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It’s streaming starting today so you can probably find it pretty easy.
Wait, where is it streaming?
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
It’s already available on Amazon Prime.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Ah, okay! Thanks! From what you said about it, I’ll definitely be checking it out! My siblings and I will probably watch it during our parents next date night. That or Mufasa.
Have you seen Mufasa yet? I’m really excited to see it!
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
Oh! My father and older siblings went and saw Bonhoeffer. I was too busy to go, but I’m planning on seeing it later. They said it was AMAZING. My oldest sister especially loved it! It was SO moving. Have you seen it yet?
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
Oh this is WAY better then Mufasa!
No, I haven’t. My family is waiting for a time when we can watch it without my very little sister. She couldn’t see a movie like that!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Oh this is WAY better then Mufasa!
Okay…I’ll see what I think.
No, I haven’t. My family is waiting for a time when we can watch it without my very little sister. She couldn’t see a movie like that!
Gotcha.
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
I was just talking about your Scottish heritage with Joy, one of my older sisters, and she wanted to know if you go to any Highland Games.
Do you?
By the way, your clan motto is amazing! It’s so cool that they were Covenanters. We can’t say that for our clan. Though we know there were some Sutherland covenanters, the majority were with the bad guys.
So, where does your German come in? Your father’s Irish, and your mother’s Scottish…so…
I also have Turkish and Japanese in me. (My mother’s Japanese, and my father’s father is Turkish)
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
No! I’ve never been to Highland games. That sounds AMAZING!
Have you?
My dad has the German. Our last name is actually German, and I look very German, though my brothers take after the highlander and irish side.
Although, I do have some of the Irish in my facial features and then the fact that I have almost black eyebrows while having blond hair.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
@ellette-giselle @rae @koshka @elishavet-pidyon @keilah-h @mineralizedwritings @theducktator @grcr @anyone-else
Not quite sure where to take this scene after where it ends, so if anyone has any ideas, pls let me know😅
a scene snippet from Book #3 🤫 I didn’t realize these characters I spontaneously came up with would play a bigger role in this story XD
TW: (y’all should just know by now that this is gonna always be here XD). ALCOHOL ADDICTION. FLASHBACKS TO CHILD AB*SE. QUICK MENTIONS OF BL00D/BRUISES.
A quiet knock.
Riker moaned. Shifted.
Another knock, louder, faster.
Iris moved, and her green eyes slowly slid open. “…Riker?” She groaned, “Who would be here this late?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Schind, can you—can you please open the door?”
Grace Adams.
And her voice shook.
Riker quickly got out of bed and stood. He slipped a shirt on.
Micah awoke with a cry, and Iris rose out of bed to pick him up.
Riker quickly made his way out of the bedroom, through the living room, to the front door. He opened the door, Iris a mere few feet behind him, glanced down slightly, and blinked. “Grace, Timothy? Why…what are you doing-?”
Grace shifted, her dark skin barely visible in the dark, her voice shaking still, and whispered, “Papa’s been drinking again.”
Timothy sniffed beside her and pushed up on his glasses, reaching under them to seemingly wipe away tears.
Riker glanced up and down the street, opened the door wider, stepped back, and waved a hand. “Come in. Where’s Lance?”
“He said he’d stay with Mama and Jane. He told me to bring Timothy here.”
Riker glanced at Iris, who stood in the living room, Micah quiet in her arms, drifting back off into sleep. She nodded. “We’ll make room for both of you to sleep here for the night.”
“We don’t want to…we don’t want to make it difficult for you.”
Iris smiled gently at Grace. “You will never make our lives difficult. We’re more than happy to have both of you here for the night.”
Timothy rushed forward, wrapped his arms around Iris, and buried his face in her nightgown. Iris smiled sadly and stroked his short, curly black hair.
“I don’t want Mama to be there…or Lance or Jane. Papa might hurt them.” Grace whispered.
“Don’t worry,” Riker shared a glance with Iris, “we’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
An addiction to alcohol was hard to overcome, even harder for some.
