The amazing (har har har) author of this story stands before her readers to
deliver her awe-inspiring speech. Clearing her throat, she begins, "Dear
all my beautiful readers, I love you all and---" Without warning, the
lights go out and everything is dark. (Well duh!)
"Stupid lights! Hang on. I gotta go see what that was all about. Please, feel free to help yourself to the goldfish crackers and kool aid. I apologize that they were the only things that my freakishly cheap budget could afford! Be back in a Jiffy!"
Leaving her readers behind, she goes off to search for the circuit breaker. Her perfectly calm readers sit and talk amongst themselves until a lone reader's shrill cry is heard. Everyone's attention turns towards a dark, bony, sickly looking figure hobbling their way, trailing a ball and chain behind him.
"No! No! Please, don't be frightened!" he pleas, his voice hoarse and cracking, while flailing his arms for silence. "Please, I have come to warn you all, the- the author, she is not well," his vast blue eyes widened, as if the mere thought frightened him. "She-she lives off of reviews, breaths them, feeds off of them. And," The man's voice drifted off as he steadied himself on a near-by chair before continuing, "and her supply is running low. She feels unloved; it's taking a toll on her writing. You have to help her.I must go now; I think I've said too much " he said, quickly glancing behind his shoulder as he began to fearfully shake, "If he finds I've escaped, who knows what he will do? But back to the matter at hand, you know what you must do."
And with that, the man was gone and the lights were switched back on. "Wow, that was strange!" The author's voice was heard as she re entered the room. "Don't you just hate that when lights just randomly decide to turn off and then come back on right when you were inches from the circuit box? Anywhoo, where was I? Oh yes! I love you all for your undying support and hope that you continue...."
GEEZ! ON WITH THE DANG STORY ALREADY!!!
Gordo had been uncomfortably sitting in the carriage that was taking him and other men from his town to the battlegrounds for hours. He was unable to comprehend how he was going to survive the three-day trip to the northernmost point of Tallulah. As he shifted his weight and sighed from boredom and nervousness, he began rummaging through his small bag that Elizabeth had made up for him last night. He ran his fingers over the simple contents, an extra change of clothes, some food for the trip, paper, a pen and some ink. She had made him promise that he'd write every other day so she would know he was all right, even if the mail was only collected and sent once every week. Did the time spent on the dull trip there count? He sighed again and put his head back on the stiff, hard wooden seat backing. This morning he had reluctantly followed the simple instructions on his note, gotten to town before sunrise to catch his ride, got his bag ready with the bare necessities, everything of that sort. But even with the sheer simplicity of the matter, everything seemed horribly complicated.
This day had come far too quickly.
~*~*~*Flashback~*~*~*
Elizabeth had been treating him like he was dying all day. She had insisted to bring him pillows everywhere he sat down, she had him put up his feet, she asked him if he needed a blanket. Gordo watched her as she slowly wore herself out but had insisted that "no! I am doing fine!" and "Don't you dare move, I can take care of it!" That night, she even cut his food up for him. Gordo fought very hard to hold back an annoyed sigh as she hovered over his plate, cutting his beans into such tiny pieces that he could barely pick them up with his fork, he didn't even need to chew them. She had put so much butter on his bread that the fat coated his tongue and knew that his stomach would be very angry later on. But it was when she was filling his water glass back up to the brim every time he took the smallest sip that almost made him crack. She was making him crazy but he was too concerned to tell her so. He was too afraid that she would get the wrong idea. The last thing that he wanted would be to make her even more upset then she already was.
What if he never saw her again? As horrible as the idea was, it was still a possibility. This is war, after all. There must be casualties from both sides.
He gave Elizabeth a forced smile when she had cleared the table and rolled his eyes once her back was turned to wash the dishes.
Gordo looked quizzically at her fifteen minutes after she had begun washing and was yet to pick up the next dish.
"Elizabeth?" he cautiously asked, at once feeling ashamed for doing such a childish act at a time like this.
She turned towards him; a distant, glazed look clouded her eyes. "Hmmm?" she murmured, not stopping her methodic rubbing of the warn dishrag upon the smooth, clean surface.
"Would you like help with that?" he asked, beginning to rise from his chair, his pillow that Elizabeth had insisted to be propped behind him dropped to the floor. When she didn't answer, he took the plate from her hands and began to dry it. "I must say, you did a very thorough job of washing this one, honey." He said, hoping to see a hint of a smile grace her impassive face.
His comment did not generate the desired effect, though. At this moment, Elizabeth dropped to her knees in a fit of hysterical sobs. "You can't go!" she exclaimed, grabbing on to Gordo's knees, making them buckle and almost fall on top of her," You just can't! What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt?" She continued to ramble on with a list of every single scenario of things that could possibly go wrong. "I'm going to be fine!" Gordo tried to convince her, and himself, for that matter. "Ill be back before you know it! Everything is going to be fine, you'll see!"
"Oh! I am such an awful wife!" She wailed, moving her grip from Gordo to her hair and began rocking. All the while keeping her head down, too ashamed to look him in the face.
"Don't say that, you are nothing of the sort." Gordo comforted her; softly taking her chin and making her look up.
She put her head back down the moment he released her and continued to cry, but not as violently as before. "But I am! It should be me helping you through this, not the other way around! You don't need to be worried about me on top of everything else!"
~*~*~End Flashback~*~*~*~
But he was worried about her, nothing could stop that. What was she doing? Was she still upset? He hoped she wouldn't be. He wasn't in danger, not yet at least.
Well? How was that for you? It turned out shorter then I'd hoped, I wish that it is enough for you people!( * crosses fingers*) Please be enough! Lol! I have part of the next chapter typed already; I hope that I can get the rest done soon. Please tell me what you think of it so far! Thanks!
