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Young Writers Society



Fate --- Prologue

by Hopeless-Dreams


*Well this was my first story i put on here so i hope everyone likes this. I would like to say that this is the begging of a story like the Prologue or whatever. Enjoy.*

Prologue

Scotland, June 18 1564

Fate could be cruel. I thought I was fearless, now I was terrified, for me, my husband, and our son. Five years of marriage, five years of trying to have a child. Finally I get my wish, to have child, and now the good lord decides to take me. Never once have I held my own child, for I am too weak. I laid my eyes on him once; I heard his strong cry. It was the most amazing sound I have ever heard. My face was damp with tears. I thought about my son not growing up with a mother, about the pain and sadness that he would go through, the guilt he would feel. I could not let that happen, would never want my little baby to go through such heartbreak. The very same heartbreak I was feeling now. I couldn't’t let my son live without the warmth of a mothers love.

“Caitlin, please don’t do this.” I look over at my husband, who was standing near the bed gazing down at me. More tears fell from my eyes. Just looking at him, knowing that I would not be able to look upon his face, be able to see his smile, not be able to hear his voice, or be held in his gentle arms, was the worst possible pain I could have ever experienced.

“Kieran, I do not have much longer to be with you.” I gasp for some air “so I ask you to do something for me.” I had to get him to do this for me, and our son.

“Ye are not dying!” He looked like he was about to cry. To see him close to tears was a shock to me. Seeing the look of anguish, pain, despair and absolute sadness that I had put there was tearing me to pieces. “I will do anything ye tell me to do as long as ye live. Ye must live for little Duncan. He canna grow up without a mother.” He let his tears fall freely from his eyes, every tear tugged at my heart. “I canna live without,” his voice broke “my beloved.”

It felt like someone was stabbing my heart, to watch my beloved weep like this for me. I had to be strong, if not for him, then for our son.

“When I die you must remarry.” I tried to say those words with all the conviction I could muster, but it was no more than a small whisper. “Duncan needs a mother,” my breath came in short gasps now, “my son will not grow up without a mother, I can’t let that,” my voice faltered, “happen.” Those words were the hardest things I had ever said in my life. My one true love and my son, having another woman to make them happy. With me gone they would need another to take my place. My heart was now in pieces.

“I canna remarry!” He roared those words at me, I flinched. He fell to his knees by the bed and grabbed my hand, and looked right at me. Right into my very soul. “How can you think I could ever do that. To live my life without ye. I couldn’t bare it if ye left me. Ye will not die, as your lord husband I command ye not to die!” He laid his head down on my hand and started to weep.

“You and I both know I do not have much longer.” I took many laboured breaths. “I need you to promise me to find someone to take care of Duncan.” My eyes were burning, tears gliding down my neck to my chest. “I want you to find someone that you can love,” I gasped for air. “Forget me and find happiness” I put my other hand on the top of his head to try to comfort him. I took a minute to catch my breath. “I want my son to grow up in a happy home,” I coughed I covered my mouth, I looked at my hand to see blood “a mother, a father.” Those words came in short gasps. “I don’t want him to live with guilt.” I took my hand away from my mouth and placed it back on his head, I tried to get him to look at me, he wouldn’t “He must not know I’m his mother.”

He brought his head up off the bed, my hand fell away from his head, and looked at me, eyes that were filled with heartache and pain. Which I had put there. He was shaking his head. “I will do as ye lust.” Just the smallest whisper but I had heard it.

“On your honour?” I looked up at him eyes begging him. I knew if it was on his honour he would keep his promise.

“Aye, on me honour. I will fulfill your wishes, my love.” His face was grim. He was still crying, tears of pure despair. He kissed my forehead. His hair fell on my face, I breathed in the scent of heather. I felt his tears fall onto my face, and mix with my tears.

I smiled up at him and my tears stopped. My son and my husband would live happy lives. After Kieran got over my death he would be happy. They would forget me and live. “Would you get some writing tools?” Kieran just stared at me. “I would like to write a letter to my son.” I gasped and he garbed my hand “I want you to give him this letter on his eighteenth birthday.” Kieran just stared at me. “Please, I need to do this.” He let go of my hand and got up off his knees and went to the chest at the end of the bed and got the writing tools out and brought them to me. “Can you help me write it?”

“Aye” He sat on the bed beside me, he placed the quill in my hand, I tried to grip it, but it fell out of my hand.

