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[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life pt. 10

Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse 

There it was a ticket for the Titanic was in her hand. She was holding her way out. Then, as fast as the hope came, reality set in. 

“Lara, I can’t possibly take this.” Claire insisted. 

“Of course, you can Claire.” Lara replied. 

“But this is too much. You obviously bought this for yourselves. Use it.” Claire was trying to hand the ticket back.  

“Claire, it’s not going to be used by us. We were going to use it to move to New York so Jacque could set up his own practice. However, my grandmother has fallen on her death bed and I can’t leave her now. You know how close she and I are. So, Jacque has graciously agreed to postpone moving and setting up his practice. At least for the time being.” Lara explained. 

“I thought Jaque had to take over the family business. How can he do that in New York?” Claire inquired. Hoping she could change the subject matter. 

“Well, eventually he will. His parents are reluctant to have him leave England. He had to make a deal with them.” She explained as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He can go to New York,” she stated, “But he must do so with his own money. Then, when the day comes, he must return to England to take care of the family business. That is why the “second-class” ticket.” Lara explained. 

“So, you were just going to up and move? Without telling me?” Claire knew this trick would work. She hated manipulating her friend, but the subject matter had to change. 

“Claire. No, I wasn’t going to leave without telling you. How could you even think that?” Lara questioned. “These plans have been in motion for a while. I wasn’t going to tell you until things were finalized. When my grandmother fell deathly ill, we had to change plans. So, I didn’t tell you. Don’t think I have forgotten the whole point. The ticket is yours. Please say you’ll use it.” Lara pointed out.  

Claire couldn’t contain all the emotions nor the questions she had no answer to anymore. “But how can I possibly do this?” She said as she quickly rose to her feet. “I have nothing packed, no money and nowhere to go when I get there.” She hadn’t noticed that she was shouting and pacing across the floor. 

“Well, Claire, if you would sit back down and breathe, I would be happy to go over all of that.” Lara gestured to the seat beside her. Claire was too nervous to sit but she did stop pacing. “Now, Bradley is at work, yes?” Claire nodded. “Good. We can go over there pack a trunk and you can stay here for the night. Then, we wake up early and take you to the docks tomorrow morning.” 

“But what happens when Bradley gets home and sees that I’m not there. This is the first place he’ll go to look for me.” Claire said through the tears and short painful breaths. 

“Well, he simply won’t be able to find you darling.” Lara said with a slight grin. “Follow me.” Lara said, reaching out her hand and grabbing the hurricane lamp off the table with the other. 

Claire grabbed her friend's hand and followed her up the stairs to where the guest bedrooms were. They passed all the black and white to sepia photographs leading to the paintings of the St. Du Bois line. Each hanging in a golden frame that set against the emerald walls. As they climbed the stairs Claire’s eyes dried and her breath grew calmer. 

“Ah, this is it.” Lara said, stopping abruptly in front of a bookshelf. “Now where is it?” she asked waving her fingers across the many book titles while holding the light with her other hand. “Ah, here it is!” She proclaimed as she stopped her finger over Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein.” “Let’s see pull twice and.” As Lara pulled the book a second time a loud clicking sound sprang from behind the shelf making it ajar from the wall.  

Claire couldn’t believe her eyes. She had heard of older homes having secret rooms and stairways but had never seen them in person before. 

“Oh my god! A secret room?” Claire asked flabbergasted. 

“Yes!” Lara replied. “These stairs lead up to the attic where there is a secret space. So secret, in fact, that you cannot tell that it’s there even from standing in the attic itself. I have always wanted to use it and now seems like the right time and purpose.” Lara pulled the shelf away from the wall to reveal the staircase behind it. “Shall we?” Lara asked. 

Claire was in too much shock and wonder to even think about hesitating. They climbed the narrow stairwell up to the secret room. Lara took out the two different keys and unlocked both a lock above and below the doorknob.  

Claire couldn’t believe her eyes. This room was spacious, well-lit with golden sconces and decorated to the nines. There was a bed big enough for the king himself, a sitting area and three bookshelves that were built into the walls. Just like the walls below, this room too, had the emerald green and gold aesthetic. 

“Lara this is. I can’t. Wow.” Claire knew more words but couldn’t seem to express them at that moment.  

“Claire, I know things right now seem scary and uncertain. But” Lara sat the lamp down to grab her friend’s hands, “my dear friend don’t think about the right now and start thinking about the future. What will happen if you stay?” She asked. But before Claire could answer, Lara answered, “Yes, there is a possibility that he could change. It is very small and most likely will not ever happen. What happens if he takes it too far next time? What if you don’t wake up?” she asked, trying not to let her friend know how upset she truly was. “I would be so lost if you left me here.” They were both starting to cry, again. “Claire, you are my best friend. Don’t be afraid to leave. Be afraid to stay.” Lara said looking into Claire’s watery eyes. 

“Lara. I still don’t...” Claire started. 

“Claire, please do this for me!” Lara broke as she lost all the sense of dignity that she had had up till this moment. “I can’t bear to watch you die! Not when there was something I could do to stop it!” Lara embraced Claire in a hug. “Please Claire! He’ll kill you and I can’t!” 

“Lara, I’ll be okay.” Claire said softly as she wrapped her arms around her distraught friend as she started to cry harder than before. 

“No!” Lara Screamed. “No, Claire you won’t!” Lara’s voice was booming, her words broken by sobs and erratic breaths. “Claire, please, please do this for me. Okay? This weekend was too close! You say you’ll be okay, but you won’t be! You’re too special to die! So, please? Please? You’re my best friend and I won’t be able to live with myself!”  

Claire could not deny her friends anymore. “Okay, Okay,” she whispered her agreement. “But we still have things to iron out.” 

“That’s fair.” Laura said through her sobs as she and Claire released each other. “What else is there to iron out?” She asked as they made their way to the small sitting area. 

As they sat on the couch Claire began to think about everything all at once.  

“Well, I have the ticket, the room and we can get my clothes. But what about the after? I will still have no money and no place to go once the ship gets to New York.” Claire stated. 

“Claire, we have thought of that too.” Lara proclaimed proudly. “Jacque and I have already purchased the new manor in New York City. Until my grandmother passes, we will need someone to help keep the house organized.” She pointed out. “There will be a small handful of butlers and maids, so you won’t have to do much. And we would be glad to have you live with us for a time. We have also set you up with a bank account that has two-thousand American dollars in it.” Lara explained. 

“Wow you two have seriously thought this through.” Claire exclaimed. “This is still a lot to take in. In just one single afternoon, I am just to change everything.” 

“Yes, but what you are leaving behind is better left in the past.” Lara said. 

“Well then. Do you have the time?” Claire asked. 

Lara pulled on the golden chain that her watch was attached to. The time was a little past ten in the morning. Claire knew that if this was going to happen, they needed to go now.   

They rode to Claire’s house in a nice horse-drawn carriage. Lily was brought along to help speed up the process of packing. As they rode Claire could not ignore the knots in her stomach and the thought racing through her head. What am I doing? This can’t be happening. What if I fail in New York? What if he’s right and I can’t make it without him? Who will love me now? Is it, really, as bad as it seems? Claire knew the answer to that one but was still afraid of the truth. 

Suddenly, Claire felt Lara’s hand grab her own. As if her friend knew that she was a nervous wreck. Claire could breathe and relax a little with this simple gesture from her friend.  

They reached Claire’s house and chills hit their bodies. Bradley was standing at the door. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A new Life Pt. 9

Trigger Warning:  Domestic Abuse/Violence and Depression 

Tuesday, April 8th, 1912 

The alarm clock on Claire’s night table went off signaling that it was 5a.m. Her clock always went off before Bradley’s. This way she could shower, get dressed, do her hair, apply her make-up and get breakfast ready by the time Bradley came down the stairs. But this morning, this morning all Claire could do for a minute or two was stare out her window. Thinking about her life. What had brought her to this point, if Bradley would ever go back to the way he used to be? If she would live to see old age? But she knew she must carry on. This was easier now that the headache was gone. 

Claire got up and immediately hopped into the shower. She let the warm water wash over her. Even though the water felt nice on her eye and on her ribs, Claire washed herself quickly. She combed out her long brown hair with her fingers making sure her hair was clean and immediately got out.  

God save me if there is not enough hot water for Bradley this morning. Claire thought to herself. I want him to be happy with me. 

Claire dried herself off quickly and stood in front of the full-length mirror to examine herself. She could see fully just how bruised she was. The color of bruises on her chest matched her eye. When she had had enough and couldn’t look anymore, she wrapped her hair in a towel and made her way to the armoire. She was going to Lara’s this morning so she grabbed her finest dress to put on. It was a rose pink with white lace at the collar, white cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves adorned with gold buttons and ruffles at the hem of the dress.  

Claire started getting dressed as usual with all the layers. Although when it came to the corset, she still couldn’t tighten it all the way due to her ribs. So, she left it a little loose. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up and over her arms then zipped up the front of the dress. She liked this type of dress that she could zip in the front. It meant that she wouldn’t have to wake Bradley to help her dress. That never ended well. 

Claire took her seat at the vanity and unwrapped the towel that had helped dry her hair and keep in place while she dressed. After her hair fell to its place, Claire took the towel and grabbed different places; making sure that most of the moisture had been taken out of her hair. She brushed out any tangles and knots that were hiding and began styling her updo. Before long, her hair was in a fashionable updo that all of society woman wore.  

She had had a good pace at this point when she grabbed her make-up brush. She dabbed the brush in the powdered foundation and blew the excess off. But right when she was about to apply the first stroke, she saw her eye. That’s right. Claire thought. My eye. She grabbed some white powder that helped set her make-up and applied it with a puff over her eye. Wiping away any excess that was left behind. When she was happy with how it looked, she applied the foundation. Claire wouldn’t try to put an overage of make-up on this morning. Whatever would do, would do.  

