( Green Mile Fanfic, I suppose it's AU because rather than being set in the 1930's, it's set in the 1950's for the pure fact that I have more books and know more of the 1950's. So yes, I know the dates are incorrect to the book and film and I do not mean to do them any injustice; this was just for fun, something for me to pass the time with. I hope you enjoy it, read and review! I do not own the book or film, I do not own Tom Hanks ): Or Doug Hutchison. Boo. - this isn't my best, I sadly have to say after re reading it, but it's needed, so... don't judge me on it ;3 - set between Britain and America. )

Time

1943

"When you feel tired of your old clothes, remember that by making them do you are contributing some part of an aeroplane, gun or tank to the war effort." - Olivier Lyttelton, president of the Board of Trade.

The women paraded the street, holding placards and banners high, marching, determined, stiff lipped. 'You are wanted too! Your country needs you!' their voices carried to doorsteps, to women hanging out their washing. They came to watch, admired and joined in. In 1941 Britain had become the first nation in all of history to conscript women into the world of war. Nurses, Factory workers, parachute packers, munitions plant workers, switchboard operators and drivers of needy vehicles. Women weren't just to stay at home and care for kids, they were to give a hand in fighting for their country, for Britain.

In between the legs of these women ran a small, scarlet haired child, holding a placard high above her head, wobbling under the weight, following behind her mother and shouting random words such as 'war' and 'women'. The sky was a light blue, cloudless and friendly as it looked down on the small town, the sun an orange orb and yet there was a slight breeze in the air. The mothers and housewives slowly moved round a corner, their voices fading as strangers followed behind in interest.

The young girl had stopped, she'd got caught up in the legs and turned back on herself, leaving her stranded in an empty stretch of road. Across from her, by a large patch of grass, an apple tree and, right at the back, a stone wall, sat a boy on the curb, a stick in his hand, prodding something defenceless at his feet.

He had black hair, slicked back but some of it had come out of place and flopped over his dark eyes. As she got closer she scowled, stamping her feet on the ground as if that'd scare him away. 'That's not very nice.' she said matter-of-factly. The boy prodded the creature again, a snail, before looking up.

'So?' his voice rang with arrogance, strange for someone so young. He looked barely older than fourteen.

The girls eyebrows wrinkled and her bottom lip jutted out in annoyance. 'So, stop it.'

'Why should I?' he didn't blink all the while he stared at her, eyes fixated on her petite figure, his lips tightly together.

''Cos I says so!' the redhead told him sternly, arms crossed over her chest. She'd dismissed her placard in the centre of the road. A light breeze whipped around them and it caused her pink dress to float around her bare legs. The snail had hidden deep inside its shell and the boy briefly cast it a glance, poking its hard exterior and frowning as nothing happened.

'Yous a girl, I don't listen to girls.'

'I aint no girl!' she protested, taking a step closer to him, arms still tight around her chest, cobalt eyes narrowed. 'I'm eleven-'

'Well, I'm thirteen and I'm a man and men don't listen to little girls!' the creature had bravely extended an antennae which quickly withdrew as the stick came closer, preparing to blind and startle it.

Aggravated that she had been called little, the girls nose flared, preparing to charge at the boy and save the creature, when a voice rang behind her. It was shrill and piercing, causing the boy to look up in shock.

A woman was standing with a placard of her own, dressed in a beige spotted dress, hair in a tight bun. She had an unyielding look, with dark eyebrows and rouge lips. Her cheekbones were high and she didn't look very happy that she had had to abandon her protests to find her wandering child.

'Allie, come now! I've been looking everywhere for you - leave the boy alone.' hand outstretched, she waited for her daughter to take it. Allie looked apprehensive, she didn't want to go back with her Mother but then she'd rather go with her than stay with this boy. Sticking her tongue out at him, she turned on her heel and darted after her mother.

Watching their retreating backs, it took Percy a few moments to notice that the snail had started moving, leaving a sticky silver trail in its wake. Standing, he stepped onto the road and followed slowly after it, still watching the girl from the corner of his eye. Crunch. He looked down at the remains of the snail, wiping his foot on the tarmac surface. Who was she to tell him what to do? He was Percy Wetmore, he didn't listen to no girls. He did what he liked. With a nod of reassurance to himself, he twisted around on the spot and marched in the opposite direction.

( I know it's short, but I just wanted a small bit of back information to how the two met. Now, each chapter shall take part in a different year or month, so the lengths will vary depending on the activities. )