. I return to my bride, my Queen, and I tell her of my battle. She looks to me as though I have returned home a monster, but I tell her my bloody tale and how I gained injury and at the end she wipes tears from her eyes. They are tears of fear, of scared, of joy; they are mingled tears and each one I wish to kiss off her face. Then I give her a gift - a necklace made of obsidian I had made as I napped through a night of camp, and she smiles at me and thanks me with a kiss. I forget my hate for my Queen and grow used to her. We share many moments of intimacy, and then at the end of the day we fear that we have fallen in love. The men and women gather to speak to me, to look at me, to watch me train. I become a hero, a knight, a King before them, and they do grow a fondness for me. I grow used to being this person, this demolished person who wished for someone else, and as the years turn so does my hair. Finally I am asked to fight. I leave my Queen, my three kids, and my kingdom to fight. I fight a new enemy who has risen from the earth to fight me with their claim that they have been made from god. They cut the flowers from my heart as they cut my throat. I ask them to look after my Queen, and they nod. They tell me she shall be looked after and then they leave me to die. At night God reaches to me and mends my wound. Then he breathes in life, and I am able to wander back to my kingdom. But when I get there the whole place lays in waste - the people have been killed, the animals stolen, the fields burned, the wells poisoned. I race inside and I look inside my chamber - my bride is missing, she has been taken, she has been granted a new life as a slave. I sigh. I thank God for a moment as a tear falls from my eye. I am glad she has been taken, I am glad she has been accepted. But then I look to a mound of black that lay in charcoal on the hearth. I walk up to it. I inspect it. My heart grows sour as I see the ashes of a child newly born. It has been burned. It was my soul that was unsuitable. I want to protest - they accepted that bastard woman and not me? But then I sigh. I offered a fine battle and the hearts I killed remain buried in the earth beneath where I had been left to die. It might be my fault that I be left to roast on the hearth. I look away. The sight of my child's body makes me sick, and so I pick up a sword and I run. I am in God's hands now, he will tell me what I am to do!

The Rogue King

The rogue king of Annondale sits on his throne made of blood. He killed to obtain the throne - he thinks he is a god messenger but he is just a person set on war. No one wants to tell him - he is too tall, he is too dark, he wears ash for wars uniform. But he will not listen. Instead he picks a swords and tells all who questions that fight him to lay all tongues still. So all the kingdom grows quiet - they cannot best the best and he knows it. Still out there in the brittle woods there is another traitor on the march. His farm had been turned into rambles because of the rogue king; and so he has taken horse and sword and used all craft of blacksmith to battle the rogue king. He will find him soon. The rogue king asks for more wine and he is given. he is drunk by the time his gates are shattered with a bomb that is thrown from the woods. The rogue king shudders and he moves to see what has caused the interruption. He sees the traitor in the wood, wearing white and gold as though he has been given them by a lord. The rogue king snorts, and he drinks the last of the wine in his cup before he moves to march against his newfound enemy. The rogue king fight the traitor. The battle hard. Then the sky turns red and it stays red for an hour before the sun sinks completely. It is a majestic battle, but in the end one has to be slaughtered. The kings-men prays it is the rogue king, but then shudder when the head of the traitor is cut and put on a flag staff. The sun dies and all hope dies with its light. The world dark, and those who remain alive hang their heads in shame - the rogue king has won.