Claire finished her make-up. The black eye was still noticeable. No amount of make-up was truly going to hide one. She stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t know the person staring back at her. She wouldn’t admit it but she found comfort in that fact. Being detached meant that she could excuse Bradley’s behavior. That she could carry on. She took one last deep look in the mirror and got up to leave. 

Claire made her way into their bedroom and looked at the clock. It wasn’t time for Bradley’s alarm to go off so he was still asleep. She loved to watch him sleep. He looked calm and peaceful. He looked like the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. No time for gazing. Claire thought. He will be up any minute and I need to have his breakfast ready. 

The morning routine Claire knew by heart. Clean out ashes and refill with fresh firewood. She put the cast iron skillet on the stove top to heat up with the oven. While those were heating up, she would cut the grapefruits in half, juice the oranges and set the table. She knew Bradley wouldn’t mind eating at the dinette table again because this is where they normally had breakfast. By the time she had finished setting the table the oven and stove top where nice and hot. After she laid the raw bacon to cook, Claire put the slices of bread in the oven to cook. Once all the bacon was done, she put them on a plate and took out the toast. Last was the eggs, which she would cook over easy in the left-over bacon grease.  

Claire had just finished preparing Bradley’s plate when he walked through the kitchen door. 

“Good morning, Claire.” Bradley greeted with a smile and a hug. “I trust you slept well.”  

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Claire responded, embracing his hug and kissing his cheek. “I did.”  

“How are you feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat down to begin eating his breakfast. 

“A lot better. My ribs are still sore, but a lot of my constitution has returned and my head doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“Is there no coffee this morning?” Bradley asked. 

“I’m sorry dear. No, there isn’t any. We ran out the other day and I haven’t gone shopping yet.” Claire clarified. “I’ll pick some up after Lara and I have our tea time.” 

“That’s my girl. Thinking ahead. But about this tea time with Lara,” Bradley said directing the conversation to his new point. “I don’t like it. I wish you would cancel. You know she doesn’t like me and if she hears about the other night.” Claire’s body went cold. 

“What would I tell her dear? I fell down the stairs and that is all that happened.” Claire said reassuring Bradley that she wouldn’t talk. 

“That’s right.” That was the last thing Bradley said before finishing his breakfast. 

The walk to Lara’s was spent in silence. Only speaking when they happened to meet a neighbor's gaze. Claire felt everyone staring at her. Her black eye still showing, giving them evidence of an unspoken tragedy. Before she knew it, they had arrived Lara’s ornamental gate. Bradley wrapped Claire in hug. 

“Remember, not a word.” Bradley threatened. 

“A word about what dear?” Claire calmly responded. 

“That’s my girl!” Bradley whispered in her ear. 

With a kiss on the cheek Claire waved her husband off, “Have a good day at work sweetheart!”  

Claire made her way through the gate and up to the dark green double doors. Before she could grab the golden lion door knocker the doors flew open. There stood Lily, Lara’s most trusted maid, greeting her. 

“Welcome Mrs. Laurant! Mrs. Du Bois is waiting for you at the table in the sun room. Shall I lead you?” Lily asked politely. Claire always enjoyed hearing lily speak. Her voice was soft and melodic. If she had ever become a singer, she would be world famous. 

“No, thank you. I know my way by now.” Claire said, generous for the offer Lily had given. 

Claire turned right walked into the dining room, left into the kitchen and a right through the sunroom doorway. There waiting for her was Lara in a fancy robin’s egg blue dress with white gloves that went up past her elbow. On the table sat a three-tier white plates with blueberry scones on the bottom plate, cucumber sandwiches on the middle plate and lemon squares on the top tier. All of Claire’s favorites. 

“Hello Claire, Darling!” Lara was ecstatic to see friend. So, ecstatic in fact she wrapped Claire in a gentle hug. “Oh, please tell me that wasn’t too hard! After yesterday....” 

“You’re fine Lara!” Claire said, reassuring her friend. “Are you ready to discuss ‘The Scarlett Pimpernel?” Claire asked as they sat at the table. 

“Yes. But before we do I need to talk to you.” Lara said in a low voice. “Claire what happened the other night?” 

“What do you mean, ‘What happened the other night?’ I fell down the...” 

“Claire, I know you didn’t fall down the stairs.” Lara interrupted firmly. “He beat you again, didn’t he?” 

“What are you talking about?” Claire asked, trying to laugh off the question. 

“Honey, can you come out here please?” Lara called out. Then by some magic Jacque appeared from behind her. 

“Claire please don’t be mad but I asked Jacque to look into your injuries.” Lara said. Claire tried to interject, but was quickly shot down by Lara raising her hand. 

“Claire. Your injuries do not match those of a person falling down the stairs.” Lara’s eyes were starting to water. “He beat you. I know he beat you! My husband and your doctor know he beat you! And yes, my dear friend; the neighbors know he beat you.” Lara dabbed away the tear that was rolling down her cheek with handkerchief that her husband gave her. “Claire what happened the other night?” 

Claire took a deep sigh, “It was my fault. You see, he left for the day to go to the tracks with his friends. He told me, warned me! That I needed to have dinner on the table by five-o-clock. Which, I did. But he didn’t return home until eight-o-clock drunk as a mule. By that time the food was cold and the wine wasn’t chilled. He swayed to the dining room knock over pictures as he went.” 

“That explains the broken picture frame!” Lara interrupted. “But how did blood get on picture?” 

“I was taking the picture out when I cut my hand. That is when Bradley discovered that the food was cold. I ran into the dining room and that is where things took a turn for the worst. I tried to leave him be but he followed me out into the living room where he grabbed me, shook me and ultimately throwing onto the table. I knock the vase off the table and I don’t remember anything after that.” Claire couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Jacque figured this might happened and handed her the extra handkerchief he had in his pocket. 

“Jacque, please pour Claire a cup of tea.” Lara asked her husband.  

“Thank you.” Claire said to Jacque as she took the cup from his hand. 

“Claire, darling you must get out.” Lara said firmly. 

“How?” Claire screamed as she stood quickly. “I have no money, no family and no place to go.” She was frantic at this point and started to pace. “I know he manages a bank but that doesn’t mean that we, that I have anything to leave with. He handles all the money and the only reason we have that car is because he won it in a raffle.”  

Lara quickly embraced her friend. “Don’t worry Claire. I have a plan.” She said as tears rolled down her face as well. 

Claire finished crying into Lara’s shoulder. Both Lara and Claire dried their eyes and made their way to the sitting room. 

Lara and Claire sat on the white chez lounge and wiped away the remains of the tears.  

“Claire. We have something for you. Darling, did you find the envelope?” Lara called out. 

“Yes, my love.” Jacque said as he came into the room. “It was on the kitchen counter next to the sink.” Jacque handed the envelope to Claire. 

 Claire opened the envelope and couldn’t believe her eyes. In her hand was a second-class ticket for the Titanic. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life pt 8

Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse/Violence

Titanic: A New Life pt. 8.  Trigger warning Domestic Abuse and Mental Anguish. 

Bradley shut the door behind Lara. Almost a little too hard but he could blame it on the wind if he had to.  

Bradley walked into the living room and made eye contact with Claire. “She’s right, you know. Drink your tea and have a couple of biscuits. You should start to feel better enough in time to fix dinner.” He said to Claire as he sat back down in his favorite armchair.  

“Dinner? Honey, surely sandwiches would do. Please, just for tonight. I am in so much pain.” Claire told Bradley, almost pleading. For this was true, now that Claire was home all the exhaustion and pain seemed to multiply. Her head still felt as if an axe had been buried in the back of it while the pain of the black swollen eye made her face feel like it was throbbing. With each breath she took her bruises and fractured ribs pushed against her corset, sending shockwaves of pain through her chest. 

“Now Claire, you’re the woman!” Bradley said sternly. “Therefore, it’s your job to feed the husband. I will give you time to fortify yourself with tea and a little time for rest. But by the end of the hour dinner had better be started.” Bradley explained, trying to show the little sympathy that he was capable of.  

Well, I guess that promise will not hold this time either. Claire thought to herself. But I am in so much pain, how will I cook? What will I cook? How long will... Claire’s thoughts were racing. 

“Well?” Bradley said, snapping Claire out of her downward spiral of thoughts. 

“Yes dear. I’ll get up by the end of the hour and start cooking.” Claire agreed. Bradley grabbed a biscuit and his tea and made his way up to his study. Claire looked at the black marble mantel clock and the time read, “4:30.” Okay that gives me just enough time to finish my tea and only have one biscuit. By that time, I should have fifteen minutes to try and rest a little. Claire thought trying to reassure herself. She finished tea and a biscuit and rested for a bit before. 

*DING, DONG, DONG, DING, BWONG, BWONG...* The grandfather clock sounded the alarm that it was now five-o-clock and dinner had to be started. It was all Claire could do to get up off the couch. Her head throbbing with each beat of her heart. She placed her hand to her forehead and contemplated, how am I going to cook dinner when I can barely stand. No! Get up! No matter how much pain you are in Bradley’s wrath will be worse.  

Claire willed herself into the kitchen step by step. I made it to the kitchen. She thought triumphantly. Now get to the ice box. Claire stepped closer and closer to the white ice box they had that stood next to the far end of the counter. There waiting for her was a wrapped piece of paper held in place by the silver handle. 

“My darling Claire, 

No doubt that Bradley has ordered you to cook “his” dinner for the evening. Knowing full well that you were still hurting. So, I took the liberty to prepare your dinner ahead of time. Inside you will find a butter marinated chicken in a pan ready to cook. On the stovetop there is a cast iron pot with green beans cleaned and stemmed green beans already in water. There is wine in here as well. Chilled and ready for serving. It is from my husband's private collection. Sh! We cleaned the wood and ash compartments and put fresh firewood in there for you.  All you have to do is cook everything. I hoped this helped. 

Love Always,       Lara” 

Postscript. There was a broken picture frame with blood on it sitting beside the sink. I took the liberty of saving the picture and throwing out the frame. The picture is on the dinette table by the corner. 

