After some rereading and finally being able to get a second opinion (I've been trying forever to get someone else to help me) I'm going to be doing some rewriting and editing on chapter one and two. This Saturday probably wont have an update, but at least my first two chapter will sound better and hopefully more people will more from chapter one to chapter two after the rewrite.
I never wanted to be a witch.
In fact, when Ms. Margret told me I was a witch I simple shook my head and returned to my daily retune of sobbing and hiding; with a little dash of gardening in between. I constantly told myself, she's pulling your leg. This is some type of old lady humor that only people in the elderly community understand. Little did I know, that her psychotic fantasized humor was actually my reality.
Oh boy, how my life changed for the worst! That's putting it nicely. To be extremely blunt, my life consisted of: being kidnapped by my deranged neighbors, stealing swords from a militia of nasty little snot goblins, and being burnt alive at the stake (twice!) all while being threatened by a disembodied voice that could do horrors beyond your wildest imagination.
Which, just let me tell you now, living in a constant state of fear and anxiety is exhausting.
Regardless, if you're a witch or wizard and you need a place of rest and relax (like I do) then I suggest you should stop reading and move on with life. What you're looking for is nonexistent. The moment you know you can perform magic, is the moment your destiny is set. So take my advice, and continue to run from town to town because they already know about you and they are already hunting you down.
My name is Helga Hufflepuff. I'm eleven years old and this is the story of how my life went into a downward spiral when I discovered that I was apparently a witch.
My day began just like every single other day. I was resting upon the dust covered floor of my weathered damaged home until an old lady decided to whack me awake with her wooden cane and state, "They're coming for you."
Now before you get all angry at the old hag, I just need to let you know, I kind of deserved to get hit. It has been a week since I found my mother sprawled upon the floor of my home; dead. I'm not sure what happened, considering how she was perfectly fine that morning, but Ms. Margret (the bag of bones who whacked me) told me she had been having troubles with her heart. I guess that's a common thing in round people? Regardless, I've sort of been slumping around ever since.
Want to go out and play in the field?
No.
Want to make the medical herbs like you're supposed to be doing for the old people in the village?
No.
want to- No.
I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to lay in the exact spot where my mother laid in hopes of maybe feeling the lingering warmth of her body pressed into the rotting floor board. Maybe if I picked away at the chipped wood, I could find her soul laying there and be able to cradle it into my arms as I rejoin her in death. Unfortunately, Ms. Margret wasn't letting me die so easily.
Ms. Margret is a sweet lady, don't get me wrong, but she looks like she is a living pile of bones with saggy skin and long silver hair that thinning rapidly. Even though she presents herself elegantly, with her hair in a lopsided bun and her fashionable twigs sticking out of it (making it look like a dead porcupine), she always did have a way with her dresses. Always touching the floor causing the hems to be permanently stained with mud, and I think the few red spots around her collar is old blood? Regardless, Ms. Margret is my villages' oldest bags of bones. You might be thinking Aw, how cute, but trust me when I tell you she is anything but cute. Either way, let's move on.
Rubbing my throbbing eyes, I tried desperately to avoid making any kind of eye contact at Ms. Margret. So, I continued to watch the most exciting thing in the world. My floor. Despite my raw finger tips pleading for me to stop, I decided to pick up on where I left off the night before.
"Good, let them come." I frowned.
A loud thump echoed through the house, which made me assumed it was her banging her cane upon the floor in her usual, do it my way or else, brat.
"Helga. Beatrice. Hufflepuff." she demanded in her more terrifying motherly voice. I silently cursed at myself. The moment a mother uses your full name is the moment you're in for a bad beating. "Stop acting like a brat! You know exactly why we can't let them find you!"
I could just feel the hairs on my neck stand up from the invisible aura of anger that radiated from every single part of her. Feeling as if I'd suddenly became the prey in a hunt, I folded my hands and sent a silent prey to the heavens. Without skipping a beat, I pushed myself off the floor and onto my feet. It was officially the first time in two days since I gotten up and quite frankly my legs felt like water. My stomach also felt like it was starting to devour my insides. This had to be what starving to death felt like; right? If so, than good! I'm preforming the correct procedure.
