5. Unbreakable

I was going to post it yesterday after I finished editing it a bit, but I guess I felt a bit tired and lazy. So tada.
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                No one is unbreakable not unless you were a god. But even then, they weren’t completely unbreakable. There was always a hidden chink in their armor, one that usually led to their downfall, shame, or something just as bad. Usually no one knew about it… till the myths, lies, and stories were spread. Each time those were spread from one head to another, the chink in the armor grows bigger and bigger till it’s unfixable. And it usually isn’t just the gods’ armor that’s doing it it’s everyone’s armor. Each one is cracking, growing worse with each rumor, insult, and lie that’s being thrown.

                But it’s slowly getting fixed with the proper use of good words. Random compliments, smiles, a kiss or two, and other things that make you sigh nostalgically just thinking about them. Each time a compliment is said, your armor mends together, leaving behind a faint line…

                A faint line that can turn into a bigger one, big enough for you to fall through, thinks Adele a bit bitterly. She sits with her legs crossed in the uncomfortable auditorium chair reading a history book that she has somehow managed to sneak in without anyone noticing, much. The room starts to darken and everyone turns down their volume a bit, for the show is going to start soon. She notices and puts the book away for it is no use reading in the dark. Her eyes start to roam the dark theater, a worrying feeling starting to form in the pit of her stomach as she wonders where Tucker may have gone. Finally, her eyes settle on the door in which they have come in earlier this evening waiting for his reappearance. Five, ten, fifteen more minutes have passed and there was still no sign of Tucker. By now, the play has started, the orchestra pit playing its deadly melody as onstage two young lovers run away from something unknown.

                “Where are you?” she says out loud, instantly being shushed. She sighs, and turns her gaze back to the stage silently watching the scene unfold out before her; all the while worrying.

                The scene ends with one of the young lovers holding the other lover’s dead hand on a balcony near a tower with a pointy end. Then came, intermission, startling Adele when she heard the voice announcing it. She yawns and stretches her arms and look around at the now bright theater. Tucker still hasn’t come back and she wonders if he has decided to abandon her. She laughs nervously at that thought quickly dismissing it but anger starts to bloom anyways.

                “He wouldn’t abandon me, h-he’s too nice to do that anyways,” she says to herself. It is nearing the end of intermission and now she really does think that Tucker has abandoned her. She sighs and starts to wonder why. The music starts up again and as Adele was settling in a bit to watch the rest of the play, she feels a tap on her bare shoulder. She looks behind her wondering who would have done it, only finding people immersing themselves with the play. So she turns back to see the lone lover writing a letter in an antique desk.

                She sighs slightly remembering her mother tell her about the letters that her father has written to her when he had to go on a long journey somewhere. Causing someone to squeeze her hand comfortingly; startled she looks up at the person who could have squeezed it.

                “Tucker?” she says out loud, getting shushed again. He smiles down at her, his eyes looking a bit bloodshot. His face more pale than fair, his carefully gelled hair looks slightly rumpled, and his body was shaking a bit as if he was cold. Relief flooded her veins quickly followed by worry. “W-what happened?” she whispers. He wouldn’t answer; he just squeezed her hand again and returned his gaze back to the play. Thoughts started to crowd her mind, distracting her. She dismisses them turning her eyes back to the play not really attention to the lone lover and her antics.

It wasn’t until the ending in which the lone lover and her new love died, that Adele truly cried for the play. All the while, Tucker tries in vain to comfort her with his frivolous ways. Only it didn’t seem to be enough, he felt broken by what he saw earlier. And just thinking about telling Adele the reason he was late filled him with a sense of dread that threatened to break his already damaged unbreakable state. 

Fear

Today's story~

                I was scared and alone in the unfamiliar room. Everything including my brain ached, but it was mostly my heart. I was starting to regret the choice of telling Nathanial to go home because it wasn’t his fight, or even his problem to deal with. It was mine. Little did I know that when I took him to this time period with me, which it was every much as his problem, as it is mine. Just thinking about Nathanial made my heart twist uncomfortably, as I realize he won’t come back ever again. And I have to get out of this place, before, before they do anything this place, somehow making it out of this place without him, which might be impossible.