But it was no excuse to hurt one’s family and put them through Hell.
He, or his family, could go somewhere else, at least for the night.
“Yes, we’ll make sure your Mama, Jane, and Lance are taken care of, Grace. Let me go put Micah back down in bed, then I’ll make room for everyone to sleep,” Iris shared another glance with Riker, “and Timothy, would you like to sit on the couch for now?”
Timothy nodded sleepily, still swiping tears from his eyes. He settled on the couch and pulled a pillow close to his chest.
Grace settled beside him, gently stroking his hair.
Riker slipped into his and Iris’ room, and Iris followed behind, closing the door behind her. “You’re going to the Adams’ house.”
He slipped his arms through one of his button-ups as Iris settled Micah in his bassinet. He changed into a pair of slacks and nodded. “Mrs. Adams, Lance, and Jane shouldn’t be forced to stay.”
“I’ll make room for all five of them. Chelsea can sleep in here along with baby Jane.”
Riker nodded, tying on his shoes. He stood, pulled a coat on, and smiled at his wife. “You never say no to someone that needs help.”
“Neither will you,” Iris stepped closer, “just please be careful.”
Riker ducked his head. He pressed a kiss to his wife’s lips. “I will. Don’t worry.”
“You know I still will.”
“Place it in God’s hands.”
Iris sighed but smiled. “You’re right. We all need that reminder from time to time.”
Riker gave her another kiss. “I’ll be back soon. Love you.”
“Love you more.” Iris called after him.
Riker left through the front door, stepped out onto the sidewalks.
Everything was quiet so late at night.
Riker shoved his clammy hands into his coat pockets. Clenched and unclenched them.
Chelsea and all four of her children deserved to be protected.
And if they needed help, who was Riker to refuse?
It would be far too familiar smells…far too familiar sights…sounds.
He shut his eyes tight.
No.
He didn’t-no.
He didn’t have time for memories.
Riker chuffed out a breath, reopening his eyes.
It wasn’t the same.
He could defend himself.
He wasn’t left to his father’s mercy.
He was protecting others, defending them from the things a young and even grown Riker once had no protection from.
He glanced at the run-down house the Adams family called their home, the largest and best they could afford with George unable to keep a job for more than a few weeks at a time even with Chelsea doing everything she possibly could.
He ascended the steps. Gently pushed against the front door.
Unlocked.
Riker gently nudged the door open. Braced himself against the scent of alcohol and the sound of crunching glass beneath his shoes.
A figure moved in the dark.
He quickly turned.
Lance peered at him, his newborn sister in his arms. “…Mr. Schind—Riker? What…did Grace and Timothy…?”
“They’re at home. I’m here to help get you, your mother, and Jane there.”
Lance blinked, a bit of blood dripping from a cut upon his forehead. “…But what…?”
“I’ll take care of it. Get a few necessities for everyone. Where is George and Chelsea?”
“I-I don’t know…in another room.”
“Thank you. Hurry, Lance, and get outside through the back door once you have everything you’ll all need.”
Lance nodded and quickly left the room.
Riker scanned the living room, the kitchen.
No one was there.
He checked the hallway, the bathroom.
Nobody.
A scream echoed.
He froze.
No.
He didn’t have time for memories. Not now!
Riker made his way down the hall, shoved open the door to George and Chelsea’s room. George paused, a small end table in hand. Chelsea sat huddled in the corner, sobbing, spotted with blood and marks that would soon bruise.
George dropped the table on the floor with a thud. His eyes widened. “Riker? Riker Schind? What…what,” he stumbled but righted himself using the bed, “what are you doin’ in my house?”
Riker stepped aside. He gently and slowly helped Chelsea to her feet. “I think you need to sleep off the alcohol, George.” He helped Chelsea to the door and whispered to her, “Lance should be outside with some of your things. He’ll help you to the house: Iris is there waiting for all three of you; Grace and Timothy are already there.”
George snarled. “My wife and children belong with me! They’re my family, Schind, not yours.”
