The Cry of Her Heart - Historical Fiction

Chapter 3

Here is chapter 3! I hope everyone enjoys it...

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It was as if the air had been sucked out of Vianna's lungs. He had come to evict them - the realization though entirely unexpected also answered the many questions that had invaded her mind from the moment she had first opened the door until now. God help me! Her silent cry was one of despair and grief. She had tried so hard to provide for her son. Yet, cleaning and mending had not earned her as much as she had anticipated. All it took was a few missed payments and... A slight sob escaped her lips. She had prayed that Mr. Gaines would be understanding of her situation, but she should have known differently.

Her soft brown eyes fell upon her son's sleeping form and instantly misted with tears. Jonathan, the love and joy of her life...he had fallen asleep with a roof over his head, and would wake up destitute.

Desperately, Vianna turned to search the eyes of the stranger for a glimmer of compassion and willed her voice to speak, prepared to plead if she must. "Sir, for my son's sake, I beg you to give us a few more weeks. I can get the money for you by then, I promise. Only, I beg you, don't send us away!" The young man's face hardened and remained detached, seemingly unaffected by the hopelessness evident in her gaze.

Vianna dropped her head in defeat and, as the tears began to course unheeded down her cheeks, covered her face with her hands. "Jonathan will die on the streets," She whispered hopelessly. A sob caught in her throat as she continued, "And there is nothing I can do to prevent it."

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She was crying. Not simply a few streaks of moisture, but heartrending sobs from deep within her soul. Why was he doing this? Nathaniel asked himself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He turned away from the figure before him and once again searched his motivation for this encounter. What had she done to deserve this treatment? He questioned. Why was he causing this poor woman such heartache? Poor. The word soured his thoughts and the implications it raised pulled the young man back in time, awakening a memory that, although seemingly forgotten, had guided his actions for the majority of his years.

Nathaniel had been standing on the bank of a nearby lake skipping rocks across the glassy water when his father had spoken the words that would later prove to be extremely influential in his life.

"Be grateful for your position, young man!" He exclaimed to his eight year old boy. "Being wealthy entitles you to things and gives you a position in the community." Mr. Spencer's eyes narrowed and, with a vicious throw, he tossed a smooth rock in the water. He bit out the words. "Poor people deserve their fate. They completely lack the motivation and the intelligence to climb the social ladder and therefore deserve to be exterminated!" With eyes flashing, Nathaniel's father turned to the young boy and, putting his powerful hands on his shoulders, exclaimed with passion. "Destroy them, my son - make that your goal! May our nation go down in the history of the world as the only country to truly eliminate the chaff of society and may it be my son who triumphs!"

Nathaniel's father had died only a few months after their conversation, yet those meaningful words had impacted his son's entire life.

Now, as the young man stood in a ramshackle building, home to a young woman who herself was one of the very poor Nathaniel had vowed to destroy, every remaining ounce of compassion and sympathy disappeared. She deserves her fate! He clenched his teeth, as the anger rose within him. Let her suffer... he would tell her about the general's offer.

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The young man turned and Vianna knew that her hope was gone.

"You have only one option then." His voice was harsh, making the option sound less like a personal choice and much more like a demand.