Just wanted to take a minute and say....

Thank you. Seriously, to those of you who are taking the time to read and comment on my story I really really really REALLY appreciate it.

So far this has been a very rewarding journey, I am discovering things about myself that I never thought existed. Allow me to explain:
-I never thought I could be so dark and ominous.
-I had no idea that I could write suspense, those of you who know me are aware that subtly is not an adjective that is used to describe me.
-Rachel Winter is the first character that I haven't imprinted my own personal experience in her journey.
-I hate to say it, but I'm beginning to like Celia more than Rachel. She's more like me ;]
-I had no idea that Basildon was a real town. Seriously, google it. I was blown away. I just needed a random town that was relatively close to London
-In telling this story, I am in turn working through a lot of things in my past. For example: Getting taken advantage of by a BIBLE TEACHER.
-I have a greater respect for Daphne Du Maurier. I thought writing in first person would be easy. I'm finding that I was very naive to think that.
-I scare myself with how dark and evil I've made this villain. I hope that's a good thing. He's really a sick and demented son of a bitch.

I explained earlier this month where my inspiration came from, I didn't express the gratitude and respect that I have for Dame Daphne du Maurier. She really has changed me as a writer, and I seriously have almost every novel she has ever written, she has sixteen; I own eight. Almost there! This story is an attempt to pay homage to what she's done.

So I really do appreciate (and encourage) the comments and constructive criticism. A writer is nothing without a reader, and I am always looking to expand my audience. I'm beginning to work into the climatic peak of the story, and I have a pretty clear idea of where I'm going.

Stay Tuned ;]

