4 - What they're asking.

Hello!

Here's the continuation to my last post. Feel free to comment =) I'd love to hear what you think!

Have a Great Day,
Jesse

Continued from 3 - A New Home

Chapter 2

The orange sunlight that filtered through the window created an odd pattern, like a long jagged mountain range, that ran across the entire room. Ellie lay on the desk digesting everything Aaron had said.

There was absolutely no way she would be able to do what they expected of her. But there, on the new desk they had brought into her new five room suite, were the correspondences found after Warren’s ‘unfortunate death.’ Gavin’s second, Tahan, had walked into Ellie’s new home shortly after Aaron’s departure, directing workmen to set up her research table.

Tahan smiled reluctantly at Ellie. She’d always had a soft spot for Tahan. Even though he could be more ruthless than any other person Ellie had ever known, Tahan was the only one who brought prisoners water and food during the rebellions, and that memory endured more than any. She remembered being curled up in the corner of a small cell with four other Talents while the fighting raged outside. Tahan had yelled at the guards to get the stink off themselves, then, as the guards left to clean, he had pulled compact energy bars and slim packs of water from his trench coat. He nodded slightly to Ellie, and handed her two packs of water and two bars. Tahan turned, scowling, then yelled at all the prisoners, Talents, until they were cowering in fear.

Ellie’s mouth ticked an involuntary smile as Tahan sat in the green armchair. He curled the thick stack of envelopes in his hands as he stared down.

The change Ellie saw in Tahan was unsettling. Four years before, right before she’d been sold to Warren, Tahan had been polished and precise, he was confident in his decisions and actions, but today he looked anything but. He was the picture of indecision and uncertainty. His once young face looked drawn and world weary. The lines of his dark skin were more pronounced than before. His intelligent brown eyes were now dull and questioning. Tahan’s hair was no longer kept cropped and orderly, but long and disheveled.

“Ellie,” Tahan said, in his smooth voice.

“Tahan,” Ellie nodded back, sitting on the edge of her old desk.

“Do you understand what we’re asking of you?” he asked plaintively.

“I understand what you would like me to do.”

Tahan glanced up at Ellie, his dark brown eyes were the same shade as his hair. “I’m sensing there’s more to that.”

“Of course there is,” Ellie said pulling her knees to her chest. There was always more to everything.

“Let me hear it,” he said.

“You won’t want to,” Ellie retorted.

Tahan leaned forward. “Ellie, not once in the years that I have known you have I shut you down or out. You are a slave, but you, unlike some other Talents, have a brain. You can think and act for yourself. You will do what you want, and Warren freeing you was proof of that. We need you to do this because you can think like them.” He folded his hands over the envelopes he was holding. “Now, let me hear what’s more.”

Ellie’s lips pursed before she spoke. “I can’t do it.”

“You have to,” Tahan said resigned.

Ellie picked up the gold chain around her neck. “I know.”

“All you need to do is figure out who Gemini is,” Tahan said simply.

Ellie dropped the chain. “You’re wrong you know.” She turned and pulled her bag onto her lap and fished out the letter from Warren. She held it out to Tahan. “All I’m doing is betraying the only person who ever treated me like a human.”

“I know what that says, Ellie,” Tahan said. “You know you can never be free. You’re too strong.”
Ellie closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew what he said was true, but hoped to find a way to be free someday soon. “Tahan, I can’t do what they’re asking.”

“Gemini might be dead for all we know, Ellie.” Tahan stood and set the envelopes on the new desk. “Just read the letters and see if you can get a lock on him.” He turned and started to walk out. At the door, Tahan turned. “If you need anything, just ask. And Ellie,” Tahan was looking at his hands, “I’m glad you’re back, safe.”

to be continued...

3 - A New Home

Hi All,

Feel free to comment =) I'd love to hear what you think!

Have a Great Day,
Jesse

Continued from 2 - Why you're here.

He was sharply dressed, changed from his jeans and jacket that he had worn before, in a pinstriped blue suit, yellow silk tie, and gleaming shoes.

