Disclaimer: obviously none of this belongs to me. Duh. I would be very sad if it did, because then I would own Great Expectations. This is a G.E. fic by the way.
Trabb's Boy
Hello. You probably have no idea who I am. Most people don't. It's ok. I'm used to it by now. Some freak named Charles Dickens put me in a book. My name is John Stewart. I am 19 years old, and I live in Kent. That's in England for all you illiterate people.
When I was nine years old, my father ran off with the town prostitute. He never came back. My mother, sweet lady as she was, never quite recovered. You see, I was the fifth child of ten. My brother Robert was the oldest, at fifteen. He tried very hard to be a good surrogate father, but it was never quite enough. Then came Martha, who was fourteen. She took care of all us younger children. My brother William, twelve, was always getting into trouble. I have a twin sister named Annabella, who was so ridiculously frivolous that she never quite grasped the fact that we were on our own. Sadly, she was my elder sister by twenty-three minutes. The next youngest after me was James. He was eight, and probably my favorite sibling. After us, there were Rebecca, age six, Mary, age four, Frederick, age two, and the baby Elizabeth.
Shortly after my father left, my mother resorted to drinking. By my eleventh birthday, she had gone completely insane. Robert and Martha were forced into caring for us younger ones, and everyone old enough to work had to find a job. I, being the resourceful person I am, left my education and became employed at the local tailor. Trabb, his name was. It was menial labor at most. Just moving boxes and such back and forth, and occasionally running an order to a customer. I had been working there for a couple years when Pip, a boy about my age, came in and dropped a bag of money on the counter. I didn't much like Pip, as he had often made fun of my large family and drunkard mother when we were young. It seemed he had won a scholarship or something of the sort. Of course Mr. Trabb, seeing all the money, promptly began treating me like a common slave. I hated Pip with a passion from that day forth.
After Pip had long gone to London, I began to visit Miss Havisham. While there, I met Estella. To make a ridiculously long story short, we fell in love. We were affianced, but that dratted Pip had to come back and steal her heart away. I tell you, when I saw him that night, and led his friend through the town, I wanted him to die. I still do. I HATE PIP. But the thing is, no one will ever read this. No one will ever care. To the world, I am merely Trabb's Boy.
A/N: I just had to write that. I know it's short, but I just had a short idea.
Love to all and Happy Christmas, Guinea.