Claire couldn’t believe what she was reading. She took out her handkerchief and dapped her watery eyes. Such a sweetheart. Claire thought. With this note Claire felt rejuvenated and started working on dinner.  

Claire walked over and opened the junk drawer and took out her box of matches. She pulled one out and began to roll it between her fingers. Claire knew that she would need something to start the fire, so, she made her way to the old brown maple dinette table and found the picture. This picture is ruined due to the blood. I can’t save it. Look at him though. He was such a good man! Wait, he’s still a good man. He just has a lot on him right now and I’m not making things any better. I’ll just take care of this picture. Claire was pacing, struggling and didn’t truly know if she wanted to use this picture to start a fire. Before she knew it, she had stopped pacing right in front of her oven. Fine. Claire thought. She tore the picture up as she knelt to open the black stove fire door. Before she had time to change her mind, Claire threw the scraps into the pit, stroked the match against the oven side and threw it on top of the scraps and wood. Slowly it started to set the kindling and logs on fire. She sat there for a moment and watched the picture scraps burn. As they burned Claire’s hope and future burned with them. 

Once the oven and stove top were hot Claire went to grab the chicken from the ice box to cook. This was challenging to say the least because her ribs hurt with the pulling, lifting and carrying the heavy metal tray. But Claire wouldn’t complain. It was less than she would have to do if Lara had not prepared everything ahead of time. Once the chicken and the green beans were cooking Claire looked at the kitchen wall clock. “5:20” This would mean that dinner would be done by six-o-clock and Bradley would be proud of her. 

 Claire grabbed the bottle of red wine from the ice box and poured herself a glass. Red wines were her favorite and Lara knew this. She rarely enjoyed this though because Bradley enjoyed white wines. Claire allowed herself to take a good slow sip and enjoyed the aged flavors that danced across her tongue. Mmm, Merlot! Claire thought as she took another small sip. She set her glass on the dinette table and started collecting the plates, silverware and glasses to set the table for dinner.   

When Claire had finished setting the table and half of the glass of wine, she noticed the clock. It was almost six. Setting the table and enjoying her glass of wine took longer than usual because of the pain. The alcohol had helped ease her head, although, not by much.  

Claire rushed, as fast as her injuries would allow, back to the oven to check on the chicken. Perfectly golden brown. She grabbed a nearby towel and took the chicken out of the oven. Good, now for the beans. Claire thought. Knowing that it hurt, Claire took a deep breath and began moving the heavy cast iron pot off the stove. Claire took as deep a breath as she could manage and carried the hot pot to the sink. She had to sit the pot on the counter beside the sink for a moment to catch her breath before straining them in the sink. 

The green beans she added to a simple white bowl with green filigree around the brim. Claire neatly carved the chicken breast into slices, cut away legs and thighs, pulled off the wings and arranged the pieces into an enticing look that almost appeared like a professional's handy work. Moving the bowl and chicken to the dinette table, Claire made sure everything was in order: Food in the middle of the table for easy grabbing, plates set so we can face each other, silverware and napkins set and the wine pour... Claire had forgotten to pour his wine. She poured the wine filling his glass and topping off hers. There. It wasn’t easy but Claire had done it. 

“Bradley. Sweetheart! Dinner is ready!” Claire yelled from the kitchen.  

“I’m sitting at the table Claire. I don’t see food.” Bradley proclaimed from the dining room. 

Claire made her way through the swinging door as fast as she could manage in her condition. She saw Bradley sitting at his spot, head of the table, waiting to be served. 

“Oh, I’m sorry dear. The dinette table in the kitchen is already set for dinner. I thought after the past two days we could enjoy dinner sitting closer to each other.” Claire said hopefully. 

“Well, I guess.” Bradley said on the breath of deep sigh that gave away his first sign of becoming frustrated. 

“Good.” Claire said with a wide smile. “Follow me and we will sit down and eat. 

“I know where I’m going.” Bradley snapped pushing his way past her. 

“Yes, of course you do darling.” Claire said hanging her head apologetically.  

“Do not call me “Darling.” Bradley said bluntly. Turning around to face her pointing his finger at her. “Dear” and “Sweetheart” are fine. But never “Darling.” Bradley snarled, turning back on her. 

“Yes, sorry dear.” Claire said, her head still hung forward. She was too scared to look up in fear of seeing what may have been coming. 

Bradley turned back into the kitchen and made his way to the dinette table. Claire followed behind making no noise, as if she were not there at all.  

Bradley began to fill his plate with green beans and chicken. “What no dinner rolls.” He commented.  

Claire noticed that she, nor Lara, had not prepped rolls, all she could do was to try and pacify him. “I am sorry Bradley. I did not think...” 

“No. Obviously not.”  Bradley interrupted. “What could possibly be the reason for forgetting the rolls?” 

“My head is still fuzzy from yesterday and I am sure we are out of yeast.” Claire said in the faint cry of a whisper. 

“No yeast huh?” Bradley said standing from his seat. He made his way to the cupboard that held their baking needs and there it was clear as crystal, “Yeast” in a small jar. Bradley threw the small jar at Claire slamming and breaking against the wall. Nearly missing Claire’s face.  

“There is your yeast. Have my damn bread next time. If you cannot use that buy some tomorrow!” Bradley said as he made his way back to his seat. “No bread.” He murmured as he slammed back down into his seat.  

Bradley sampled a piece of the sliced chicken breast resting on his plate. “Pass the gravy for this dry chicken.” 

“What?” Claire asked, confused. 

“The gravy! Pass the gravy!” Bradley said over exaggerating each word. Samming his down on the table with each word; and with each hit the table jolted shaking the plates, silverware, glasses and Claire’s nervous system. 

“I am sorry dear. There is no gravy.” Claire said in shock. 

“No gravy she says. Ha, no gravy.” Bradley says smiling hanging his head shaking it back and forth. 

Bradley grabs the dinette set on each side and jolted himself upward. “No gravy! No bread! What fucking good are you?” His eyes were almost black, and foam had formed in the left corner of his mouth. Spraying Claire as he yelled at her. 

“Bradley, please!” Claire begged as tears started to pool in her eyes. 

“Bradley, please! Bradley please what?!” He screamed as he flipped over the dinette table sending everything flying. Plates, bowls and glasses shattering on the floor. Wine and food scattering out as if it had been shot out of a cannon onto the floor.  

“You piece of shit woman! You have one damn job!” He was towering over her at this point causing Claire to throw her hands up in front of her face out of fear. Bradley grabbed her wrists forced them apart making Claire look at him. 

 “Cook my damn food the way it’s supposed to be cooked! Choaking on this fucking dry chicken with no gravy. No bread to help fill my stomach!” He had thrown her wrist away from each other. He grabbed her face with his left hand and forcibly turned it to the mess on the floor. “Now look!” Pointing with his right hand to the spilled food. “There is a mess on my floor! Food gone to waste because of your negligence!”  

Before Claire could respond Bradley had let go of her face. He grabbed her blouse with left hand and slapped her across her, already bruised and sore, right eye with the back of his right. This whited out Claire’s vision in that eye. Bradley threw her to the floor towards the mess, paying no mind to the broken plates, glass or cutlery that were there. “Clean this shit up! I am grabbing a beer and going to bed.” Bradley said as he walked over to the ice box, grabbed his beer and walked out of the kitchen. 

In a numb haze Claire cleaned the mess on the floor and made her way to bed. Though she had not paid attention to it at the time, Claire was grateful to be numb. She fell sleep staring out the slightly opened window without noticing the pain that would have seized her body. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life Pt. 7

Lara was not like most First Class people. She was sweet woman who had married quite wealthy. Her husband, Jacque St. Du Bois, was a doctor from a very well-off family. They had made their wealth in the diamond mines of Africa a century ago but had never forgotten their humble beginnings. Jacque would one day take over his family’s wealth and empire but enjoyed practicing medicine. Lara was a nurse that was working with Jacque not long after he had graduated from Oxford Medical School. Claire had met Lara in the library one day by accident. They were both reaching for the only copy of “Little Women.” They began a conversation about how it was their favorite book. The rest was history after that. 

Before Claire knew it, she was wrapped in a hug so tight that it hurt so immensely that it took her breath away. Lara released her at the sound of a faint cry that had managed to escape Claire’s lips.  

“Fallen down the stairs! How simply tragic!” Lara said, dabbing the tear from her eye from her handkerchief. “I thought I had lost you!” 

“No, I am still alive.” Claire responded trying to comfort her still crying friend. “How did you find out? Bradley was with me the whole time.” 

“Oh dear, don’t you remember? We were supposed to meet up to discuss ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’ last night.” Claire had forgotten they it was their book night. “When I came upon your house, I found Bradly loading you into an ambulance. He told me you had fallen down the stairs. He gave me your guest key and asked me to lock up the house for him.” Lara explained. “I brought a couple of my servants today to help clean up the mess.” Claire looked around; she had not noticed the people busy cleaning the house. “Come, let us sit in living room.”  

“Lara, you did not have to do this. I would have started cleaning after a spot of tea.” Claira said as they walked to the living room. The house is clean! She thought with mental alarm. Claire looked at the floor beside the coffee table and the remains of the antique vase were gone.  

Lara noticed Claire’s gaze. “Dreadfully sorry about the vase. Bradley said he hit the table and knocked it over in all the fuss.’’ She explained as they sat down on the couch. “Now, what did the doctor say?”  

“I paid and tipped the coachman Claire. What in the Devil is all of this?!” Bradley proclaimed. He did not like a lot of people in the house at the best of times and this was definitely not a “best of times.” “Who are all these people? What are they doing in my house?” Claire could tell that Bradley was about to lose his temper. 

“Honey, is it not sweet?” Claire said trying to take command of the situation. “Lara brought by a couple of her servants to help clean up the house.”  

“Ah, yes. Well, thank you Lara.” His voice lowered and Claire was instantly relieved. 

