Runaway Love

Welcome to the lovely chapter 1.

Bienvenue a la belle chapter numero un.

I hope you have a pleasurable and safe read.

Je hope vous avez un …. Okay, this is getting hard. I quit.

Don't hurt yourself.

Well, seriously here is chapter one, and me and Rosa are actually quite surprised we got this done on time. But we actually see potential in the story and we hope you guys like it.

-Insert airplane music here-

Chapter One : Ashes

Oh it tears me up
I try to hold on, but it hurts too much
I try to forgive, but it's not enough to make it all okay

But we're running through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train
When we both know it's too late

-Broken Strings

-

Edward Sr. POV

-

"Edward! Don't kill the butterfly!" I watched my son, the young boy who I created, set the butterfly wings on fire, he laughed as the once brown and blue insect turned sooty and black. It flew around, in hopes of putting out the fire, the ashes sprinkling around; it spiralled in circles, and then dropped. Dead.

He used to be the perfect child, always saying that he wanted to be just like me, and then he went to school. Few girls went to school, like my Elizabeth who always wanted to learn and become a doctor; she ended up being a house wife like many women are obligated too.

So after Edward went to school, where all the young boys were, he figured something was off. All those little children…they were the children of men who were soldiers in India right now, or off in war. They all talked about how they wanted to join the army, have a different woman every night to warm their beds, own guns that could fire 100 miles a second, use the sharpest swords attached to their limbs. He went to school, with high hopes and dreams…only to come home with tears in his eyes and bruises on his skin.

Of course the gossiping harpies of this town must have told their children of the horrible man who caused a ruckus in town who refused to be drafted, but I couldn't leave…not when Elizabeth needed me most. I've seen what happened to women whose husbands didn't come back from war. She was too beautiful, too gentle to be put through such terrors.

Not to mention I didn't want to be in the war, it was a terrible thing; all those men getting killed, women getting widowed, children going fatherless, just for a bit of land. It sickened me, I wanted no part of this…but Edward, he went to school, he didn't want to be part of the war either, he assumed that all the boys were like him. Well, that all changed the second he entered the school and saw the boys playing with wooden swords and swearing like mini pirates.

They made fun of Edward when he tried to tell them that war was bad, they beat him for being different. They beat him for having a father that didn't join the army. They beat him for not believing what they believe in, for having a different opinion …they were scared of change, scared that the violence they were raised in was not true.

Ever since that day Edward had rebelled against every rule I set up, its two years later and I get called to school almost every day because of Edward, he gets into the worst fights, when Elizabeth tried to help him, he'll scream and march away. Though he was the best fighter in class, his swordsmanship rivalled many, he wasn't the Edward that I had raised, and I was worried that it was going to be that way forever.

Edward started rolling his eyes, "You always have to ruin the fun dad, it's not my fault that your scared of death," with one last glare at my direction he marched away, his little wooden sword dangling from his breeches. Instead of going to the house, he walked through the front gate and left. I would have stopped him…but he would have just gone anyway. There was less fighting this way.

Elizabeth came back outside, her brow wrinkled in concern; she was wiping her hands on a dish cloth. "Dear, where has Edward gone?"

I sighed; of course this was her question. "I'm not sure, but knowing him he went to fight the other kids down by the park."

"Well, dinner's ready anyway." I followed her inside.

-

Kaushalya Devi Kumar POV

-

"20 rupees." Oh gosh, that was my week's salary. If the prices continued to rise, I would be living on the streets in a month.

"Why has the price been raised so much?" Jai looked at me if I were stupid. I blame the water, it was so cold, the only way to bathe without having to lug in buckets of ice cold water into the house, was the Ganges River. It had probably frozen my brain cells.

"Are you going to tell me? Because otherwise, I'll just go across the street to Raj." Jai glared over my head at Raj's stand.

Raj was angrily packing someone's groceries, his eyes never leaving Jai's.

I rolled my eyes. The two were cousins but they've had this rivalry since the day they opened separate stands.

i fingered the beads and bangles, they were sitting on the rack. I couldn't afford to splurge, as much as i wanted too...

Jai was still staring at Raj; eyebrows knitted together, mouth in a tight line. He turned his cap around and spat on the dirt beside him.

