Finding You Critique (Will be continued Updates!)

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  • #128926
    KattheWriter
    @katthewriter
      • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
      • Total Posts: 103

      Hey Guys,

      I’m going to be sharing my Novel, Finding You, chapter by chapter on here. I shared the beginning snippet (and some character collages, so jump over there if you’d like to see!) and quite a few of you liked it and thought I should put it on here. I will be adding it chapter by chapter, and will probably start with the first 4, as the book switches from 3 different POVs, and that way we get a little bit into it. This is a first draft. That i started SIX years ago. So yes Ik these first 3 chapters are cringe, they will be fixed in draft 2. But I promise if you stick around it quickly gets MUCH better. Bc I switch Point of Views so much, they are really short chapters, like 2/3 pages, so not much reading. But anyway, you are welcome to read it and give opinions. Bc I am still writing chapter draft 1, i’m not really looking for grammar/itty gritty edits, but like do you like the characters/does it draw you in/do you want to know what happens next/feel for them/like the complicated plot ect. So please, feel free to say any comments, concerns, questions ect. There are quite a few chapters that usually evokes yelling at me from readers 😉

      Warnings- This book is YA. There is no swearing (unless you count Rats or made up ones as it), inappropriate, ect. But it is war. There is a cruel government that believes in breaking people to make them better for fighting on their side. So there’s mention of torture/abuse both physically and mentally. And it touches on things like identity, death/loss/guilt, revenge, and depression/anxiety. I just don’t want anyone to get triggered, I don’t have darkness just to have darkness, I believe in real dark is when the light is so much brighter. A change in heart from terrible to good is so much better than a so so to okay. If you’re worried about anything just ask below. I can also leave a lil warning on each chapter. (BUT IF YOU JUST WAIT, the chapter I just wrote is the sweetest fluff that KILLs. You just gotta get to it xD)

      I’ll start posting it on the next section below 🙂

       

      And i’ll be making a tag list for when I add more, so lmk if you want to be tagged!

      • This topic was modified 1 year, 11 months ago by KattheWriter.

      Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

      #128928
      KattheWriter
      @katthewriter
        • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
        • Total Posts: 103

         

         

        I gripped the bars of the cell so hard my knuckles turned white.

        I thought he had changed.

        I thought he cared.

        He did it.

        The thing I never thought he would do.

        I felt like I was in a haze.

        The noise of chains met my ears.

        He said he understood.

        He helped me.

        How could he?

        I staggered and gripped the bars harder.

        He said he would protect me.

        That they were wrong.

        But then they came.

        The noise of the chains rattling came closer.

        He didn’t say a word.

        He didn’t try to stop them.

        He let them take me.

        My knees buckled and I fell to the ground.

        He turned me in.

        And now I’m going to die.

         

        ~ ~ ~ ~          ~ ~ ~ ~       ~ ~ ~ ~          ~ ~ ~~

        (Trigger Warnings- a slap, harsh words, and cut)

         

               Chapter 1

                X392

         

        “Hey! Girl! Stop where you are!”

        His words brought me back to the real world, and I froze.

        He walked over to me, terror racing up my spine when I saw he was a commander. He looked at me sharply. “What rank are you?”

        I gulped, “X.”

        His expression got harder, and he glared down at me. “How dare you?! What are you doing over here?”

        Looking up at him I felt very small and trembled a little, not knowing what to say. I couldn’t say what it was, he wouldn’t understand the feeling of being starved when he gets a meal three times a day. I hesitated to answer.

        He saw my hesitation and stepped closer to me, his voice low. “I said, what. Are. You. Doing. Here?!”

        Shaking in fright I said, “N-n-nothing, sir.”

        “That’s what I thought.” He slapped me so hard in the face that it stunned me for a second. “Get back to work! NOW!” He barked, then walked off.

        I stood shaking for a second then ran. Tears welled in my eyes, the side of my face stinging as I kept running. I ran past the training buildings, past the houses of the soldiers I was a servant to, past the other boys who were sitting in a group probably planning some sort of mischief that involved hurting me. I ran past all that, and slowed as I came to an old, abandoned shed.

        I looked at it for a moment, remembering him who lived there. Him, which was the only thing that kept me going, the only person who put a little hope in me. He’s been gone for a year now, and so had my hope.