Laura looked Bradley up and down trying to hide her disgust. She was not Bradley’s biggest fan and always felt off whenever he was in the room. “Not a problem Bradley.” She said with a smile. Her voice going up an octave. “Anything for Claire! Now, please, tell me what the doctor said about your injuries.” 

“I will go fetch some tea shall I, Miss Du Bois?” A woman dressed in black asked quickly.  

“Yes Lily, that would be lovely. Thank you.” Claire said, dismissing her.  

“I would like some biscuits with that.” Bradley said. Lara shot him a look as if to say he had forgotten something. “Please.” Bradley said as he sat in his armchair.  

“Now, the doctor?” Lara asked, hoping this time she would get an answer. 

“Yes, well I have a black eye from hitting the cannonball at the bottom of the stairs. The ribs on my right are bruised and fractured and my head hurts terribly.” Claire said. 

“Well, no wonder you let out a slight cry when I hugged you. I do apologize. I would not have hugged you if I had known.” Lara said. 

“You are perfectly alright Lara. The hug hurt but I could feel how much you cared for me.” Claire said. 

Lily came back into the room carrying the tray of tea and biscuits.  She placed it where the vase used to be. 

“Thank you, Lily.” Lara said. “If you would please gather everyone. We shall be leaving here shortly.” Lara looked back at Claire. “Well Darling, you must be positively tired after everything. Let me take my leave.” She said grasping Claires hands. 

“Oh, but must you go?” Claire was saddened at the thought of her friend leaving. Of leaving her here alone with Bradley. Not knowing what would happen in the hours to come. 

“You need...” Claire started to say. 

“Now Claire, Lara has a house to maintain herself. If she needs to go let her.” Bradley interrupted Laura as he stood up to get to the door.  

“Right, of course.” Claire said. 

“No. my dear, it is not that.” Lara said, eyeing Bradley. “You truly need your rest. How about we pick everything up tomorrow at my place? Bradley, will you walk her on your way to work?”  

“I’m not sure. She needs her rest after all.” Bradley said. 

“Oh, well then. I guess I could come back here tomorrow!” Lara suggested. 

“No!” Bradley said too sharply. “I, eh mean, um, no. I will walk her to your house on my way to work tomorrow.” His voice trying to play off his sharp no.  

“Then it’s settled then.” Lara ecstatically proclaimed as she rose from the couch. We will see you tomorrow morning then! And if you feel like you can, bring your copy of ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’ and we can make up our book night.” She said while making her way to the front door. “Lily, please gather everyone. We are leaving.” 

“Yes, Miss Du Bois!” A feminine voice called from up the stairs. “We shall be down in a tick.” And like that the slew of people came down the stairs in an orderly manner marching out the front door.  

Claire stood up to see her friend out the door but was quickly shut down by Lara. 

“Stay seated Claire.” Lara’s voice was firm. “Rest. Drink your tea and have some biscuits. You will start to feel better in no time.” The concern for Claire was evident in Lara’s tone and Claire knew that when Lara used that first tone that you had better listen. “I will see you tomorrow morning, Cheerio!” And just like that Lara disappeared through the front door. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life Pt. 6

Trigger Warning- Domestic Abuse 

Claire made her way down the hall. She felt as if all eyes were on her. Do they know? How could they? No, no one can tell. The makeup might be a little much but it's not over the top, is it? No. No. Claire tried to remain calm and not let people see what her smile hid.  

“Mrs. Laraunt, Mrs. Laraunt!” A voice called after her. She turned and from a few paces behind her she saw Dr. McClintock calling, “Mrs. Laraunt....” 

“Claire, if you please.” She interrupted, politely.  

“Claire.” It took a second of looking at the clipboard in his hand to come up with the right words. 

“Mrs. Laraunt, Claire. Please, I know you didn’t fall down the stairs. I see these injuries all the time. Usually, they are common among fighters and attack victims. There in the room it was almost like you were afraid to speak. What happened, truly?”  

His voice was, again, calm and sincere. Claire felt like she could tell him the truth. She felt the truth about to escape her lips when she swallowed them back down.   

“I fell down the stairs.” Lie! “I have always been a little clumsy.” MORE! “Bradley is a fine husband and provider. I know what you’re thinking but it is simply not the case.” There that should do it! 

“Okay Mrs. Larau... Claire. If you say so. But I would caution you about the next time you fall down the stairs. Next time, you may not be so lucky. Falling down the stairs is very serious. I would investigate somewhere with no stairs if possible.” He said, sticking his hand out.  

Claire grabbed it, “Thank you Doctor McClintock.” ��

She turned and made her way out of the front door of the hospital. The bright sun hit her eyes sending pain throughout her brain. Once again, Claire had to use her hand to shield her eyes. Once Claire’s eyes had adjusted, she saw Bradley was there, waiting with the horse drawn coach. It was a beautiful sunny day, so the top of the black carriage was down. Claire liked this, it meant she would have a panoramic view of South Hampton as they went along. 

“What took you?” Bradley said in a low quiet voice. as he approached her. “It should not have taken you that long to get ready.”  Gazing at her, wanting to know if she said anything. He grabbed the makeup box from her hand and loaded it into the boot along with the bag he had brought her clothes in.  

“I am sorry dear” Claire started to explain. “That nice Doctor, McClintock, wanted to make sure I did not have any questions about the medication he prescribed and to see if I needed help carrying things out here.” Please, please, please! 

“Okay dear, I believe you.” A sudden change. Bradley’s voice was light and calm. He was good for those changes. “Here let me help you up.” Bradley held out his hand, a chivalry gesture, Claire grabbed his hand and the entrance to the carriage and stepped in. She sat down ready for her husband to join her. This might be an act, Claire thought, but it is a play that I will be all too happy to act in.  

Bradley settled down in the black carriage beside Claire. He covered their legs with the faux fur complementary blanket and wrapped his left arm around Claire. Bradley, with his free hand, waved to the coachman. The carriage sprang forward into motion with the crack of the coachman’s whip. The sudden jolt hurt both Claire’s ribs and her head, but the cool spring air helped soothe them. 

The carriage made its way down the road which rode along the harbor. Claire turned her head to look at the water. She was particularly fond of the water. The sun gleaming over the top of the ripples. The sound of the water as it clashed along the harbor barrier. The smell of the salty sea air. This was Claire’s happy place. Whenever she was afraid or depressed, she would imagine herself on a long sandy beach or in the clear blue water. Then, there it was. TITANIC. Claire was truly at a loss for words. The ship looked like a palace sitting on the water. People were standing in crowds at the edge of the pier gazing and taking pictures. Probably more newspaper photographers trying to get in their last-minute shots. Claire thought to herself. 

“Magnificent, is she not?” Bradley asked. Noticing Claire gazing at the ship. “The largest moving man-made object.” 

“Absolutely, my love.” Claire responded.  

“Claire, I want to apologize for last night. I promise this will never happen again.” Bradley looked in Claire’s eyes. She knew that he probably meant it, at the time, but this wasn’t the first time this promise had been made. 

“Think nothing of it dear.” Claire said. Too scared to say anything else. Who knows, maybe this time the promise will stick. 

As they rode on by Claire’s mind began to wonder. She thought about Titanic. What it would be like to travel on what the newspapers were calling “The Grandest Ship in the World.” To sleep in beds that had never been slept on. The new eloquent China that no one had ever eaten off of before. A new life in the America’s where no one knew her where she could live any life as anybody she fancied to be. She could be a seamstress working on gowns, an aide in hospitals or travel to Hollywood and be a film star. Snap out of it, Claire! She thought. That life can never be. There is no way out.  

By the time Claire had come back to her senses they were arriving home. Bradley gave the driver instructions. “Wait here my good man while I help my wife into the house. Then I shall return for the two bags we had.” With his white gloved hand, the coachman grabbed the brim of his top hat and nodded downward in Bradley’s direction. Showing that he had heard Bradley and agreed to stay put. Bradley hopped out of the carriage first. Claire folded the faux fur blanket and set it down to her left. Fearing that scooting across the seat would hurt too much, Claire went ahead and stood up. Taking a second to get her balance, Claire managed to make it to the door of the carriage without stumbling. 

Bradley, once again, held out his hand and helped Claire down out of the carriage. Once she was sure footed on flat ground, Bradley held out his left elbow signaling Claire to take hold. Take the elbow, he’s trying to help. Claire thought. Claire intertwined her arm around Bradley’s and made their way along the cobblestone pathway to the front door. Bradley opened the door allowing Claire to enter by herself. There, to Claire’s surprise, was her best friend Laura St. Du Bois. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life pt. 5

TRIGGER WARNING-DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

Everything started out as a bright white blur. Just white light and colorful objects that Claire knew had to be furniture and wall fixtures. She couldn’t help herself from raising her hand to shield her sensitive eyes. In a matter of seconds, the blurs in the light took shape, and she could see clearly. Oh, thank God. She thought to herself. She was in a white room with pictures of the town surrounding a wooden crucifix on the wall. Bradley was sitting in the red chair that was for patients' loved ones tucked away in the far corner of the room. The doctor was a very tall, good-looking gentleman with red hair that had been pomaded into a nice, combed back position. Although he looked like he could take down a bear, his green eyes were gentle and inviting. Beside him was a female that was short skinny and dressed in a simple white nurse's gown that had yet to have any blood or sign of work on it. 

“Take it slow. Here, look at my fingers. How many am I holding up?” The doctor asked while holding up two fingers. A gesture that made Claire feel like a child playing a stupid playground game but she promptly responded with the correct number. 

“Good, now if you would please follow the light.” He took a small torch out of his clean white coat. With a click of a button the torch came to life. The doctor then slowly moved it from side to side and from up to down motions. The light was still a little too much, so Claire squinted slightly but followed the motion without a problem.  

“Excellent, now just stare straight ahead for me.” He said while moving the light repeatedly to the center of her eye to the area just outside of her vision. He nodded approvingly and repeated the process with the other eye. To which he gave another approving nod. He started asking her basic easy questions. “What is your name?” “How old are you?” “What month were you born?” “Who is the king of Great Britian?” “Who is the Prime Minister?” 

