An old man paced in his study. He had silver hair, and a cane to help him stand. His eyes were a striking beautiful blue, and he had those kind of crinkles, right under his eyes, that told you he smiled a lot. But this time, he was not smiling. Tears streaked down his face and his hand closed around a piece of paper.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Uncle?" A voice asked. A five-year-old boy popped his head through the crack in the door. He had his uncle's striking blue eyes and those crinkles too. He was wearing pajamas and his blonde hair was sticking up everywhere. The five-year-old grinned showing a missing tooth in his smile.
The old man faked a smile "What are you doing out of bed?" The little boy frowned. He seemed to know something was wrong. "What's wrong?" He asked. The old man sighed. His nephew could read him like a book. There was no sense in lying to him.
"It...It seems Jasper," The old man began as he walked towards him. "That...your parents..." The old man's voice turned into a whisper until he trailed off. Another tear slid down his face. Jasper's eyes widened with realization. "They, they didn't. No. But...Bonnie...and I. It's not possible." The poor child began to cry. Heartbroken sobs. "I'm so sorry Jasper" His uncle said.
--*--
A sweet melody was heard from a clearing in the forest. If you moved closer to the melody, you would see two children, and an old man. The old man was sitting on the porch steps, playing a guitar, while the two children were playing.
A girl who looked to be the age of three, and a boy who looked to be the age of seven. The little girl had ginger, curly hair that was a bit past her shoulders. The boy had spiked up blonde hair. The two shared the same gorgeous blue eyes.
"Come on, Jasper!" The little girl cried, spinning around. Jasper laughed, running after his sister. Catching up, with his younger sister, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
Suddenly there was a noise somewhere in the trees. The old man stopped playing. The noise was heard again, and out from the trees came a boy, no older then the age of five. He had dark hair. So dark that it was pretty much black. His eyes were brown, a nice chocolate brown. Once he reached the clearing, the young boy collapsed.
The two children ran over to his side, and the old man hurried over too. "What's your name?" the girl asked, sitting beside him. The boy attempted to roll over, but winced and stayed on his stomach. "Eric" he replied.
--*--
The sound of rain can be soothing when going to sleep. The sound of someone banging on the door at three o' clock in the morning is not. An old man, as quickly as he could, walked down the small hallway of the large cabin and to the front door. Not really checking to see who it was, he opened the door.
There stood a woman, and a child. They both shared the same green eyes and light brown straight hair, but the child had glasses, her mother (the old man assumed) did not.
"Oh, please. My daughter. Them...Lysander" The woman spoke very quickly, and with a faint Australian accent. Even though the old man was half asleep he perked up, at the word Lysander.
"Lysander?" He asked. The woman nodded. "I'm Rose, a witch. This is Macy. Please, can you take her, and care for her." At that, the child, Macy (who looked to be about 8) understood what was going on. "No. I'm going with you" Macy said. Then turning to the old man, she added "err...No offence" The child also had an accent. Except her's was thicker.
Rose looked at the old man with desperation. The old man nodded. "Sure. Of course I will" The witch smiling gratefully, crouched down so she was level with her daughter. Macy looked shocked. "Mace. I'm doing this for your own safety. You know what they did to you father..." The eight-year-old swallowed, as if she was trying not to cry, and nodded. Her mother smiled at her, then took off a locket that sat around her neck. It was a nice gold, and had an R in cursive written on it. Rose placed it around Macy's neck, handed her a bag, and gave her a kiss on the top of the head, and with that the witch vanished from sight.
--*--
A trip to town, usually took a certain old man only 10 minutes. 15 at the max. He never got side-tracked. But this day was not like any other, the old man, just did not know it yet. The old man smiled to himself as he left the bakery, a loaf of bread, and some sweets in his bag.
He noticed when he exited the shop, that it started to pour. The old man sighed, and walked on. When suddenly, he heard a sob. It was an uncontrollable sob, he could tell. It was a heartbroken one. He could tell...
The old man, turned around, and saw a child like figure (or a fairly short adult), walking closer to the child, he saw that it was indeed a child. It was a ten-year-old girl. She was sitting on the cold ground, hugging her knees to her chest. The girl seemed to be wearing a dress. It was long, big, and was probably once very beautiful
However now, it was torn, wet, and muddy. It laid, flat on the child's body (as some of the skirt was missing), and had dirt, water, and different stains on it. One, of the stains, looked a lot like blood.
"Err...hello?" the old man said. The girl looked up; her hazel eyes were puffy, and red. Her face was wet, and the old man had a feeling it wasn't because of the rain.
"H-hi" she said shakily, the old man seemed concerned. "Are you alright" Resting her head upon her knees, the 10-year-old broke down crying. "H-he took them. My mother...my father, and my brother" The girl let out another sob. "B-but...I-I hid!" A tear slid down her cheek. "H-he didn't find me"
The old man looked at her, not with pity, but with sympathy, as if he understood what she was going through. "Shh, it's going to be alright" The girl continued to sob, and didn't calm down for awhile.
"It's....It's not fair" She said, looking up with tears in her eyes. The old man looked pained, as if a painful memory was resurfacing.
"Life. Isn't fair" He replied. He offered his hand to the girl (which she gratefully took), and smiled. "Now come along, lets get you all cleaned up"
--*--
"Mother! I'm home!" A voice called out. It rang through their small cottage until the boy heard her call back "I'm in here!" The 11-year-old followed her voice into their tiny kitchen. "I got us some bread." He said lifting the basket that he held slightly. "I also brought those leather elastics Celeste she uses for her hair."
His mother pursed her lips and gestured for her son to sit down at their tiny three-person table. "Milo, we need to talk about your sister." Milo frowned wondering what they needed to talk about. What was wrong with her? Milo found his sister very pretty and kind. Sure she couldn't read or write but most children couldn't. Their parents couldn't afford the supplies needed for real schools and they sure couldn't afford a tutor.
"She's gone." His mother whispered, leaning in a bit. Milo gaped. He was confused.
His sister loved it here. She loved the sunrises and the stray cats. She loved playing games with Milo and helping her mother with dinner. When suddenly it dawned on him. "You sold her." He acused. His mother's face fell, that's what gave it away. "You sold her to some creepy old man." His voice began to get slightly louder.
"Milo I- we needed the money." She said, as if that was any excuse. "Who's next?" He asked. "Me?" The woman looked appalled. "Are you going to ship me off to war?"
He remembered a conversation his mother and the neighbour had a couple days ago regarding selling Celeste. But he never thought she'd actually do it.
"Milo it isn't like that." She replied a sad look on her face. "Then what is it like?" He snapped. "Because it seems like the only person you care about around here is yourself." She was so shocked by the boy's words that she stayed frozen as she watched him walk out the door. She waited everyday for him to return, but he didn't.
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Hello everyone! Cookie0891 here! I am pleased to announce after deleting and editing and changing and viewing my stories that I am starting a new one! This one I have had in my head for a year possibly even two. I actually have this story planned out instead of just diving in head first so hopefully it won't be abandoned and I can keep you all on your toes!
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~Cookie0891
YOU ARE READING
Taken
Fantasy"The book told stories of how the world used to be overrun with monsters. Vampires and werewolves and demons. Trolls and goblins and witches. Until the rebel tribes were created. Ordinary people trained to protect the world. The work was dangerous a...
