SORRY EVERYONE! I ACCIDENTILY UPLOADED THE NOT FINISHED-VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER. DARN! NOTHING CHANGED EXCEPT THE VERY END OF NUDGE'S POV. SOOOOOOO SORRY!

Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Seven- -

+-3rd Person-+

Crouching down low to the ground, the bushes easily concealing him from view, the young man allowed the tears burning in his eyes to spill out. His legs quit supporting him, and his backside landed heavily on the ground.

Swimming in his mind's eyes, the charred shell of his childhood home was burning once more. His hands sung, his useless attempt to rescue his family inside leaving them burned and blackened. Those damaged hands clenched into fists, and the young man jumped swiftly to his feet. A loud roar erupted from his throat, and fist connected with tree trunk. The barely-healed wounds split open, fresh blood trickling down his arm.

Growling and cursing himself, the young man slipped the shirt off his head, dark hair flopping into his face, and wrapped it tightly around his injured hand. The leather cord around his neck felt too heavy, too tight. It's gleaming white pendant shone too bright in the moonlight. His fingers itched to tear it off, but he simply couldn't.

It was all he had left of himself now.

... ... ... ... ... ...

(NUDGE)

Cass knew somethin' was on my mind soon as I walked in the door. Her eyes followed me as I cleaned my corner of her small home. "Wha's the matter wit you then?" She demanded, turning me around, hand tight on my shoulder.

I could feel my eyes widening, and I shook my head jerkily. A corkscrew curl had escaped its tight binding and stuck to the slightly damp skin on my forehead. "Nothin's wrong, Cass. Why?"

Her dark eyes stared at me and I could feel my will shaking, wanting to confess everything. But I bit my tongue. "Dinner's ready." I whispered, sliding past her slight frame and quickly taking the pot in my hands, ladling some of the thin soup into both of our bowls. My mind scowled at the fare, but I kept my face expressionless.

Cass and I didn't say a word to each other for the rest of the night. I climbed into my tiny bed, muscles tight and tense. I wiggled my toes and stretched my legs out to their full length, trying to relax. Despite the unbearable heat of the day, the night was chilled, and a thin blanket covered the middle of my body. Cass had cut the blanket in two when I arrived, allowing us each to always have a piece-a small piece, but better than nothing at all.

My feet hung off the end of the too-small bed, and my arm hit the floor when it dangled from the side. But I know better than to complain; I have it better than most of my fellow slaves. In the dark, listening to Cass's heavy, steady, breathing, my mind wandered to a certain pale boy whom I felt a strange connection to. The only problem was how much I wished I didn't.

Mister and Missus Colburn had given us the day off-everyone; even the field laborers-in honor of their son's homecoming. Missus Colburn did specifically ask for Cass, though, 'cause she wanted her to see young Mister Colburn again. I didn't mention his return to Cass, but of course she knew. Because of the Missus' summon, Cass left the house early, leaving me responsible for myself.

I was pleased to be left alone for a short time. If I miss the sunrise, mornings are bad for me. Sunrises are the only way to cheer and rouse me from my slumber, though still not very effectively. This morning, I awoke late, my arms and shoulders stiff and sore, the sky already blue, only the faintest remnants of sunny color still remaining. I pulled myself from bed and ate the small portion of bread Cass had left behind for me.

She had also placed one of her dresses on her bed for me to wear. Despite being nearly five inches taller than her, Cass's dresses fit me surprisingly well. This one is the same color as the sky during the end of summer, right before the sunset. I slid into the soft fabric and began to comb my crazy hair, pulling it back into a tight braid before leaving the house.

The day was surprisingly cool, the sun having not been up for long enough to heat the hard packed ground and glare down at us. I didn't know exactly where I was going; but when Willem appeared far down the path I waved. He picked up his speed to reach me.

"Mornin' Nudgie." He reached around behind me to grasp my braid, pulling it roughly. I jerked backwards as the force pulled me down, and glared angrily at Willem. He had released me the second I jerked back, his face rearranging into an apologetic expression. "Sorry," Willem said quickly. "I'm a lot stronger than I used to be." His voice trailed off, somewhat pathetically.

My eyes travelled along the expanse of his body, not as stealthily as I would have liked to appear. He was telling the truth; Willem has been working in the fields every day for the past month, and the effects of the back-breaking labor are evident. His shoulders, always too wide for the rest of his thin frame, no longer seemed quite so . His chest had filled out, and even beneath the material of his shirt I could see the strength of his arms.

Willem gazed steadily at me, trying to read my thoughts. I glanced back up at him, a few inches taller than myself, and offered a small smile. "I see that." Willem was frowning rather violently and I felt my eyebrows draw downward in confusion. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged those strong shoulders of his and mumbled something. I shot him a look, and eventually he repeated himself: "I hate it." I could hear everything else, hidden beneath those three words. Willem's voice quivered, and I grasped his arm and led him a short distance off the trail.

I knew exactly what was going through Willem's mind at that moment; we all have the same thoughts, buried deep within our brains. "I hate all of this!" Willem was struggling to keep his voice level and quiet enough so that none passing could hear him. All the tension and anger within him was causing Willem to leterally shake, his body vibrating. I didn't hesitate to reach out and tightly squeeze his forearms, whispering nonsensical words meant to soothe.

"I can't take this, Nudge. I can't stand being here much longer!" He wrenched his arms from my grasp and spun away from me. His fist shot outwards, connecting with the trunk of a nearby tree. A loud crack made me shutter, and Willem's voice rose to a shout as he cursed himself.

"Willem!" I jumped forward, despite the serious threat of another flying fist, and managed to get my arms around his torso. "Shh," I cooed, holding him tightly. "Just calm down, Will." He drew in a huge breath, and exhaled shakily. I breathed in with him the next time, feeling him begin to relax. One of his arms came around my shoulders, preventing me from pulling away from him.

My body was screaming to move away, to get some space, but I couldn't. As if from a distance, I heard footsteps approaching the spot, but my mind didn't make the connection. When everything clicked together, I froze, and tried to pull away from Willem. What if someone had heard what he had been saying? What if it were Overseer McCutchen, our cruel instructor? But when the figure stepped out of the shadows, I realized it was much, much worse.

"Crystal-Mae, dear."

"Father."


Dear Iggy,

I do not know what to think, nor where to go. Know that I would not bother you with such a request, if I had any other options. I returned home from our first semester of college together most likely much later than you yourself arrived, for I traveled only at night, a lone horseman, into the wilds of this great country. Now I have no feeling except regret, for not having made my way more swiftly.

Upon finally reaching the place of my birth, my only home for most of my life, I found it alive with flames. I could hear screams from within, and immediately tried to make it inside. To save my family. But I was not quick enough, not strong enough, for the roof collapsed and the fire ate away at everything inside. By the time neighbors arrived to help quench the inferno, it was already far too late.

I fled the scene immediately, not able to bear looking at it any longer. I can't think about anything right now. I'm sorry. I'll be seeing you soon.

Your most humble servant,

Nicholas Adrian Hawthorne

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

ONCE AGAIN, SORRY FOR THE MIXUP!

So guys, I've had someone mention the inconsistency of Nudge's narrative and her spoken word, and I completely agree, But my writing style is very descriptive, and a bit too sophisticated for her situation. So here's the deal: Do you want me to write in a more realistic way, or the way I normally do and allow your imaginations handle the accents?

Please, please, review, if only to answer my question! Thanks so much, everyone.

-Sam

Oh yeah, don't forget to check out "Incredibly Indescribable"!