Chapter 9
Wow, nine chapters..... WOW! I never thought Trinity's story would be very good, and I never thought I'd reach this point. I'd like to thank all my reviewers, my internet chummies, my MSN buddies, you've all helped. Ferggirl99, Lil, Delorfirith, thanks for reviewing! Thanks for everyone who ever reviewed my chapter! I'm so glad I'm away from Mark now.
And yes, Dumbledore did die. Therefore, he will have to be replaced. I think the guy who plays Gandalf in LOTR would be good, but I dunno...
And two.... YES, TRINITY'S DAD WANTED TO SHOOT HIS DAUGHTER! But here's the thing... he THINKS he shot the gun, but remember, he's drunk, so we're not sure if he actually did. We think he did, due to the fact he says he did. (This chappie!) But we're not sure.
Note to disclaimers: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. Not this.
-Cold was good. Wind and rain were happiness. Rain washed away the sorrow, cleansing you, cleaning you anew. Wind dried you free. It covered you with protection, whipping across your face. It felt pain, but all recoveries were painful. They reminded you that life would have these things, but if you held on, you would make it. If you had faith, it would come, If you had nothing, you had something. If you had nothing, you had only Hope.-
It was a cold day, especially for November. There was snow, so early in the year. The old streets of Historic Properties were frosty and bus loads of tourists were wandering around, wondering why they hadn't brought warmer sweaters. It was always tourist season. All the cruise ships stopped there regularily. But even in the cold and breeze, there was warmth. Mothers went "Awww... how sweet." and smiled. For there were Trinity and Collin, walking along those very streets of quaint cafes and gift shops, little chocolate factories and boutiques.
He was VERY tall, almost towering above adults and grade nines. Well, not that tall, but close. Trinity was so skinny and shorter, she looked the height of a grade five or sixer. Her choppy, short hair blew along in the wind, but she liked it.
"Brr..." she said. It was so cold.
"I know," he said, "It's cold, isn't it?"
"I'll say," but she warmed up immidiately due to her blushing frenzy. That followed. Because, you see, they were walking so close they were practically leaning against each other.
"Want it?" he asked, and handed her his scarf.
Triniy was lost for a moment. She wanted the scarf, for two reasons, one, for the cold, and two, for the fact it was Collin's but it just wasn't... normal. She had never, ever, ever loved a boy. Once her father, but she didn't remember. Besides, her father was not a boy, but a man. And, it was different to love someone who was, well, related, and not someone who you would LIKE to be related too!
"Sure," she said, and instantly, she felt warmer. And it wasn't all the scarf, despite the fact Granny had done a plenty good job on it.
They walked further and further away along the historic properties until Trinity hardly reconised the place where she was. The shops were all the same stone lines and the cobblestone streets led on and on. The tourist- attracting horses galloped away, hooves clacking. The mist covering the harbour crept it's way to Trinity's nose. She pulled the scarf up.
"The food in there is good, isn't it?" Collin said slyly. The trap. The play. So perfect. He knew she hadn't.
"I don't know, I've never been there," she replied, and not to Collin's surprise.
"Well, do you want to try some?" he asked. The trap was set on a firm foundation.
Trinity looked at the good food and drink, hot with steam rising. Freshly baked. And there were people chatting, having a good time. It looked warm. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate whafted in the air. The trap was almost closed.
"Sure."
BOOM! The trap was sprung.
Collin grabbed her hand and almost pulled her across the street before she could even say a word. A snowball fell. Collin looked up. It was the kid, Harry. But there was a red-head guy with him. With a long scarf. And a little owl. They were sitting on the roof of the cafe, legs hanging over the side, occasionally dropping snow on the customers' heads. A little 'Ow!' was heard as the ice pellets hit them, but other than that, no one payed any attention to two odd boys sitting on the roof-top. They looked back down at him grinning, Harry especially.
