z

Young Writers Society


12+ Violence

How Our Paths Crossed Part 2

by Amabilia


Keep in mind that I don't have this story broken up into chapters yet, so the ending may be a little choppy. Also, when I copy this from where I write it, the italics(the things that make the font do this) don't get put onto YWS. Thanks for reading!

Allie ran across the small backyard into the forest behind. It was the first time the entire month they had been there that both of her parents were gone all day. She felt free after a whole month of having her hair down. It was finally up and covered with a school boy’s cap. She would surely fool anyone who saw her into thinking she was a man.

Climbing up a tree in her beloved trousers, she pulled out a small kitchen knife and started cutting a small limb of the tree off. It took several minutes of labor before the stick came off the tree. She stripped it of bark and started getting it ready to be her new bow. Allie then cut holes in the ends of it and shaped the wood so that is was curved. Only when she looked up from her work did she realize it had taken hours. By the sun, it looked about two o'clock.

Allie started putting small designs on it. She cut the shape of the design then grabbed some long grass and dipped the end of it in some mashed berries. As she started to paint the wood, a rustle in the tall grass startled her. Jumping down from her perch in the tree, she looked around, moving towards the grass. She pushed it aside, looking for anything that could have made a noise.

Suddenly, a small yelp caught her attention. She hurried towards the sound and when she reached it she saw a small puppy caught in a raccoon trap. Allie gasped and quickly released the trap. The dog tried to run off, but its leg was injured. Slowly moving towards it, she wrapped her hands around its abdomen, taking extra care to be gentle.

Taking its foot in her hand, it seemed to be broken. Allie gathered a stick and several long pieces of grass and made a makeshift splint. She picked him up and moved back to her bow-in-progress. Setting him down, she started to work on it once again. The puppy seemed to be a golden retriever.

“What shall we call you, little man?” Her only response was a small yip as he sat, watching her work. “Georgie? Leopold? Henry?” He didn’t respond to any of those. “You have to choose a name, little man.” He yipped again. “Wait, Little Man?” Another yip. “Alright then, but you chose a strange name,” she grinned, amused that the tiny dog had picked out his own name.

Finishing with the paint, she held the wood away from her and in the light. “Stunning, isn’t it? I have an older one back home in England, but this one is just as beautiful,” she said to Little Man. “All it needs is a string and some arrows. I’ll have to go into town for the string, but as for the arrows, I can work on those tomorrow.” Her mother had gone on a week-long trip to the capital and wouldn’t be back until the following Sunday.

Allie picked up the bow and hid it in the crevice of a dead tree and covered it with a bush. She then picked up Little Man and carried him across the lawn. “I’ll have to go to town tomorrow and pick up a string for the bow. I don’t have enough money for wax to finish it, though,” she mused. The only response to that was a small yip from Little Man. “That smug old shopkeeper.” She grunted. Going to other shops, asking her parents to go for her, that wouldn’t work this time. He was the only person in town who had bowstrings.

Reaching the home, Allie quickly went upstairs and found a small cushion. She went into her bedroom and put Little Man on it in the corner. Then she went downstairs and found a small plate. Grabbing a piece of bread, she went back upstairs. Allie put the bread on the plate in front of Little Man and he wolfed it down. “I suppose I’ll have to get you some food while we’re there, too.” She couldn’t leave him alone in fear that he’d wreck the house, so she was bringing him with to town.

Seeing that it had gotten dark out, Allie shed her clothing and slipped into her nightgown. “Goodnight, Little Man,” she said as she blew out the candle.

--

The next morning Allie got out of bed and got dressed, in normal clothes of course, and was careful not to wake Little Man. She went downstairs and fixed a breakfast for herself. Allie grabbed another piece of bread and a basket as she hurried upstairs. Early light streamed in through the window as she opened her door and went to the corner. Placing the bread on the plate, she gently woke Little Man. As he ate the bread, slow from sleep, Allie lined the inside of the basket with a blanket.

When the puppy was done eating, she carefully lifted him up and placed him in the basket. She walked downstairs again and locked the front door as she left. The walk to town was uneventful, besides the rustle of grass every so often, and Allie chatted with Little Man. She talked and talked, and as she was talking, she realized she was telling him things she had never told anyone. Oh well. It’s not like he can tell anyone, Allie thought to herself.

They arrived at the town and Allie slowly walked to the small shop she had been at over a month ago. The bell on the door rang as she walked in, and the clerk looked up as she came in and smile when he recognized her.