        I bit my lip and started to walk around the shed. Against the back of it was a little lean to. Just a big board leaning against the shed, rocks and dirt piled behind it, and over the front like a door, was an old dirty piece of curtain. I pushed it open and sat inside. This was home.

        In the corner against the wall of the shed was a feed sack full of dirt that was my pillow, and next to it was my thin worn blanket. On the other side of my lean-to was a bowl of mush, full and untouched. We got a bowl full of it every morning. But I rarely ate it, only choking it down every few days. It tastes like cement and was like it where if I didn’t eat it while it was still warm, it would turn as hard as a rock.

        I yawned and rubbed the side of my head that was throbbing. Maybe if I laid down for a few minutes, it would feel better. I could sleep for a little bit and then be all ready to start working. As I thought about it more, I felt more tired. I hadn’t slept well the last couple of nights. So why not? I laid down, my head on the feed sack, and pulled the cloth I used as a blanket over me, so I could cover my head to block out the bright sun.

        I yawned again, then closed my eyes.

        I jerked awake, my heart slamming. I knew I heard something, what was it that scared me so much? I pushed the blanket off of my head and looked around frantically. Then I heard it. The buzzer. Fear gripped me. I had slept too long. I got up and bolted out. The buzzer rang again. I was too late. The last time I didn’t get to the line until two buzzers rang I got beat up. But three? I ran and slipped into the single file line with all the others.

        I saw the commander look at me and glare. My heart almost stopped, terrified of the punishment I’d get for this. The commander walked down the line of people, with his face as hard as a rock, his eyes piercing into each person as he passed them. When he came to me, he stopped, and his look cut into me so much, I looked down, my frame trembling. He nodded to one of his men, who came and grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the line.

        My knees felt weak, like they were going to give out any minute. The man said, “She will be getting punishment for not coming when called, and letting the buzzer ring 3 times, before showing up.”

        The commander, with his eyes piercing through me, said low and firm, “What’s your rank and number? And do you have anything to say for the reason you were late?”

        I swallowed hard, feeling all eyes on me. “It’s a …. X … X392 … and yes. I got overworked, so I was so tired, that I had to sleep-”

        He cut me off, roaring with anger, “How dare you?? You stupid X! You have no excuse!!” He pulled out a knife, which made my heart almost stop, “Now, come here for your punishment.”

        I stepped forward shaking in fear, my heart slamming so loud it was banging in my head.

        He held my head, and pressed the knife into my left cheek, and dragged it down, cutting open my cheek. I didn’t dare to cry out in pain, or scream. I just bit my lip really hard, fighting tears.

        “And tonight you have to stay out in the woods outside of the camp. All night long! And if I see you sneaking back in, the punishment will be more severe!  GO!” He pushed me so hard forward I almost fell.

        With tears threatening to spill down my face, I ran, but when I got to the gate I stopped. I had never had to be out of the camp before. The barbed wire fence kept the wild animals out, but out there in the open, nothing would protect me from them. My frame trembled as I stepped out through the gate. As soon as I did, an officer closed it behind me. Looking I could tell there was no way that I could get back in, the gate was covered with spikes and barbed wires. I’d kill myself just trying to get in.

        As tears started to run down my face, burning my wound, I ran through the fields, and dirt piles, through it all, running as fast as I could go, stumbling over rocks, and tripping over roots. When I could run no more, I fell to the ground and cried. The tears made my wound burn which made me cry all the more.

        I heard a rustle in the trees, stopped crying, and sat up quickly looking around. “H-hello-o?” I asked softly, my voice shaking. There was no response. I shivered as a cool wind blew, and the sky was darkening.

        My frame started to shake, all I wanted was to curl up in my little lean to, and snuggle under my blanket, feeling safe and warm. But out here I felt unprotected and cold.  Fear gripped me, and for the first time ever I was alone.

         

        @freedomwriter76 @orielle21

        Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

        #128929
        KattheWriter
        @katthewriter
          • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
          • Total Posts: 103

          (TW- mentions murder. Aka my Morally grey character’s past that makes him now morally grey 🙁

          Chapter 2

          Roger

           

          After staring at the ceiling for a long time, I finally got up. There’s no way I could get to sleep. Not on a night like this… not this one. I got up and walked towards the window, the full moon sending light through it, but stopped when I passed the mirror. I turned to look at myself.