"Nice one, Collin," Harry laughed. "You should try that one on Hermione, Ron."
Ron blushed and protested, "I don't like her. Try it on Cho!"
That prompted a full-fledge snowball war, and Collin rolled his eyes at the silly boys. He knew who they were. People, like angels. Things to help. But why he had come up to this point he did not know. Sure, he wouldn't throw a bible out, but religious just wasn't a word to describe him. He rolled his eyes again. Like he was smarter. Yeah, right.
They walked up the rock step carefully, as the were slippery with ice. Was that the reason Trinity hadn't let go of Collin's hand yet? Probably not, but a minor one, and a good excuse, which were both very important. Reasons and excuses were always important.
It was a real cafe. The stools and tables were very high, with a little basket of napkins and vase of flowers on each. The walls were a clean deep red, with white picture frames displaying various photos of food and flowers. The tall chairs that matched the table were black swirling posts of metal, very fancy and well decorated, like vines were creeping up and about to grab your feet. Their pillow was white and red ghigham (white/red pladish fabric) and the table cloth, bottom criss-crossed was the same.
Collin had no trouble getting up into the chair, but Trinity had to climb up it like a ladder. He stiffled a laugh as he saw her struggling to get up, and it came out like a crow choking. Trinity smiled shyly and blushed hard, yet again, for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour, or less.
"Hello," a female waitress, young but very stlylish approached them. She placed a menu infront of each person and walked off, though it looked more like she was sliding.
Trinity tried to focus on the menu. If, perhaps, she had read a book on the subject of being in a cafe with the boy you liked, she would have known to perhaps be brave and make eye contact, but very unfortunately, she hadn't read any manuel or book, or even magazine, so she tried to focus on questions such as 'How am I going to pay?' 'What should I order?' and 'How did I manage to get this far?!'
"What do you want?" Collin asked, looking into her eyes very deeply. The blush got redder.
"I.... I don't have any money," she stammered.
He laughed.
"It's on me," he grinned.
"No, it's just... not right. I get allowance, well, I got allowance..... but I babysit so I can pay for myself!" she protested independantly.
"With no money?" he asked, a trace of a smirk on his face.
"I'll pay you back," she said after a moment, glumly defeated. Again, if she had read the book, she would have realised that it was because he liked her, and not out of charity, that he was doing this.
The waitress came back again, five minutes later.
"Have you decided?" asked queried.
"Two hot chocolates..." Collin began and carried on, mentioning every detail and edge of the order.
Trinity looked away. But... over in the corner.... there it was. Three people. Ones she knew well.
"Harry," she whispered. And of course, Ron and Hermione. She heard laughter, and saw Hagrid and co. getting drunk, and a waitrees, of course, Madame Rosemerta. She began to feel slightly dizzy, but realized no one else noticed.
Collin had finnished ordering. There were a couple moments of silence but then....
"So," he began, trying to be bold.
"Yeah," she replied shyly.
"Wazzup,"
"Nothing much,"
"What did you do last night?"
Somehow, 'Slept comfortably without my father for the first time in ages' seemed a little too risky as a reply, after her mother had gone balistic over the address, so she replied, "Watched a little TV."
"Anything good on?"
"Not really,"
"Why did you change your phone number?"
"We just did," Trinity bit her lip.
"Can you write it down in my agenda?" he handed it to her.
She thought of what her mother would say. But then she knew he would never know. And besides, this was what she had dreamed of. Didn't dreams matter most?
"Sure," she said smiling and wrote it down on the front page.
And so the small talk went on. And on. And on. And on. Plenty to say. Nothing they would admit. Saying and thinking are very different. Collin wanted to say, "You look really nice." but he gave the much less dramatic, "I found your journal."
What Trinity wanted to say was "You're my first crush." but what she said was, "Thank you."
What Collin wanted to do was hug her, but what he did was hand her the journal. But, for once, one was brave. Collin leaned over, lips ready and everything. Trinity came towards him and suddenly....