“If it isn’t Ms. Hemsworth,” Kent said, so loud that all the heads turned towards her. “Heard rumors that you had been purposefully staying away from my wonderful shop here. Now why would you do that?” His voice was too sappy. Kent was trying to get something from her. Allie just ignored him and headed towards the meat section. He walked towards her, stopping only a breath’s width away from her. Little Man yipped at him.

Allie didn’t look at him and continued shopping. She grabbed some meat for Little Man.

“Now, why would that be, Ms. Hemsworth?” he emphasized her name. Allie shrugged and moved on to the tool section. For a split second, Kent’s face looked disappointed, almost mad, but he quickly picked up his smile again. “What’re you doing in the tools section, ma’am?”

“I’m getting a gift for my father.” Kent smiled, clearly happy he had gotten a response. She looked through the bowstrings and grabbed a small, bare one. Kent looked confused.

“Why pick out the plainest one? We have plenty of fancier ones over here,” he motioned to another part of the aisle.

“My father likes to put together his own tools,” her reply was simple as she walked towards the checkout counter. Kent walked around the counter and checked out her items as she placed the basket on the counter and pulled out her pouch.

“Where has your father gone off to this time?”

“He has left to look for a job. He’s just going around nearby towns for a few days.”

The bell over the door rang and a clearly drunk man came stumbling in. The very muscular man looked at Allie. “Now, lid... liddle lady,” he slurred his words, then burped. There was beer dripping off of his beard. “Wouldn’t ya like ta have a-” burp, “strong, handsome man like... Uh,” he looked confused, then brightened, “me as a husband?”

Allie backed away, “I- I barely know you, and, you’re drunk. You, um, clearly don’t know what you’re saying..,” she stammered, clearly scared of him. He was built like someone who had worked a farm all day. Kent, however, did nothing to stop the intoxicated man from coming closer to the terrorized woman in his shop.

“Well, we don’t need’da be married. We can still be real good friends,” his words were even more slurred as he leaned against the counter. Allie was almost to the back wall. “Wadda ya say, huh?”

“I- I don’t know. Please, I m-must be getting h-home. If you would let me-” she tried to walk past him but he grabbed her and threw her against the wall.

“Now, liddle lady, what’d be yer name?” Allie didn’t respond. She looked up at him in fright as he brought his hand down and slapped her across the face. “I asked your name!” he screamed at her as she sat there crying, holding her swollen, stinging face. Suddenly, the door burst open and a savage came running in. He jumped onto the man and pulled him down on his back. The two men fell to the floor, the redskin’s arms still wrapped around the large man’s neck. The man tried to reach behind him and punch him, but he couldn’t land a hit. The men scrambled up and faced each other.

“Get out of here,” the savage said, his voice rich with an accent. The larger man rushed forwards and tried to ram him in the stomach but, due to all of his drinks, was easily sidestepped and fell to the ground. The man reached behind him into the tools aisle and grabbed an axe. That was when Kent got mad.

“Put that down! I will not have you use my tools to kill this savage!” he yelled and tried to grab the axe from him. “That could put my head on the chopping block!” While the drunk man was distracted by Kent, the savage went over to Allie. He helped her up in her terrorized state and walked her over to her things on the counter. He picked them up and grabbed her arm. The young man then helped her out of the shop. They had barely exited the building when they heard a scream. Allie looked in the window to see the axe embedded in Kent’s chest. She gasped and stumbled backwards, but the native caught her. The drunk man hurried towards the front of the shop, and Allie started running, picking up her dress as she went. The man stopped in the doorway and shook his fist at them as they ran off. A string of curses followed them onto the dirt road that lead back to Allie’s house.

“Who are you?” Allie asked as they slowed to walking.

“Wickaninnish. You may call me Wick,” the redskin, Wick, told her. The name prodded a memory, but Allie ignored it.

“Why did you do that?”

“You needed help,” he shrugged.

Allie looked down at the road, her brow furrowed. Wick had led her here when she was in shock. “How do you know where I live?” She asked him. He didn’t answer. “You led me to the road that leads to my house. How did you know where to take me?” Wick looked down. His head turned away from her. “You followed me to town, didn’t you?” There still wasn’t a response. Allie took a few steps away from him, but kept walking. She looked down and there were a few minutes of silence. “How long had you been following me?” Wick still didn’t reply, and Allie gave up questioning him.

