*Evil cackle*
*from within the shadows*
Now you are mine! I have you in the palm of my hand, and you will all suffer the consequences to reading this chapter! I have the power!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!!!
*bonk*
Denra: OW!
Kate: You were doing it again *holding rubber mallet*.
D: *sheepish grin* Sorry . . .
K: *to readers* I must apologize, she had too much candy today.
D: CANDY?!?! WHERE!?!?! *searches frantically around room*
C: I had nothing to do with this, this is all Denra.
*in background* : CANDY!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
(Continue . . .)
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 5
"You were running away."
Mark seemed uneasy about the chosen subject.
"Yeah, so?" he demanded, zipping his backpack back up and placing it roughly in the wardrobe. Kate could see that it was a touchy subject for him, but the question was, *why* had he been running away?
"Why were you running away?" She asked softly, trying to catch his glance but did not succeed.
"It's a long story, and I'd rather not talk about it." He replied, though it had sounded harsher then he had intended.
Kate frowned and turned away.
"Fine, I don't care."
Silence filled the room and weighed down upon its two occupants. One, who wanted to talk, but couldn't; and the other, who wanted to know, but wouldn't ask.
It was Mark who broke the silence.
"Um, Kate?" he called, rather sheepishly.
"What?"
He looked unsure whether to ask his question, so Kate sighed heavily and pulled it out of him.
"Come on, spill. What is it?"
"Um," he started awkwardly, "Can I use your bathroom?"
Kate's jaw almost dropped at the thought, how were they going to deal with that problem? As she pondered this thought, Mark panicked.
"You *do* have a bathroom, right?" his voice showing his anxiety.
Kate waved him off, "Of course we have a bathroom. The whole problem is who to get you downstairs without anyone noticing . . . Hmmm . . ."
"Well, I could use it mostly at night, when everyone's asleep." Mark suggested, "But right now, I *really* need to go. I haven't been in two days!"
Kate nodded; slightly annoyed at all the problems he was causing, and grabbed her huge bathrobe. Then thought otherwise, threw it over her shoulder and went to her closet to get another item of clothing. This was a long, billowing, deep purple cloak. It reached down past her feet and had a hood to go with it. She spun around and threw it over Mark's head.
"Hey!" He complained, finding his way through the fabric.
Kate turned around to face him.
"Here's the plan. You go down stairs quietly, the bathroom is the second to the right once you go down the normal stairs, not the ones to my room. Just try to act like me and avoid any and ALL contact or communication with my parents? Simple enough?"
Mark, who had finally put the cloak on right, tied the strings and nodded.
"All except the "acting like you part". Which one sounds more convincing?" He cleared his throat and pitched his voice higher. " 'Oh! I'm Kate! Watch me let a human into Halloweentown!' or 'I'm scary! Watch me fall out of a tree!" He waved his arms in motion of the act as Kate glared at him in distaste.
"That's great, and while your downstairs, I'll stay up here and pretend to be you!" she in turn pitched her voice lower, "Look at me! I can't breathe! Help! Ah! Don't touch my books! Don't touch them!"
Mark frowned, "Well, at least I know the right way to read a book!"
"Well, at least I wasn't running away!"
"Well, at least I don't have to fret over my "reputation"!"
"Well . . . your eyes are weird."
"Well . . . you have, uh, long, red, uh . . .hair." Mark countered pathetically. Kate quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I have "long red hair"?" she mocked, stifling a giggle.
Mark growled in frustration, "Hey, it was the only thing I could think of. Besides, what's with "your eyes are weird"?"
Kate shook her head, reached up, and pulled the hood over Mark's head.
"Don't you have someplace to be?" she reminded, pushing him towards the trap door. He opened it hesitantly and looked back to Kate. She sighed angrily and repeated the directions to him; with a snap of the latch, he was gone. The Pumpkin Princess sat there for a few minutes on her bed, pondering on a thought. She came to a quick decision, rolled over to the other side and reopened the backpack. She looked quickly through the book bag and noticed there were also some sketch books along with the journals. She snatched the first journal up, zipped up the backpack and held the black and white "composition" book in her hands.
'It's a private thing . . . should I open it?' she thought. But curiosity won over reason and she opened the book. She observed that the pages were filled with neat, round handwriting, as she flipped through them; then she settled on the first page and began reading.