          In those years I’d changed so much. My clothes were wrinkled, dirty, and torn. My beard was uneven, and dirty, my hair messy and sticking up all over the place, so different from the clean, neat, nice shaven, and well appeared man I used to be. Looking at myself I knew I could never go back to that, my hands were bruised and scarred, and the large scar down my cheek, that would remind me why I would never go back. Why I would never back down, why I would never stop, why I could never quit, why I could never give myself in, and why I wouldn’t ever give up. I’d keep going. For Her. And for Her mother.

          I swallowed hard, my hands starting to shake a little. But then I tensed my muscles. No, I wasn’t going to be a wimp about it, I was a man. I was strong, I was fearless. I took a deep breath and walked over to the window, my eyes scanning the yard, and the woods.

          Suddenly something caught my eye.

          They were here. I could see their outlines from the light of the silver moon in the sky. I grit my teeth, this would be the last time they’d ever walk near my house. I picked up my sword and started walking to the door. I stopped when I passed the mirror. Looking at my sword, I hesitated, moving the sword a little in my hand. Is this really..?

          My eyes moved to looking at the mirror, staring back at me I saw Her. Her dark brown eyes stared back at me with such brightness that I felt if I reached out I could touch Her. Her brown hair fell at Her shoulder in little curls, and she had that sweet, beautiful smile that reminded me of Her mother. Suddenly that smile faded, and Her eyes grew fearful, those men were in the house, they cornered Her off and-

          I turned my head away from the mirror, still hearing the gun shot echoing in my head. And then Her scream, the scream that still haunts me to this day.

          I looked back at the mirror, seeing her still form fade away, and just see myself. I had failed. I had lied to her mother; I had promised that I would keep Her safe. A single tear slipped down my face, but I brushed it away quickly when it reached my cheek.

          I grit my teeth hard and locked my jaw.

          They had taken Her.

          They had tortured Her.

          I gripped the sword harder, and walked past the mirror, and out the door.

          They had killed Her.

          And now they would pay.

          Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

          #128930
          KattheWriter
          @katthewriter
            • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
            • Total Posts: 103

            (Tw- None)

            Chapter 3

            Nathaniel

             

            I started sweeping the front porch of the store, using hard big strokes to try to get the layer of dusty dirt off of it quickly.

            I was about halfway done when I saw a woman and girl walking up the pathway. I stopped, to let the dust settle so it wouldn’t get in their eyes.

            The woman was tall, and nice looking, but my eyes stayed on the girl. I gave them both a smile of hello.  The woman just nodded, and the girl, grinning up at me, gave a happy, “Hello!” Her dark eyes shone brightly, as she walked into the store.

            A felt a sharp pain in my heart. Did she still look like that? All Beautiful and happy… And if so…where is she now? I shook myself. No, I could let the sadness set over me. I was at work, busy. I Need to finish my job. I could think about her later. Right now, I need to work.

            I went back to work on the porch, though I knew in the back of my mind that I could never stop thinking about her.

            I had finished the porch to my satisfaction, sweeping, and re-sweeping around the edges by the time the woman and girl walked out. The girl was smiling happily, holding a bundle close to her, probably some fabric for a new dress.

            Another pain tugged at my heart. Did she have the joy of getting nice things like a new dress, like she did when she was little? Or was she even treated that nicely? Again, I pushed the thought away, and after watching those two figures get lost in the crowded street, I leaned the broom against the porch wall, dusted off my hands on my pants, and headed inside.

            Big wooden shelves lined the walls on the left side of the room, with things like fabric, ribbons, and already made clothes. The bottom shelves had shoes and leather. On the other side of the room, was all sorts of tools and materials, like shovels, bricks, paint, and rope. Towards the back wall, was the large wood counter, and behind it on the back wall was foods, from milk, eggs, and cheese, to veggies, pies, and even some candy people bought for their children.

            Behind the counter was Mr. Collins. He was a great, kind, hardworking man. He smiled at me when I walked in. “Hey Nate, do you think you could use that strong young back of yours to get a box of bricks from the back, and put them where they go? I noticed that we looked low on the shelves.”

            I nodded, “Yes sir.” I headed over to him, past the counter, and into the back room.

            I found the boxes of bricks, and picked it up, and quickly walked out, its weight bearing me down. I sat it down carefully and took a deep breath.

