I'm so sorry for not uploading recently! And this isn't as good as the others, I don't think… argh, my many apologies! Thank you so much for all the reviews and watches. I promise to have a better chapter out soon, it's just that school (and another writing project of mine) are sucking up a lot of time! So again, thank you, and I hope you enjoy this short semi-chapter.
oOo
You are Finnian, and you are asleep. You're having a bad dream, some cross between nightmare and distant memory. Or perhaps it's just the story you told yourself to make yourself happy at the Facility. You're not quite sure anymore.
You are small, only about eight years old, sucking on your fist, as if that will alleviate the hunger in your belly or your heart. You watch from a distance as a ragged but pretty young woman you recognize as "Mama", with her blond hair, same as you, talks to some men in white coats. Around her shoulders is the arm of an equally ragged man you recognize as "Papa", who shares your emerald eyes, which were always called pretty by the women of your village. You don't know what they're saying, but Mama is crying and Papa is explaining something in his low, soothing voice. Distantly you hear the background noise you've become used to; the crying of your little brothers and sisters, almost all of them as hungry as you. But you are definitely the hungriest. As the older, it's your job to see everyone else is fed first. Many times you and Mama and Papa have gone without so that the babies can eat. You can't remember what 'not hungry' feels like. You edge closer so you can hear what they're saying. "He'll be safe, won't he?" Mama is asking, her voice harsh from crying. "A warm bed, good food, you promise?" "Of course, madam," they assure her, and you wonder who they're talking about, and why they're making your Mama cry. "Will we ever see him again?" she asks softly, hands clasped at her heart. "Undoubtedly," is the answer. She nods, still looking miserable. She turns, and you're surprised to see her look directly at you. "Come here, poppet," she says, voice shaking. You rush to those warm, safe arms, and she enfolds you in a hug, her tears falling into your shaggy hair. "Now, son," Papa says, "you're going to stay with these men for a while, understand?" "Why?" you ask, wide-eyed. You'd never been apart from Mama and Papa before. "It'll help us out," Papa answers. "Food and clothes for the babies, you know? You'll have your own room, and good food, too. Doesn't that sound good?" You nod; it really does. Too good to be true. Your mother sets you down and you take one man's hand with a beam. He smiles at you almost sadly, and the three of you are almost to the roat, at the end of the long dirt path, before you hear Mama's scream. "Wait! I changed my mind! My son, give me back my son! Take your money, give him back to me! My
You sit up with a gasp, the maybe-memory once again distant and elusive in you conscious state. All you can remember is two echoing words, as you place your head in your hands and begin to cry.
"My son!"
oOo
Authors notes:
My friend (theslyknave on FF) and I agreed that we liked the idea of Finny's parents being kind, but poor. We liked the idea that they really, honestly thought they were doing something right for Finny. They just... messed up, big time.
That said, this also could be a story Finny dreamed up to make himself happier and just BELIEVE that he had parents who loved him and didn't just want to make a quick buck. Of course, if this is the case, he added in a buncha siblings because can't you see Finny as a little boy playing with all the other little kids? He's a cutie.
So you can take the "d'aw" background or the "b'aw" one, whichever makes you happy.
(Again, sorry for the short fail-chapter, I hope to have something nicer up soon.)