Title: Shunned
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate
Category: Labyrinth
Rating: Pg13-R
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?
I realize that a writer has written a story much like this, I began typing this several weeks ago and by the time I decided to post it I noticed that her story had already been posted. I'm sorry that my story is so similar.
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"One more push Mrs. Charelton, one more!" The doctor was practically screaming at the struggling woman before him. She had been trying for over thirty-eight hours and she still hadn't brought her child into the world, she had little strength left and if the rest of the procedure wasn't preformed with the utmost care neither mother nor the child would survive.
Lillian Charelton felt the world darkening; she held her husbands hand tightly, refusing to leave this world until her work was done. Her muscles were limp and tired; her strength had all but been depleted. She closed her eyes, hoping to rest, but she pried then apart when she began to feel the next contraction. She did her best to brace herself for the coming pain, but she wasn't prepared for the pain to not come.
She screamed in agony as she heard the doctor give the order for a caesarian section. An unknown anesthesiologist placed a mask over her face and before she could protest, everything went black.
Curtis Charelton had been pushed from his wive's bedside and was forced to wait in the stark, white corridor. His anxiety only heightened as he watched the staff rush in and out of the room. He silently prayed for his wife to live, she was his light and his love. He had never been a good man until he had met his gentle, little Lillian. She kept him from letting his work engulf him, from letting the business world rule him.
Only a half an hour after his wait began the doctor emerged. The moment Curtis looked at the older mans face, he knew, one of them didn't survive.
"Mr. Charelton, I'm sorry that I have to be the one to inform you of this, but your wife didn't survive the operation. She was just too weak. The baby..."
Curtis cut him off "I don't care about the baby." He said in a low, hateful tone.
"It's a girl," the doctor pressed, "Five pounds, sixteen ounces, twenty-one inches long. Other than her low weight, she appears to be healthy. You should go pay your respects to your wife and then meet your daughter."
"I suppose so." Curtis answered lowly as he stood and entered the delivery room.
When he saw his gentle wife, lying on the bed he cried for several minutes. Then he heard it, a small yawn/like cry. Slowly he stood and faced the child that was the cause of his pain.
She was small, pale and had a dark thatch hair. She seemed like all other infants he had seen; only there was something else. It was nothing physical, but something in the air around her. It was in the way she looked at him, her eyes, even after being open to the world for thirty minutes; they held emptiness and something that was almost unearthly. She wasn't normal and she frightened Curtis.
He named her only moments after he first saw her, Constance Itami; it was a mixture of Latin and Japanese which translated to Constant Pain. Her name was his way of condemning her.
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The girl walked quickly through the streets, she avoided the curious glances she got from strangers as they passed. Her school uniform half hidden under her heavy pea-coat, only the dark, navy blue, pleated skirt could be seen. Her dark hair hung in heavy waves and curls down her back, she struggled to keep it from blowing into her face as the icy winter wind picked up. The wind only seemed to be that way when she was angry, she thought sullenly.
After walking several blocks she reached her destination, a small apartment complex in the 'better' part of town. She greeted the doorman and walked to apartment 3A, she knocked on the door and waited for a response.
Elizabeth McCutean was expecting her nieces' arrival, as she did every day at 4:23 pm. But today was different and special. Today was Constance's seventeenth birthday, and Elizabeth was determined to make it somewhat enjoyable.
She opened the door and pasted her best smile on, and she even managed to keep it in place when faced with those dark, beguiling blue/gray eyes. Those eyes seemed so out of place against the girls pale, porcelain/like skin.
"Hello Constance, have you had a happy birthday?" Elizabeth asked brightly.
"It's been as good as any of the others." Was the simple reply she received.
"That bad?" the older woman asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm "I may have something to remedy that." She finished quickly pulling her sisters only child into her home quickly.
She retreated into the living room, leaving Constance in the foyer, shouting "Stay put, I have a surprise." over her shoulder.
Constance stood quietly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looked around the familiar room and quietly remembered her life up until that moment. She thought it was sad that the only soul to take pity on her was her aunt, not even her father cared for her. She knew he blamed her for Mothers death, he hated her because she wasn't Mother.
Today would be particularly hard for her and her father. Not only was it her birthday, but it was Mothers death day. She was not looking forward to going home.
Her aunt came back into the room, officially interrupting Constance's train of thought. Without a word Elizabeth presented her niece with small, wrapped rectangle.
Constance smiled as she took the gift and whispered "You didn't have to get me anything."
"Oh be quiet, I know for a fact that your father hasn't gotten you anything. A girl needs to receive something on her birthday." Her aunt said quickly as she rushed Constance to open the gift.
With a look of concentration on her face Constance tore into the paper, and soon a book lay in her hands. It was small, and bound in black leather. The words 'Labyrinth of Logic' were etched into the cover in a fine, shinning, red font. Constance studied the book for several quiet seconds, the smoothness of the leather, the feel of the text on the cover and the cold chill that ran down her spine when she opened the cover and read the first line. 'The underground was comprised of several kingdoms, the two most powerful being the Goblin Kingdom ruled by the High King of the Underground, Jareth; and the Lamia Kingdom ruled by King Tristram, younger brother to High King Jareth. This is a tale of the King of the Lamia Kingdom, the ruler of the knowledge hungry Lamias.'
"It was your mothers. I don't think she got the chance to read it." Elizabeth broke through the girls thoughts again, "I thought it might interest you, I know how you love to read."
For one of the first times Constance flung herself into her aunts' arms and hugged her. "Thank you, the fact that it belonged to Mother makes it all the more special."