“It’s just for the night. You need to sleep off the alcohol. Quickly, Chelsea.”
Chelsea sent one last, fearful glance her husband’s way and fled down the hallway.
George growled. Stepped forward.
Riker blocked the doorway with his body.
Chelsea, Lance, and Jane would soon be on their way to his home. George was too drunk to really follow them. They would be safe, at least for the night.
George would forget everything come morning, including his rage.
He wasn’t a cruel man, but rather a broken one.
When he wasn’t drunk, he was a good man, even a kind one.
“You’re better than this, George, and your wife and children deserve better than this.”
“Out…out…get out of my way, Riker.”
Riker slowly shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“They’re my family!” George screamed.
“And the alcohol is making them not trust you and hurting them.”
A heavy bottle rose.
Riker didn’t lift his arms in time.
Glass met head.
Alcohol spilled.
Riker saw stars.
His head swam.
Riker whimpered. He crawled under the table as a glass bottle shattered against the wall.
He hugged his small seven-year-old legs close to his chest, his unkempt dark brown locks falling down into his field of vision.
Franz’s heavyset footsteps echoed across the polished wooden floors. He stumbled and slurred, “Where are you at, boy…? You think you can hide from me? I’ll find you. I always will.”
No.
No, he wasn’t back there.
The drunk man standing before him was another woman’s husband, other children’s father, not his own father. The man standing before him was George Adams, not Franz Schind.
Right.
Right?
His hands clammed.
Sweat clung to his shirt.
His heart pounded, his head swirled, and every breath chuffed.
This is good! I like this scene!
Wait, hang on……. you got him stuck there and now you don’t know what to do?!?!
Haha…… I may or may not have done that to a character before………
Honestly, George doesn’t seem very stable at the moment, If Riker gets out of the room and George follows and trips over something he’s likely not going to get back up. George could even knock himself out and then Riker checks he’s okay before going after the family. *shrug* just some random thoughts.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
No! I’ve never been to Highland games. That sounds AMAZING!
Have you?
Yes, quite a number of times. The Highland Games in our area aren’t that big, but back in Oregon, we attended some huge Highland games. They are always lots of fun! There’s music, highland dancing, sheep herding, and yes, don’t forget the caber toss! When you go to bigger Highland Games, the ground literally shakes when all the massive bands play together. It’s something you never forget!
My dad has the German. Our last name is actually German, and I look very German, though my brothers take after the highlander and irish side.
Oh! I wondered if your last name was German.
Although, I do have some of the Irish in my facial features and then the fact that I have almost black eyebrows while having blond hair.
Woah, that sounds like you look very stark.
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
Thanks!! <3
Wait, hang on……. you got him stuck there and now you don’t know what to do?!?!
This happens way more often than you realize😂
Leon and Riker get stuck in sticky situations all the time
Honestly, George doesn’t seem very stable at the moment, If Riker gets out of the room and George follows and trips over something he’s likely not going to get back up. George could even knock himself out and then Riker checks he’s okay before going after the family. *shrug* just some random thoughts.
Yeah I was thinking something along those lines.
Ooh, nice scene! Well, not nice, but well written. Poor Riker.
If you want to find all the cops, they're hanging out in the donut shop.
THAT SOUNDS AMAZING!!!!!
I’ll have to check it out! Are they free?
How would I go about locating one in my area?
Oh, is there a lot of drinking and/or immodesty, or are they pretty clean?
I do a lot of highland dancing, but I’ve never been to something like that!
Woah, that sounds like you look very stark.
Lol. I hope that’s a good thing…..
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Oh! My father and older siblings went and saw Bonhoeffer. I was too busy to go, but I’m planning on seeing it later. They said it was AMAZING. My oldest sister especially loved it! It was SO moving. Have you seen it yet?
Pardon me for intruding on the conversation, but I just saw this… I saw Bonhoeffer with my brothers a few weeks ago and it was really good! You should see it when you have the chance!
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
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