“Ellen Runner, how nice to see you again,” he said with a predatory glint in his eyes. The smile on his face did nothing to lighten his dark eyes. It made him seem cold and calculating instead.

Ellie looked at him and smiled politely. “Hello Gavin. I wish I could say that it’s nice to see you again, but it truly is not.” She spat at his feet. “Go to hell.”

“Already been there sweetheart,” Gavin said smiling.

“What made you come back to the land of the living?” Ellie sneered.

Gavin knelt down “You my dear.”

That stunned Ellie. “Me?”

He nodded, his eyes glinting. “We need your talents. We need you to track.”

“Get someone else,” Ellie said. “I’m free.”

Gavin cocked an eyebrow. “You think so?” He lean forward, his hawklike features menacing. “Do you honestly think that the little stunt Warren pulled, freeing you, before we finally tracked him down, actually worked?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not free now, and you never were.” He pointed a boney finger at her. “You can never be free.”

Ellie’s stomach plummeted. None of it was true, she was sure. He just wanted to get a rise out of her. But from the corner of her eye she saw Aaron hang his head. Then he looked up and nodded grimly at her. She had been told that once someone like her had been sold, and their talents had been honed, that they could never be free again. They were dangerous, trained, a weapon.
Gavin stood. Leaving Ellie reeling. He walked toward her fishing something out of his pocket. He opened a small box and withdrew a delicate gold necklace. He came up behind her, leaned down, and whispered in her ear, “You belong to me.”

Ellie chocked back a sob as he swiped her braid to the side and fastened the piece that marked her as property around her neck.

Gavin walked around to face Ellie. “Just so you know, you’ll never be able to run again. We put a tracker in you. Ironic that we have to track our own Tracker.” With that Gavin turned heel, opened the metal door, and walked out, heels clicking on the floor at a much steadier rhythm than Ellie’s heart.

She fought back tears as she stared blankly at the wall, tracing the lines of cinderblocks with her eyes, when a voice crackled over the comm. “Release her. Take her to her cell.”

Ellie looked at Aaron who was approaching her. “Touch me you die,” she said, tears threatening to come as she thought of her books, her old home, the time she spent just being. It was all gone now.

“Fair enough,” Aaron said.

He did his best untying Ellie’s wrists, then opened the door and walked her down the sterile hallway. Banks of halogen lights flickered on in front of them and off behind them as they walked down the hall. Aaron’s shoes clicked on the tile floor as Ellie’s bare feet padded softly against the cold ground.

They arrived at an inconspicuous door, similar to others they had passed.

“This is your room,” Aaron said as he pulled the door open and held it open for her.

Ellie froze on the threshold. The sight that greeted her eyes was not what she had expected.
Rather than bare cell she was anticipating, there was plush carpet on the floor, pictures on the walls, and in the corner was her green armchair from the library and it had her bag slung across the seat.

“It’s here,” Ellie murmured, still standing frozen in place.

“Yep,” Aaron said. “And that desk of yours is around the corner, but they’re willing to get you a larger one if you need it for research purposes.”

Ellie continued to stare, then darted toward her bag, wrenched it open, and sorted through the contents. It was all there. The white book. The picture of her family. The flower. The notebook. The letter.  The necklace. It was all still there. She collapsed on the chair, curled up, and began to cry, clutching the bag in her arms.

Aaron shut the door quietly behind himself and took a seat in the chair opposite Ellie. “Now do you want to know why you’re really here?”

to be continued...

2 - Why you're here.

Hello,

Feel free to comment on what I've written. I'd love to hear what you think. =)

Have a Great Day!
Jesse

Continued from 1 - Revolution

Ellie awoke, not knowing where she was. The room smelled dank and musty. She tried turning her head but the darkness followed her line of sight. Either, she had something over her head or there was absolute darkness surrounding her. Her hands were roped behind her back and tied to whatever she was sitting on.

