Broken Strings By HamClover

OOOOOOOOOOO

Yes it is the third chapter already. Heh. That's pretty good for me, since I have a serious problem with not finishing fics! (Take "Truly Nolan" and "Hammy Poller" for example) hits head Bad me! Bad, bad, me!

Random Fanboy: Oh no! Don't hurt yourself! It's okay that you don't finish lots of your fics! Everyone does sooner or later!

Clover: sniff, sniff Really?

Random Fanboy: Yeah, yeah! In fact we're not mad at you at all!

Clover: Oh yay!

Random Fanboy: Yes we all worship you! bows

Clover: jumps up and down I am loved!

Clover's Computer: No you're not, idiot. cracks whip Now get to work!

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Chapter 3-

Gladys woke up with dried tears on her cheeks. She slowly sat up and adjusted to the light. It was very late, about three o' clock. She daintily wiped her face.

"Why was I crying?" She thought to herself.

She soon remembered why.

"Oh," She said flatly.

Gladys gazed at the ground, reminiscing her dream...

"Come on! Hurry up you slowpoke!" Someone had shouted.

In her dream, Gladys was sitting in a field of poppies. The air had a nostalgic feel to it, as dreams often do.

"Where are you?" She snapped to the stranger calling her.

"Come play!" The voice called.

A confused Gladys stood up to find her summoner. "Where are you?" She asked again, louder than the last.

"Why won't you come play?" The voice asked.

Gladys screamed and jumped back in surprise. Because the strange voice belonged to Errol.

"Er-Errol!" Gladys sighed in relief.

"I want you to come play." Errol whispered softly.

Gladys stared at him, blushing slightly.

"Errol, we're too young to play those little games. You know that."

"But I found a really fun place."

"Errol! Please! Act more mature! You know my mother hates when you act childish like this!"

"Come play..." Errol scoffed.

"Errol! Stop it now! I don't want to play with you! We have to worry about other things, like chores, taking care of my mother, you have to be a responsible adult!" Gladys' voice hushed slightly as her eyes stared at a slow moving butterfly sitting on a poppy flower, her eyes began to fill with tears as she quietly murmured, "I don't want to marry someone who doesn't act their age..."

All was silent.

"Heh," Errol sneered, "You're no fun!"

Gladys quickly looked up, and found that Errol was no longer in front of her. Instead, it was her father.

Back in real life, Gladys shivered at the thought of her dream. She and Errol often bickered about things like responsibility and maturity. Errol always wanted to have a good time, and always managed to retain his inner child. Gladys, on the other hand, felt that work always came before play. Ever since Gladys' father had died, she felt that helping her mother with work would help ease the pain she and her mother had felt. Gladys being an only child was another factor. Her mother was always stressing about her health, because Gladys, at one point, did have siblings, but yet they died of a strange disease a few days after birth. Gladys was considered the lucky one for surviving.

"How am I the lucky one!?" Gladys asked herself. Tears began rolling down her cheeks again. "How am I lucky that my father and siblings died, and now my best friend is missing! How lucky is that!? Huh!?"

She beat her paw against the ground in frustration.

"No...no...it isn't lucky at all."

Gladys paused, realizing that she was not alone. Slowly looking up, she glanced over to Jingle, who was fitfully snoozing on Herbert's back. The sight made her smile a little.

And oh, how one little smile could make a big difference in one's day.