            Mr. Collins, who was watching, chuckled, “Not as strong as you thought?”

            I laughed, “I guess not, sir.” I opened the wooden box and started stacking them in their place.

            As I was doing it, some more people came in, some going to the counter to get food, others looking at the clothes. Collins’ Market was a popular place, it having almost everything, so people only had to make one visit. I was lucky to get to work here. Mr. Collins had always been nice to me, and paid me well, and even invited me over to his house for dinner a couple times. His wife made amazing soups. Was she getting enough food? Were they feeding her at all? Or did she have to find it all on her own?

            I kept working, thinking of her.

            Hold on Grace. 

            No matter how far away you are. 

            No matter where you are. 

            No matter how long it takes me to get there. 

            I will find you. 

            Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

            #128931
            KattheWriter
            @katthewriter
              • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
              • Total Posts: 103

              (Tw- (this is probably my favorite show don’t tell, but my most gruesome chapter) shows a physical attack (beating her up) and cruel words. BUT DON”T WORRY it’ll all be better soon.)

              Chapter 4

              X392

               

              I sat there for a long time, gritting my teeth, and trying to not scream my lungs out as I laid in the grass. My cut felt like there were hot spikes in my left cheek, burning and digging deeper, making my whole head throb. Though I managed to not scream there was no way to stop the flood of tears that were mixing with the warm blood dripping off of my face.

              I reached my hand up to try to wipe some blood off of my face, but accidently touched my cut. I quickly jerked it away as I cried out in pain, the burning sensation becoming worse. I couldn’t stop myself, I started crying, crying harder and harder, till the sobs wracked my body.

              I jerked, and almost screamed when I heard a loud male voice yell, “Hey! You there! Girl! Get to your feet and stop that fuss this instant!!”

              As quick as I could I sat up, swallowing, and biting back my sobs of pain and terror.

              My eyes still full of tears blurred my vision, but I blinked a couple times to try to see better. He was way taller than me, I felt like a midget compared to him.

              “Why are you out of the camp?” He harshly asked.

              I fought tears, trying to get the words out, “I-I…” I swallowed hard, managing to say my voice shaking, “I…I-I got-t s-sent out.” I very slowly looked up to him to look him in the eyes, knowing I’d get hit if I didn’t.

              His dark blue eyes bore down at me so hard that it hurt my eyes to keep looking at him, but I didn’t dare look away. “Oh really?! And why is that?!?” He demanded.

              “I…. It’s a…a…p-punishment.”

              “Oh.” He looked surprised, “What rank are you?”

              “Oh…u-um…uh..” I dreaded this part. I knew as soon as that letter came out the pain or something horrible would come. “X392.”

              He looked pleasantly surprised, then his face darkened, but with a grin on it, a wicked grin. “Well then, I think you are whom I have been searching for, the X that got out that needed some more done to it to teach her a lesson.”  The way he said ‘teach her a lesson’ sent chills down my back.

              He opened the bag at his side and pulled out an object, I knew what it was before it was even in sight, by its distinct rattling. Shackles. The breath in my lungs seemed to get knocked out of me, and a sense of weakness lay over me. Shudder, after shudder, after shudder wracked through my body, the color draining from my face. The past came right to the front of my mind, almost blinding me with the vivid, sharp pictures that cut into me with so much more pain than before.

              The next thing I could feel was their cold sharpness against my wrists, the little spikes on the inside cutting into them. I tugged to get away, but knew it was in vain. All it did was drive the spikes deeper into my skin, making it feel like they were on fire.

              The next thing I could smell was him, he smelled like a mixture of smoke, sweat, and some sort of spice. He leaned his face close to mine. “You’re so ugly, no wonder you’re an X!” He stepped back a little, but then I felt a hard punch to the face and fell backward with a scream of pain. I didn’t fall for long before I hit the ground with a crash. He looked down at me, gave me a sharp kick in the side, then kneeled down to give me two more punches in the face.

              The next thing I could taste was blood. Blood and tears which made a salty mixture that burned my mouth almost as much as my face and wrist were burning.

              The next thing I could hear was his harsh voice cursing me. Cursing about how ugly, worthless, and stupid I was. I accepted each one, because even though I wished it weren’t so, I knew everything he said about me was true. The curses flew as fast as the punches and kicks, he hit me in the head, in the jaw, in the side, in the ribs, in the face, again and again until my whole body was burning in pain, bruised and bleeding.