Gripping the nearest counter top for support, I turned my attention upon Ms. Margret who was rubbing her nose with pride. "You know you're just as delusional as the others in this village. Just because my mother taught me how to make medicine with herbs doesn't mean I'm a witch. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to pray at my mothers' grave before returning to my floor and laying down to die. Thank you very much."
Turning my back on the old hags surprised boney face, I limped my way out of the house and into my backyard; or should I say field? The yellowing high grass that grew behind my house waved in the breeze. To the naked eye, the field went on for miles, but only a few feet away remained a prominent oak tree that had to be as old as Ms. Margret. Its' leaves were shifting colors and the lingering evacuated birds' nests were starts to fall from the branches. Creeping up to the petrified looking tree, I folded my hands against my chest and sent a silent wish to the pile of rocks that laid in a mess at the base of the tree. The dirt was obviously darker than the rest of the surroundings, and a few of the tree roots were now tangled and cut from when I buried my mother.
Hearing a shuffle coming up from behind, a boney hand patted my spine, "I know you miss her. I miss her just as much as you do." Ms. Margret sighed, "But everything I'm telling you is for your own good." Her voice became fiercer with each word. I hate her motherly voice because I could sense my will to fight against her was dissolving like blood in water.
Knowing that my dying time was going to continue to be interrupted, I decided to give up on my rebellion and listen to Ms. Margret; just so she'd leave me alone.
I decided to ask the dreaded question at last. "Who's coming for me?"
Watching her from the corner of my eye, I could see that a genuine smile was appearing on her face just because I decided to listen to her delusional idea. "There are two people, my dear. A Man and her. The man is wearing the kingdoms armor, the woman is Lyra."
Of course it was Lyra. It's always Lyra. Lrya my-word-is-law-and-I-hate-whatever-you-are-doing Black. The wealthiest poorest woman that has ever lived in my village. Despite her not having any type of political power over anyone, for some reason everyone in our village believed she was like a goddess. Her word was law and if you went against it, the town went against you. Did you ever wonder why my house was on the out skirts of Valley Broad? Well, she would be the reason why.
"That doesn't make any sense." Rolling my eyes in frustration, I snatched the nearest tall grass and ripped it a part, "What would Lyra be doing with the kings knight? It's not like the king cares about what happens to us poor people." Shredding the poor dying grass into pieces, I clumped up the remains in my palm and threw them upon my mother's rocks.
Ms. Margret gave a little hop of excitement and a squeeze to my shoulder. This made me uncomfortable. "I've been talking to my friends-"
"You mean the squirrels?" I asked, mimicking her ridiculous expression.
Margret suddenly straighten up with a grin so wide that was mostly gums except for maybe five teeth, "Yes, they'd be the ones!" Pride radiated from her, and as much as I wanted to roll my eyes at her weary mind I couldn't build the courage to do it, "My friends told me that the king is hunting down magical people. That's why he sent a knight because he believes in Lyra's story."
Suppressing the urge to laugh with a pathetic coughing attack, Margret smacked my head with her hand. It hurt. Staring at the old hag, I frown. I hated being hit. I especially hated the idea of being hit by an old lady that had to weight nothing more than a stem of mint. Being whacked by my mother was one thing, but being smacked by a loony was a completely different matter. My hatred for being hit was one matter, but this twisted fairy tale that Margret was making up just for the pure purpose of making me do something besides dying was getting old. Fast.
"So because they think I'm a witch, what am I supposed to do? Run away from home?" Rubbing my throbbing head, I had the strongest temptation to smack Margret on her crown, but it isn't very nice to go smacking old people. So I suppressed the urge by digging my nails into my skin.
"Precisely! You are a smart little one, aren't you?" Margret laughed in my face. It was almost as if she just heard the funniest joke in the world. The punch line of the joke; me. This bothered me to no end. Why was anything about this situation even remotely funny? If I was about to be taken away by the kings knight because of some outrageous rumor, that little old Black decided to start, then that means I had to place my dying time on a permanent halt for the time being. Sorry mum, but our reunion is on hold.
"And just so you can get a few second head start," Margret snickered, almost as if the joke was about the get even funnier at my extent, "I already have your things packed!" Margret laughed again and this time my hand started to rise. One more laugh at me and this lady, regardless of her being older than dirt, was going to get smacked.
