Short Story: Loved, Part 13 of 15

And it continues.
(But it started here.)

            “And they all lived happily ever after,” Rebekah finished a tale for the children. “Until the next story.”

            “What do you mean, ‘until the next story?’” Lucas asked.

            “Oh,” said Rebekah softly. She hadn’t even realized she added that epilogue. “I suppose I mean that happily ever after doesn’t last very long. There’s always some other story to come along and steal away the happy ending.”

            “And some other ending to bring back the happiness!” Polly chirped.

            “Well…yes. I suppose so.” Rebekah smiled. After she and Polly had held each other and cried until their noses turned red and hurt to touch, the boys had grown impatient and demanded that they stop.

            “That’s enough feeling sorry for yourself, now,” Collin spoke importantly. “There are others of us as well.”

            “Why, Collin, you’re right!” Rebekah sat up.

            “For once,” Polly muttered.

            “No, no, he’s right! There are other people. I mean, well, obviously, but I don’t really care about them! I only care about me! I never even thought to wonder how my mom felt.”

            “Maybe you should ask her,” Lucas offered.

Short Story: Loved, Part 12 of 15

Thank you for continuing to read my story. I will not overload you with more stuff to read. Just go ahead. :) (But if you missed the beginning, click here.)

He could hear better now that the rain had stopped. Charlie breathed softly, hoping to hear something in the silent streets. Nothing.

            Trying not to give into his thoughts of failure, Charlie pressed on. He had no idea what the best way to go about this was, but he just kept trying. Perhaps his good intentions would guide him.

            Oh come off it, he thought. Good intentions mattered naught in this world. Charlie sat on a doorstep to think.

Short Story: Loved, Part 11 of 15

I am writing this WEEKS ahead of time!
Well, one week really. But by the time I get to part 15, it will be weeks!
And by the time YOU get to part 15, it will be WARM! I hope.
If you missed the beginning, click here.

Rebekah was dreaming a dream she hadn’t dreamt in a long time. She dreamt she was a flower, sitting quietly on a hillside. She opened up her bright white petals as wide as they would go, drinking in as much sunlight as she could. She was waiting for something, waiting to feel the wind brush through her petals. She could hear the soft sound of its breathing growing in the distance. Her stem stiffened; she reached up to greet its coming. The flowers below her started to frolic, then the ones right in front of her, then, oh glory, she herself was dancing. Not by her own power, but by the gentle touch of the wind kissing her petals and pulling them out to places they had never been before. She knew that every flower around her was also dancing, but she felt as if she were the brightest and the tallest of all. She felt as if the wind had picked her out personally as a dancing partner, for she was so open and willing to let his touch push her beyond her limits. The sun reached down his golden rays to look directly into her face. The spotlight pulled her up from the myriad, igniting her own flaming petals, as if each fragile piece that made up her face were more important than all the field that lay beneath her.

           Rebekah breathed softly. A peaceful smile graced her lips. Content for the first time in years, she lay quietly, until a damaging thought pierced her dreams. What if Charlie sees me like this? The joy was replaced with fear. These dreams displayed her deepest desires, and life had taught her that those must be protected from the rest of the world. Charlie was someone who did not respect boundaries. He would not believe in the mask she chose to show him; he had some ability to see past that. He could know everything about her, if he chose to. How terrifying.

Short Story: Loved, Part 10 of 15

It's almost done! I have actually been like organized and stuff and planned out the rest of the story posts. So I can promise you that if you read this one, you only have 5 more to read. Or, if you missed the beginning, well you have 15 to read. But you can start by clicking here: Loved, Part 1

She was walking blindly now. Rain had started pouring from the dark sky, pounding goblets of water into the pavement. The sun had long since gone down, and the buildings began to all look the same. All around her was dark. Where could she turn? She squatted down in the corner of a doorway, trying vainly to hide from the rain.

Short Story: Loved, Part 9

 We are now more than halfway through! Yay! Sorry it's so late, but it's still Monday for another hour. And you still have a whole week to read this until part 10 is posted. If you missed the beginning, fear not! You can find it right here.

“Where is she?” His voice thundered through the halls. Even the floors could be felt shuddering beneath his wrath. Rebekah cowered in a shadow behind the door she had just slipped in. She didn’t want to come back, but where was she to go? She had not been expecting a hunting party. The painted man had brought his posse, and they were scouring the house for her.

            “She’s a beast, I tell you! A beast!” His voice screeched with an inhuman passion. A short man behind him laid a hand on his back.

            “Calm down. We’ll find her.”

            “The world needs to know what she is!” he wasn’t listening. He was drunk with rage.

            “Why?” said a small man in the back of the crowd. The room went silent. Every head turned to stare at the questioner.

            “Because they deserve the truth!” he yelled into the man’s face. “The truth is that she is not what she seems. She is a horrid, ugly creature. And I will not let her deceive them into thinking she is worthy.”

            The painted man was not used to feeling out of control. He was not used to having his reputation in danger. But the face the girl now bore could destroy his pretense of having everything every man ever wanted, and he could not let that happen.

            “She must have run away,” the short man offered. The painted man gathered his emotions.

            “Ok,” he breathed. “Let’s go.”

Short Story: Loved, Part 8

I suppose I shall have to make these weekly readings a bit longer, so that my long short story does not take as long to get to the end of. I'd estimate that if you finish this week's reading, you will be halfway through! Congratulate yourself. :)

The darker side of the city was more expansive than Charlie had realized. It had been a week, and he wasn’t even sure if he was going about this the right way. How did he even know she was still in this city?

            He had been walking into every shop and building near the alleys where he had first spotted her.

            “Do you know a girl named Rebekah?” he asked.

            Some people stared at him oddly, some just slammed the door. Some pointed out a different Rebekah, some offered him drugs. One even thought he was an undercover cop and tried to shoot him. Charlie hadn’t shown up to work in three days. His search for Rebekah was his lone pursuit.

Short Story: Loved, Part 7

Because I am a writer, I must always write something before I post my story. You may skip it over, but I will pour out my heart for those who care enough to actually read what I write!!!

Have I made you feel guilty?

Apologies. That was a tad dramatic.

Let us continue.