St. Columb - Chapter Four

IV

For a moment, I seemed frozen as did she. She was beautiful, blossomed into a young woman she had. I some how managed to speak, though my throat was dry and my voice trembling.
“L—Lynsay?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper. “Oh God, is it you?” I reached out and touched her cheek; her eyes were wide as she took my hand.
“Rachel?” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I remember not saying anything else, but taking her in my arms and holding her tight. I could feel her tears on my neck, soaking my collar; we said nothing, our sobs were all the words we needed. It must have been several minutes before we pulled apart, I remember even after we did we said nothing for another several minutes. I looked at her, she was a vision; I thought she favored mother. She was a hair shorter than I; with long honey-colored hair, a fair complexion, and, of course, those beautiful jade eyes that I had searched for in the faces of thousands of children. She had transformed from a tiny little sprout of a child, to a beautiful, shapely young woman. She told me later that my hair wasn't the light brown she remembered, but had changed to an auburn color or else she would have recognized me right away.
“Well, it seems as though you two know each other. So I'll take my leave, Rachel you can find me in the mess hall's kitchen when you're ready.” Emma replied, she was smiling at us both; she then turned and made her way to the mess hall.
We made our way back to the tree that Lynsay was originally sitting under.
“Rachel I always knew you would find me! Even when I was brought here, I knew that somehow you would find your way to me.”
“Oh Lynsay I can't comprehend to you how happy I am right now. How did you wind up so far outside of London? Be honest with me, I won't get upset I promise. I'm just so happy you're beside me again.” I embraced her again. She pulled away and looked down, she hesitated a minute and began to tell me of her journey to St. Columb:
“Well...after the bombing that night, I awoke in a hospital. Apparently I had a nasty gash between my shoulder blades, and had taken a sharp hit to the head.” She pulled her hair back to show me the scar from the laceration, it stretched horizontally from the top of one shoulder blade, to the bottom of another. I remember feeling ill and cursing myself for not making more of an effort to stay close to her.
“After I had healed up, they inquired about my family. I lied and said that I had been separated from them during the air-raid, that they were sure to be looking for me. I feared that if I had told them that it was just you and I, they wouldn't have let it slide as much. I awoke one night to overhear the nurse and doctor saying that they had someone coming from the city orphanage tomorrow to take me away. I got scared, I thought that if I went I would never see you again...maybe if I had gone with them...” she trailed off, turning her gaze to the creek.
“Lynsay darling you couldn't have known that I would have chosen the occupation that I did.” I said, taking her hand. “Don't feel responsible for anything...these were events that neither of us could have controlled...”
“I suppose you're right....anyway I ran away that night. I went back to the last place I saw you and backtracked. I thought that if I did that maybe someone could lead me to you. I gallivanted around, looking for you, and slept where I could. It wasn't until the bombings started to get terrible that I left the city, a group of other people my age were fleeing to the country. Most of them vowed to come back once the Germans left, I being one of them. We separated afterwords, I managed to find an abandoned shed a few miles away from here. I—I did have to steal Rachel....I had no money and I was awfully hungry...” she started to cry. “I know it was bad, but I promised that I would try to make up for it somehow...oh you must be so disgusted with me....”
“Oh my dear sister, I could never be disgusted with you....” I embraced her, stroking her hair. “You were doing what you had to in order to survive, I would've been so scared that I would've gotten caught.”
“Well...I did. That's how I wound up here. See, Dougan goes into town every day with things to sell from the garden if there's any to spare; which usually there isn't but it happened to be my saving grace that this one day there was.” she said plucking at the grass. “I hadn't eaten in quite some time and I was famished. My hunger clouded my judgment and I tried to steal a loaf of bread when I thought no one was looking. Well Dougan saw me, and tried as I did to escape, that man can bloody run.” she said, laughing a bit. I smiled, so Dougan was my sister's saving grace; I would have to be sure to talk to him about this next time I saw him.
“He caught me by the arm, I tried to fight back. I must have looked a fool, clawing and scratching at him as if it would do any good. He bound my hands, he told me it was for the safety of his eyes. He explained to me that if had only asked, he would have gladly given me the bread; now he had no other choice but to take me to the police. I begged him not to, I knew that I would never escape the police; I know now that he was only saying that for bargaining power, the sneaky Irishman.”
“Oh no dear, he's only half-Irish.” I smiled, earning me a laugh from Lynsay.
“Yes I know. As it turns out he told me that I had to come here and stay for three years in order to 'pay my dues' for stealing. I asked him how he knew I was going to stay, that I wasn't going to just run away in the cloak of night. He simply said that I had honest eyes and that if I had a lick of conscience or heart I wouldn't run. I know now that he saw how emaciated and sick I was, and he knew that I wouldn't have survived much longer in that pitiful little shack. I owe him my life...” she said, smiling at me.
“Well, I'll have to properly thank Dougan when I next see him. Tell me Lynsay, why did you tell them your name was Lyn?”
“I was scared that people were still looking for me so I shortened my name and didn't tell them my last name....at first I was scared that you wouldn't be able to find me, but something told me that you would so I didn't worry about it anymore.”
Before I could respond, the bell rang for supper; all of the children ran toward the mess hall, laughing and calling out to one another. Lynsay and I stood, linked arms and followed them; I stopped a few feet from the door, noticing a figure sulking beneath the willow on the far corner of the building.
“Is that Robby?” I asked Lynsay
“Yes, he always waits until everyone else is inside before he goes in. That way he can go in unnoticed, he's a bit of an odd duck. I know that he's been through something terrible but there's just something not quite right about him, like he's hiding something. I usually steer clear of him.”
“Why's that dear?”
“Because he tried to kiss me once, then when I said no he became...different. I can't describe it but it gave me the willies. Now I only associate with him when there's a lot of people around. Come on Rachel, I'm hungry and Mrs. Noll's making her roast beef tonight.” Lynsay tugged at my arm, I followed.

I still, even to this day, can see Robby sitting underneath that tree; though he was some distance away from us, I could still feel his eyes on us as we walked into the mess hall. Even now, I still wonder if I had followed my instinct then, if things would be different. Maybe the tragedies wouldn't have happened, maybe I could have done something for him. We mustn't dwell on the past, that's what they say, we must learn from our mistakes and move on. That's what the sycophants say when they don't know what else to say; they give empty advice in order to say that they did their best for you

I wonder what they would say if they knew what I know now or had seen what I had.

