HoND
Miracle
Ch. 1 Sunday
Birds had only begun to chirp merrily as the first rays of the golden sun peeked over the horizon. The once chilly January air, ever so slowly warming up, life still in slumber for the moment. It must have been around 7:15 in the morning according to the melodic tolls of Notre Dame.
A woman, quite young from her appearance, sat perched upon the base of a statue that could easily overlook the town square. She sat slouched against the stone, a leg stretched out, and a leg propped up so as to lazily rest her arm upon it. Her head hung low to keep her face hidden behind thick, wavy, copper locks. Her amber eyes scanned her environment for any sign of pending danger.
She was a petite woman, having only reached a height of five-foot one. She had curves and assets that made up for her height, having a sort of bubble butt and a c-bust. From first she seemed so vulnerable, but in reality could fight like a man, having been raised to defend herself. She truly was a wild, untameable, vulgar nineteen year old.
A stirring pulled her down to earth as she spotted her loyal cat and companion, Hope, waking to a new day. A tiny, warm smile could be seen on her face as she greeted her companion. "Good morning, Mi Amour." she cooed softly, rubbing behind Hope's ear and eliciting a steady purring from the cat. "I'm assuming you are hungry?" She queried as she rummaged through her bad to pull out the remaining loaf of bread.
She clutched at her own rumbling stomach as she spared the last of her bread, allowing the cat to stiate her hunger. Her face was thin and her cheekbones were defined quite nicely from malnourishment. Dark bags had long formed under her eyes from a lengthy time of restless nights. Sighing, she turned her attention back toward the square where a man was setting up a caravan.
He was highly colorful and jingled with each movement he made. He looked about as thin as she and was taller than most men she had seen, not to mention his dark, cinnamon-like complexion. He hummed a foreign tune that seemed to calm her and make her oblivious to the life now booming in the streets. 'What is a gypsy doing in this part of town?' she thought, instantly becoming aware of the bustling of people.
'He must be moronic...or clinically insane.' she continued to ponder before being so rudely interrupted.
"You! Girl! What business do you have up there!" a dim guard called up to her, exhaustion and irritation adorning his features. Having heard the guard address her, the townsfolk took a pause from their morning routine to intently watch would or wouldn't unfold. She awkwardly scanned the crowd, embarrassment evident on her face as her cheeks began to glow a rosy pink.
"I'm just sitting here. Or is that illegal too?" she sarcastically spat, earning a few sniggers from the crowd and a sour expression from the guard. "Do I have a designated spot to sit in? If so, I will gladly go there...either way, I'm going to be sitting." she half joked, half mocked the guard as she used her hands to emphasize her mocking.
"You would do best to watch your tongue, girl, because I'll gladly teach you respect." the guard warned to a non-caring young adult.
"Sir." she venomously spat, "You can whip me, rape me, break my bones, but you will never instill manners or respect into me for a disgusting pig like you." she argued, getting up and collecting her bag, tying it around her waist and grabbing a secure hold on Hope before climbing the statue to jump onto the roof of the Baker's house to make an escape, acknowledging she had stirred commotion.
_
It was some time before she stopped to rest, knowing fully well she had lost her pursuers four streets back.
"Don't look at me that way! You know fully well I didn't deserve that interrogation!" she bellowed at the annoyed glare her cat was rewarding her with. Hope's ashy gray tail twitched in irritation of being yelled at before she softened up and went to rub on her master's leg in an attempt on console her.
"I'm sorry." the woman breathed, controlling her anger as she tried to piece together where she was. From the eerie silence, the gloomy atmosphere, and the numerous grave stones, she figured she had ran to the graveyard.
"Hopefully I'll end up here soon." She spoke aloud to no one in particular, gasping at the iron gate and resting her head upon the bars. Her body ached and she could feel her body so willing and ready to give in. The only sign given that she was still living was the tug on her worn, olive dress by Hope, "Let's go try and earn money." she whispered, gripping at her acoustic guitar, handmade by her father in his teens, to tune it as Hope gayly frolicked ahead of her.
_
The woman found herself sitting under the same statue across from the man in the colorful caravan, all to which she swore a rainbow puked all over. She found herself giggling lightly as he animatedly manipulated his puppets to do a dramatic ending. The children erupted into various cheers and applause before their parents summoned them to come in for dinner.
Tossing coins into a hat at the base of the caravan, the children bid the storyteller Adieu and scurried home. She had long forgotten to play her guitar after having tuned it, finding herself drawn in to this man's story. Realizing she had been staring, she cleared her throat and began to strum the frets to a smooth tune she knew by heart at this point.
Oblivious to the fact she had had this man's silent attention since this morning, she didn't take notice as he halted his packing to fully take in the beauty of each chord strummed and the soft voice singing, unaware.
"A lonely road, but 'tis I to blame." she allowed the words to slip past her lips onto the now chilly evening breeze. Her voice, smooth and confident as she sang alto, alternating to soprano. "Regret still scorches my soul, and up is hard to find. Not a million tears could bring you back, and I accept the blame." tears threatened to spill over as guilt for her once reckless behavior stabbed at her heart.
"Please forgive me." She had quit singing and mumbled to her sleign family for the forgiveness she didn't deserve. Another upsurge of depression consumed her and made her go numb, her eyes glazing over with hopelessness and her head leaning upon the stone behind her. Her face became droopy with exhaustion and intense sadness. She had become so consumed in her thoughts that she had failed to notice the man that had long finished packing his things and begun to make his way toward her.
"Such a lovely tune, but a melancholy melody to match." the colorful man's sudden, almost taunting voice caught her off guard. He stood a good five feet from her, catching on to the hint close proximity wasn't her forte. She couldn't muster a word, but could only stare at the man in bewilderment, all to which caused him to erupt with hearty laughter.
"Oh, mademoiselle, no need to be so tense... I'm not one for harming women." his raven hued eyes shone with an overwhelming amount of mischief. His toothy grin broadened as he collected himself, standing to his full height. "I can see you would rather indulge in your own thoughts." he giddly stated the obvious, "Besides, it seems my company is either making you nervous or frightful." he continued to babble, magically producing a blanket that would make do for the harsh winter night ahead of her.
"Consider it a nonrefundable gift. I think you'll find it useful." he added, hesitantly bending forward so she could accept it more comfortably. Eyeing him warily, she gently grasped the blanket and mumbled a 'thank you' just audible enough to catch his ears. Her body relaxed, sensing no immediate threat from him. She wrapped the blanket around her slightly shivering frame and allowed Hope sanctuary by placing her in her lap to conceal her from the nippy air.
She glanced up in time to see the mischief fade from him, only to be replaced by a warm look she couldn't quite place.
"I doubt this will be our last encounter, madame. Until then, I'm afraid I must bid you adieu." He bid her goodnight before retrieving his possessions and vanishing into the night, leaving her to bask in her thoughts once more.