A/N: This is my first Patriot fanfic. I don't know how you guys are going to react once you figure out the plot. This story is mostly based on the movie, while part of it is based on my weird imagination. Please forgive me if I made any grammatical errors! Anyways, R&R!
Chapter One: The Howling Wind
She was fragile and kind hearted. She was meek and above all, innocent. She did not know much of the world, and the world only knew her for one thing: she was that of a porcelain doll.
But of course, every girl has her secrets. Despite her fragile appearance, a sarcastic and spiteful young soul rests inside.
However, everything seemed to change around her, ever since the death of a young boy she dearly loved. She and Thomas never got a long, but that was merely for people to think so. Despite every hardships and 'practical jokes' Thomas had played on the girl, he truly did care for her, as she did for him.
But everyone has to move on right? Apparently, Isabelle did not think now was the perfect time.
"Isabelle, dear, you haven't touched your meal." Josephine Barron, Isabelle's mother, said as she gestured towards her daughter's barely empty plate.
"I'm not hungry." The fifteen year old replied dully, bowing her head low.
It has been over a month now, and Isabelle still hasn't gotten over Thomas' death. Her mother had warned her that she would die of hunger if she continues to refuse eating a full meal; but what would she have expected from a girl with a broken heart?
"May I please go to my room now?" the sudden change in Isabelle's voice startled Josephine, but she agreed nonetheless.
Isabelle stood and rushed up the stairs and into her room, where she could freely express her feelings. She cried for a good ten minuets before something caught her eye.
Her grandmother's portrait, which frankly, scared her, was missing. It was unusual of someone to take it off the wall, since her mother instructed everyone in the house not to lay a finger on it.
Gently wiping away the tears that stained her face, Isabelle decided to look under her bed. It was possible one of the maids hid it under there, but alas, it was nowhere to be found.
Just as she was about to call her mother, a strong gush of wind picked up. The room was rather chilly, which was highly unusual, since it was the middle of summer.
"Isabelle." An unnerving voice whispered in her ear.
Isabelle quickly turned around, expecting to see her brother, Michael, standing along the doorway, laughing heartily, as if playing a trick on her. Upon realizing that he wasn't even there, she decided to search the hallways. It was dark. Frightened, Isabelle quickly ran back to her room.
Sighing in relief, she figured she needed a good night's rest to calm her nerves.
"Why are you crying?"
Turning around, Isabelle gasped in shock at the sight that stood before her. She saw a boy, sitting on her bed; a boy all too familiar to her.