Hearing a loud thump, I turned to look at the oak tree in which Margret decided to hit with her cane. Apparent I'm a stupid child because I fell the same dumb trick she always pulls on me. When I realized my stupidity I turned back to Margret and instead of seeing her gummy grin all that remained was a pouch of bull hide which was stuffed with the little remaining things that I had left. Two dresses that were four times larger than myself (originally my mothers'), a few random herbs, a small amount of nuts and berry's, and my mother's favorite pair of shoes; which were six times bigger than my own feet. Right next to the pouch was Margret's cane, but oddly there was no loony bin there. It was almost like she was mist, one minute you can see her with your own eyes and the next she vanishes into the sky. Creepy.
As much as I love Margret, which is a lot, there were definitely times where it seemed like she was off her cane. This time, she was way beyond her cane. I don't think my mums joke about Margret getting crazier the older she gets is so much of a joke now, but rather a fact.
Slumping my new pouch over my shoulder, I choose to believe that it was best not to question the annoying hag anymore. With little thought, I decided that wondering the forest a few miles away from Valley Broad for an hour would be the best thing to do. Maybe then Margret will believe this stupid story was as ridiculous as it sounded and be nice enough to let me return home without harassing me. Heck, even if this story was true, which I doubt it is, maybe by being in the woods I'd be able check out who Lyra is with and what venomous lies are spewing from her mouth this time.
The only way to tell if this fantasy was a reality is by playing role I was set with. (fun)
Creeping past my home and up to the first houses of my village was the easy part. No one ever wonders out into no man's land unless they are really old and about to die. The next part, not so much. Valley Broad, according to my mum, is one of the finer of the poorer towns in the kingdom of Mercia. Sounds weird, I know, but she told me that some of the towns she went to had half dead people laying in the streets and somewhere there was always a rat watching you, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Gross.
Valley Broad is one of the more 'prestigious' villages. The walkways were make of cracked weather damaged stones, the buildings were constructed of the same exact stone, and the town square, or should I say circle, was constructed of the same. Exact. Stone. I hate it. The whole town looked like a giant stone wheel with nothing interesting or unique until you look past the wheel and see a tiny little wooden turd surrounded by a sea of grass. That'd be my home!
Even though Valley Broad looked completely boring, there was always something occurring. The town was a net of drama and lies and most of the time the mothers who are too lazy to watch their kids stabbing themselves with sticks were the ones who start all the trouble.
In the past, Valley Broad use to act differently. My mother and I used to be extremely welcome guests, but when Lyra moved in a few years ago the town started to turn against us and believe that our practice of herb medicine was the work of Satan. So now, walking through Valley Broad had become more difficult by every passing year. More people have been keeping one eye open in case my mother or I walked into town. If we were ever caught, well, let's just say even God had to be frowning upon the actions of these deranged people.
Feeling my hands begin to quiver, I sucked in the most amount of air I could take and held my mouth shut. Despite my rips pounding in pain, I knew that what I was feeling now was nothing to what I would be feeling if they ever caught me in their town. Rolling up the bottom of my dress and tying into a firm knot, I sunk low and began to crawl. Starting to feeling like a rat, in any of those other villages, I scurried from behind the first closest building to the barrow of dried vegetables that rested in between two of the homes. After peeking about, I rolled under the wooden cart full of freshly picked fruits that rested next to the barrel. One house down, fifteen or so more to go.
The aroma of the oranges where breath taking and my held breath suddenly started to less. Temptation took the best of my sanity as I snatched one of the fruits from above the cart without looking. When I pulled my hand back, I grabbed the brightest green apple a girl had ever seen. Needless to say, I was disappointed. Who'd wanted an apple when the oranges smelt like they emerged from heaven? As carefully as I could, I got upon my knees and this time I knew I looked like a rat with my nose and eyes peeking over the carts edge. The loudest growl emerged from my dying stomach and my face heated rapidly. Keeping the apple, I slid under the cart once more hoping the boys in the town square didn't notice me.