“Will you write it for me?” His tears had stopped and his face was now grim.

“Tell me what ye would like me to write” he started to write:

To my dearest Duncan

If you are reading this you must be eighteen. Happy birthday my dearest son. Yes I am your mother, I died not long after giving birth to you. I hope you have lived a life full of happiness as I had wished for. Do not blame yourself for my death. You were he greatest joy of my life. I loved you and your father with all my heart. I made your father promise me that he would remarry to give you a mother. I made him promise that he would not speak of me until this day, so that you would not have to live with any sadness. My wish for you is that you live a life full of love and happiness. To have a mother, a father, and siblings, is all I ever want for you. I want you to grow up and get married and have children, so you know the joy of having a child. I want you to love someone as I loved your father. I want you to love your children as I loved you. I want you to be happy. Please thank your mother for taking such good care for you, and please be happy.

I love you with all my heart

Caitlin Anne MacDougall

I closed my eyes, gasping for air. The pain of just telling him to write this was unbearable. Not just the physical pain but the agony of telling your son in a letter that you are his mother. A mother who he has never even heard of until that day, trying to make him understand why you would not want him to know about you. The thought of no one talking about you from now on, for eighteen years. Knowing that another woman is going to raise your son you so desperately wanted. The sorrow of your husband that you love marring another woman. No one should know this pain. “Please give him the letter when he turns eighteen.” A new set of tears now poured down my face. “I want him to” my voice broke “know that I love him.” He got up and placed the supplies back in the chest.

“I will give him this, I will.” he came to his knees again by the bed and grabbed both of my hands and put them on his face. I could feel the dampness of his fresh tears running over my hands. He had started to cry again. I’m hurting him so much. “I love ye Caitlin MacDougall with all of my heart. I will remarry as soon as I find a proper lady to raise our son. I will not love her though. Ye own my heart Caitlin and when you are gone so will my heart.” He pulled me into his embrace. “I love ye as no man has ever loved a woman before. Our son will know this on his eighteenth birthday, I shall tell him about every minute I had with ye. He will know his mother.” He climbed up on the bed, he gently placed me on his lap, and his strong arms embraced me. “Please donna leave me. I canna live without ye. I love ye.” His voice sounded so small and helpless. “If ye die, I donna know what I will do. Please don’t go, don’t leave me to live without ye. Please.” With my last ounce strength I wrapped my arms around his back. I could feel the warmth of his body surround me, I was at peace in his arms.

“I love you.” As my arms fell from his sides, I let myself cry once more, just one single tear, for my husband and my son. I felt his sobs rumble from his chest, his tears glided down my neck. Goodbye my love, be happy. As he pulled me tighter into his embrace my world went black.


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Mon Dec 15, 2008 12:05 am
Hopeless-Dreams says...



thanks!
the next chapter wont be out for awhile though.
ill put it up as soon as I'm done it.




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 11:23 pm
SeleneForeverDream wrote a review...



Wow, I really like this. What caught my attention was that it takes place in Scotland. This is a very original piece in the Romantic section and the Prologue is definitely unusual, but in a good way. This prologue was exactly how I love prologues: long. Everyone writes just a few sentences, but this really catches the reader's attention. I really enjoyed your beginning and I'll be waiting for your next chapter. :D




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 10:42 pm
Hopeless-Dreams says...



thanks for the great responses.(Eraqio, and Vannah[Was All She Wrote])

And to Samuel Garrison...
i would attempt to write it in third person but...
I'm not that great at it.
i feel when i write that i can express more emotion through first person.
even though people will only know one person feeling it makes you more connected to the character.
I'm about half way through the next chapter so we will see what happens.
i put it up when I'm done.(it might take awhile.)

Thanks!




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 9:56 pm
Eraqio wrote a review...



Great use of language. I liked the use of some dialect in the character's speech as well as their thoughts. It was well written to say the least of it.

The characters all reacted realistically towards eachother instead of a basic 1+1= speech equation most people go with.

good job

Have a Nice Day, and dont forget to read.




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 9:51 pm
Fishr says...



also this is from Caitlin's point of view and if you were dying i don't think you would be looking around the room.
No, that is true and brings up a valid point in which I'd consider writing in the Third Person for your Prologue. Then you will have the freedom to add description. Also with Third Person, then you could add in any Gaelic or dialect. Plus, it would make the overall feeling; we are indeed in Scotland, besides the bedroom.