As she sat, Ellie tried to calm her breathing. She took stock of her physical condition. Other than her scalp aching, knee throbbing, and arms tingling she felt fine. Whatever she was sitting on was cold and smooth. She wondered if it could be a metal chair, which brought unwelcome thoughts of interrogation to mind.

She squinted trying to determine if she had something covering her head or not. As Ellie squinted for the third time she heard the distinctive scrape of metal on concrete. It was to her right. She followed the sound with her blind eyes. The scraping stopped.

“Do you know why you’re here?” a deep voice said.
It was a man’s voice. Ellie was sure of it. She had two choices, respond or not. Ellie chose the latter.

“I’ll ask you again,” the man said. “Do you know why you’re here?” There was the sound of footsteps and a person sitting.

Ellie’s mind reeled. What did they want from her? Could they need her for something other than her Talent?

“Ah.”

Ellie could hear the smile in the man’s voice as he uttered that one expression. Her stomach sank to her feet. He was one too.

“So, you do know why you’re here.”

Ellie heard the groan of the chair as the man reclined and crossed his legs.

“Staying silent won’t help your cause,” he paused, “Ellen.”

Ellie groaned at her name.

“I thought that was you. Ellen Runner. Appropriate name.” The man sighed. “Turn on the lights,” he said more loudly.

Banks of halogen lights flickered to life. Ellie squinted against the brightness and attempted to make out the man’s face. He was reclining in the metal chair, like she had thought.

She frowned. “I know you,” her voice croaked. She couldn’t place how she knew him, but she recognized the shade of his shaggy brown hair, his straight nose, and his light brown eyes.

“I thought you might remember me,” he said. “You were a great Tracker then. I’m sure you’re even better now.”

Ellie tilted her head as she looked at him, trying to place his face. She mentally wandered through all the tracking missions she’d been on, people she’d been ordered to search for. He’d been there, in the very beginning, when she was eight. He’d been a couple years older. He’d looked after her for the short while she’d been there, but she’d been sold to a different master not too long after starting as a Tracker.

“You’re a Reader,” Ellie mumbled.

“And you can’t remember my name,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Aaron. It’s Aaron.”

“You used to do that,” Ellie said. “You used to finish people’s sentences and answer unasked questions.”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t do that so much any more.”

Ellie leveled a stare at Aaron. “Except when you’re interrogating someone.”

He stopped smiling and glanced at the window behind him and back to Ellie. “Yeah. About that,” he said hesitantly, “they’d like to speak to you.”

Who are they? Ellie thought to Aaron.

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell her. It wasn’t long before the handle on the metal door turned and in walked her old master.

to be continued...

1 - Revolution

The following is a book I started just a little while ago (last week as a matter of fact). Let me know what you think. Where do you see it set? When? What does Ellie look like? What about him? More detail or less? What was she reading? What lullabies did she hum? What is going to happen next?

I have no name for this book yet, (what do you think of Catalyst?) but I do have a rough outline. I'll hopefully get to write more soon, but this week is midterms, so I'm a bit busy. Enjoy.

Jesse

___________

There was nothing about the dull gray sky that spoke of revolution. There was nothing about the sentinel-like red brick buildings that spoke of change. But there was the stillness in the air, the hush of the graveyard, and the smell of decay that spoke of death.

-

Ellie dog eared the page of the tattered book. She swiped a hand over the white, embossed cover as she closed it. The book was slid into her shoulder bag with little attention, and little fanfare.

The scene that greeted her eyes was the same it had been as long as she could remember. Crumpled piles of red. Towers of gray. Blue skies. But the green came more and more.

She was alone as always, as she wanted. Ellie hadn’t spoken with anyone for three years, not since she’d been freed. To her speaking wasn’t necessary. The world she inhabited lived within herself, not outside of herself in the crumbling remains of a world that only succeeded in creating its own gravediggers. On good days she hummed old lullabies to herself, the ones she remembered from before she was taken away.

Ellie scraped her worn boots on the gravelly ground and pushed off of the building ledge she had been sitting on. The cool air rushed around her. She noted blonde tendrils of hair whipping around her face in the wind and made a mental note to redo the braids her once she got home.