              For a second his beating stopped as a sharp deep male voice called out from somewhere nearby, “Enough! Don’t you dare strike her one more time!”

              Something hard hit me in the head, a sharp pain shot through it, and I knew no more.

              Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

              #128944
              Esther
              @esther-c
                • Rank: Chosen One
                • Total Posts: 3572

                @katthewriter

                I just read the first chapter and it sounds really interesting!

                And the cover is beautiful!! Did you design it yourself? (And if so, where/how did you do it?)

                I’ll probably pop in on here and read a few chapters from time to time. (I’m in the middle of a few other books for my own pleasure and for school atm) You don’t need to tag me, but I will read more later. 😄

                Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende

                #128984
                KattheWriter
                @katthewriter
                  • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                  • Total Posts: 103

                  @esther-c

                   

                  thanksss

                  Thank you!! And yes I did make it. I make all my graphics on Canva, the app on my phone or laptop. Free version. 🙂 I’ve been using it since i’ve been writing and really love it. So now I make the graphics for the pins for KP’s pinterest 😀

                  Ok, awesome! Thanks so much!!!!

                  Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

                  #128990
                  Orielle2023
                  @orielle21
                    • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                    • Total Posts: 173

                    @katthewriter

                    Please hurry and help her!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                    So, I take it there are three MC’s? I do like the different perspectives. Good job. I felt everything. And I also like reading and writing first person.

                    Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo

                    #129023
                    Esther
                    @esther-c
                      • Rank: Chosen One
                      • Total Posts: 3572

                      @katthewriter

                      I didn’t know there was a free version of Canva. I’ll have to check it out. 😉

                      Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende

                      #129082
                      Power
                      @power
                        • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
                        • Total Posts: 340

                        @katthewriter It seems like it will be an interesting story. I’ll be looking forward to the next part! 👍

                        (I do wonder if you really realize how much damage you just inflicted in chapter 4 though? I guess I’ll have to wait and see. 😉)

                        Critique: Though it might sound good, it really isn’t smart to punch someone in the head with an unprotected fist. The skull is VERY hard. Your fingers aren’t. A strike with the palm or blow from the side of the fist will be less likely to break one of your digits. Try this out on a wall and you’ll see what I mean (just not too hard 😋).

                        You will love what you spend time with.

                        #129083
                        KattheWriter
                        @katthewriter
                          • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                          • Total Posts: 103

                          (i still cringe at the beginning of this, and some of my wording. ik I’ll change stuff in draft 2! lolll)

                          (tw- mention of wounds?)

                           

                          Chapter 5

                          Roger

                           

                          I pulled out my sword and in a few quick strides was by his side, my sword pointing at his throat. “I SAID ENOUGH!” Anger burned through me, and I wanted to kill him right then and there, for knocking the girl out but something about her presence stopped me.

                          I glared hard down to him, he glaring back, after a few seconds he started to realize how outmatched he was compared to me. His eyes widened, and he took a step back, but I took a step with him, my stride being longer, the sword going closer to his sweating twitching neck.

                          Again, I looked down at the small bleeding form; a pang tore at my heart. I glared at the man saying low, and menacing, “Leave now, and tell no one, and I will spare your life. But if you dare lay a hand on her again, I will kill you.”

                          He nodded his head, digging into a pocket, and threw a key at me then hurriedly retreated away. I caught the keys in midair. Looking down at her my insides clenched more, realizing what the key was for. Shackles.

                          My breath caught in my throat as I kneeled down by the small form. Her ash brown hair framed her pale face, which had a large fresh looking cut down her left cheek. Her thin worn brown pants and shirt were covered in blood. I couldn’t just free her and leave her. She needed help.

                          I took the key and inserted it into the shackle, pulling them off as it unlocked them. Their cold sharpness sent a strange feeling through me, which added to my anger. How could they be so heartless?

                          Scooping her up in my arms I stood up. She felt like she weighed nothing. Nothing more than what a five-year-old would weigh. As I started walking towards home, I realized that even though she was tiny, and weighed almost nothing, she must be at least in her early teens because she was more womanly.

                          Hearing her raspy breathing getting fainter I hurried faster towards home. I kept glancing down at her every few seconds, it felt like it was taking longer than usual to get home.