*The Child
By Mark Green*
(Kate paused, was this a story or a journal?)
*Many families consist of a mom, a dad, and a kid. The children, of course, can vary in number and there aren't always two parents. Some kids live with a relative, or maybe a close friend. But a family is made of people who care about each other, and love each other.
Unfortunately, there are those who aren't that lucky. There are places in the world, like orphanages, were they care for kids who don't have parents. Who have no one to turn to when life throws them a nasty curve ball. They are alone. Lost in a gap only family can fill.
The kids go through life thinking if they had something differently, maybe they wouldn't be where they now. Many times they sit there and talk about their families, whether they had been orphaned, abandoned, rejected, or abused, they all had a story, and they all dreamed of being adopted.
Sure enough, as the years went by, all of them were. Some went to homes immediately, where others went to fosters, where the couple fell in love with them and filed for the adoption papers. Then there are the few, who aren't picked. They are bounced from home to home every three months. Just long enough for the child to start one school and then have to transfer out and begin again. This kid, this boy, never made any friends; he had given up on that a long time ago. He was shunned for not having the right clothes, listening to the right music, or even a proper family. He was seen as an outcast, a young boy banned from the social tree. So he decided to lead the long and traitorous-
-Kate's head snapped up. There was a sound coming from the trap door. She shoved the book underneath her pillows and grabbed the other book (which had been at the end of her bed) and began reading it.
Mark slipped through the trap door and threw off the bathrobe.
"Since you're back, I'm guessing everything went well?" Kate asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Mark nodded, but then frowned.
"What were *you* doing this whole time?" he asked; Kate glanced at him over the top of her book.
"Reading, why?" she shot back. She wasn't *really* telling a lie . . .
Mark quirked an eyebrow at her and pointed at the book.
"It's upside-down again."
With that he was greeted with a pillow in his face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
D: FEEL MY RATH! FEEL MY POWA! FEEL- . . . O0o0o0o0!!! SNOW!!!! *runs outside and plays in it*
K: Ignore her, we just got snowed in for two days from school.
C: YAY! SNOW!!!!
K: *shakes head* I don't know why I even try . . .
*from within the shadows*
Now you are mine! I have you in the palm of my hand, and you will all suffer the consequences to reading this chapter! I have the power!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!!!
*bonk*
Denra: OW!
Kate: You were doing it again *holding rubber mallet*.
D: *sheepish grin* Sorry . . .
K: *to readers* I must apologize, she had too much candy today.
D: CANDY?!?! WHERE!?!?! *searches frantically around room*
C: I had nothing to do with this, this is all Denra.
*in background* : CANDY!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
(Continue . . .)
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 5
"You were running away."
Mark seemed uneasy about the chosen subject.
"Yeah, so?" he demanded, zipping his backpack back up and placing it roughly in the wardrobe. Kate could see that it was a touchy subject for him, but the question was, *why* had he been running away?
"Why were you running away?" She asked softly, trying to catch his glance but did not succeed.
"It's a long story, and I'd rather not talk about it." He replied, though it had sounded harsher then he had intended.
Kate frowned and turned away.
"Fine, I don't care."
Silence filled the room and weighed down upon its two occupants. One, who wanted to talk, but couldn't; and the other, who wanted to know, but wouldn't ask.
It was Mark who broke the silence.
"Um, Kate?" he called, rather sheepishly.
"What?"
He looked unsure whether to ask his question, so Kate sighed heavily and pulled it out of him.
"Come on, spill. What is it?"
"Um," he started awkwardly, "Can I use your bathroom?"
Kate's jaw almost dropped at the thought, how were they going to deal with that problem? As she pondered this thought, Mark panicked.
"You *do* have a bathroom, right?" his voice showing his anxiety.
Kate waved him off, "Of course we have a bathroom. The whole problem is who to get you downstairs without anyone noticing . . . Hmmm . . ."
"Well, I could use it mostly at night, when everyone's asleep." Mark suggested, "But right now, I *really* need to go. I haven't been in two days!"
Kate nodded; slightly annoyed at all the problems he was causing, and grabbed her huge bathrobe. Then thought otherwise, threw it over her shoulder and went to her closet to get another item of clothing. This was a long, billowing, deep purple cloak. It reached down past her feet and had a hood to go with it. She spun around and threw it over Mark's head.