Sex War

I never knew what it was like - being hurt. More often then not there was a sun in my life, and I thought life was good. I couldn't ever wake and not meet a day without the sun. Life sparkled, and it made me smile. But now I can hardly sleep and every morning I feel melancholy, like there is a weight on my chest and it is not easily lifted. I could try and be happy, but most people who force themselves to be happy hold tears in their eyes, and everyone asks them why they are crying even when their smile is shining bright. I have decided not to be fake, but moody, to make people notice that I am unhappy. Most people do not notice, and so the grey clouds stay and I can hardly feel good about anything. I look in the mirror and I wonder if this is going to be my life? a grim face... A creek on the floor and I am startled. I bite my tongue and bite on the urge to jump out the window. Who is it? What is it? Fears climb up my spine as I think of a monster trying to break through. I scream! But my mouth fails to move and so I cannot be heard. But I hear it inside rather loud - a scream. It is me. i hold my breath as I feel a tense heat hit my head. The door knob turns, and so does my heart as I stare. "Who are you?" I ask as I see a stranger walk inside. "You know me;" he says. I grow faint at the knees I can't hardly guess. But then it comes to me in the dream and I see his face - the image matches the picture on the mantle. "Oh it's you;" I sigh. I turn away - I am disgusted, repulsed; how to make him vanish? He walks up to me and he runs his fingers through my hair. "Stop it!" I snap as I feel a worm crawl through my stomach. A bird raps at the window - it startles me, and I pull away. "It's just a bird;" he mutters. "It's not supposed to be there!" I remark before I move to step further away. "Hey where are you going?" he asks as he pulls me back. I feel a shudder that crawls through my bones - who is he deep inside? I monster? A gorilla? The devil? I can't see him, it's all just a blur of emotions and I look until I see myself screaming; He puts his hand up my skirt. I feel a loss. I am bleeding inside; in the morning I throw up blood and it is because he has touched me down there. It is more then just a dot, or an ache; it is sickness and I feel like I am dying. I turn to him with wet inside my eyes. He smiles at me. He can't even see I am miserable he just sees himself. "Can't you ever see me?" I ask as tears pour down my face. "Yes I can;" he mutters. "You love me;" I shiver. I turn away disgusted. He used to ask me if I loved him. I used to say yes and mean it. The words are lost in a world far away underneath the covers of a memory. It was the couch; the one that sits in the small study at the back. We turned it into a television room during summer vacation so that we could watch television night or day without the sun bothering us. I was smiling at one of the romance movies as he was taking his time to stare at me. He then leaned towards me and asked me if I loved him. I said 'of course' and meant it with my heart jumping high and low. I was in love with him - he was smart, accomplished, good looking; everyone could see he was a really great guy. When he kissed me then and there I almost wanted him to. I tried to love him with his lips over mine, but my guilt pricked me with the tip of an arrow head and I jumped. It was then I tried to push him away, it was then I began to cry. I look away. It is hopeless. He just wants to be closer when I want him further away. "i don't love you any more;" I tell him. He grabs me and looks at me hard. "Why not?" he asks. "I don't like you;" I shrug as large tears roll down my face. I that a wrinkle under his eye? Is that spittle on his lip? Things I overlooked stand out in a manner so disgusting and I just want to be separated from him. "Let me go..." I tell him as his nails rake my skin. "Let me go - I mean it!" I yell. "Don't yell at me!" he tells me firmly. "Never yell at me!" he adds before he slaps me so hard I see a blanket of snow with lights shining bright. I blink. I gulp in a breath. I am already panting and I have just woken up. I wave my arms and touch him - his shirt is open and I feel his hot flesh. I shake my head and I look around - I can't see much but the bed is springing up and down like there's someone jumping on it. But no one is jumping - it is us, we're having sex. "You can't do this!" I whine. He runs fingers over my cheek before he slaps it hard. I almost break my neck and I sob as I lay there with hot tears inside of my eyes. I feel swells and spills where my thighs should be clean, and hours pass and I beg him to stop until my breath is hoarse. I grow thirst like I am sun-baking in the desert, and I need to gulp hard while heat rises off my dry tongue. He stops. Sobbing he grips the blankets hard, and then he cries. I cry too. We then cry together like babies begging for a morsel of food. But we are not hungry, we are empty of love, until it hurts. "Forgive me;" he mutters after a while. I ask inside my mind who is he speaking to? Is it me? It is a school teacher? Is it God? He grabs my face. "Forgive me;" he tells me before he kisses me again. I try to push him away, but he just presses himself onto me as he eases his hunger for sex with hunger for kisses. I kiss him back, we make out, it is almost like love; but hours pass and he is not at work and I not at school. It doesn't matter. For a long while the world stops and we are like real lovers acting out a play where we could almost be real lovers only we are not. It's a romance movie - two people in love, making love, with love inside their heads while worshipping each other. Everything feels good, every touch is divine, every kiss perfect; the world is almost perfect, but then comes the truth with a splash - we were just acting like lovers, we are not in love at all. He pulls away after shivering. Maybe it's the car on the front lawn, maybe it's the radio in the distance, maybe it is the sun sinking in the sky; but something spooks him, and he moves away. "What's the matter?" I asks. "Don't you love me?" He shakes his head, and then he stumbles out the door before fast making his way to the shower. I bask on the bed and I hide. I listen to the shower, then the chatter of voices, and then I smell cooking - the world is functioning again, and I have been forgotten. I wipe my eyes, and when the house is in bed I get up to have a shower. My whole body is sore and I stagger as though I have been hit by a car. "I hate him!" I whisper before I open his bedroom door. He is asleep. he lays on his back and my mum on her side. It is detached, broken, alienated. I want to tell myself to go away but I want to prove a point. So I move to the bed, I open the covers on his side, and I slide over his to fit in-between them both. Then I touch his face, I touch his chest - he breathes in a deep breath and then he wakes. "What is it?" he asks not even looking at me. I feel my heartbeat inside of my fingers as I continue to rub his chest. He laughs then he wipes my hand away as though it is an annoying fly. I crawl my fingers onto his chest again, and he rolls over to face me. "Don't even look at me, I don't love you;" he mutters. I freak. Is he looking at me? I can't tell. He rubs his eyes, then he turns me around. "You want it bitch?" he asks as he gets on top of me. I can't even talk. He grabs the top of the bed and rapes me like I am less then his lover. He grunts as all my blood vessels spark. I scream! The lights are turned on, and I grow red faced as two other people scream. "get it out!" my mum screams. "I can't!" he shouts before he pulls my hair. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he asks me. I can't even talk as hot tears roll down my face. "It was a mistake!" my mum reassures me. "More then a mistake!" he gasps before he finishes me off with another push. "Get off!" he yells before he separates himself from me. I groan out my next breath as a weak tear dribbles out from my eye, then red dribbles down my thighs like I have just been broken. "You think you're smart don't you!" he growls yanking at my hair. My mother pulls him away. "A mistake!" she yells. "Well your ass is bleeding now isn't it?" he asks with strain before he turns away. I can't even move. I just cry as my brain continues to scream. "Take her to her room;" tells mum. "Fine!" he gasps before he collects me as easily as a person collects a rag doll. He carries me to my room and drops me onto my bed. There he swings three punches before he leaves me alone. I cry, and clutching my blankets I cry more and more. Then the sun rises and my cries grow weak, and that is when I finally fall asleep. "