                          Finally, the old black oak fence came into view. I hurried a little faster, as I again looked down at her, the rising and falling of her chest looking like it was slowing. No… no… this is not going to happen like that again…

                          The sharp bark of Maggie jerked me out of my thoughts. “Quiet Maggie! She’s with me!”

                          Immediately she stopped barking and I saw her tuck her tail under her and head towards the house. Holding the girl with one arm, I fumbled with the lock on the gate, until it clicked open. Running into the house I went and sat her down on the bed in a room.

                          I took a sharp breath looking her over, she was bleeding a lot and losing breath, I needed to work fast. Swallowing, I quickly walked to the closet in the hallway searching for bandages. Even though I wasn’t in there I could still see her ghostly white face in front of my eyes. What if…she doesn’t make it..? No.. No, another one cannot die in this house! But what if I can’t help her.. What if me bringing her home will kill her…?

                          “No!” I shouted, banging my fist down, as tears pressed against the back of my eyes. I grabbed the bandages and went back to her side.

                          Feeling her wrist, I could only make out a faint pulse. As gentle, well done, and as fast as I could I bandaged her wounds, my heart tugging, and my chest feeling tight at all the scars she had. How dare they do this to her?

                          Tying the last bandage, I took a sharp shaky breath through my grit teeth. I had done all that I could do, and still it didn’t feel like I had done enough. Like I owed something more to this girl that they had done so much damage to. Again, I felt her wrist, it was a little faint, but steady, and didn’t seem to get any fainter, just staying in that almost dying but not state. She can’t die… she can’t…. not again. Not in this room. 

                          When I had walked in, I didn’t even think of which room to put her in, I was in too much of a hurry. My eyes trailed around her walls covered in her drawings of all the things she loved in colorful crayons. From flowers and fairies, to Maggie, and one of me and her. And with her amazingly wonderful scrawny handwriting under us saying ‘Daddy and Me’.

                          Wiping my hand across my eyes, I focused back on the girl. Though she was stable at the moment, she could change any minute.

                          I’ll stay here. I sat down on a chair, pulling it close by the bed. I’ll keep watch. I got up and got a blanket from the closet, and covered her with it. I won’t go to sleep tonight. I tucked the blanket in around her to keep the chill of the night from getting to her. I’ll make sure she’s okay. Sitting back down, I kept my eyes on her. I won’t fail again.

                          Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

                          #129084
                          KattheWriter
                          @katthewriter
                            • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                            • Total Posts: 103

                            Chapter 6

                            Nathaniel

                             

                            Looking up I saw Mr. Collins putting the closed sign up. I sighed, glad the day was finally over, there had been a large number of customers, and an abundance of them kept making messes, like toppling over supplies, and knocking things off of shelves. I know they didn’t mean to… but still… Someone could for once pick up the things they dropped… Oh well, them dropping stuff, and making messes, and taking forever is what helps me with my job.

                            I slowly got up to my feet, biting my lip as a dull throb went through my back. I walked over to Mr. Collins as he finished filing through the money.

                            He looked up as I came over, a smile spreading over the old man’s face. Reaching over the counter he gave my shoulders a slight squeeze. Some boys my age would shrug it off, but I didn’t. It felt good after not having stuff like that for all those years.

                            “Thank you, Nate. Couldn’t have managed the shop without your help.” He smiled wider, and pulling his hands off my shoulders, he bent down, getting something from the counter shelves. He pulled out a little glass container of something.

                            “This is some of my wife’s favorite stew, she just didn’t want to imagine you not having a good home cooked meal.”

                            I started to refuse it, but he interrupted me saying, “And she knew you would say no, but she said that you get over yourself, and let her give it to you. You need some meat on your bones anyway.” He chuckled slightly, it was no secret, I was kind of skinny. “So, I’m going to go heat this up in the back room, then you can take it home with you.” He walked to the back before I even said Thank you.

                            A warm feeling welled up inside me, looking down, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, just this gesture, which may seem small, meant so much. The last time I had a warm meal…was when I had been over at their house. The Collin’s are amazing, they don’t just love with words, but with actions.  That’s another reason I loved working with Mr. Collin’s, he was teaching me how to love people with actions. Every answered question, every dusty floor that needs to be swept, all with love.

                            After a few minutes, Mr. Collins came back carrying a small basket.