The world was eerily quite as Ellie walked home. The only sounds were the scrape of her boots and the whistling of wind through the corridors of the dilapidated high rises. She rounded the corner and walked into the old library.

The doors hung askew. There was glass shattered on the ground. Paper littered the interior floor. Tiles were cracked and buckled. But it was home.

Ellie made her way up the once grand central staircase. She jumped over the gaping hole that spanned two stairs and hopped up the rest, excited and hoping to find another book in the archives of the library.

Grinning at the thought of a new discovery, Ellie rounded the corner to her home. It was an interior office with an old, drafty fireplace that came in very useful in the cold winter months. All of her books were piled in one corner, a cushy green winged armchair was in another corner, and pushed between the chair and pile of books was a majestic desk that was piled with remnants of cloth, her bed.

She opened the door, a grin on her face, hoping whatever she found today would be worth reading. She enjoyed the 19th century scientists most, but fiction was not unwelcome. It just wasn’t useful.

With one foot halfway over the threshold her grin froze on her face. Her eyes widened in shock and recognition. Pulling the door shut Ellie turned and ran.

It was him. She was free of him. Warren made sure of that before he died. But he’d had another with him. The little boy must have been another, like her.

Ellie’s feet pounded on the broken marble floors as she ran. The best way of escape eluded her. If he had someone like her he’d be able to find her wherever she ran, wherever she hid, anywhere. She would never be safe again. She would never wear that collar again. She would never willingly be anything for anyone ever again.

It was the look on his face that made the tears spill down as she fumbled with the  door handle that led to the attic. She was a prize. Ellie vaguely wondered what the bounty on her head was. What would make him come back to get her? It had to be the money, right? She pushed through doors and ran blindly, guided by practice, by routine.

Ellie toppled stacks of chairs, of bricks, of anything she could get her hands on as she ran up the corridor. Planning an escape route and exit strategy had been her first mission she’d given herself upon setting up a home in the library. She was grateful for that now. The cords were strategically placed. The piles of detritus were meant to do as much damage as possible. Her plan was almost foolproof. Almost.

Reaching the apex of the building Ellie began her climb up the ladder to the vents in the metal roof. She kicked the vent out and began pushing herself out.

A large hand knotted in her hair and lifted her up by the roots of her hair.

Ellie muffled a scream and twisted to spit at her captor.
He wiped his face and glared at her. “That’s no way to say hello to your master.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched. She hoped he could see the hate radiating from her being. She punched and flailed, scratching at his hands and arms, anything she could reach to get away.

Then Ellie stilled, stared him in the eyes, and something she hadn’t done in years. Her voice was broken and cracked as she spoke. “I have no master.”

A Beginning

Writing has been my companion for my entire life. I could never keep a journal. I could never write in a diary. I was even terrible at passing notes. But I wrote. I dreamed of being an author who would inspire children to read and write, who would inspire anyone to read and write. I wanted to write about things that were important to me, but I could never write them from my own perspective.

When my dad was sick I wrote poetry and stories in which the characters father had a terminal illness and died. Then when I was older I would write about grief from another persons perspective. Writing, and looking from the outside in, helped me get closer to those things I could, and most likely will, never understand. Death, grief, solitude, and loss. Writing was my coping mechanism. Writing is my coping mechanism. The words I write attempt to understand the incomprehensible.

Now, as a mother, wife, and student I often find that I don't have time to escape reality into books, because my mind is too full. So, I write it out.

My mother used to be my writing cheerleader before she passed away, and now I find myself turning to my wonderful sister, who, in fact, recommended I put my writings up online to be critiqued by others. I do so hesitantly. I am open and willing to hear opinions and critiques, but I am not you and you are not me. What you like, I may not, and vice versa. I'm not saying, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say it at all." What I'm saying is I'd love to hear what recommendations you have, or errors you see, but I do not need to hear that you think what I'm writing is crap, unless you explain why, respectfully.

My next post will be the beginning this book. =)

Have a Great Day.