"Your food is here."
They both immidiately drew back and studied their dishes, pretending to be very intrested in them as the waitress, who had no idea what she had interrupt, placed them on the table.
"Why do you write?" Collin asked once she had left.
Trinity glared sharply.
"You didn't read it, did you?" she whispered viciously.
"Uh.... no," Collin lied. He lied a lot, but this was different. He cared about Trinity, not that he didn't care about his parents, but it just wasn't the same.
Trinity loosened up a bit.
"I'm glad you found it, I was looking for it,in the meanwhile, I had to use looseleaf, which just doesn't keep secrets as well," she thanked him.
"But why do you write?" he repeated.
She stared at him blankly.
"Why do you play basketball?" she asked.
"Because I like it, I'm good at it," he replied.
"Exactly," Trinity said, a slight prim cough in her voice.
"But..... it's just writing. It's not exciting... or fun...." he wrinkled his nose.
"Would you believe that even though I'm sitting here, I'm not here," she asked in a whisper.
"No," replied Collin.
"Why?" she asked. It seemed to be a simple enough question, but he had a feeling the answer was complicated.
"Because.... I can see you, you're here. The pillow is down under you. You are solid. I can hear you. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch you," he replied as best he could.
"But, what if I'm not hear? What if I didn't see with my eyes, but with my head? What if I am here, but at the same time, I am sitting by a waterfall. The rock I am sitting on is large and gray, and beside it there are a few green ferns. Above me there are vines falling, going down. They brush on top of my head. There are large, pink flowers next to the ferns. The ground is slightly grassy and moist. The pool under the waterfall is shallow, and I can see the rocky bottom. The rocks are pale gray, light and flat, covered in algue so you could slide on them. I am atleast five meters (sorry, I can't do feet) above the water.... " Trinity began. (There is more to her description but it goes on for three pages and half of her writing I cannot read.)
"Do you see where I am?" she asked.
Collin nodded. He saw everything. From the gibbon in the tree to the large lilies. But gibbon? He was sure Trinity hadn't mentioned a gibbon. Where had it come from. Then he realised it. The place was REAL. Yes, there were probably a million places like it, but this was real in it's own fake way. It was real. Like Harry and Ron. Like Hermione and Hagrid. And Madame Rosemerta. Real.
It was a magic. Better than a wand or a unicorn, but pure magic. The magic to see what wasn't, to know the fake, to believe. To believe that life was beautiful. To accept everything you were given. To know you chose your destiny.
They finnished their meals. Collin payed, but Trinity hadn't forgotten.
"I'll pay you back," she promised fiercly.
As they walked back, Collin saw them. There, Dumbledor and MacGonaglal, in the window of the book store. Proffesor MacGonagal was saying something vainly, and dumbledor was laughing. Hagrid was plowing his motorcycle threw the calm streets. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were having a snowball fight. Hermione and Ginny were chatting and laughing, while examining their purchases. Malfroy, Crabbe, and Goyle were plotting evily in the corner. And the best was, they were real. Real to the heart. The best type of real ever.
"Good-bye!" Collin waved to Trinity.
"Bye!" she waved back.
And as Collin walked home, he realised that they didn't do anything as they had planned. The project hadn't even been started.
He got home and decided to maybe begin it. He looked threw his bag for his agenda with all the notes. It wasn't there.
"Oh (bleep)," he cursed. "Must 'ave left it in the cafe.... oh well, I'll get it tommorrow!" And then, as most males do, he went to sleep, and didn't even bother to research.
He was tired. Ted Poirier had looked everywhere for the stupid wife and kid. If he couldn't have them, no one could. He wouldn't let them get away, not with this! He decided to stop for a coffee in a little restauraunt.