Claire answered all the questions, “Claire Laraunt. I am twenty-six. I was born in July. George the Fifth.” These were easy although the Prime Minister question took her a second. Not because of the pain messing with her memory but because she had never really cared about politics. But after a second she spoke, “Is it H. H. Asquith?” she asked unsurely. The doctor nodded with a smile. 

“Everything seems clear. Your eye movement is intact, and your pupillary response is excellent. All-in-all you are very lucky. Not very many people could take a fall like yours and survive.”  

Not being sure what the story was, she asked what had happened. 

“You took a rather nasty fall down the stairs according to your husband who found you. Your eye is severely bruised, probably hit the banister cannonball decoration at the bottom of the stairs; which would account for being out cold when found. You have a couple fractured ribs and extensive bruising on your right side. Your arms are bruised from hitting the stairs. With your permission ma’am I would like to recheck your legs now that you are awake.” The doctor explained. Claire nodded, giving him permission. 

The doctor lifted the lower half of the blanket gently folding it back to reveal Claire’s knees all the way down to her feet. He hit the lower tendon of her knees to check the reflexes, which made her her foot bounce. He squeezed each leg to check for a pain response, to which there was none. Then he ran a pen on the bottom of her feet. “Can you feel the pen Mrs. Laraunt?”  

“I can.” She said happily. Thank God. Other than the pain in her head and her side she was truly happy that she wasn’t dead and could feel the pen going up her foot. 

“Excellent, your nervous system is responding well to touch and stimuli, so I don’t believe there is any permanent damage. However, I would still take it easy for a little while for your ribs to heal. No heavy lifting for at least three weeks. I will prescribe you something for your pain and send you home. Studies show people recuperate faster at home than stuck at the hospital.”  

“Thank you, Doctor... Um may I have your name please.” Claire asked him shyly. She might not be rich was she was still a lady after all. And manners dictated that you address someone properly. 

“Sure, it’s McClintock, Alastair McClintock.” he said proudly. 

“Well thank you Dr. McClintock.” showing her gratitude. 

“Nurse Hannon, please go fill this prescription for me and get her discharged papers worked up.” He said, handing the slip to her as they walked out of the room. 

Please do not leave. Please stay or let me stay. Please do not send me back there. Her thoughts were pleading but a smile remained on her face. 

“Good girl. You didn’t say anything. Finally, a smart act.” Bradley was cold but couldn’t help showing a little bit of pride in how well she could hide the truth. “After all this time you have learned to keep your mouth shut and play along. Now get out of that bed and get dressed. While you were sleeping, I went home and got your petticoats, a corset and your blue dress. Your make-up kit there on the table. Get dressed and cover up that eye. I do not want nasty looks on the way home.” He had risen and made his way to her bedside. Each word was a sent fear through her being because even though they were in a hospital all Bradley would have to do is say she passed out and they would believe him.   

Claire got up from the bed and took off the hospital gown she was wearing. She saw the bruises on her arm. She tried to twist to see her ribs but turning and twisting like that was too painful. She would wait to see them tonight when she dressed for bed. She got dressed receiving no help from Bradley. She put on her combination underwear, then her corset. The corset was front laced though tugging the strings made her want to scream. She swallowed the scream and left the corset just tight enough to look presentable but loose enough for her to breathe with less pain. He had forgotten stockings, she didn’t mind. This meant that she wouldn’t have to bend over to put them on. She slipped the petticoat on and tied the drawstrings together. Once that was done, she stepped into the blue day dress that snapped together just on the other side of the lace that ran down the middle of the gown. 

Claire was dreading putting on her make-up. Will it hurt more this time? What am I going to look like? Will I have to pile it on? Claire sat down and opened the lid.  Attached to the underside was a descent sized oval mirror. Big enough for touch-up jobs but not to see her whole face at once. Taking out the boxes top tray there lay a silver handheld mirror. Claire pulled this out and braced herself for what she might see. 1... 2... 3! Claire turned the handle in her hand and saw what she looked like. Her lip was a little swollen and bruised eye went from the inside of her nose around her eye and halfway across the top side of her cheek. Now came a routine that Claire knew too well by heart.  

Claire was used to hiding bruises at this point, but this time was different. The bruises had usually been small spots on her cheek bones, but the lip and the eye were going to take all of her know how. Claire took out her makeup brush and started the eloquent dance of painting her face. Starting with basic powder she covered her face. Then she brushed on the foundation. This lightened the black eye somewhat, so she applied more powder and foundation. Better, not perfect but it would have to do. Her blue eyeshadow almost made it disappear, almost. Claire didn’t like applying her lipstick with the usual twist and apply. She preferred to use a brush to get the sharp corners and the cupid bow right. Her long brown hair was too mangled and knotted for a proper updo, so Claire styled it down with half of the top section pinned back by an antique comb with roses ordaining the top. A trinket that had belonged in her family since the 18th century. She was ready to face the streets of Southhampton. 

There was a slight knock on the door and Doctor McClintock came back in. “I have your discharge papers Mrs. Laraunt. I also have this.” He reached out and handed her a small blue bottle. “This is Laudanum. I want you to take three times a day or as needed for pain management.” McClintock explained. 

“Thank you doctor. But may I ask, how do I take it. Do I sip straight from the bottle or mix it in my drink.” Claire asked puzzlingly. 

“That is a great question. You sip it straight from the bottle.” McClintock plainly. “Now be careful. Be careful because it will cause drowsiness and dizziness. You have this bottle and here is a prescription for two more bottles that you can have filled by your pharmacist.” After handing the prescriptions to Bradly, Dr. McClintock nodded at them both and left them alone. 

“Finish getting your stuff together. I’ll go get us a carriage for the ride home.” Bradley was calm. Claire had played her part well and kept her mouth shut. He left the room collected and poised, a true gentleman. “Why can he not be that way all the time,” She thought. He was always rough around the edges, but it got worse when his mother died. Maybe it’s my fault. I did give him a cold dinner and that is what set him off. But how was I supposed to know that he would get home so late. Claire’s thoughts raced as she packed up the rest of her makeup. With box in hand, she headed towards the door, took a deep breath, composed herself and left the room. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life pt. 4

Trigger Warning domestic violence

Titanic: A New Life Pt. 4 

Everything was still dark when Claire felt her senses coming back to her. She could feel herself lying down on her back covered with overly starched sheets. Her head propped up by a fluffy pillow. That is when it hit her. She felt as if an axe had been buried into the back of her skull; the pain throbbed with each beat of her heart. Her face started twitch in places letting her know she was waking and responding to the pain. She couldn’t move except for a slight little nod upward. 

“I think she’s coming around.” An unfamiliar voice spoke. “The doctor will want to hear about this.” The voice disappeared along with a tiny pitter-patter of shoes walking across the floor. 

Come on Claire! Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open... “You had better watch what you say.” This voice was all too familiar. It sent a cold electric sensation across her body. She could feel herself tensing up at the sound of his voice. This not only intensified the pain in her head but also made the right side of her rib cage scream at her. With each shallow breath that pain spread across her. She knew something must be gashed or broken or both for it to feel this way. She wouldn’t worry about that now though. Getting her eyes open, that was her first priority.  

“I hear she is starting to stir.” Another unfamiliar voice. Must be the physician, she thought. 

“Yes, Doctor. I saw her face twitch and she nodded.” She knew that this voice had to belong to a nurse or a doctor in training.  

“Good! Let us see if we can get her to communicate.” He suggested.  

Claire felt the bed start to bend in the middle. The doctor and the nurse lifting the upper half of her body to an angled upright position. Claire wished that they had not done this because it intensified the pain in her head and in her ribs.  

She knew she had to open her eyes, but they felt as if they were glued shut. How long have I been out? How far did he go to put me here? All these questions hit her mind at once. She tried not to think about them and to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. She could only move her eyes around searching for any sign of light that would let her know that she could open her eyes and see. 

“I cannot open my eyes. I am sorry, but could you please help me” Her voice just above the sound of a whisper of wind. Her mouth and throat felt like sandpaper. The fear that she may be completely blind kept running across her mind, but she knew she couldn’t show it. 

“Nurse, get a damp cloth and wipe her eyes. I can see where the rheum has encrusted her eyelids together.” The doctor proclaimed sternly but not harshly. There was a gently undertone to his deep commanding voice. Claire liked this. Reminded her of her Papa. A man she truly missed with all her heart. 

The nurse pressed the pressed the cold rag onto Claire’s right eye and a stabbing pain went through it causing Claire to let a faint cry and jolt her head away from it. 

“Carefully!” The doctor shouted. “That periorbital haematoma is going to be sensitive!” She could feel his anger but then the mood of the room shifted. “I am sorry. I shouted at you; I should not have. But gently hands are medical professionals' best friends. Here let me see that.” 

Claire once again felt the cold rag press against her eye. Knowing that it would hurt this time she was prepared for the pain. However, this time the feeling was softer. Still hurt of course but tolerable. The rag lifted away and moved to her left eye. Trying to prepare for any pain that was about to come, Claire took as deep a breath as she could manage. But there was no pain in this eye. Just a little pressure from the rag. 

“There, that should do it. Can you open your eyes for me?” His voice was calm and welcoming. Claire could listen to him speak all day if she could. 

Claire took a deep breath. Pressed her eyelids together tightly and finally opened her eyes. 

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life pt. 3

TRIGGER WARNING!!! DOMESTIC ABUSE AND VIOLENCE!

Claire knew that she was in trouble because he only used the full name when he was drunk and mad; and that was a situation that happened way too often. She jumped up and ran to the kitchen door.

“Claire Laurant you useless good for nothing woman. Where the hell is my dinner?” Bradley loudly proclaimed. “I told you to have dinner on the table when I got home at five.”

He was now standing just before the kitchen door inches away from her face. His eyes which were normally a deep hazel color were now dark and almost black. A signature trait to tell how mad and gone he was. With each word he spoke Claire could smell the whiskey and pickled eggs he had downed at the bar.