"Hey!" He complained, finding his way through the fabric.
Kate turned around to face him.
"Here's the plan. You go down stairs quietly, the bathroom is the second to the right once you go down the normal stairs, not the ones to my room. Just try to act like me and avoid any and ALL contact or communication with my parents? Simple enough?"
Mark, who had finally put the cloak on right, tied the strings and nodded.
"All except the "acting like you part". Which one sounds more convincing?" He cleared his throat and pitched his voice higher. " 'Oh! I'm Kate! Watch me let a human into Halloweentown!' or 'I'm scary! Watch me fall out of a tree!" He waved his arms in motion of the act as Kate glared at him in distaste.
"That's great, and while your downstairs, I'll stay up here and pretend to be you!" she in turn pitched her voice lower, "Look at me! I can't breathe! Help! Ah! Don't touch my books! Don't touch them!"
Mark frowned, "Well, at least I know the right way to read a book!"
"Well, at least I wasn't running away!"
"Well, at least I don't have to fret over my "reputation"!"
"Well . . . your eyes are weird."
"Well . . . you have, uh, long, red, uh . . .hair." Mark countered pathetically. Kate quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I have "long red hair"?" she mocked, stifling a giggle.
Mark growled in frustration, "Hey, it was the only thing I could think of. Besides, what's with "your eyes are weird"?"
Kate shook her head, reached up, and pulled the hood over Mark's head.
"Don't you have someplace to be?" she reminded, pushing him towards the trap door. He opened it hesitantly and looked back to Kate. She sighed angrily and repeated the directions to him; with a snap of the latch, he was gone. The Pumpkin Princess sat there for a few minutes on her bed, pondering on a thought. She came to a quick decision, rolled over to the other side and reopened the backpack. She looked quickly through the book bag and noticed there were also some sketch books along with the journals. She snatched the first journal up, zipped up the backpack and held the black and white "composition" book in her hands.
'It's a private thing . . . should I open it?' she thought. But curiosity won over reason and she opened the book. She observed that the pages were filled with neat, round handwriting, as she flipped through them; then she settled on the first page and began reading.
*The Child
By Mark Green*
(Kate paused, was this a story or a journal?)
*Many families consist of a mom, a dad, and a kid. The children, of course, can vary in number and there aren't always two parents. Some kids live with a relative, or maybe a close friend. But a family is made of people who care about each other, and love each other.
Unfortunately, there are those who aren't that lucky. There are places in the world, like orphanages, were they care for kids who don't have parents. Who have no one to turn to when life throws them a nasty curve ball. They are alone. Lost in a gap only family can fill.
The kids go through life thinking if they had something differently, maybe they wouldn't be where they now. Many times they sit there and talk about their families, whether they had been orphaned, abandoned, rejected, or abused, they all had a story, and they all dreamed of being adopted.
Sure enough, as the years went by, all of them were. Some went to homes immediately, where others went to fosters, where the couple fell in love with them and filed for the adoption papers. Then there are the few, who aren't picked. They are bounced from home to home every three months. Just long enough for the child to start one school and then have to transfer out and begin again. This kid, this boy, never made any friends; he had given up on that a long time ago. He was shunned for not having the right clothes, listening to the right music, or even a proper family. He was seen as an outcast, a young boy banned from the social tree. So he decided to lead the long and traitorous-
-Kate's head snapped up. There was a sound coming from the trap door. She shoved the book underneath her pillows and grabbed the other book (which had been at the end of her bed) and began reading it.
Mark slipped through the trap door and threw off the bathrobe.
"Since you're back, I'm guessing everything went well?" Kate asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Mark nodded, but then frowned.
"What were *you* doing this whole time?" he asked; Kate glanced at him over the top of her book.
"Reading, why?" she shot back. She wasn't *really* telling a lie . . .
Mark quirked an eyebrow at her and pointed at the book.
"It's upside-down again."
With that he was greeted with a pillow in his face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
D: FEEL MY RATH! FEEL MY POWA! FEEL- . . . O0o0o0o0!!! SNOW!!!! *runs outside and plays in it*
K: Ignore her, we just got snowed in for two days from school.
C: YAY! SNOW!!!!
K: *shakes head* I don't know why I even try . . .