He ordered it, and then plopped into one of the fancy chairs. On the table, something caught his eye. A little book, with a shiny cover. It had a list ofthings on the inside. Home phone number, Jim's phone number. Granny's. Poppa and Nanna's. Mom's work. Dad's work. Uncle Jake's house. But one thing caught his eye. In hasty writing, it read: 'Trinity's new #: 555-3455'. His search was over.
Collin was at home that night. The telephone rung. He cursed a bit, for it waking him, and then decided to actually pick it up. The amount of effort it took to move was enormous, but suddenly he felt strong enough to do it.
"'lo?" he asked the phone.
"555-3455! Thanks, boy! Hahahahaha (cough cough) hahahaha (burp) haha!" a raspy, drunken voice shouted.
"What are you on?" asked Collin and hung up the phone. He hadn't noticed whose number it was. He just went back to sleep.
It was late. Trinity entered appartment. No one was home. Her mother was out on late shift on her new job. Long, bad hours, mininmum wage. What could be better? But atleast it was honest work, and it was better than nothing.
She looked to see there was a message on the phone. She picked it up, and dialed in the password.
"You have: one-new-message," it bleeped. Trinity pressed star (*).
"Hahahaha...... you thought you could hide.... smart..... I shot our girl Maria..... well, atleast I almost did until you thieved her! I thought you were able, Maria! But be like that, it's like hunter and prey, and you're wearing orange on a white paper!" the raspy, drunken, familiar voice rang out.
Trinity deleted it, heart filled with terror. She ran to her room and started to sob. He had found them.
"Harry!" she cried.
OK.... So, I did some different stuff in that chapter. Did you like it? Do tell! I like constructive critisism. And also, this is probably the third last chapter in the first part. But the last chapter is some basic info.... like a really long author's note explaining about Trinity and her life living threw the abuse..... you'll get it when you see it. If you have any questions, please ask and I'll answer them. And also, if you were gonna addopt a little girl from a foreign country, what would her name be and where would she be from? Just wanna know.... it's coming up, kinda. So are the spoilers. Does anyone read author notes? I dunno.... we'll see!
Wow, nine chapters..... WOW! I never thought Trinity's story would be very good, and I never thought I'd reach this point. I'd like to thank all my reviewers, my internet chummies, my MSN buddies, you've all helped. Ferggirl99, Lil, Delorfirith, thanks for reviewing! Thanks for everyone who ever reviewed my chapter! I'm so glad I'm away from Mark now.
And yes, Dumbledore did die. Therefore, he will have to be replaced. I think the guy who plays Gandalf in LOTR would be good, but I dunno...
And two.... YES, TRINITY'S DAD WANTED TO SHOOT HIS DAUGHTER! But here's the thing... he THINKS he shot the gun, but remember, he's drunk, so we're not sure if he actually did. We think he did, due to the fact he says he did. (This chappie!) But we're not sure.
Note to disclaimers: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. Not this.
-Cold was good. Wind and rain were happiness. Rain washed away the sorrow, cleansing you, cleaning you anew. Wind dried you free. It covered you with protection, whipping across your face. It felt pain, but all recoveries were painful. They reminded you that life would have these things, but if you held on, you would make it. If you had faith, it would come, If you had nothing, you had something. If you had nothing, you had only Hope.-
It was a cold day, especially for November. There was snow, so early in the year. The old streets of Historic Properties were frosty and bus loads of tourists were wandering around, wondering why they hadn't brought warmer sweaters. It was always tourist season. All the cruise ships stopped there regularily. But even in the cold and breeze, there was warmth. Mothers went "Awww... how sweet." and smiled. For there were Trinity and Collin, walking along those very streets of quaint cafes and gift shops, little chocolate factories and boutiques.
He was VERY tall, almost towering above adults and grade nines. Well, not that tall, but close. Trinity was so skinny and shorter, she looked the height of a grade five or sixer. Her choppy, short hair blew along in the wind, but she liked it.
"Brr..." she said. It was so cold.
"I know," he said, "It's cold, isn't it?"