“Welcome home honey. Dinner is ready and waiting in the dinning room.” She knew she had to remain calm and not show how scared she was. “Tonight, it’s roasted Cornish Game Hens, rice, and steamed vegetables. You’re favorite.” Please work, please work. “I also opened a new bottle of your favorite wine so it would be ready by the time you got home.”

“Shut up woman! I don’t need a run down! Just serve me!” Bradley had turned away to walk to the dinning room. It was a wonder he made it home by the way he was swaying back and forth. He stumbled but caught himself by throwing his body onto the wall knocking down the family pictures. “Pick those up!” He said as he finally made it to the dining room.

“He is completely sloshed! But I made his favorite dinner so maybe he will just eat and pass out.” Claire thought as she picked the fallen pictures off the floor. Preoccupied by her wishful desperate thinking she didn’t notice the broken glass in their wedding photo frame. The sharp sudden pain to her hand brought her back to reality. She looked down to see her hand bleeding onto the broken glass. The blood landed on the photo but just enough to cover the image of her in her wedding dress. Leaving the image of Bradley untouched. “Perfect. If that didn’t just scream irony.” She thought to herself. As she quickly made her way back to the kitchen to wash off her hand and see what the damage was.

She set the damaged photo on the counter then turned to face the sink. She turned the hot water spicket on first and then the cold. The cold water stung her hand but washed the blood away enough to show that is a minor cut, not too deep. She placed the stopper in the sink so it would fill with warm water. Grabbing the bar of soap from its holder and she began to wash the cut out. The soap sent slicing sensations through her whole hand; and the warm water just intensified the pain. She let her hand sit in the water while she turned off the spickets and grabbed a towel. She removed the stopper and let the sink pull the light pink water away around her hand till it was all gone. It looked worse than it was, with one swipe of the towel she saw that bleeding had slowed down to a little continuous trickle. Claire placed the towel on her hand and made her way to the bandage drawer. Wrapping the white strip around her hand was tricky but holding the first end with her fingers she managed to wrap her and tucked each end enough to stay in place.

“Claire… CLAIRE!!!” She heard him scream from the dining room. “Please be happy about the food. Please let him be happy about the food. Please……”

“Come here now!” An electrifying sensation ran over her whole body when she it hit her that he was not happy about the food.

Claire ran into the dining room as fast as she could slowing down to a walk right before she came to the dark stained swinging door that connected the dining room to the kitchen. “What can I do for you honey?” She asked her husband as she walked through the door.

“You think this is funny? What did you do cook as soon as I left? THIS FOOD IS ICE COLD AND THE WINE IS SITTING IN JUST A BUCKET OF WATER! USELESS! A COMPLETE WASTE OF SPACE!”

Claire was completely speechless. Her mouth opened and quivered as she tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out to save her life. Which, in this situation, it would.

Bradley stood up so fast that it made the chair fall over and slide a little way away from him. As he made his way around the back side of the table Claire took her opportunity to run across the front side to the arched entry way down the hall and back into the living room stopping just beside their couch. Only to turn and see that Bradley was not but a few feet away from her.

Sticking up her arm in what she knew was a useless defense measure. “Now Bradley, sweetheart just calm down.” She begged with her weak shaking voice. Bradley grabbed her hand and pulled her in and grabbed her by the arms.

“CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN! HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WITH YOU SERVING ME COLD FOOD! THIS ISN’T THAT HARD! JUST MAKE ME MY DAMN FOOD AND MAKE SURE IT’S. STILL. HOT CLAIRE!” He was thrashing her around to which ever way his arms could swing her. Tears strolling down her face Claire didn’t fight back or resist because even in her scared state she knew she could do nothing to stop what was happening.

Still screaming Bradley lost his grip throwing Claire onto the mahogany coffee table and what followed seemed to happen in slow motion for her. As her body made its way to the coffee table, she extended her non cut hand to catch herself. Unfortunately, instead of hitting the coffee table, her hand knocked over the antique crystal vase sending the last piece of his mother flying. The vase slowly hit the floor before her eyes. She saw it shatter. She saw where every piece flew around the point of contact.

Suddenly everything came back to time and Claire turned over to see Bradley with a raised fist and gnarling teeth coming at her. Then it was lights out.

[skygazer0516]

Titanic: A New Life Pt. 2

TRIGGER WARNING: HINTS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

*72 hours Ago*

            Sunday April 7, 1912. 8:00pm.

            “He should’ve been home by now,” she thought. He had gone out to the tracks with his associates from the bank at noon and had said he would be back by supper. Claire kept going over their last conversation in head.

            “I’m going to the track with Phillip and Marcus. I will be back for dinner at 5.” Bradley had proclaimed. “Dinner had better be done by then.”

            Claire knew what this meant. The warning was as clear as the antique crystal vase that was a wedding gift from Bradley’s mother. The only thing left of her since she died of cancer three years prior.

            5:00 pm. Slow roasted lemon Cornish game hens, rice and steamed vegetables lined the table ready to be served. His favorite bottle of wine was opened half an hour ago to allow for breathing. It was sitting in the silver ice bucket, nice and chilled. The white bone china was set surrounded by the freshly polished silverware. It was perfect.

            “He’s not home yet. This isn’t good. He either won big at the tracks and went out celebrating; or he lost big time and is drowning his sorrows,” Claire thought. “Either way he is coming home drunk. Hopefully, in a good mood.”

            The time crept by slowly. With each tik of the black marble mantle clock she felt her dread worsen. She dared not eat the hot food out of fear of the consequences of eating before her husband. Bradley was the man of the house after all, and he expected to be treated like a king. But Claire did have a small glass of wine to calm her nerves.     

            Hopefully, Charles, the pub owner, had cut him off and taken his care keys. Charles was good about doing this. Especially since he knew how violent Bradley was when he was drunk. Charles’ pub is where Bradley liked to go whenever he wanted to celebrate or to blow off steam.

            Time kept creeping by slowly. Tik, tik, tik. Tik, tik, tik. She lost herself and all sense of time staring at that mantle clock. Ding Dong, Dong Ding. The grandfather clock in the parlor went off signifying that it was now 8:00 at night.

            Startled Claire snapped to, the wine glass still in her hand. She had just enough left for one last good sip. She raised the glass to her lips when all of a sudden Claire heard a loud bang at the door with the sound of someone trying to unlock the deadbolt lock.

            “Eight-o-clock, here we go,” Claire whispered to herself.  “Please be happy, please be happy, please….”

            “CLAIRE LAURANT!” Full name, not good. “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY DINNER!”

[skygazer0516]

A New Life on Titanic, Part 1

            “This is it.” She thought to herself as she stood in line for health check. Hoping the health checkers or anyone wouldn’t notice; she pressed her fingertips to the tender spot on her right eye hidden by a lot of makeup and sunglasses. Her barrowed dress had long sleeves that hid her bruises in the shape of handprints. Although, the corset brought forward the pain from a couple of her ribs on her right side; worsening every time she took a breath. As for the bruise of the other cheek, well the makeup she put on would just have to do; and if anyone did notice, well she would just claim to have fallen in her kitchen and hit it on the counter.

She started to look at the massive crowds, all the luggage being lifted on and into the great ship. She looked over to where the first-class passengers with magnificent gowns, suits, and hats skipping the lice check and boarding the great ship; walking with an air of confidence that only seemed to be above it all.

         “Of course. They seem like they have it all. Never wondering where their meals were going to come from. Never having to worry about making sure everything was perfect so they wouldn’t get hurt.” She angrily thought to herself. She couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair that they were born to everything while she had to fight.

         She looked at the ticket in her hand. On a piece of paper inside eloquent black boarder was, “TITANIC” written in giant letters over an oval picture with the grandest ever built inside it. “THE FINEST STEAMER IN THE WORLD / DECLARED ‘UNSINKABLE’ / SECOND CLASS TICKET TO NEW YORK CITY, USA / £12 / DEPARTING FROM SOUTH HAMPTON / APRIL 10, 1912 / WITH STOPS IN CHERBOURG, FRANCE AND QUEENSTOWN, IRELAND.” “I can’t believe this is finally here. Freedom.” She thought as she read the ticket, repeatedly, in her hand.

         “Next, Next, NEXT!?” She snapped back to reality and was staring at White Star Line health check employee.

         “Sorry, I was lost in the grandeur of the ship and the excitement that I will be one of the first people to make passage on grandest ship ever built.” She exclaimed hoping that he couldn’t see, that yes, she was excited, but also very scared.

         “Perfectly alright, Miss. May I see your ticket and have your name, please?” He asked politely.

         “Um, yes, sorry, My name Claire Laurant.” She handed her ticket, trying not to shake from the pain radiating from her ribs.

         “Quite alright, Ma’am, perfectly fine and normal to be nervous. It is a lot to take in. And, as for this check, there is nothing to fear. We simply comb through your hair to check for lice. Just precaution. Please, have a seat.”   He gestured to the plain chair just to the right of him.

         She could tell he was kind. But that didn’t stop her from flinching in fear when he touched her hair. She beathed, “He won’t hurt you; he won’t hurt you.” She thought to herself. Fighting the urge to punch him in self-defense. To keep in control, she gripped the chair’s seat. Hard.

         “There you go, Miss Laurant. Oh, sorry. Is it Miss or Mrs?” he asked. “Always want to make sure to proper language incase we bump into one another on the ship.”

         “It is just Miss.” Lying through her teeth, or at least, it wouldn’t be a lie from this point on.

         “Very good!” He exclaimed. “Now just follow this line to the ramp, and hand them your ticket to board. Enjoy your voyage, Ma… Miss Laurant.”

         “Oh, wait!” She said now remembering her manners. “What is your name?”

         “Peter Peterson.” He said with a small chuckle. “I know, it’s a bit ridiculous. But my parents thought it would be unique and different. I just think it’s stupid. Oh, sorry. Forgot my place there for a second.”