                I groan, and close my eyes trying to keep the flood of memories from enclosing in on me. There was possibly every kind of knife and gun in the whole world in this room, filed with countless other of torture weapon that you can think of. I was scared, feeling it in my very bones. I was afraid that the weapons were going to turn in on m, regardless if they were handled with invisible hands or not. And the first was most likely that cleaved half moon blade shining carefully in its ceiling post, which was just over my neck.

                I was going to die, with no way of getting Little Mercy back, or even finding out where Nathanial is. My memories were all of what’s going to be left of me. Memories of where I try to avoid the knives and other pointy stuff thrown by Little Nate.  And little by little, the cuts were turning worse and worse, and a bit bloodier, and bloodier. Memories of where I can hear Little Mercy screaming in pain, from unknown dangers as well as the constant danger. And the memory of that simple little kiss that Nathanial gave me before he walked out of my life forever.

                I can feel the tears falling down, and I close my eyes, breathing in and out, steadily trying to calm my breathing. I waited each second, waiting for the blade to come down. Darkness was all I can see, and all I will see. I wondered what mother and father will look like once I’m in their arms again. Would they still be happy, to see me, would they also be sad to realize that Little Mercy and Nate aren’t with me? Random thoughts were just rolling in my mind, till I heard a faint sound. Footsteps. 

Another Adele story (Wed.'s story)

This is probably going to be an Adele week, because her story is mostly what I can think about this week. Well here it is.

                I was tired and I know I should go back to the a-part-mint, but I couldn’t. I just had to find out what has happened to Little Mercy and Nate, at least for a little while longer. Or else, I might not get to know what really happened back then, and if I didn’t then it means that I can’t change the future properly. There will still be slaves, and… I shake my head forcing myself to pay attention. One more chapter, I thought to myself, and then I’m done for the night.

                During the 1860’s, it was a time of…

                I black out, sleep finally catching up to my tired body. I wake up sometime later, my body feeling as if it was floating through the clouds. I open an eye to see where I was, wondering if I’ll see the odd swirls on the ceiling. Only it wasn’t the swirls that I wasn’t looking at it was skin, white skin, very familiar white skin. I see Tucker’s Adam’s apple bob up and down nervously as he must have realized that I woke up. He looked down at me, and I smile at him.

“I’m awake so, you know you can put me down now,” I say suddenly feeling a bit squirmy about being carried around like an infant.

“What not even a hello first?” he says chuckling nervously, complying with my command.

“Thank you,” I say feeling a bit wobbly when my feet touch the sidewalk, Tucker’s hand on the small of my back, keeping me steady. I look around the cold harvest day, the wind blowing softly around me. I shivered, must have forgetting my jacket back at his place. Memories started to come back to me, as I remembered my past. Memories that will take a while to settle back into place, in this smoke filled city.

“You’re welcome, and here,” says Tucker quickly putting his jacket onto my shoulders. I smile appreciatively, and allow him to take me to his fast moving, station wagon. As I start to distract myself, as to why they call it a station wagon anyways, if it doesn’t actually look like one. It was a quite walk full of the usual city noise, once we reach it; he opens my door for me. I pause before going in, unsure of something.

“What scared of the ghosts that reside in it?” he says in a joking manner. I flinch, tears gathering in my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Adele it was a joke,” he says hurriedly, concern cornering his voice.

“I-It’s okay, and…” I pause unsure of what to say, “And thank you for everything.” I quickly get into the car before he sees the teardrop on my cheek.

Treading on Water

Yay now I'm finally caught up. Still a bit of Adele's story this time around the beginning, the last one was probably around the middle.