"I'll say," but she warmed up immidiately due to her blushing frenzy. That followed. Because, you see, they were walking so close they were practically leaning against each other.
"Want it?" he asked, and handed her his scarf.
Triniy was lost for a moment. She wanted the scarf, for two reasons, one, for the cold, and two, for the fact it was Collin's but it just wasn't... normal. She had never, ever, ever loved a boy. Once her father, but she didn't remember. Besides, her father was not a boy, but a man. And, it was different to love someone who was, well, related, and not someone who you would LIKE to be related too!
"Sure," she said, and instantly, she felt warmer. And it wasn't all the scarf, despite the fact Granny had done a plenty good job on it.
They walked further and further away along the historic properties until Trinity hardly reconised the place where she was. The shops were all the same stone lines and the cobblestone streets led on and on. The tourist- attracting horses galloped away, hooves clacking. The mist covering the harbour crept it's way to Trinity's nose. She pulled the scarf up.
"The food in there is good, isn't it?" Collin said slyly. The trap. The play. So perfect. He knew she hadn't.
"I don't know, I've never been there," she replied, and not to Collin's surprise.
"Well, do you want to try some?" he asked. The trap was set on a firm foundation.
Trinity looked at the good food and drink, hot with steam rising. Freshly baked. And there were people chatting, having a good time. It looked warm. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate whafted in the air. The trap was almost closed.
"Sure."
BOOM! The trap was sprung.
Collin grabbed her hand and almost pulled her across the street before she could even say a word. A snowball fell. Collin looked up. It was the kid, Harry. But there was a red-head guy with him. With a long scarf. And a little owl. They were sitting on the roof of the cafe, legs hanging over the side, occasionally dropping snow on the customers' heads. A little 'Ow!' was heard as the ice pellets hit them, but other than that, no one payed any attention to two odd boys sitting on the roof-top. They looked back down at him grinning, Harry especially.
"Nice one, Collin," Harry laughed. "You should try that one on Hermione, Ron."
Ron blushed and protested, "I don't like her. Try it on Cho!"
That prompted a full-fledge snowball war, and Collin rolled his eyes at the silly boys. He knew who they were. People, like angels. Things to help. But why he had come up to this point he did not know. Sure, he wouldn't throw a bible out, but religious just wasn't a word to describe him. He rolled his eyes again. Like he was smarter. Yeah, right.
They walked up the rock step carefully, as the were slippery with ice. Was that the reason Trinity hadn't let go of Collin's hand yet? Probably not, but a minor one, and a good excuse, which were both very important. Reasons and excuses were always important.
It was a real cafe. The stools and tables were very high, with a little basket of napkins and vase of flowers on each. The walls were a clean deep red, with white picture frames displaying various photos of food and flowers. The tall chairs that matched the table were black swirling posts of metal, very fancy and well decorated, like vines were creeping up and about to grab your feet. Their pillow was white and red ghigham (white/red pladish fabric) and the table cloth, bottom criss-crossed was the same.
Collin had no trouble getting up into the chair, but Trinity had to climb up it like a ladder. He stiffled a laugh as he saw her struggling to get up, and it came out like a crow choking. Trinity smiled shyly and blushed hard, yet again, for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour, or less.
"Hello," a female waitress, young but very stlylish approached them. She placed a menu infront of each person and walked off, though it looked more like she was sliding.
Trinity tried to focus on the menu. If, perhaps, she had read a book on the subject of being in a cafe with the boy you liked, she would have known to perhaps be brave and make eye contact, but very unfortunately, she hadn't read any manuel or book, or even magazine, so she tried to focus on questions such as 'How am I going to pay?' 'What should I order?' and 'How did I manage to get this far?!'
"What do you want?" Collin asked, looking into her eyes very deeply. The blush got redder.
"I.... I don't have any money," she stammered.
He laughed.
"It's on me," he grinned.