St. Columb - Chapter Three

III

Mrs. Noll and her daughter Grace were there to meet me at the door; Dougan dutifully took my bags up to the room I would be staying in. I remember immediately liking Mrs. Noll, she was younger than I expected; she was most likely in her late thirties. Her face still maintained a youthful glow that was framed by dark red hair; she had fine features and pale, pink lips that a brilliant white smile hid behind. Her bright blue eyes were full of patience and kindness. Grace was a carbon copy of her mother, I dare say she was a mirror image of what Emma Noll might have looked when she was younger.
“Rachel Winter, I am Emma Noll.” she said, embracing me and kissing my cheek.
“Mrs. Noll it is so good to finally meet you in person. You have no idea what an honor this is.”
“Call me Emma. Oh please, you're doing us an honor by coming here to our little orphanage. This is my daughter Grace, I wouldn't be able to do much without her.” she said putting her arm around her daughter. Grace stepped forward and shook my hand.
“Hello Miss. Winter, it's such a pleasure to meet you.” she said, smiling shyly.
“You may call me Rachel. Miss Winter is far too formal, besides I have a feeling we'll all be friends before long.”
“Alright Miss—I mean Rachel.” She replied, her smile getting wider.
“Come inside, I've prepared a small meal for you. I knew you would be hungry after that long train ride.” Emma said, putting her arm around me.
“Oh thank you so much, I am rather hungry.”
“Afterward we can show you around, but not before you eat.”
“Its like you read my thoughts.” I smiled
The main house, where I would be staying, was a large, three story farm house. It had a spacious den with a large fireplace and rather impressive library; the den led into the kitchen which wasn't as big as one would think after seeing the den, but it was cozy. I was seated at the table and was educated on what Emma's interpretation of a 'small' meal was. I was served a glorious helping of homemade beef stew, accompanied by generous slices of fresh-baked bread, a fresh salad and warm apple cider.
“This is wonderful Emma, really how do you manage to feed all of these children, and now me?”
“Well as you know I can't turn a child away, I would never be able to live with myself. When food started to become an issue I began to grow my own. All of our vegetables and dairy are farm fresh, I had Dougan build a small greenhouse to keep the garden in a growing season a bit longer than normal and we have three dairy cows and about fifteen chickens. We still have to rely on the market for food, especially during the colder months when the garden isn't prospering as much, but growing our own food alone saved a bundle. It also allowed me to store some money away in case of an emergency. That's something that the children don't know.”
“Astonishing, absolutely astonishing Emma! Your resourcefulness is something to be admired.”
“Oh please dearie you're giving me too much credit, when one has eighty children in addition to her own to look after one has no choice but to be resourceful.” she laughed. “Well I see that you've eaten everything, it's good to see a young woman with a healthy appetite. Shall I show you to your room then around the orphanage?”
“Yes, I would quite enjoy that.”
My room was small, but very comfortable; the bed was in the far corner next to the window, one could sit there and look out over the creek that flowed into the forest. I had my own bathroom and a rather spacious closet and dressing table.
“I hope this is suitable for you.”
“Oh yes very much, its much better than some of the previous lodging's I've had on assignments.”
“I thought you would prefer a room away from the children. While I do adore them, I am so grateful to be able to come up to the house and relish in the peace and quiet.” Emma laughed “My room is just down the hall, and Grace's is right next door. Dougan sleeps in the attic, the stairs are located at the end of the hall here. If you ever need anything, just knock on one of our doors and don't hesitate! We don't expect you to know everything my dear.”
“That's good to know. Now, if you don't mind, could we go and see the children?”
“Of course my dear. Come on then.”

