Young Writers Society

*This story is underneath my folder titled “Adventures of Poppy and others”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33”. Enjoy!*

She had to get away from there. She just had to. She couldn’t stay in that house for one more second.

Four year old Bronte Alicesin couldn't be around her family anymore. They didn't understand her.

They didn't love her. They didn’t even try to mask it, their hatred was obvious. Mother called her “The devil”, father would press a burning poker to her hands, and her older sister, Ciara, laughed at her pain.

It was all because Bronte could summon a storm with her hands.

Apparently, her ancestors were burned to the stake for the same reason. It was believed that the Alicesins were cursed with storm powers, so each and every one of them with the powers were promptly killed.

No one in the Alicesin family with storm powers had ever lived to tell the tale.

That was, until Bronte came along.

Bronte didn’t want to spend her life with a family who wanted her dead, so she made her escape at night, through her open window. She didn’t have anything of value to pack with her, her family never gave her any toys. Only shreds of paper she was supposed to “play with”.

Well, at least she found an old blue cloak in the attic. The cloak was wrapped around her, and it kept her warm in the moonlight night. It used to belong to Ciara when she was Bronte’s age, but then it was locked in the attic after she got older.

Like Bronte, the cloak would hide in dust no longer.

.......................................................................

She was still in the forest, but she was getting further. At least, she thought that she was. Bronte wasn’t entirely sure.

In the distance, she heard faint crying. It sounded like somebody was lost, like somebody needed help.

She ran towards the noise, her brown boots kicking up dirt as she ran. Bronte cared not that her face would get dirty, she had to help whoever was crying.

After much running, she finally made it to a boy around her age wearing a suit, curling himself into a ball, sobbing profoundly.

"Why are you crying?" Bronte asked, sitting down next to him on the grass.

Her family never cared to ask why she was crying, which was why she thought that maybe he’d want someone to talk to.

The boy lifted up his teary-eyed face and Bronte held back a gasp.

He appeared to be made out of porcelain, like a doll. It shocked her a little bit, yes, but she didn’t run. After all, she didn’t want to be like her family, for they were all ruled by fear.

The boy told her that his Dad was hurt and that his mean Aunt Janet was the one who was hurting him. He said that Aunt Janet was trying to hurt him and his sister, but he ended up running outside with Aunt Janet, who turned him into a doll.

He hoped that his family would be okay. That his sister was able to escape. That Dad could still be saved somehow. That Mom would fix everything.

He hoped, but he wasn’t sure.

"Don't worry. I'll help you find your family." Bronte smiled.

He had a family who wanted him, he deserved to go back home.

"You will?" He asked, a hint of joy in his otherwise sad, wispy doll-voice.

The light of her storm would take Bronte to where his family lived, and then, he would be happy again!

"Of course I will! My name is Bronte, what's yours?" She asked, feeling for the first time that she was going to make a real friend.

"Damien...Bronte, what are you doing out here?" He asked.

Bronte blinked a bit in shock, for she didn’t expect him to ask about her. Usually, she was cast out in the shadows unless her family wanted to hurt her.

But Damien wasn’t like her family.

"Oh, me? I ran away from my family." Bronte said, a smile forming on her face.

They said that she would never leave the house alive, that one day, she would die. But she didn’t! She was alive! She ran away before they could catch her!

She was better than them!

"Why would you do that? Aren't they worried about you?" Damien asked, concerned laced in her voice.

"No, they aren't. My family isn't like your family. They don’t like me." Bronte said.

It’d be nice to have a family that liked her, but Bronte was fine on her own. After she helped Damien, she would be on her way. She would try to help herself.

"Why? You're really nice. Why don’t they like you?” Damien asked.

Nice. Nice. He thought that she was nice! He liked her!

"Because I can do this." Bronte said, for the first time, unafraid to use her powers.

She clapped her hands together. It was a small, sweet sound. But then, in the blink of an eye, manifesting from magic, the thunderous clapping of a line of lightning struck, and right where it touched, there was a circle of brown grass.

Damien gazed at her in awe. Bronte appreciated that. It was better than her family scolding her to hide herself.

"Did you cause that thunderstorm to happen?" Damien asked, wide-eyed, full of surprise.

"I sure did!" Bronte beamed proudly. She was feeling the joy seep through her veins, the impact of her magic settling inside her in a positive way.

"But that's so cool! Why would your family not like you?" Damien asked.

Her family never saw Bronte’s magic the way Damien did. It was a sad truth, but at least she was away from that.

"I don't know why. Maybe because I'm different." Bronte said with a shrug.

She actually did know why, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to be reminded of that life any longer. That life was done. Over with.

Damien crawled over to her and gave her something that no one in her family ever gave her.

He gave her a hug.

........................................................................

“Hey! Kids! Wake up!” An enthusiastic voice cried out.

Bronte and Damien opened their eyes to the dim, early morning sun, and an old man dressed as a ringmaster with coffee brown eyes grinning at them.

“Do you kiddos have anyone home to go to?” The man asked, his voice having a friendly cadence to it.

No, she didn’t. But she didn’t expect an adult out of all people to want to help.

“My friend Bronte doesn’t. But I do. I have family, I just don’t know where they are. My name is Damien, by the way.” Damien said.

Bronte smiled at him, grateful that he was the one doing the talking in that moment. He smiled back and again, she was reminded that she made a new friend.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two! My name is Hunter!” The man said, sticking out a gloved hand.

Damien was the one who shook it. Bronte could only stare at Hunter in amazement, for she couldn’t believe that she was in the presence of a real life ringmaster!

“How would you like it if you kids lived in my circus?” Hunter asked with a grin.

Bronte heard about circuses before. They were places where “devil people” lived, as what mother always said. By the things mother said, it sounded like the perfect place for Bronte to live in!

“We’d love it!” Bronte and Damien said in unison.

“Great! If your family comes looking for you, Damien, I’ll give you to them. Bronte, you can go with Damien when he gets out. For now, you’ll both have to stay with me…” Hunter trailed off.

But neither child wasted any second. They each took hold of a gloved hand of Hunter’s and let him lead them both to his circus.

Bronte couldn’t be happier. She not only gained a friend, but a home.

She finally got what she always wanted.