"No, it's just... not right. I get allowance, well, I got allowance..... but I babysit so I can pay for myself!" she protested independantly.
"With no money?" he asked, a trace of a smirk on his face.
"I'll pay you back," she said after a moment, glumly defeated. Again, if she had read the book, she would have realised that it was because he liked her, and not out of charity, that he was doing this.
The waitress came back again, five minutes later.
"Have you decided?" asked queried.
"Two hot chocolates..." Collin began and carried on, mentioning every detail and edge of the order.
Trinity looked away. But... over in the corner.... there it was. Three people. Ones she knew well.
"Harry," she whispered. And of course, Ron and Hermione. She heard laughter, and saw Hagrid and co. getting drunk, and a waitrees, of course, Madame Rosemerta. She began to feel slightly dizzy, but realized no one else noticed.
Collin had finnished ordering. There were a couple moments of silence but then....
"So," he began, trying to be bold.
"Yeah," she replied shyly.
"Wazzup,"
"Nothing much,"
"What did you do last night?"
Somehow, 'Slept comfortably without my father for the first time in ages' seemed a little too risky as a reply, after her mother had gone balistic over the address, so she replied, "Watched a little TV."
"Anything good on?"
"Not really,"
"Why did you change your phone number?"
"We just did," Trinity bit her lip.
"Can you write it down in my agenda?" he handed it to her.
She thought of what her mother would say. But then she knew he would never know. And besides, this was what she had dreamed of. Didn't dreams matter most?
"Sure," she said smiling and wrote it down on the front page.
And so the small talk went on. And on. And on. And on. Plenty to say. Nothing they would admit. Saying and thinking are very different. Collin wanted to say, "You look really nice." but he gave the much less dramatic, "I found your journal."
What Trinity wanted to say was "You're my first crush." but what she said was, "Thank you."
What Collin wanted to do was hug her, but what he did was hand her the journal. But, for once, one was brave. Collin leaned over, lips ready and everything. Trinity came towards him and suddenly....
"Your food is here."
They both immidiately drew back and studied their dishes, pretending to be very intrested in them as the waitress, who had no idea what she had interrupt, placed them on the table.
"Why do you write?" Collin asked once she had left.
Trinity glared sharply.
"You didn't read it, did you?" she whispered viciously.
"Uh.... no," Collin lied. He lied a lot, but this was different. He cared about Trinity, not that he didn't care about his parents, but it just wasn't the same.
Trinity loosened up a bit.
"I'm glad you found it, I was looking for it,in the meanwhile, I had to use looseleaf, which just doesn't keep secrets as well," she thanked him.
"But why do you write?" he repeated.
She stared at him blankly.
"Why do you play basketball?" she asked.
"Because I like it, I'm good at it," he replied.
"Exactly," Trinity said, a slight prim cough in her voice.
"But..... it's just writing. It's not exciting... or fun...." he wrinkled his nose.
"Would you believe that even though I'm sitting here, I'm not here," she asked in a whisper.
"No," replied Collin.
"Why?" she asked. It seemed to be a simple enough question, but he had a feeling the answer was complicated.
"Because.... I can see you, you're here. The pillow is down under you. You are solid. I can hear you. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch you," he replied as best he could.
"But, what if I'm not hear? What if I didn't see with my eyes, but with my head? What if I am here, but at the same time, I am sitting by a waterfall. The rock I am sitting on is large and gray, and beside it there are a few green ferns. Above me there are vines falling, going down. They brush on top of my head. There are large, pink flowers next to the ferns. The ground is slightly grassy and moist. The pool under the waterfall is shallow, and I can see the rocky bottom. The rocks are pale gray, light and flat, covered in algue so you could slide on them. I am atleast five meters (sorry, I can't do feet) above the water.... " Trinity began. (There is more to her description but it goes on for three pages and half of her writing I cannot read.)
"Do you see where I am?" she asked.