                            “I put it in this so you wouldn’t burn yourself on your way home.” He said handing it to me.

                            I nodded. Swallowing the emotion welling up in my chest, “Thank you so much sir. And please tell Mrs. Collins thank you, for me.”

                            “Of course, you have a good rest of your day, okay Nate?”

                            “Yes sir, I’m sure I will, with food this good. You have a good one too.” I smiled, turning to go.

                            “Oh wait, I forgot something.” I turned to see Mr. Collins going into his money file. Pulling out a thick envelope he handed it to me. “Here’s this month’s pay. Thought you might need it a little early.” He winked at me, as if he somehow knew that if it wasn’t for his wife’s meal and the money early, I wouldn’t have been able to eat tonight.

                            I felt choked up. “T-thank y-you s-sir.” I turned to leave before he would see me almost crying. I walked out the door, and down the road. As far as Mr. Collins or I knew, it wasn’t a for sure I showed up the last week of the month, I could’ve got hurt, or sick, or some other reason for not coming. But he paid me early. And I know, if for some reason I couldn’t show up, I know that the Collin’s would never ask me to give back that money. They loved with their actions. And I was very fortunate to get that love from them. I didn’t deserve it. Not one bit.

                            As I plodded along the dirt road, I thought about how I thought this day would be like. It had turned out so different then I had imagined. It was as if someone…someone who had control of everything was watching over me. Not ever giving me something before I need it, but right when I need it.

                            I turned down the alleyway towards the tiny falling down house that I called home. As soon as I did, I saw them. A group of boys, going in and out of my house, taking things, and strewing my belongings everywhere. There were two older boys, probably in 15 or 16, and a couple younger ones. Coming closer, I saw their clothes were in rags. They were street boys.

                            “You boys know it isn’t polite to scatter my belongings everywhere?” I said sort of jokingly. I couldn’t yell at them for what they were doing. We had plenty in common, being on our own, and having to fend for ourselves to get food. And fortunately, a lot of times, people wouldn’t give street boys jobs, so to survive they took things that weren’t theirs.

                            I recognized one of the older ones, and he me. He looked at me confused. Probably not understanding how the guy who worked at that big store, lived in a dump like this. I nodded at them, pretending like I didn’t see them stuffing little things of mine in their pockets. They probably needed it more than me anyhow.

                            One of the young ones had scratches and bruises all over his face and arms. He trembled slightly saying in a shaky, fearful voice. “I-I-I’m s-s-so s-sorry s-sir..!” He shrank back, hiding behind one of the older boys, as a few of the others scampered away with frightened eyes. They were afraid of being caught, and punished. But I didn’t want to punish them, I just wanted to love them, like the Collins did with me.

                            I crouched down to be more at his level, saying softly, “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” I picked up the bag with a few crackers in it that he had dropped when he flinched away, and held them out to him. “You can have these.”

                            He glanced up at the older boy, and he, knowing me nodded. The small boy slowly moved forward, dark brown locks of hair almost hiding the unsure look in his hazy green eyes. He reached out to take it, his scarred hands shaking. Taking it, he quickly drew back, mumbling a quiet. “T-th-thank.”

                            I smiled at him, as he walked away with all the others, but Sam, the older boy I recognized. Suddenly my eyes caught sight of something gold in his hand. Standing up quickly, I took a steady step towards him.

                            “S-Sam you can take whatever else, but I need that locket back.”

                            He turned it over in his hand, looking down at it. “I’m not sure… I could get a pretty good price for it…”

                            “No, I’ll give you something else…anything Sam.” I can’t lose that, it’s the only thing I have left of her!

                            “What’s in the basket?”

                            I sighed, “It’s a stew, really great, made by a really amazing cook. I’ll give it to you…and 20 bucks. Deal?” I opened the basket letting the wonderful smell of it come out. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. “Doesn’t it smell great? You can take the basket and all, and I’ll give you the 20 now.”

                            He nodded, looking satisfied. He handed me the locket as I was pulling a 20 out of the envelope of money. We traded, Sam scooping up the basket and started walking away saying, “I don’t get why you traded all this, for that little thing!”

                            I sighed, holding the locket against my chest, as if holding it would feel like holding a part of her close. Opening the locket, I stared at my darling sister.  Her bright blue eyes, and brown curls went amazingly with her adorable little smile. I rubbed my finger against her picture. Closing my eyes, I could still see her, happy, always smiling, and giggling at my jokes.