Luckily, they didn't even hear me, but then again the boys playing in the circle never really heard anyone except their own selfish desires. The only ones that seemed to be out playing their daily game or who will beat of Wilson first? Was Charles Alby, James Duson, "Chubby" Monty, and of course poor Wilson Fletcher. Three of the boys were running after Wilson with all their might. Each one of them had a sharpen stick in one hand and that brown weather damaged stone in their other. Poor Wilson was crying like mad, snot dripping down his nose as he ran around the houses trying to find one of the other kids to let him hide in their home; which never works. Crouching under a wooden cart, I couldn't help but watch the boys running around as I took the biggest bite from my new apple. Gazing at Wilsons face closely, I could feel the blood in my veins starting to boil as the round faces of the other children in the village peered out their windows making stupid expressions at poor Wilson. The focus of my attention started to waver from whatever journey I was supposed to do, and the seer stealth of myself became none existent when I made eye contact with one of the little girls sticking her tongue out at Wilson. With my mouth completely wide open, ready for another bite of my juicy fruit, little Ms. Alice Gardenet stared at me in disbelief. It didn't take long for her stupid brain to register what she was staring at, and suddenly my apple seemed less appealing. Her mouth instantly dropped and she began pointing a sausage finger at my direction.
Wilson was no longer top priority for my mind. My throat started to tighten, and my knees began to buckle and I threw my apple at "Chubby" Montys' head when he started pointing fingers at me too. Crawling out from under the cart, I heard Alices' piggish squeal yapping at her mum. "I saw her! I saw that Satan spawn!"
Yanking one of those stupid brown rocks from the ground, I held it firmly in my hand before standing up from behind the cart and chucking the rock in the direction of Alice's pig face. The rock didn't go far. It went over the fruit cart and rolled on the walkway for two whole seconds. Believe it or not, I've gotten better at throwing!
"I'm not a Satan spawn you swine." I screamed. This didn't help my situation any better. Cursing at myself worse than before, I switched my scuttling from a leisurely movement to full throttle. Unfortunately, the search team of five turned to a search team of twenty in no time. I had absolutely no chance of out running this crowd on a stomach that only had one bite of that yummy apple.
Bouncing over the nearest barrel, I booked it straight into the middle of the town circle. Now I know what you're thinking, Helga that's the stupidest thing to do when people are coming out of their homes to get you! But in all honesty, isn't the quickest way from point A to point B a straight line? Well a straight line was exactly what I was doing.
My brain may have become a puddle of mud, but my nerves were in full throttle. Panic drove the system and I ran like there was no tomorrow. The mothers and children of the town were starting to emerge from the caves and the expressions upon their blurry faces was a scowl of disapproval. Those expressions only meant one thing, those stupid brown rocks were going to come. So, the only thing that raced through my thoughts were simplistic and was set on repeat Please don't hit me with a rock. Please don't hit me with a rock. Please don't hit me with a rock.
The very same weather damaged stones that formed this village were, like I guessed, flying past my head when I shoved Charles Alby to the ground by mistake. My feet stumbled as Charles fell on the walkway with a crash and I think his mother released the most over dramatic scream. Her scream set off the other mothers and together everyone's voices sounded like a hurricane of dying animal cries and Margret's insane laugher; with a hint of unspeakable cursing in between.
I was five steps away from the first layer of homes on the other side of the circle when my speed decided to betray my feet. I stumbled worse than before and this time someone took advantage of my mistake. Clawing into the flesh of my arms was snotty nose Wilson with his blood shot eyes. His expression seemed like a mixture of hurt and shock by his abilities. I don't know if he was trying to tell me something or if he was trying to yell for his mum to help him, but either way I wasn't about to deal with any of that. Swinging my fist I socked Wilson's square in the nose and ran further away. My knuckles became chilled, just like the sympathy I ever had for his baby face. In fact, I obtained some strange sensation of excitement from socking his skinny face. I wanted to punch him again and again, but that strange thrill I was getting from my imaging began terrified me worse than if an adult managed to grab me.
The opening that lead out of the giant wheel and onto the dirt road was only inches away. I was home free, I could hide in the forest and be safe from this huge mess! After a few hours everyone would get bored and return home. So then I wouldn't have to deal with these stupid people or Margrets' absurd story!
Hope started to cloud my judgment, imagination of making it out of the town became my only train of thought. Until, something hard hit the back of my head. Loosing complete balance I planted into the walkway. My head throbbed, eyes became blurred, and a trickle of something red dripped onto the walkway. Struggle to get up, my body puled in pain. The weary twigs that I called my legs were pulsing worst then the new bump upon my crown and the false illusion of a sanctuary shattered. I wanted my mother. I wanted to be safe. I wanted everything to stop.
"There she is! That's the girl! That's Helga!"