I don't understand the concept of spinning a cap. It was round, front and back were the exact same.

"The British bastards tax up everything, they won't let us export anything and they continue to steal our goods." He was shouting by now, waving his hands around like a chicken with a chopped head.

A small crowd started to gather and I rolled my eyes...again. You'd think after three months, people would get tired of Jai's complaining. Perhaps this was some sort of gimmick, to steal some more of Raj's customers.

I tossed a few coins on the counter, surely he would not notice a couple of rupees missing. Grabbing my bags, I started to walk home; well I was, before a small bundle smashed into my legs.

"Aunty K, aunty K!" It was little Priya, a tiny little thing with bright eyes and dark brown hair. She just turned three. I picked her up off the ground.

"Where's your mumma?" She started to play with my hair.

"Mommy wanted to watch uncle Jai again." I snorted, his gimmick was working. I should start going back to Raj, though his melons were always too ripe.

"You sound like papa's piggy when you do that! Uncle Param said that when you eat too much curry, you turn oh-range, but Anisha's papa eats curry all day and he is really fat but he is not oh-range..."

On and on she went, quite a mouth she had. Like her mother. But she was still one of the most adorable girls I have ever known.

I looked at her longingly; she was making hand gestures around her belly and talking in the deepest voice her little mouth could handle. "... and he told us that 'laddoos are healthy for you, children'..."

Again, I had to laugh, she just never stops.

How I wish I could have a little child like Priya. How I wish I could hear my own little thing talk to me like her.

I wish for a lot of things, doesn't mean that they are going to happen. After all, I have spent years praying for that child that I know I will never conceive. I'm impotent.

Have you ever heard that before? An Indian female that will never have children. What a title, don't you think?

I sadly brought my hand to my flat stomach thinking of the joy that one miracle could bring. It would completely change up my life, my world. I would never have a boring day, one filled with the same routine I practice day after day and just like every other day, today's no different.

I snapped back into reality hearing Priya call my name. "Aunty K, everything okay? You look sad."

"Of course not. Come on; let's get you to your ma."

I was not in the mood for gossiping at this hour, so after dropping off Priya, I headed to the Ganges River before home.

Whenever I thought of my disability, I often found myself at the Ganges. Why is my impotence a disability? Because I am an Indian woman, and Indian women are born to get married and have kids and take care of their family; nothing more, nothing less. Indian women are born with one purpose – to conceive.

Because of this disability, which was given to me as a precious gift from the Lord himself, I am constantly given the evil eye by most of the woman who have the ability. The reason for that is because they just do not understand. No one understands, and that's why I come here – the Ganges, the holy river. To find peace.

I started walking near the shore of the river, allowing myself to feel the water between my toes and the sun burning a hole through my back. The sun? Well it's been quite a while since he's blessed us with his heat and when he does, it's blazing hot.

Here goes another swim in the Ganges.

Older females like me do not do this but eh, what have I got to lose? I found the largest rock and after making sure that no one was in sight, I quickly slipped out of my sari, leaving me in my petticoat and blouse.

Taking a quick look around, I walked down the steps of the river and into the cold water, immediately comforted by the intense coldness and the peaceful atmosphere. I started swimming around when something caught my eye.

There was a basket sitting at the base of the gigantic Lord Shiva statue. A basket?

I made my way towards it, confused, the sun blinding my sight. I gripped onto the statue for support as i started to unhook the cloth that was somehow attached to the rock. I started to bring pull the basket towards me and off the platform. When it landed in my arms, i was shocked.

Inside, was a beautiful little baby.

--

La Fin.

Kind of.

So, we're sitting in Ashley's room right now. Umm….my mouth tastes like Febreze. Why? Ashley, please explain.

He he. Well, see, me and brother got into a Febreze fight in his girlfriend's car today and well, it was long and Rosa happened to be sitting right next to me… He he.

Anyhoo, we hoped you enjoyed this chapter. The next update will hopefully be next Sunday (we're going for once a week)

In the next chappy, we shall be writing about Bella's childhood and perhaps Edwards… let us know if you have any ideas you wish to see in the story, and we might put them in!

If you made it this far in our short author's note a) you have no life (but we love you for it!) or b) you now need to review (please!)

Until the next time,

PEACE OUT, homies!

Au revoir.