Blackened Hearts

Chapter 4

Alright, so I wasn't so sure about posting this chapter because of an issue going on with Wattpad stories. Some of you might have heard of the Vietnamese site that has been stealing stories from authors on Watty. I wasn't sure if I should even continue writing if everything I put up is stolen. Buuuuuut I eventually came to the conclusion that it didn't matter much. If they are going to steal my work then eventually it will be stopped. Although I'm going to put date completed at the beginning of each chapter from now on...

And for some reason this chapter keeps showing up as a draft...

On you go little tourists!

Date Completed: 6/12/15

...........................................................................................................................................

You walked down the hall, gleeful. You mother had just done your hair in the hundred braid style as you'd been asking her to do for what felt years. She had carefully used the comb to separate the strands, telling you to just tell her if it hurt. She would ask you after each braid, 'How does this one look?' and you would always reply with a 'Perfect! Next one please!'

Your little bare feet did make much noise as you pattered even faster down the hall.

You ran you hair down the side of your head. They felt like the little bean rows in your garden. You continued skipping along the hall until you were right outside of your parents' room. They were in there talking. Your mother was talking about some coat she found in your grandmother's closet yesterday.

You could hear her talking to your father, their voices fast and joyful. Even as a little girl you could imagine how they looked while talking. Your mother would have her head resting against her hands as she laid on the large bed, talking animatedly. She was very young when she had you, too young your grandparents said. She said that aside from her husband you were the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Your father would be sitting in the rocking chair. His hands would be either folded in his lap or clutching a book. Your mother teased him about it, telling him only old ladies sat in rocking chairs the way he did. The only thing, she said, missing was a set of knitting needles. He would always get just the barest hint of a smile before closing his eyes and listening to her ramble again.

You smiled, they were happy, so you were happy. Today you were getting ready for your mother's birthday with one of your best friends. He was a little bit older than you. He was ten and you were nine. But neither of you really saw the big deal with age. Although... he did say that if you were eight he wouldn't have talked to you, too big of an age gap. You remembered laughing at him for that.

'You're so silly Seph!' you had said. And to you, he was. He even looked a little funny. His father wouldn't let his hair grow much at all, so he was nearly bald. He had always called it a military cut. You remember asking him what color his hair was. You figured it was a light color because you could barely see his eyebrows when the sun shone right. He said he didn't really know and shrugged.