                            Tonight, I would go to sleep hungry, but I’d still have a part of her with me.

                            Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

                            #129085
                            KattheWriter
                            @katthewriter
                              • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                              • Total Posts: 103

                              (TW- PTSD/ memories of… er, bad things? And panicking? Writing these trigger warning without spoiling is hardddd lol xD)

                              Chapter 7

                              X392

                               

                              What happened? I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were locked shut. Making it impossible to open them, leaving me in terrifying darkness. Where am I? I tried to move, but came to a stop when icy pain weaved through my body. Gritting my teeth in pain, I tried to take a deep breath, but I couldn’t. There was something tight against my stomach and chest, like something was crushing down on me. It was something rough, wound tightly around me. Like some sort of fabric… like bandages. Who would do that? No one in the camp would ever give me bandages.

                              I slowly moved my fingers, feeling the surface I was on. It was soft, and warm, but underneath it was firmer. I took a sharp breath, letting it sink in, letting the horrible horror sink in. No… No…it can’t be! No…. But the truth was there, I didn’t have to open my eyes to see it, I could feel it with every part of my body. Gritting my teeth, I tried to sit up, but it was useless. The truth banged in my head, like my panicked heartbeat. I was on the bed.

                              I tried to move and struggle, crying out, but the bonds on my wrists and ankles kept me down. I arched my back up with each breath, struggling to breathe as the icy pain of needles cut into me, and the stinging of the stuff being pumped into me started.

                              I screamed. But no one heard. No one cared.

                              I could only make out gaspy breaths as my body wracked with sobs, I screamed. “S-stop!! P-please st-stop!”

                              But the men in white cloaked clothes barely looked up.

                              “P-p-please! Y-you’re k-killing me-e!” I kicked and flailed struggling to get away. But it was nothing against the tight bonds.

                              Everything blurred, and faded, as the stinging slowly eased away and I could no longer feel the bonds. I couldn’t feel the bed either.  It was something else. It was someone else.

                              Someone was holding me. Holding me against them. Holding me tightly. Holding me to cut me? Holding me to strangle me? I wasn’t ready to find out.

                              I kicked and screamed. I heard a slight exclamation, then I couldn’t feel the someone anymore. I could feel it, hard and cold. It was the floor.

                              Taking a deep shaky breath, I calmed slightly, but then choked on a sob as pain tore through my body. All my moving causing my pain to increase. Letting a quiet flood of tears out, I bit my lip, my chest sending stinging pain all through me.

                              Hearing soft footsteps walking up closer to me, like someone ready to pounce, I managed to slightly peel my eyes open. I saw a blurry figure before me. It was tall, very tall. It was huge. Its dark shadow laying on me, like it was ready to swallow me up. I closed my eyes cringing, knowing this was going to be my end.

                              I heard the step walk closer, and closer, then lean down beside me. I could hear his short, almost hard breaths, and its boots squeaking on the floor.

                              I waited.

                              Goodbye me.

                              And waited.

                              Goodbye life.

                              For it to come.

                              Then something happened that I had never felt before. I felt knuckles gently rub my cheek, and a soft low voice, which was almost a hum, whispered. “It’s okay.”

                              Then all was still, and silent.

                               

                               

                              Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

                              #129086
                              KattheWriter
                              @katthewriter
                                • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                                • Total Posts: 103

                                @orielle21 Don’t worry, help is here!

                                 


                                @esther-c
                                Oooh yes. I’m very into free versions of everything loll. #brokeyoungadult

                                 


                                @power
                                yaaaa. Luckily tho, now I have a friend who’s an EMT who totally lets me ask him all my concerning questions instead of googling them, so many things will be fixed for more kinda real in injuries and suchhh

                                oof yeah, I guess I didn’t think about that. But I feel like this guy is one of the very trained, as in they have to punch a wooden pole for hours, and prove that they are worthy of being cruel and tough enough to earn his rank. (like this is bad bad people) But thank you! I will take that into account!

                                • This reply was modified 1 year, 11 months ago by KattheWriter.

                                Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

                                #129088
                                KattheWriter
                                @katthewriter
                                  • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
                                  • Total Posts: 103

                                  ALSO 3 New chapter ^^^^^

                                   

                                  Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.

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