Chapter 3

While the father-son pair drifted off for the night, outside, Jiminy, having a lot on his mind, decided to take a walk before going to bed himself.

As he walked his mind wandered about his past and about his current situation.

Looking up at the sky he sighed, the thought of his parents drifting into his mind for the first time in awhile. "I know I messed up big time mother, but I hope you can forgive me. I wish I knew what you thought. I'm sorry I left father, but I had to. He would have murdered me. . . like he did you." Sighing, he stopped for a moment, rubbing his shoulder as he took a few moments to remember his mother some more. If ever a better woman had existed, he had yet to meet her. His mother had loved him so much, had, through her caring nature, let him know how much he meant to her. His father on the other hand treated him horribly, in addition to all the drinking he had done only made it worse. He had spent so much time wondering why someone as sweet, kind, caring and loving as his mother would choose someone like him. And then, the night she died he got his answer.

As usual, Jiminy had been out most of the day, doing what he could to fend for himself. However, that night, instead of his mother waiting for him, what little bit of food she could manage, for him in her dress pocket, he found her lying on the ground, clearly beaten.

Gasping, he knelt at her side, tears streaming down his face as he gently took her hand in his. "Mother", he whispered, his voice shaky as he said it. "Who- Father did this didn't he?"

Jenny Cricket looked up at her son, tears streaming down her own cheeks, both from pain and sorrow. "Jiminy, I had no idea your father would do this. Sure he was a little. . . you know but. He only got like this recently."

Nodding, Jiminy wondered if his father truthfully had just started behaving strangely or if he had just hidden it from his mother. Especially since he had always treated him badly.

Suddenly, he was broken from these thoughts as his mother started gasping, holding a hand to her stomach, where he could see she had obviously been cut. "I won't . . .be here . . .much . . .longer. . . I'm so sorry Jim.", she managed in a barely audible voice.

Jiminy gently laying a hand on her cheek, gently shushed her. "It's

ok. . . Don't talk. . . I promise I'll. . . stay with you.", he told her, his throat tight with despair.

"No."

Closing his eyes, in attempt at being brave for his mother, he sighed. "Mom, I promise I'll . . .get away from here. I wont let father hurt me.", he whispered, just as he felt Jenny go limp in his arms. He knew she was gone, that she wasn't hurting anymore.

The next moment, he let it all out, clinging to his mother's dead body, his own shaking while he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He stayed like this for until he finally let it all out and with a heavy heart, he buried her.

The rest of the night, he stayed by the grave until the next morning when he began what would be a life of endless travel.

"I've found my purpose.", he whispered, wondering whatever had become of his father since that night.

Yawning, he looked around, taking in the still of the chilly night, when suddenly he was surprised to hear a cry break out though the quiet. Startled, he began walking toward the sound, which, after a moment, he discovered, came from a cluster of dead flowers, where whatever was in there wouldn't have been noticed unless one knew where to look.

Nervously, he made his way toward the flowers. Not knowing what he would find, he slowly pulled back the dead grass until-. The next moment he gasped, seeing what had made the noise.

Slowly he made his way toward the tiny bundle until he knelt beside it. Then, reaching forward, he slowly pulled back the blanket, his suspicions confirmed.

"Oh no.", he whispered, seeing the tiny baby girl. "Where are your mother and father?", he whispered, shaking his head. Then, slowly reaching down with his other hand, he gently slid it under her head, until realizing that he felt something sticky, he slowly pulled it back. And, after a closer look at his hand he winced realizing that it in fact was blood.

"Oh sweetie, has anyone been caring for you?", he whispered. After that it took Jiminy but a moment to look down at the innocent face, his eyes full of compassion before making up his mind that he would take her with him.

So, after gently scooping her into his arms he made a dash back toward Geppetto's, one thing running through his mind; that he had to save the little one's life, if only for his own conscience.

Sighing, Jiminy looked around the darkness, the baby he had rescued a short time ago laid wrapped up at his side. He had managed to find a tiny carved box on one of the shelves and had managed to find an old rag that he had laid in the bottom of it, for a poor attempt at some sort of cushioning. And, after bandaging the girl's injuries as best he could, wrapped her up, hopping to keep her warm.

So now he sat at her side, his eyes heavy as he watched her sleep. Sighing, he began to hum, looking over at where Pinocchio slept beside his father. Then, after a moment he began, as quietly as he could, to sing.

When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come

However, before he could finish the line he yawned, letting himself know that he needed to go to sleep also. So, yawning again, he laid down in his matchbox. And, before he could think another thought, drifted off to sleep.