This is very well written.I wouldn't change a thing about it.Great job:]
Perhaps the author would appreciate a more detailed explination? In your opinion, maybe you could write at least five sentences of why the story was, "very well written," please? :)

Any yay! Another Scot!
I'm a mutt. Scottish, English, German, Irish, Swedish, Canadian.




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 9:26 pm



This is very well written.I wouldn't change a thing about it.Great job:]




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 8:33 pm
Hopeless-Dreams says...



Thanks for your your opinion. I'm Scottish as well, i don't have a Scottish last name though but my clan in the Mathison I'm about 3/4 Scottish and the rest is a mix of Irish and native. Yes i do know that i should throw in some of the Scottish things. Well the reason that he is not speak Gaelic is because Caitlin is actually English, she cant speak Gaelic. I'm taking a course at my school at the moment that teaches Gaelic so I'm thinking about through some Gaelic in. when i wrote this story i didn't know any. it never really came into my head. also this is from Caitlin's point of view and if you were dying i don't think you would be looking around the room. Well at least i wouldn't be. When i thought of her character i thought about it as the only thing in the world she think about was her husband and her son. it never came into mind to describe the close and stuff. Well this story is going to turn into somewhat of a time travel story (don't want to give anything away) ill go back and fix his speech as soon as i have time.

Tapadh Leat (thank you)




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Sun Dec 14, 2008 7:34 pm
Fishr wrote a review...



Hey there!

Admitedly, when I saw that glorious word, "Scotland," I was totally jazzed because I'm of Scottish decent. My surname, "Bruce," was once spelled, "Brus;" the same spelling of Robert I or better known today as Robert "The Bruce." Several variations of my name have developed: Brus, Bruise, Bruse, Bruce. When I saw the year of your story, I perked up, being that I'm a history buff, regardless your story is in - flinches - Romantic Fiction.

The first paragraph, in my opinion, snagged me. I read a little more, just to see where this prologue was leading. I knew she was dieing of childbirth; it was very common for the 16th Century but when the husband came into the picture, I wasn't too impressed with his speech. After all, he is Scottish and I would venture to guess Caitlen was too. I'm not sold one ounce that Mr. MacDougall is a Scot from the Highlands because his dialect is wishy-washy. And, Scots would have been speaking their native tongue, Gaelic. Having him speak a few Gaelic words would add emphasis to the background. Perhaps he had his two-hander, the claymore, beside him on the floor, leaning against the bed or his dirk belted or both, as he watches Caitlen slowly die.

Here's a link of Scottish dialect I found:
http://www.cs.stir.ac.uk/~kjt/general/scots.html

And, a Scottish Gaelic dictionary:
http://www.taic.btinternet.co.uk/faclair.htm

His speech really does need work.

Further, if you had negated that the setting was Scotland, I would never have known. Why? You focused too much on the kissing, crying and emotion, that you've forgot to describe the room the couple are in, clothing, etc. Is the room in disarray? Where is her husband's bonnet? Was he ever wearing one? Is he in the tradional kilt or perhaps it is nippy outdoors and instead he's wearing trousers? This is the perfect oppertunity to slip in subtle details about the atmosphere, show us the current setting: the bedroom, and how the two characters are dressed. For all I know, she might be nude under the covers and he's the only one clothed. ;)

This story has a lot of potencial too in combining the genres of Historical and Romantic fiction. In fact, it'll most likely end up that way. Yay!

The other piece of advice is, I'm sorry, but you will have to study Scotland's history and civilian life if you want this story to be able to stand on its own two feet. You've put yourself in that position of researching decidingly so by selecting the era. Fortunately, the country is extreamly popular so the research should be fairly simple. If I were you, I'd hone in on the names of the castles, civilan life, weapons, armor and landscape for the mid 1500s. I promise that if you should choose to follow my advise, by knowing your world, at least being familiar with it, your story will be brilliant. Not to say, it's not intriguing already but as I mentioned earlier, it's lacking in details. Kissing and all that cuddly stuff is great but you haven't succeeded in dropping into your world just yet.

Moreover, I thought the last paragrpah was touching. I enjoyed reading it quite a bit. Keep it up!


We Have Been
My Clan's motto
Image
Clan Bruce's Badge and my Tartan behind it
Jess





Cheat your landlord if you can and must, but do not try to shortchange the Muse. It cannot be done. You can’t fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal.
— William S. Burroughs