Lyra's voice was confirmation for Margrets story and despite everything in my gut telling me to play dead, I looked up. There she was in her pure white dress. Her raven hair was tied into a long braid that rested over her shoulder and against her breast. Those deep grassy eyes burrowed into my soul and much to my surprise, an armor man who appeared like a God came strolling beside her. Apparently Margrets' delusional mind wasn't off its rocker just yet. That stupid story that she told me, so far seemed to be coming true. But I couldn't wrap my brain around the idea of being a magical being.
Dread seeped into my core, I need to leave. I needed to get out. If Margrets' story is true, which I'm starting to think it is, then that knight was going to take me away from my home and kill me away from my mother! How was I going to be reunited with her, if I haven't even found her soul yet?
I turned. My body may have been screaming in exhaustion, but my mudded brain wasn't going to let me down so easily. There had to be a way out. There is always a way out, and that's when I found it. Feeling like a baby horse finding its feet, I wobbled upon my own. I shook before taking baby steps towards the opening. Glancing back, I saw all the parents and children stop several feet away. Each one of them held those awful weather damaged stones in their hands, but strangely enough everyone eyes looked glazed over. It seemed like they were all imagining of a world without me. When I thought everything was going to be alright, because they weren't doing anything, they suddenly raised their arms threw their rocks.
Remember that comment of God frowning upon my neighbors for their actions? Well, he must have been scowling, because all the rocks flew at me in unison. They looked like dirt coved turds flying much farther than my rocks could have ever flown.
Bracing for impact, I covered my face. Anxiety squeezed my heart until it hurt and fear tighten my mouth. I knew those turds were going to smack against me, but instead of feeling like wet mud dripping, it was going to be solid pain. No rock will hit me. No rock will hit me. No rock will hit me. I reassured myself since that was the only thing to do as I waited for the pain train to emerge.
But I kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting. The pain never came. Being stupid as "Chubby" Monty, I peeked in between my crossed arms. The rocks were there, I could see them are clear as day, but they seemed like they weren't going anywhere. In fact, they seemed like they just waiting to float in the air like a leaf would do onto of water.
My jaw dropped, my arm fell like baked apples, and the rocks continued to fly in the air. I screamed. Not because this was frightening, but because I always knew that my mum was right. God did exist and here was living proof!
Margret was wrong, I'm not a magical being (whatever that is) I'm being watched over by God himself! I folded my hands and sent a prayer to the heavens.
Lyra didn't like this, she didn't like this one bit because her scream sounded like James Duson when he was stupid enough to go into a river on a trip with his pa and almost drown.
"Satan spawn! I told you, didn't I?"
I turned, Lyra was shaking the Godlike man in the kingdoms armor with her mouth in the biggest frown I've ever seen and eyes the size of a frog. The armor man must have said something, but he was talking too softly for my ears to hear, so I took the opportunity to send a prayer up to the heavens once more before kicking myself in the rump. Flicking my hand at Lyra in a forget-about-you manner, the crowd of mothers and their children with funny looking eyes started to scream. Glancing at them, their eyes returned to normal and their faces stared at me in horror. The only thing wrong with the whole situation was the rocks had disappeared from the air.
"She made the rocks going flying at us!" Alice sobbed into her hands.
"She is a devils' offspring!" Screamed Ms. Goldywood.
Looking at the crowd, some of the mums and boy were actually laying on the floor. Their chest were bouncing up and down, so I thought they had to be okay, but I didn't throw all those rocks. I didn't even touch those rocks.
"I don't know what you're talking about! God threw those rocks at you, you crazy people! Not me! Just leave me alone, will you!" Stomping my numbing foot, I stumbled and started to waddle away from the town.
Lyra didn't like that one bit. Her eyes narrowed at me, her lips curled in the scariest expression I've ever seen on such a young lady and I screamed. I screamed until my throat hurt and then continued to scream some more. Running upon my twiggy legs made my eyes continue to water none stop as all the mothers came rushing after me. Lyra came straight at me, but I flipped up her dress and crawled between her legs. (perks of being shot)
As Lyra gasped in, what I assumed is embarrassment, I continued to run. I could hear the crowd of angry mothers chasing me like a herd of, well, angry mothers. I swear their pounding feet could be heard all the way at the kings' castle.