They arrived at the small, two story home and Allie walked up to the front door. Turning around to thank Wick for helping her, she saw that he had disappeared. She sighed and turned to Little Man. “I guess some people are just like that. Here one minute, gone the next. Oh well. At least you’ll always be here for me.” Little Man yipped at her and wagged his tail.


Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.







Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
802 Reviews


Points: 18884
Reviews: 802

Donate
Fri Sep 08, 2017 2:46 am
View Likes
Dracula wrote a review...



Here I am. :D

She would surely fool anyone who saw her into thinking she was a man.
Yep, there's no need to tell me that this makes Allie very happy. It's loud and clear that she takes pride in her rebellious ways.

...cutting a small limb of the tree off. It took several minutes of labor before the stick came off the tree.
Watch out for that repetition again. You say 'off/of the tree' twice in close proximity.

By the sun, it looked about two o'clock.
It's cool that Allie knows this stuff, supporting the fact that she's not a typical female of the time. Yet she still has the feminine touch, especially when she cares for the puppy. I think Allie is like an equilibrium between both attributes.

As he ate the bread, slow from sleep, Allie lined the inside of the basket with a blanket.
Do dogs eat bread? It might be something to research, I can't really imagine a dog eating it. But I might be wrong.

She grabbed some meat for Little Man.
That's much more like it. :P

Suddenly, the door burst open and a savage came running in. He jumped onto the man and pulled him down on his back.
Don't forget to begin a new paragraph here! I liked the way you described the fight though, simple yet effective.

“Wickaninnish. You may call me Wick,” the redskin, Wick, told her. The name prodded a memory, but Allie ignored it.
So this is the older version of Wick! Excellent, now the prologue is starting to come into play. Wick seems like he's still got that adventurous spirit I got a hint of when he was a child, I'm interested to see how he and Allie connect.

That's all from me. It'd be great if you could let me know when part three is up.




Amabilia says...


Thanks for reviewing this, and I'm so glad you like the story! (I usually don't get this many compliments on my writing and it made me really happy) It will probably be a while before I post the third part because I don't have enough points/time to review but I'll tag you when I do.



Dracula says...


You're welcome and thank you!



User avatar
32 Reviews


Points: 2960
Reviews: 32

Donate
Tue Sep 05, 2017 11:18 pm
View Likes
SnowGhost says...



Awesome, I really enjoyed this




Amabilia says...


Thank you!



User avatar
561 Reviews


Points: 31500
Reviews: 561

Donate
Tue Sep 05, 2017 10:24 pm
View Likes
Atticus wrote a review...



Hey there! MJ back to review :)

She felt free after a whole month of having her hair down, it was finally up and covered with a school boy’s cap
A comma doesn't fit there; I think it should be a period. A semicolon could technically work, but those two sentences aren't closely related,

Slowly moving towards it, she was gentle.
This is a very sudden shift here, so I would add in something else here, like "Slowly moving towards it, she wrapped her hands around its abdomen, taking extra care to be gentle."

So as far as the plotline, I have two concerns. Firstly, it's lacking something that really pops out at me and sets it apart from another historical fiction novel. I'm still waiting for something that makes it, in a way, less cliche. Tomboy goes to the colonies, rescues a dog after she builds a bow, and is rescued by a Native American stalker from a drunk man. That doesn't stick out as original in my mind, frankly speaking. What makes her different from characters in the other books? And secondly, leading into the next point, I don't really 'know' the MC as much as I woudl like to. What's her motivation/her goal in life? How does she respond to different pressures? What makes her unique? Why should I be cheering for her? Basic things like that will help solidify your story as a unique and original plotline with original characters.

I would also be careful with info dumps and showing, instead of telling. This was very narrative in style, and you just told us a lot of information instead of using the more powerful alternative, showing. For example:
Allie had been avoiding him the entire month.
this was already pretty clear, so you don't even need to replace this sentence. If the reader gets the idea, there's no point stating the obvious.

Info dumps were pretty prevalent, although they were small. Even just saying "Her parents had gone to this place and her brother had gone this way" is technically an info dump. Try and find a way to relay that information in a more active way, like showing (yes, that was a deliberate nudge)

Overall, your writing style is improving and getting smoother, and I enjoyed the serenity of the picture you painted in the beginning and could feel a lot of the emotions that Allie felt as everything was playing out. There's some intrigue woven in here that I also enjoyed, so keep up the great work, and let me know if you have any questions!

Best wishes,
MJ




Amabilia says...


Thank you so much for your review, I will be sure to make the changes! :)




Man is by nature a political animal.
— Aristotle