I stood on the corner of the street. My life sucks. Jump, just jump. A car
will hit you, and your life will be over.
Is that me trying to commit suicide? Or is that the man next to me? There's a whole crowd of people here, ready to cross the street. No, my life has been pretty awful lately. It must be me.
"Oh, Scheiße!"
I felt myself hit the windshield of some poor man trying to get to work. A rather rich one, it seemed. Black Cadillac, nice car. The car came to a stop and a man stepped out. I can't really see, my vision is blurry, but I can still tell somewhat.
"You stupid kid."
What language is that? English? Yes, I think so.
My vision was pretty much back to normal, and I squinted up at the man. Yes, he was definitely not German. American? Yes, that was it. Black hair, glasses, brown eyes.
(1)"Wie geht es ihnen?"
"Sie sprechen gut Deutsch," I said.
"Das ist dann wohl ein ja."
I give a small laugh. Yes, definitely American. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me to my feet.
"What's your name?" he asked, this time in English.
"Schuldig."
The man gave me a funny look, as did everybody who asked my name. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" he asked.
"Ja, I speak English," I said.
"And your name is Schuldig?"
"Ja."
"No, no it isn't," he said. "But I suppose I'll have to tolerate calling you that, won't I?"
"Ja." This man knew how I worked, apparently.
He dragged me into his nice black Cadillac.
"Well, aren't you going to tell me your name?"
"As well as you speak English, you still have a funny accent," the man said.
"That wasn't what I asked," I said. I knew that my English sounded funny, but so did his German.
"Crawford."
It came so fast I didn't realize what was happening. It took a moment for me to realize he had just told me his name.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Why didn't you just leave me."
"We're going to the airport. I need you."
I gave a grin, although I knew very well he didn't mean it that way.
"Well, if you need me so much," I jibed. "How do you like it?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he snapped. "You are telepathic, and it just happens that I need a telepath on my crew. I don't very well intend to get a desk job. But no more jumping in front of cars, no matter how horrible your life is at the time."
"What crew? Desk job? What do you want me to do? Am I leaving Germany?" I asked.
"Crew of four. I'm not sitting behind a desk all day. We're bodyguards. Yes. Now no more questions till we get out of the country," he said.
I sat back, watching everything pass. I did have other questions. Like, who were we guarding? Who were the other two? Where were we going? But apparently there would be nothing else for a while.
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
Author's notes: (1) Translation: "Are you alright?" "You speak German very well." "I'll take that as a yes."
I'm working on another Schwartz fic. This was mainly being put up so that I could test to see if my computer was making a mistake with all my writing, or weather it was fanfiction.net. If you want me to continue to this story, just tell me.
Another quick note I have added to satisfy a strange need to reply to a reviewer. They fixed my entire German translation. Basically, the whole thing was horrible. I know a little German, so I tried to use it. And the worst part of learning another language (especially German, for me) is sentence structure. So I played around with it and used a German translator to fix my mistakes. It appears, that translator sucks. So, to make myself seem less stupid, I replaced my German quotes with the ones she had.
Is that me trying to commit suicide? Or is that the man next to me? There's a whole crowd of people here, ready to cross the street. No, my life has been pretty awful lately. It must be me.
"Oh, Scheiße!"
I felt myself hit the windshield of some poor man trying to get to work. A rather rich one, it seemed. Black Cadillac, nice car. The car came to a stop and a man stepped out. I can't really see, my vision is blurry, but I can still tell somewhat.
"You stupid kid."
What language is that? English? Yes, I think so.
My vision was pretty much back to normal, and I squinted up at the man. Yes, he was definitely not German. American? Yes, that was it. Black hair, glasses, brown eyes.
(1)"Wie geht es ihnen?"
"Sie sprechen gut Deutsch," I said.
"Das ist dann wohl ein ja."
I give a small laugh. Yes, definitely American. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me to my feet.
"What's your name?" he asked, this time in English.
"Schuldig."
The man gave me a funny look, as did everybody who asked my name. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" he asked.
"Ja, I speak English," I said.
"And your name is Schuldig?"
"Ja."
"No, no it isn't," he said. "But I suppose I'll have to tolerate calling you that, won't I?"
"Ja." This man knew how I worked, apparently.
He dragged me into his nice black Cadillac.
"Well, aren't you going to tell me your name?"
"As well as you speak English, you still have a funny accent," the man said.
"That wasn't what I asked," I said. I knew that my English sounded funny, but so did his German.
"Crawford."
It came so fast I didn't realize what was happening. It took a moment for me to realize he had just told me his name.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Why didn't you just leave me."
"We're going to the airport. I need you."
I gave a grin, although I knew very well he didn't mean it that way.
"Well, if you need me so much," I jibed. "How do you like it?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he snapped. "You are telepathic, and it just happens that I need a telepath on my crew. I don't very well intend to get a desk job. But no more jumping in front of cars, no matter how horrible your life is at the time."
"What crew? Desk job? What do you want me to do? Am I leaving Germany?" I asked.
"Crew of four. I'm not sitting behind a desk all day. We're bodyguards. Yes. Now no more questions till we get out of the country," he said.
I sat back, watching everything pass. I did have other questions. Like, who were we guarding? Who were the other two? Where were we going? But apparently there would be nothing else for a while.
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
Author's notes: (1) Translation: "Are you alright?" "You speak German very well." "I'll take that as a yes."
I'm working on another Schwartz fic. This was mainly being put up so that I could test to see if my computer was making a mistake with all my writing, or weather it was fanfiction.net. If you want me to continue to this story, just tell me.
Another quick note I have added to satisfy a strange need to reply to a reviewer. They fixed my entire German translation. Basically, the whole thing was horrible. I know a little German, so I tried to use it. And the worst part of learning another language (especially German, for me) is sentence structure. So I played around with it and used a German translator to fix my mistakes. It appears, that translator sucks. So, to make myself seem less stupid, I replaced my German quotes with the ones she had.