Running in circles around the stiff knight a few times, who could barely move a few inches in his godly armor, I sprinted towards the forest. There wasn't any point in hiding in the forest now considering how all of the mothers, children, and the kings' lackey knew where I was, but I still went.
The sun was in the middle of the sky when I reached the edge of the forest. I could feel my exposed flesh beginning to bake in the heat of the day. My lungs started to stab miniature knives into itself forcing air to become more painful to consume and my legs were sobbing rivers of thrilling agony, but I couldn't stop now. The persistent mod of furiously religious mothers and their brats (plus one squeaky knight that looked like a bouncing lightening bug) were hot on my tail.
Becoming paranoid that speed was starting to become my enemy, I lost my focus and slipped on my unraveling dress. Flopped onto a fresh pile of moss face first left a disgusting taste of moist worms and puke within my mouth. I gaged, but continued to crawl up the small hill that led to the first few scattered trees of the forest. With hazy eyes, I managed to climb the hill drenched in mud. God seemed to have been pushing luck on me in the taste of moss because when I climbed up the tallest tree and sat upon the ninth or so branch I gazed down upon the ground and saw all mothers and the lightening bug halted at the base of the miniature hill. Every single face stared at me with a mixed expression of anger and horror which oddly resembled the constipated look. I didn't understand, until I looked down. It seemed like the forest was on my side! All those annoying little birds that keep you awake at odd times during the night, the quick to shy deer's, sneaky foxes who always try to steal our food, and a few wolfs that I've never seen before were all standing at the top of the hill. They appeared to be a large chain of breathing animals, glaring down at their preys; the mothers.
The mothers' constipation quickly drained to a ghostly blotchy color as many of them started to stagger away with their children. What a bunch of scardy cats. Among the handful of people who stood behind Lyra, almost as if they were presenting a sacrifice to the animals of the forest, whispering started to break out like wild fire. Even though I couldn't tell what they were saying, their quick glances and covered mouths made me assume it was about me.
After a minute or so of talking, Lyra finally silenced the group and muttered to the knight. With a nod of his shiny head, the knight took a settle step forward and the crowd drew back. He must be the new sacrifice.
"Helga Hufflepuff, I presume?" The knights' voice sounded like a wave of soothing wind. It drowned my mind into relaxation and tempted me to get closer to the stranger. It was the friendliest voice I've heard in years, next to Ms. Margrets', but I knew I couldn't be swayed.
"Yeah, you got that right." I tried to pull off an appearance of I'm queen of the forest so don't harass me, but my strained throat and sore eyes probably didn't help much.
"Let's make a deal, right here and now. If you come out of that tree and come with me to our capital, then I'll let you ride on my horse."
What did he think I was? Eleven? (oh wait…)
"And why would I want to do that?" I frowned at the knight. Despite his voice being pleasant to the ears, Margrets' story was becoming unsettling. The more my brain washed over the idea, the more permanent it became. I didn't want to be anywhere near the capital of the kingdom if they were on the hunt to ex me from the picture.
"Alright, if that doesn't please you, than what will?"
It didn't take long for a reply, "I want to go home."
Silence grew between the two of us and the air seemed to have grown heavier. The knight seemed like he was pondering upon the thought, but it was difficult to tell since his helmet was on. As the knight scratched at his helmet, making himself look rather comical, the remaining mothers continued to fall behind. They were retreating into the giant wheel of stoney boringness and I was fine with that. The animals didn't really seem to mind either, since they refused to disconnect their line of defense.
"Deal. If you come down and call off your woodland friends, you can go home."
Swinging my legs in the air, a sensation of nausea started to clutter with all the rest of my bodily pain. As much as I wanted to remain still in the tree and just let my weakening body rest, I knew I had to go of this deal wasn't coming around again.
"I didn't call 'my woodland friends', Lighting bug. I don't know why-" My nausea became worst. The images around me started to spin and my physical strength felt like it was being sucked right out of me. My hands trembled worse than ever before and the woodland created started to leave like melting ice on a warm day. I slipped off the branch and aimed for the one directly below me when the nausea become unbearable. The pain in my arms forced my grip to release and my surrounding became hazy.
I knocked out, falling to my death. (fun)
(*) Authors Note:
Here is the new rewrite! This is going to be the official writing style and I plan to make this a long term story.
I'd love to head any feedback/comments you have on the story!