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate
Category: Labyrinth
Rating: Pg13-R
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?
I realize that a writer has written a story much like this, I began typing this several weeks ago and by the time I decided to post it I noticed that her story had already been posted. I'm sorry that my story is so similar.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
"One more push Mrs. Charelton, one more!" The doctor was practically screaming at the struggling woman before him. She had been trying for over thirty-eight hours and she still hadn't brought her child into the world, she had little strength left and if the rest of the procedure wasn't preformed with the utmost care neither mother nor the child would survive.
Lillian Charelton felt the world darkening; she held her husbands hand tightly, refusing to leave this world until her work was done. Her muscles were limp and tired; her strength had all but been depleted. She closed her eyes, hoping to rest, but she pried then apart when she began to feel the next contraction. She did her best to brace herself for the coming pain, but she wasn't prepared for the pain to not come.
She screamed in agony as she heard the doctor give the order for a caesarian section. An unknown anesthesiologist placed a mask over her face and before she could protest, everything went black.
Curtis Charelton had been pushed from his wive's bedside and was forced to wait in the stark, white corridor. His anxiety only heightened as he watched the staff rush in and out of the room. He silently prayed for his wife to live, she was his light and his love. He had never been a good man until he had met his gentle, little Lillian. She kept him from letting his work engulf him, from letting the business world rule him.
Only a half an hour after his wait began the doctor emerged. The moment Curtis looked at the older mans face, he knew, one of them didn't survive.
"Mr. Charelton, I'm sorry that I have to be the one to inform you of this, but your wife didn't survive the operation. She was just too weak. The baby..."
Curtis cut him off "I don't care about the baby." He said in a low, hateful tone.
"It's a girl," the doctor pressed, "Five pounds, sixteen ounces, twenty-one inches long. Other than her low weight, she appears to be healthy. You should go pay your respects to your wife and then meet your daughter."
"I suppose so." Curtis answered lowly as he stood and entered the delivery room.
When he saw his gentle wife, lying on the bed he cried for several minutes. Then he heard it, a small yawn/like cry. Slowly he stood and faced the child that was the cause of his pain.
She was small, pale and had a dark thatch hair. She seemed like all other infants he had seen; only there was something else. It was nothing physical, but something in the air around her. It was in the way she looked at him, her eyes, even after being open to the world for thirty minutes; they held emptiness and something that was almost unearthly. She wasn't normal and she frightened Curtis.
He named her only moments after he first saw her, Constance Itami; it was a mixture of Latin and Japanese which translated to Constant Pain. Her name was his way of condemning her.
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The girl walked quickly through the streets, she avoided the curious glances she got from strangers as they passed. Her school uniform half hidden under her heavy pea-coat, only the dark, navy blue, pleated skirt could be seen. Her dark hair hung in heavy waves and curls down her back, she struggled to keep it from blowing into her face as the icy winter wind picked up. The wind only seemed to be that way when she was angry, she thought sullenly.
After walking several blocks she reached her destination, a small apartment complex in the 'better' part of town. She greeted the doorman and walked to apartment 3A, she knocked on the door and waited for a response.
Elizabeth McCutean was expecting her nieces' arrival, as she did every day at 4:23 pm. But today was different and special. Today was Constance's seventeenth birthday, and Elizabeth was determined to make it somewhat enjoyable.
She opened the door and pasted her best smile on, and she even managed to keep it in place when faced with those dark, beguiling blue/gray eyes. Those eyes seemed so out of place against the girls pale, porcelain/like skin.
"Hello Constance, have you had a happy birthday?" Elizabeth asked brightly.
"It's been as good as any of the others." Was the simple reply she received.
"That bad?" the older woman asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm "I may have something to remedy that." She finished quickly pulling her sisters only child into her home quickly.
She retreated into the living room, leaving Constance in the foyer, shouting "Stay put, I have a surprise." over her shoulder.
Constance stood quietly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looked around the familiar room and quietly remembered her life up until that moment. She thought it was sad that the only soul to take pity on her was her aunt, not even her father cared for her. She knew he blamed her for Mothers death, he hated her because she wasn't Mother.
Today would be particularly hard for her and her father. Not only was it her birthday, but it was Mothers death day. She was not looking forward to going home.
Her aunt came back into the room, officially interrupting Constance's train of thought. Without a word Elizabeth presented her niece with small, wrapped rectangle.
Constance smiled as she took the gift and whispered "You didn't have to get me anything."
"Oh be quiet, I know for a fact that your father hasn't gotten you anything. A girl needs to receive something on her birthday." Her aunt said quickly as she rushed Constance to open the gift.
With a look of concentration on her face Constance tore into the paper, and soon a book lay in her hands. It was small, and bound in black leather. The words 'Labyrinth of Logic' were etched into the cover in a fine, shinning, red font. Constance studied the book for several quiet seconds, the smoothness of the leather, the feel of the text on the cover and the cold chill that ran down her spine when she opened the cover and read the first line. 'The underground was comprised of several kingdoms, the two most powerful being the Goblin Kingdom ruled by the High King of the Underground, Jareth; and the Lamia Kingdom ruled by King Tristram, younger brother to High King Jareth. This is a tale of the King of the Lamia Kingdom, the ruler of the knowledge hungry Lamias.'
"It was your mothers. I don't think she got the chance to read it." Elizabeth broke through the girls thoughts again, "I thought it might interest you, I know how you love to read."
For one of the first times Constance flung herself into her aunts' arms and hugged her. "Thank you, the fact that it belonged to Mother makes it all the more special."