This is something I conjured up today, and it acts as a prologue to a novel I am currently planning, and is a first draft + a quick once-over check. Seeing as it is the first thing a reader will (hopefully) read, the plot needs no explaining, as the actual 'story' plot is not introduced yet, just the premise.
Please critique my work, I like criticism just as much as praise, so don't be scared to hurt my feelings
Also, I know it seems exceptionally long because everything is spaced out, but this is purely because it's too hard to read because the formatting changes when copied into this box - this is about 1400 words, in reality. I hope you enjoy...- - - -
Prologue
Annie frowned at the muddy little boy in front of her, and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. His clothes were ripped at the joints; elbows, knees, and shoulders bare and freshly brown. He looked up at her expectantly, a greying wisp of a lily in his hand.
"Lewy," she sighed, dragging a hand across her scalp, fingers tangling in her pale hair, "Why are you so dirty?"
"I got this for you." He shook the limp stem of the flower, his vice grip threatening to tear it in two. Annie curled her upper lip at the sight of his wide-toothed grin, teeth missing, shining against a face smeared with dirt. She slowly squeezed the flower's stem with two fingers, taking the gift and laying it on the patio next to her, almost an arm's length away.
"Go and wash, you silly boy."
Lewy looked down at himself, and nodded resolutely.
"Mum will be angry...,” he muttered to himself as he sauntered past her, up the patio and into the house. Annie looked back at the flower, which was curling itself into a paper-thin ball as the November chill set in. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Where Lewy's grubby hands had ripped it from its bed, its stalk was bent and a few petals were missing. Annie looked back up towards the house; Lewy was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, she stood up, boots crunching in the frost, and headed down the garden. The lawn was her father's pride, immaculate, mown in straight lines, with beds of white, purple, and green flowers all around. Annie looked around, finding a suitable burial site for the ruined flower. Winter had reduced most of the beds to a crumbling mess: The lily, white on black, would stick out. Humming to herself, Annie turned about the garden, until her eyes settled on the pong. Half frozen-over, it was murky, with shards of ice floating on top. Looking at the house, Annie dropped the flower into the water, disrupting the calm.
"No!" A raucous scream resonated through the silence of the late afternoon. Annie turned. His face scrunched into a red, fat-cheeked grimace, Lewy howled, running full pelt towards the pond. He dropped to his knees, splashing his hands into the water, clawing at the reeds for his flower.
"Lewy, stop," Annie began, pulling on his shoulders, which were almost flush with the pond's bank, "Come on."
Another scream. This time, it was Annie. In a split second of brain-numbing fear, Annie lost control of her body. She blinked once; Lewy's feet were the last thing to disappear before he was entirely submerged. She stared as he floundered in the water, his screams mere bubbles on the surface. A moment passed before her body snapped into action. She grabbed him, pulling him towards the surface. His body stuck fast, slimy weeds snaking around his legs and anchoring him to the ground. Blinded by his splashing, Annie grappled with the plants until he fell limp in her arms, his white face lolling in the crook her arm. His eyes were closed.
"Oh no, no." Annie shook his body, her fingers ripping at the weeds that had ensnared him, but to no avail. Tears rose in her eyes, and she looked up to the house. There was silence; no one had answered his screams. Trembling, Annie looked between Lewy and the house before pushing his body from hers, and scrambling up the garden and inside, a vile concoction of fear and guilt attacking the back of her throat. She made for the stairs, crashing into her bedroom seconds later, breathing heavily, listening for the sounds of her family, and Lewy's.
An hour later, in dry clothes and sobbing against her doorframe, Annie heard a scream that shot up her spine, stabbing at her ears and forcing her to clutch them, her head bowed into her chest. The house rumbled as footsteps pounded on the floors and down the stairs. Doors slammed, shouts, cries. Annie wiped her face, and inhaled deeply. She made for the door, her back rigid as she walked down the stairs and towards the lounge, where the whimpers of Mrs Carter could be heard, each sound a long, drawn-out wail that threatened Annie with more tears as she pushed open the door, and stepped inside. She placed a hand over her mouth, mock horror liberally painted on her face as she was greeted by the silent, unblinking stares of her family and their guests, each with tears streaming down their faces, and no sight of Lewy.
***
They took Lewy's body away within the hour. A sombre, grey cloud settled over the two families as they sat in the lounge, murmuring conversation, the tears still curving their way down each sullen face. In the far corner of the room, Annie sat alone. She watched as Lewy's grieving parents were comforted by hers, three empty wine bottles scattered at their feet. Away from them, the Carter's oldest son, James, sat on the floor, his head resting against the misty window. Outside, rain clouds approached, swelling against the wind and blocking out the last rays of sun before it dropped below the horizon. By his side, under the comfort of his arm, was Rose. Annie felt her face sag as James pulled her little sister onto his lap. Rose was crying as she buried her face into his chest, and crumpling his shirt into her fists.
"Ssh, hush now." Annie leaned forward to listen, her eyes firmly set on James. He was a few years older than her, muscular and tall. Black hair covered his face as he looked down, nestling Rose under his chin, her auburn curls splayed out across his face as he kissed her head. Heat rose in Annie's cheeks as James wrapped his arms fully around her sister, whispering into her ear.
Annie rose from her seat, tiptoeing unsteadily to where James sat. She crawled next to him, a weak smile on her face.
"Hi," she said, stroking Rose's hair as he cradled the weeping girl, "I'm so sorry." Annie moved her hand to his forearm, where it remained for a moment. He nodded, but his eyes stayed focused on Rose, who blubbered and choked on her words.
"Why did she have to find him?" James replied, his rough, calloused hands barely touching Rose's skin as he stroked her purpling, tear-stained face. Annie bit her tongue, sickness simmering in her stomach. She closed her eyes, feeling the icy pond water stinging her face once more.
"So cruel," Annie whispered, rubbing her forehead and looking away, "Bless his soul."
"Hey, you," James cooed, releasing Rose from his arms to pull at the cuff of his shirt. Annie looked up, eyebrows raised, as he pulled a thin silver chain from his wrist.
"It's a bit big now, but I want you to keep it." He slid the bracelet onto Rose's tiny hand, and looked up at Annie for the first time. "I'm gonna miss this place," he sighed, brows furrowed, "I'm gonna miss you, little lady." He kissed Rose again as she nuzzled into his chest, and they embraced. Annie stared as James began to stroke Rose's hair once more, looking out of the French glass doors, and into the back garden.
"Why will you miss this place?" She asked, raising her voice in an effort to turn his head.
"Leaving tonight," he started, his voice drifting, "My country needs me."
"Your family needs you!" Annie hissed, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She fought back, chewing on her lip until she drew blood.
"They'll get by, they have each other." He turned back to her, his eyes narrowed into a fierce gaze. Annie flushed pink, and looked away quickly.
"Well, what about Rose? She'll miss you, I'll miss you!"
"And I'll miss her too, but I can't stay here." He grunted, burying his face in Rose's hair and staring at the floor. Annie let the tears fall, her heart ripping open with each passing second that he ignored her eyes, and drew her sister closer to him. Annie crossed her arms against her chest and leaned backwards against the wall, eyes half closed and burning hot as she watched Rose rise up and press her forehead against James, eyes twinkling with tears. James laughed as Rose pulled on his ears and stuck her tongue out, wagging it from side to side. Annie clenched her fists under each arm before turning her back and lying against the wall, her face wet with tears, her ears ringing with Lewy's screams.