         Claire laughed, “No, I think it’s a fine name. And one easy to remember as well. I hope to bump into you again.”

         “Good day, Miss.”

         “Good day, Mr. Peterson!” She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she walked away.

         Claire walked over to take her place in line. When she got to her place in line, she started to think about the past seventy-two hours and how, exactly, she got to this point. Not just in line to board a grand ship but in her life in general.  

[skygazer0516]

A cozy pile of fawns

[skygazer0516]

LAUNCHPAD MCQUACK MAY ACTUALLY BE IMMORTAL!!!

So here is another Ducktales fan fiction for thought. I love Ducktales both the old and new. Plus, I love playing Dungeons and Dragons. This theory is how Launchpad survives every crash without injury. If you dont play D&D, here is what you need to know, the game has its own lore, gods/goddesses both good and evil. If you watch the show, Launchpad has romantic interests all over the world. Both normal and mystical. He is kind of a lovable goofball player. In “The House of the Lucky Gander” (season one) to save a family member. You see him call out to one of his former loves and the episode ends with him in samurai armor looking he just came out of battle. UNHARMED! Then in the episode in season two where Duey and Huey trick him into stealing a sub you hear a mermaid calling out to him and he replies, “Ocianica? My love?” I believe that Launchpad once dated a “luck goddess” it was a good relationship and ended on good terms and so she blessed him with luck. Then, afterward, he dated a “chaos goddess” kinda like Eris. This was fun for a time but Launchpad couldn’t take all the chaos and so he ended it. this made her angry and so she cursed him with bad luck. This is why he ALWAYS crashes the plain but lives and can walk away from it.

[skygazer0516]

Magica DeSpell and Scrooge McDuck Fan Theory...

So I watched both the original “Ducktales” as a kid so it makes sense that I watch the new version of “Ducktales” on Disney today. I must say that I like the new one. Not as much as the original but it is good. So I have a theory as to the the feud between Magica and Scrooge. As the show states that there is a family blood feud that goes back centuries. But if you watch carefully there are signs between the lines of their relationship. Like the fact that she calls him “Scroogie”. I think that when they were kids together and met up in secret while their parents fought. They would roam the Scottish/English country side and Magica would show him magic tricks that she had learned and they would play with Whiskers together. Things however changed when Scrooge learned the value of hard work and earned his “Number One Dime”. It states in the show that Scrooge learned the lesson of self reliance “A little too well” and his family rarely saw him after that. This would be true with Magica as well. He would always be working and no longer had time for Magica or her magic. This would lead to an arguement between them where Scrooge calls her magic as nothing more than an easy out without actually working hard for what she had. This hurt Magica to where she saw her families side of the blood feud and Scrooge would leave for the America’s to find his fortune. And as to the reason she is obsessed with the dime. That dime changed her friend into her enemy. She saw it as something that destroyed her childhood life so she would take away the thing that gave Scrooge confidence and “luck”. I mean yes I know this is a stretch but the shoe does state that the grudge and feud is unknown in origin.

[skygazer0516]

Fire Nation pro feminism?!?

So if you watch Avatar: The Last Airbender you will notice something as I did. The Fire Nation, bad as they may have been, was the only nation to have female fire bending soldiers. Proof you ask?

The Northern Water Tribe: it was forbidden for females to learn combat water bending. That is until Katara showed them up.

The Earth Kingdom: All the wrestlers were males except for Toph, who is the only female earth bender we see in the show. All the soldiers at the wall with the giant drill were men. And last the Di Li agents were ALL men!

The Fire Nation: On the day of the eclipse and invasion you can see female soldiers firebending and Iroh’s favorite guard was a female soldier. AND if you look at the episode where Zuko and Sokka infiltrate a Fire nation prison, there are female fire bending gaurds.

[skygazer0516]

Chapter 3: A New Beginning

I woke to the sun shining through the open balcony giving off a warm energy of light. As I took a breath, relieved that I could breathe again, I felt the warm air making me stronger. I am no longer in the room I was before. It looks the same but there are pictures of me hanging from the walls. Ranging from infancy to my seventeenth birthday. It seemed, as though, they were watching the whole time just like Tyrell said they would be. On the wall beside me is a painting. Of my mom. Her face was the same as in my dreams. The same look of love was on her face. Her smile was welcoming and comforting. I looked at her eyes and they are full of life. I stood and walked to the mirror expecting to collapse as soon as my feet hit the floor. I stood with ease and no residual pain. I looked down to realize that I was not wearing any clothes. I looked to my right and there is a floor length robe hanging, waiting for me. I put it on and walk to the mirror. As I walked, I felt more balanced and stronger than I ever had before.

I got to the mirror and I saw my reflection almost taken aback by who was looking back at me. Before me stood a completely different person, a man. I take off the robe and stood, naked, before the mirror. Before the “change” or whatever it was, I was skinny and lanky. Now, I was completely ripped. I stood looking at myself in awe, not believing what I was now. Muscles bulging out everywhere and stomach that used to be just flab was now full of abs that would break a baseball bat swung at them.  I now had a v-shape to my upper body and definable hip cuts. My skin turned from a white pasty color to a nice bronze tan complexion. My hair grew royal blue highlights that gave my once black hair definition. It also had grown from shaggy to long. As if it had been taking steroids.  I started to gaze at my face, it looked older and more defined, or at least not the face of an eighteen-year-old. Then, I looked at my eyes. They now have the same fiery glowing colors I had seen on the rude nurse. I walked to the window and looked at the new place that I had found myself. I could see for miles. There were snow-capped mountains that had to be hundreds of miles away, and they sunk down into a green valley full of purple and blue wildflowers. Trees surrounded the mountains and valleys, and out of the opening of the trees flowed a river leading to what looked like the ocean. I looked down out of the window and saw that I was in a castle that had been built out and up from a cliff overlooking the ocean. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

KNOCK KNOCK.

I heard the sound on the door and immediately grabbed the robe I had set beside the mirror.

“Come in…” I tried to say calmly, as I tied the knot on my robe.

Through the door walked the person that had been in my dreams. My mother. Before she spoke a word I rushed to her and wrapped her up in my arms, and tears fell from my eyes. I took in a breath and she smelled of roses and warm spring air. I felt her take a breath and she said four words and four words only. “I love you, too.”

I released her from my arms and took a step back. Looking at her, she has tears running down her face, bending with curves of her cheeks from where she was smiling cheek to cheek.

“How was your sleep?” She asked as if she did not know.

“Fine. You were in my dreams guiding me through it.” I replied quietly.

“That is because while you were sleeping I came in and meditated by your bed. I threw my energy into your mind and created your history.” She said as if I understood her words. “But this can be talked about later. Everyone is excited to meet you! You will find suitable clothes to wear right through those doors. Please get dressed and I will wait for you outside this door.” She turned and walked out.

“Mother…” words that had never left my mouth. I took her in my arms again to make sure that she was real and that I was not dreaming.

“It is alright Kyle. Nothing can tear us apart again…” she said as she wrapped me in her arms. “There will be more time in the day, but your siblings and father are waiting to meet you.” “Ok, I will be right out…” I let her go.

I walked through the doors Mother had pointed. I saw a great room full of clothes and a place to wash up. I took a brush and tried managing my hair but it was fine the way it was. I saw ties for my hair but I had no idea how to use them, so I just let it hang off my shoulders. Out of the many clothes and colors I saw I picked loose black pants with a string tie on the side of my hip. A black long black shirt and what appeared to be a dress robe. I took another look at myself in the mirror still not sure that it was me looking back.

I walked out of the room to find my mother waiting for me.

             “I see that you managed to get dressed. Although, I’m not quite sure why you chose to wear sleepwear with a dress robe.” She could hardly contain her laughter.

           “My mistake. I could go back and change…” I started.

           “No, no, it is fine.” She insisted, still laughing. “Come, you must be famished.”

           I had not really thought about food. The last thing I had to eat was that small piece of cake I had at The Old Brew. I was starting to feel how incredibly hungry and thirsty I was. I could eat everything in sight.

           “I am, actually. How long has it been since I landed here?”

           “About two weeks.” She replied. “The change doesn’t normally take that long or is it that painful. You were in the human realm for eighteen years. So, your transformation took longer and you felt every bit of it. That is why I fought for you to be put to sleep.” She implied.

           “Wait..? Fought for me? What do mean?”

           “Your father’s most trusted medical council, Aiyor, was for letting you remain conscious through the whole ordeal. They thought that you would become stronger for it. He recommended this with no proof that would be true. Your father wanted to go with his plan. I mean, he has never been wrong before. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. So, while Aiyor’s assistant..”

            I interrupted her there, “You mean crazy, psycho nurse?!?”

           “Well that’s not her name, but yes.” She replied with a chuckle. “I will admit. She has an affinity for the unpleasant. Almost like she enjoys the sadistic aspects of her job. But anyway, I cornered your father and… Convinced him otherwise.”

           I could tell that she had her ways of persuasion. “So I have siblings?” I could hardly contain the question.

           “Yes. You have two sisters and one brother. Layora, is the older sister. Then, there is Brayden, your younger brother, and Emoria, your youngest sister.”

           She ran down the list of who was who and I already knew that I was not going to remember them. I was never really good with names. Probably, because I had never stayed in one place long enough to remember names. “Oh crap,” I thought to myself. We have been walking and taking turns for so long that I have no idea  how I will find my way back to my room, or at least, I think it is my room.

           “Don’t worry, I will have my lady in waiting show you back to your room.” She said, almost like she could read my mind.

           Then, out of nowhere I smell the most delicious aroma that has ever graced my nostrils. Breakfast.  

[skygazer0516]

Chapter 2

As I fell into this giant ball of fire a calmness washed over me. The fire is colorful with shades of red, blue, yellow and orange. They licked my skin and I felt whole, as if, this was my true home. I could breathe… the flames… they neither hurt or burn my throat and lungs. With each breath I felt stronger. I could stay here, falling, forever. But I should have known better than to get my hopes up. BAM!!! I hit the ground with an impact that I am sure, left a crater in the ground around me.