Collin nodded. He saw everything. From the gibbon in the tree to the large lilies. But gibbon? He was sure Trinity hadn't mentioned a gibbon. Where had it come from. Then he realised it. The place was REAL. Yes, there were probably a million places like it, but this was real in it's own fake way. It was real. Like Harry and Ron. Like Hermione and Hagrid. And Madame Rosemerta. Real.
It was a magic. Better than a wand or a unicorn, but pure magic. The magic to see what wasn't, to know the fake, to believe. To believe that life was beautiful. To accept everything you were given. To know you chose your destiny.
They finnished their meals. Collin payed, but Trinity hadn't forgotten.
"I'll pay you back," she promised fiercly.
As they walked back, Collin saw them. There, Dumbledor and MacGonaglal, in the window of the book store. Proffesor MacGonagal was saying something vainly, and dumbledor was laughing. Hagrid was plowing his motorcycle threw the calm streets. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were having a snowball fight. Hermione and Ginny were chatting and laughing, while examining their purchases. Malfroy, Crabbe, and Goyle were plotting evily in the corner. And the best was, they were real. Real to the heart. The best type of real ever.
"Good-bye!" Collin waved to Trinity.
"Bye!" she waved back.
And as Collin walked home, he realised that they didn't do anything as they had planned. The project hadn't even been started.
He got home and decided to maybe begin it. He looked threw his bag for his agenda with all the notes. It wasn't there.
"Oh (bleep)," he cursed. "Must 'ave left it in the cafe.... oh well, I'll get it tommorrow!" And then, as most males do, he went to sleep, and didn't even bother to research.
He was tired. Ted Poirier had looked everywhere for the stupid wife and kid. If he couldn't have them, no one could. He wouldn't let them get away, not with this! He decided to stop for a coffee in a little restauraunt.
He ordered it, and then plopped into one of the fancy chairs. On the table, something caught his eye. A little book, with a shiny cover. It had a list ofthings on the inside. Home phone number, Jim's phone number. Granny's. Poppa and Nanna's. Mom's work. Dad's work. Uncle Jake's house. But one thing caught his eye. In hasty writing, it read: 'Trinity's new #: 555-3455'. His search was over.
Collin was at home that night. The telephone rung. He cursed a bit, for it waking him, and then decided to actually pick it up. The amount of effort it took to move was enormous, but suddenly he felt strong enough to do it.
"'lo?" he asked the phone.
"555-3455! Thanks, boy! Hahahahaha (cough cough) hahahaha (burp) haha!" a raspy, drunken voice shouted.
"What are you on?" asked Collin and hung up the phone. He hadn't noticed whose number it was. He just went back to sleep.
It was late. Trinity entered appartment. No one was home. Her mother was out on late shift on her new job. Long, bad hours, mininmum wage. What could be better? But atleast it was honest work, and it was better than nothing.
She looked to see there was a message on the phone. She picked it up, and dialed in the password.
"You have: one-new-message," it bleeped. Trinity pressed star (*).
"Hahahaha...... you thought you could hide.... smart..... I shot our girl Maria..... well, atleast I almost did until you thieved her! I thought you were able, Maria! But be like that, it's like hunter and prey, and you're wearing orange on a white paper!" the raspy, drunken, familiar voice rang out.
Trinity deleted it, heart filled with terror. She ran to her room and started to sob. He had found them.
"Harry!" she cried.
OK.... So, I did some different stuff in that chapter. Did you like it? Do tell! I like constructive critisism. And also, this is probably the third last chapter in the first part. But the last chapter is some basic info.... like a really long author's note explaining about Trinity and her life living threw the abuse..... you'll get it when you see it. If you have any questions, please ask and I'll answer them. And also, if you were gonna addopt a little girl from a foreign country, what would her name be and where would she be from? Just wanna know.... it's coming up, kinda. So are the spoilers. Does anyone read author notes? I dunno.... we'll see!