                Father always said to never tread on water, because no matter what it will never work. But mother says tread on water anyways because in the end it will be worth it. And so that’s what I did for the rest of my life, and that was tread on water. Just like what mother is always doing, but just like what father said it ain’t working. Even the treading on water was starting to become harder when Little Mercy and Nate were born on June 24, 1847. That was when my life started to become as, father would say survival for the fittest, when I overheard his and Nate’s hunting talks. And it was hard to survive when he always did some stuff that caused Little Mercy and me to be scared.  It was harder still, when no one believed Little Mercy or me that it was Nate doing it. Especially if he was the one that caused all the small cuts on my arm, saying that I had some emotional problem. Saying that I should be put in a place where they put crazy people because I also ‘did it’ to Little Mercy’s arms when I didn’t have enough.

                But I was still here, still treading on water, still trying to keep Little Mercy and me alive from Nate. With no one helping us, all because of the lies that Little Nate told.

                “A-Addie?” whispered Little Mercy one night.

                “Yes, Little Mercy?” I whisper back. We were both afraid, afraid of waking him up, and getting hurt, but thankfully he can sleep through anything, maybe even through the worst. I mentally slap myself for thinking that way towards my own brother, evil or not, all because we’re still family.

                “I-I’m scared.”

                “I’m scared too, Little Mercy.”

                “But A-Addie this is a different kind of scared. I-I have a weird feeling that something b-bad is going to happen,” she says fear creeping into her voice.

                “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say trying to fall back asleep. But I had a weird feeling that she was right.

                “I-it’s not n-nothing!” she says nearly shrieking.

                “Little Mercy, shush or else...” I trail off not willing to say the worst. “And fine it isn’t just nothing, but let’s hope that something is going to be good. Now good night,” I say quickly.

                “G-good night,” she says quickly snoring softly. I kept awake must of the night, thinking over her words, wondering if it’s good or bad, and if it involved Little Mercy or even Nate somehow. Well the next day we found it, and it wasn’t anything that I ever wanted to experience again.

Yesterday's

What is it about: It's historical fiction, and one of the novel ideas that I'm going to write in the future.
Main Character's Name:Adele *rest I won't unveil till later* 

                It was a quiet night, a night in which I was usually in the sunroom studying. A night where I tried to find out where, what, why, and how Little Mercy and Nate were doing during the American Civil War. It was a time in the American period where that war proved nothing where who should have won, actually lost. And the northerners inevitably lost. That fact crushed me to the core. They should have won, should have freed the slaves of the Confederacy. Only they didn’t because of someone. And that someone is somehow connected to Little Mercy and Nate. And I just had to find him or her, and try to change the history somehow, and make the Union win. If only…

                “You okay Missus?” says Nathanial surprising me once again. I sit up and blink the upcoming tears away; hatred was coursing through my blood. I was surprised at how angry I was with the whole slavery thing.  Especially if it ended up breaking up families, and make them fall apart, such as Nathanial’s.

                “Missus?” he asks again. I sigh and turn around in my chair, so I can face him, he looked handsome as usual, and I was glad that he can’t see my blush in the dim light.

                “Nathanial, please just call me Adele, instead of Missus. It makes me feel like I’m married to someone, in which I’m not,” I say the last part quickly, blushing a bit harder.

                “But it’s against the law for a colored person such as me to call you by your name A- I mean Missus,” and I start to wonder if he’s blushing now too.

                “Fine, if you mustn’t say my name then please call me…  Dame, not Missus or Miss, or anything else that starts with an M,” I say remembering the word from one of my studies.

                “Fine, D-dame, but _{you’ll always be a missus to me},” he says the last part so quietly that I ask him to repeat it again. “N-nothing,” he says quickly and I wonder if it’s possible for him to blush harder, “D-do you n-need anything?”

I think for a minute before replying, “One of those electronic devices that you can type on?”

“You mean a laptop, dame?” he says most likely received to stop talking to me. That made my heart twist a little, but I tried not to show it, I did have important research to do.

“Yes, and Nathanial-” he left before I can even finish my sentence.