I was surrounded by darkness. But, there was a feeling, like chill down my spine that I was being watched. By more than one presence I was sure. One, benevolent and kind. The other, maleficent and evil. As I tried to sort through the feelings I had two enormous red eyes staring at me. Saying, “Welcome to my domain. Stay here forever. Only here, under my watch, will no harm come to you.” I started to walk forward in a trance, unable to stop. Then, I started to glow. Yes, that’s right, glow! In my ear I heard, “STOP! He wants to absorb your power for his own, STOP!” This voice was a woman’s voice. Almost familiar. A lullaby that you know but cannot quite place. She calmly said, “Breathe, just breathe. Everything will be alright.” The glow grew whiter and bluer as the eyes grew more evil than before. They were fighting it seemed. I took a breath and awoke somewhere different, somewhere strange.

The room was massive. You could have probably fit all my so called rooms in here if you had wanted to. The walls were cobble stone and went up at least fifteen feet or so. Bowls lanterns hung from them. Lit with blue flames. A grand wooden chandelier with candles, also hung from the ceiling. I went to sit up but was to comfortable to move. The bed was bigger than any I had ever had or seen. I didn’t have to ball myself up to fit. The mattress felt like a cloud. It seemed to know every curve of my body better than I did. The sheets felt as pure as silk but that would be an understatement. The pillows and comforter had to be stuffed with feathers softer than down. I never wanted to move from this. My mouth was dry, but I didn’t care. I looked onto the night stand but there was no water and my mouth grew dryer with each breath I took. I tried to sit up but then it hit me. Pain!

My flesh grew hot, so hot that I couldn’t stand it. Every nerve of my body felt as though they were being punctured by hot pokers. My muscles were ripping from one end to the other. My stomach and throat and lungs burned as if I had swallowed lava and lightening all at once. My bones, broke with the ease of a toothpick. I could no longer breathe but I still managed to grab some air.     “Please, anybody Help!!!” I screamed, “Is there anybody out there!!!” Hoping, at this point, that someone would hear me and kill me. I wanted the sweet release of death; nothing could be worse than this.

The door opened and this homely nurse came in. She is wearing a simple black and white dress that made her look like a nun. Her hair is long and black with streaks of light blue in her hair. It was half up and half down and the curls graced her back and shoulders. She looked at me and I saw her eyes were alive. They looked colorful like the fire I fell through to get here. They were moving all around the place where only one eye color should be. And the middle were the eyes of a serpent. With each step, she took I felt the pain grow.

“Would the young prince like some water?” she held a small cup of water in front of me. As I went to reach it, paying no mind to what she said, barely able to move my arm, she snatched it away. With what looked like a grin wiping across her face. SHE WAS ENJOYING THIS?!?

“Uh, uh! No water until the change is complete!” What kind of person would take pleasure in this? “Please help me!” I was begging. “Oh, I will!” She said, almost unable to hide the pleasure that streaked across her face. She took out straps and tied me down to the bed. I am now immobile. I thrashed and grinded against the bed trying to break free. But it was no use. I was stuck. Oddly wishing to be back at my foster parents.

A man walked into the room and stood close to me. I caught his gaze and his eyes were like the nurse’s.

“Please, please, will you help me?!” I was crying from shear pain and begging this stranger to help me. He raised his hands, and I swear, I saw them turn into claws in a burst of flame. He placed them carefully on the sides of my head, inhales, and thumps the side of my temple.

I suddenly saw myself in a room not too different than the one I was in. There was a woman lying on a bed screaming in pain, there was a man holding a baby saying that it is a boy. He wraps him in a blue blanket and hands him to the woman. She looked the baby in her arms, but instead of joy, she cries holding the baby tighter and tighter with each sob. A man came in. Upon closer inspection, it looked like the man that came into my room. He wears a golden crown, encrusted with fire.

“Please before you take him, let me wrap him in his own blanket.” She took out a soft blue blanket. With MY NAME on it. “Kylexzen Dragous”. No way. This couldn’t be. Were these my parents, and did I just watch my birth? Creepy. It had to be; I remembered this blanket. The circus foster father burned it when I didn’t want to “play” anymore. He took the baby out of her hands and men wearing red robes came in and stand a circle. They take each other’s hands and bow their heads. The same flaming circle that brought me here appeared. The man whose supposedly my father looks at me and I see a tear roll down his cheek and a smile in the corners of his mouth.  He walked to the portal and before he jumped in, a gigantic black dragon crashes through the wall. He was bigger than anything I had ever seen. He was black from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. Black claws with black talons that faded into a red so deep that looked like they were dipped in blood. He, quickly, transformed into a man right before my eyes. He is heavily built like my father and his eyes, instead of color, are as black as night. He stands erect and poised. He is in all black with a floor length leather jacket that looks burned around the hems.

“There is no place you can take him that I won’t find him, Tyrell. You will fall and so will he.” He said with a look that sent a chill up my spine.

“You shall never find him, Trykus!” Screams my father as he jumped with me in his arms through the flames. The dark man runs after him but before he jumps, the men in red robes closed the portal.

“No!” Trykus screamed as he ran through the hole he then created. He fell through the air and before he hits the ground, he transforms into the beast I saw him as earlier in a blast of smoke. My father popped out behind an old building with many windows. Some of which are covered. I knew this place. It is the orphanage that I grew up in. My father looked at me. I could see the pain surge through him, as he knows what he is about to do.

“I will be watching, even when you have nobody, I will be there.” He said, as another tear rolled down his cheek. He gave me a hug and makes sure that I am asleep. He laid me on the stoop of the orphanage and runs away. He takes his hand, scratches through the air and the portal opened again. “I love you.” He says as he stepped through.

“This is why we had to give you up.” A familiar voice said behind me. It was the same woman, my mother. “It was not safe for you then, you were just a baby.” I looked at her. She was so beautiful. Her long curly blonde hair slightly pulled back. Her hair is streaked with deep blue highlights. She wore a long white dress with open see through sleeves. There was a yellow ribbon that goes around the bottom of her corset that reached the bottom of her dress. She had a soft olive complexion and love is written across her face. She takes my hand and smiles.

“Look at you, I cannot believe how you have grown.” She said and suddenly disappears along with the surroundings I found myself. Then, I just stood in complete darkness, completely unaware of nothing else.

[skygazer0516]

Chapter 1.

I have never fit in here. I have never “fit in” anywhere. I do not know why, I just seem to be living an empty life or always stepping off beat. You see, I live and have lived in an orphanage or foster home since I was a baby. Where things for me went from bad to worse. Nowhere really felt like home. Neither safe nor comforting to say the least.

I could never find a safe place because I am some sort of freak. I have this weird thing about fire and heat. I cannot be burned under any circumstances. Nor could I feel the cold. I found out about this ability when I was six. I was standing too close to a fire pit and my foster dad was too drunk and “accidentally” knocked me in. Not one burn. After that he paraded me around with signs saying “Come Burn My Son! Absolutely No Harm! 15$”. I was his own personal circus! Luckily, the neighbors called the cops and when my dad tested the theory I screamed. Loudly!

When I was ten, I was with a nice couple. Saw me more than a monthly free check from the government. That didn’t last too long. They kinda thought I was lazy. We lived in the middle of Texas where it was warm all the time. I would go out on the porch and lay out in the sun all day. We would have family bonfires every Saturday night, I made sure to stay back from the fire so they wouldn’t know about my ability. I liked it, the fire. I loved to watch it move. How every lick of flame was unique and different from the last. Well as you are probably wondering, “Okay, where does this go wrong, how does this go to pot?” Well you see, one night when my foster parents where asleep, I sneaked downstairs and out the back door and tried to light the fire pit. I did really know how to control it and the flames reached the house, and well… let’s just say I got labeled as an arsonist and they didn’t want me anymore.

It continued like this for years on end. Home, accident, home accident. This made sure I never had any friends. I never stayed in one place long enough to make friends. I came close once. We would play together at recess and eat together at lunch. She didn’t care that I was new or different. Until, the other girls started calling me her my girlfriend and then she bolted like there was no tomorrow.

Well, I am seventeen now. I live with an okay couple. They don’t really care about me just that I look happy and well fed. They collect their check like everyone else and they drink themselves to sleep. Which means I spend a lot of time on my own. I go to the bookstore, The Old Brew, and read. I like it there. They have this old antique quality air about them. They even brew tea and coffee with antique devices. They like me too. The manager lets me stay until they close at 2 in the morning. I rarely go home.

Today is the 5th of April and I anxiously await midnight at The Old Brew. You see April 6th is my birthday and that means that I am closer to living a life outside the foster home system. Plus, The Old Brew will give me my favorite blueberry tea with cream and sugar. Midnight hits. HURRAY!!!!!! They give me a cup of tea and with a piece of chocolate cake. Then as soon as I knew it, it was closing time. And back home I went.

As I made my back home I feel a burning sensation coursing its way through my body. I looked into my tea cup and the once cold tea is now boiling. AND IT ACTUALLY BURNS! I threw the cup down and started heading down the road trying to get home quickly to try and sleep this off. It is not a bad feeling. It makes me feel alive and warm. I just know that the people who take care of me won’t like it. Still, I wanted to be home, and so, I walked with a faster pace in my step.

As I started to pay attention to my surroundings everything was frozen. The cars and the big clock tower in the middle of the town, and the street lights had all gone out. I tried to see in the darkness but it was no use. Suddenly, this bright orange light came from behind me. I turned around and saw a giant burning ball right in front of me. Now anyone in their right mind would run for the hills, but I feel safe as I stepped closer to exam this strange site. As I got closer, I heard a familiar voice saying, “Don’t be afraid. It is alright, it is time to come home.” Ok that is when I stop, even though the fire feels welcoming I think that it is not a good idea to get any closer. Then, I feelt a sharp push in my back and through the fiery furnace I fell.