"Stupid lights! Hang on. I gotta go see what that was all about. Please, feel free to help yourself to the goldfish crackers and kool aid. I apologize that they were the only things that my freakishly cheap budget could afford! Be back in a Jiffy!"
Leaving her readers behind, she goes off to search for the circuit breaker. Her perfectly calm readers sit and talk amongst themselves until a lone reader's shrill cry is heard. Everyone's attention turns towards a dark, bony, sickly looking figure hobbling their way, trailing a ball and chain behind him.
"No! No! Please, don't be frightened!" he pleas, his voice hoarse and cracking, while flailing his arms for silence. "Please, I have come to warn you all, the- the author, she is not well," his vast blue eyes widened, as if the mere thought frightened him. "She-she lives off of reviews, breaths them, feeds off of them. And," The man's voice drifted off as he steadied himself on a near-by chair before continuing, "and her supply is running low. She feels unloved; it's taking a toll on her writing. You have to help her.I must go now; I think I've said too much " he said, quickly glancing behind his shoulder as he began to fearfully shake, "If he finds I've escaped, who knows what he will do? But back to the matter at hand, you know what you must do."
And with that, the man was gone and the lights were switched back on. "Wow, that was strange!" The author's voice was heard as she re entered the room. "Don't you just hate that when lights just randomly decide to turn off and then come back on right when you were inches from the circuit box? Anywhoo, where was I? Oh yes! I love you all for your undying support and hope that you continue...."
GEEZ! ON WITH THE DANG STORY ALREADY!!!
Gordo had been uncomfortably sitting in the carriage that was taking him and other men from his town to the battlegrounds for hours. He was unable to comprehend how he was going to survive the three-day trip to the northernmost point of Tallulah. As he shifted his weight and sighed from boredom and nervousness, he began rummaging through his small bag that Elizabeth had made up for him last night. He ran his fingers over the simple contents, an extra change of clothes, some food for the trip, paper, a pen and some ink. She had made him promise that he'd write every other day so she would know he was all right, even if the mail was only collected and sent once every week. Did the time spent on the dull trip there count? He sighed again and put his head back on the stiff, hard wooden seat backing. This morning he had reluctantly followed the simple instructions on his note, gotten to town before sunrise to catch his ride, got his bag ready with the bare necessities, everything of that sort. But even with the sheer simplicity of the matter, everything seemed horribly complicated.
This day had come far too quickly.
~*~*~*Flashback~*~*~*
Elizabeth had been treating him like he was dying all day. She had insisted to bring him pillows everywhere he sat down, she had him put up his feet, she asked him if he needed a blanket. Gordo watched her as she slowly wore herself out but had insisted that "no! I am doing fine!" and "Don't you dare move, I can take care of it!" That night, she even cut his food up for him. Gordo fought very hard to hold back an annoyed sigh as she hovered over his plate, cutting his beans into such tiny pieces that he could barely pick them up with his fork, he didn't even need to chew them. She had put so much butter on his bread that the fat coated his tongue and knew that his stomach would be very angry later on. But it was when she was filling his water glass back up to the brim every time he took the smallest sip that almost made him crack. She was making him crazy but he was too concerned to tell her so. He was too afraid that she would get the wrong idea. The last thing that he wanted would be to make her even more upset then she already was.
What if he never saw her again? As horrible as the idea was, it was still a possibility. This is war, after all. There must be casualties from both sides.
He gave Elizabeth a forced smile when she had cleared the table and rolled his eyes once her back was turned to wash the dishes.
Gordo looked quizzically at her fifteen minutes after she had begun washing and was yet to pick up the next dish.
"Elizabeth?" he cautiously asked, at once feeling ashamed for doing such a childish act at a time like this.
She turned towards him; a distant, glazed look clouded her eyes. "Hmmm?" she murmured, not stopping her methodic rubbing of the warn dishrag upon the smooth, clean surface.
"Would you like help with that?" he asked, beginning to rise from his chair, his pillow that Elizabeth had insisted to be propped behind him dropped to the floor. When she didn't answer, he took the plate from her hands and began to dry it. "I must say, you did a very thorough job of washing this one, honey." He said, hoping to see a hint of a smile grace her impassive face.
His comment did not generate the desired effect, though. At this moment, Elizabeth dropped to her knees in a fit of hysterical sobs. "You can't go!" she exclaimed, grabbing on to Gordo's knees, making them buckle and almost fall on top of her," You just can't! What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt?" She continued to ramble on with a list of every single scenario of things that could possibly go wrong. "I'm going to be fine!" Gordo tried to convince her, and himself, for that matter. "Ill be back before you know it! Everything is going to be fine, you'll see!"
"Oh! I am such an awful wife!" She wailed, moving her grip from Gordo to her hair and began rocking. All the while keeping her head down, too ashamed to look him in the face.
"Don't say that, you are nothing of the sort." Gordo comforted her; softly taking her chin and making her look up.
She put her head back down the moment he released her and continued to cry, but not as violently as before. "But I am! It should be me helping you through this, not the other way around! You don't need to be worried about me on top of everything else!"
~*~*~End Flashback~*~*~*~
But he was worried about her, nothing could stop that. What was she doing? Was she still upset? He hoped she wouldn't be. He wasn't in danger, not yet at least.
Well? How was that for you? It turned out shorter then I'd hoped, I wish that it is enough for you people!( * crosses fingers*) Please be enough! Lol! I have part of the next chapter typed already; I hope that I can get the rest done soon. Please tell me what you think of it so far! Thanks!