I can't describe what an excitement I felt in that moment, it was quite childish really knowing what I know now. However I tried to maintain my professional demeanor, I was after all here on a rather difficult assignment. Doctor Yellan informed me that in order to consider this trip worthwhile, I would have to make sure that at least twenty or thirty children would go to good homes. It doesn't sound like much but when you consider the location being miles from any sort of city, well it adds a rather beastly challenge.
The orphanage was built on a large area of land behind Emma's house, standing four stories; it was a humble looking building of a rectangular architecture and had a tin roof. Though the building from the outside looked rather gloomy, once you entered the doors it was like a whole new world. The downstairs area was sectioned off into four parts; the first part was somewhat of a makeshift school, complete with desks and chairs, along with a chalkboard and a few books. The second part was the mess hall, which had several long tables accompanied by chairs, and a large open kitchen in the back. The third part a reading and indoor play area, reserved for the older or quieter children; it boasted several books, games and a humble fireplace. The fourth part was housing for the staff, which was about twenty-five or so; there were two cooks, a nurse, a schoolmaster, and a head governess along with several others who simply provided companionship for the children. The next three floors were reserved for housing for the children; their ages ranged from two to seventeen, once they turned eighteen they had to be sent into the city to learn how to work and earn a living. I was amazed at how such a tiny orphanage could be so resourceful; I found later that Emma Noll was no mouse. If something was needed for those children, she would fight tooth and nail until she got it.
Emma showed me the layout of each room before taking me upstairs to show me the childrens' living quarters, which were very acceptable despite the influx of children. As we reached the top floor, I noticed a boy sitting in the window at the end of the hallway.
“Who is that? Is he one of the older ones?” I asked her quietly
“Oh yes, that's little Robby Spaniel. Though he's not quite little anymore, he used to be a gangly thing I would imagine he's about seventeen now. He was brought here when he was quite young and was nothing but skin and bones. His parents were murdered by Nazi's when they invaded his home, the poor dear saw it all so he doesn't say much; he's a bit of a worry to me because he always seems to be brooding on something.”
“Would it be alright if I were to go and have a word with him?”
“Oh no, not at all. He is very shy though, just to be warned.”
I made my way toward the end of the hallway, upon hearing my footsteps he looked my way. He seemed to quiver a bit so I made sure that my movements were slow and calm.
“Hello, is it alright if I sit here?” I asked quietly, smiling at him. He shook his head and pulled his feet into his chest to make room for me. I'll never forget his face, it will be etched in my mind until the day I die. My first impression was a boy who hadn't quite reached the end of puberty. He was a little homely with brown eyes, one of them lazy and he had greasy brown hair that was kept short. His complexion was pale, with thin lips that hid his crooked teeth; his ears added a comical aspect to his body as they stuck out away from his head. His body was still gangly, but his arms indicated that he did do some sort of lifting.
“My name is Rachel, might I inquire yours?” I asked him as I sat down. He glanced at me sideways, unsure of what to make of me.
“Robby.” he said quietly.
“Well Robby it's awfully nice to meet you. I'm not bothering you am I?”
“N—no...I was just...thinking. I sit here everyday in the afternoon.”
“It is a pleasant place, it seems very peaceful.”
“I—it is....I like it. If you don't m—mind my asking Miss, where did you come from?”
“I don't mind at all. I came from London, I'm a social worker.”
“A—are you the one t—that's going to help Mrs. Emma for a while?”
“Yes I am. I'm going to make sure that you all go to loving homes and are comfortable here.”
“Y—You're not going to send me away are you?”
“Send you away?”
“Y—yes....send me away from here....”
“I'm not sure I understand Robby....”
“This is my home. I don't want any other.” and with that he quietly got up and walked down the hallway, acknowledging Emma as he went down the stairs. Emma sighed and sat down next to me.
“He's been our biggest challenge, he arrived here four years ago and for the first few months we couldn't get him to say two words or play with the other children. He soon came into his own in time but he's been adamant about not leaving. I think he's afraid to, this has been the only solid home he's known, and with him witnessing such an event as he has...well part of me feels for the boy. However I can't keep him here for much longer, he's going to turn eighteen in the summer.”
“Well perhaps I can help with him. I've had experiences with children like him in the past, maybe I can get him to see reason.”
“Oh that would be a miracle.” Emma laughed and stood. “Well come on then, let me show you out back. That's where most of the children are right now.”

I was shown out back, which boasted an impressive playground and an open field. Most of the children were either on the equipment or playing a game of cricket out in the field; however some of them were reading underneath the shade of the trees that ran along the creek. I felt such a feeling of joy then, seeing the children playing gave me a sense of utter delight and reminded me how innocent life can be. As I was surveying the landscape, a particular girl sitting close-by caught my eye; she was reading at the foot of a mighty spruce that sat close to the riverbank. Emma caught my glance and smiled,
“That's Lyn. She's been here for about three years, she's also about seventeen.”
My heart stopped, I must have looked pale because I felt Emma's hand gently grasp my arm.
“Rachel darling are you alright? You look ill all of a sudden.”
“W—what did you say her name was? And her age?”
“She calls herself Lyn, she's seventeen. Why do you ask?”
Before I could answer I saw her stand, she turned to face us. She was slightly shorter than I, with honey colored hair; I wanted to signal her to come this way, but she was already walking toward us her attention still to her book.
“Lyn darling, come here there's someone I want you to meet.”

My heart began to race as she made her way toward us; it couldn't be, it just couldn't. She stopped to give Emma a hug, when she turned her attention to me I noticed the color of her eyes. They were a unique shade, much like mine.

Veering off a bit

So yesterday's post was a bit rushed. I was intent on getting all of my posts that weren't linked to this blog deleted from my facebook account. Apparently the company reserve the right to retain everything you post on your profile even if you delete your profile. I was deleting all of my poems, short stories, etc. from there and I was so intent on posting the story I posted yesterday that I forgot to explain the concept of it.

The story itself is a product of an incredibly delightfully dark and twisted idea that my father gave me. I'm not going to go into detail because I figure everyone is like me and can figure out the plot with only a few hints.

I plan on posting a few of my other stories and poetry on here as soon as this story is finished.

Stay tuned for Chapter 3, I plan to have it posted sometime tonight, possibly later tomorrow.