CHAPTER ONE, PART I
I
His first sentence was a question. A sharp shrill cry that pierced the air, sending his mother down the long hallway, her long red hair flowing out behind her in a wave of glossy curls. She lifted him up in his arms, and hugged him tightly, tightly, reassuring him. He titled his head back to look up at her, and repeated the question, now in a whisper, voice so low it could hardly be held.
“Where is Papa?” he asked, eyes wide and ready to leak a never-ending stream of tears. Seeing her little son staring up at her like that nearly broke her heart. She wanted, more than anything, to lie, and tell him Papa was going away for a little while, and would be back soon. But somehow, she couldn’t lie. She knew it would hurt him either way, but somehow she couldn’t lie. So she told the truth, the cruel, harsh truth.
Stroking his soft wispy baby’s locks, as if to ease all the suffering and pain from her words, she told him. “Marky, my love, Papa’s gone.”
Not surprisingly, Mark didn’t understand. He just stared at her, questioning her words. He believed her, oh, he believed her. But he simply did not know what she was talking about. The question again, more demanding. He was getting exasperated now. “Where’s Papa?”
Now it registered with his mother that he had finally strung together a few words, even two or three, to form his first sentence. She beamed, and kissed his cheek. His frown changed to a joyful smile. He loved his Mama. Mark buried his face in her shoulder, and gurgled happily.
His question was forgotten, but she knew she would have to come up with an explanation sooner, rather than latter. She tried not to cry herself, as she carried him back into his cozy little wooden bed, painted with scenes from Greek myths.
Author's Note: So, what do you all think? This isn't all I've written so far, more will be coming soon! I hope to finish Chapter One tonight or early tomorrow. Please feel free to critique! =]
His first sentence was a question. A sharp shrill cry that pierced the air, sending his mother down the long hallway, her long red hair flowing out behind her in a wave of glossy curls. She lifted him up in his arms, and hugged him tightly, tightly, reassuring him. He titled his head back to look up at her, and repeated the question, now in a whisper, voice so low it could hardly be held.
“Where is Papa?” he asked, eyes wide and ready to leak a never-ending stream of tears. Seeing her little son staring up at her like that nearly broke her heart. She wanted, more than anything, to lie, and tell him Papa was going away for a little while, and would be back soon. But somehow, she couldn’t lie. She knew it would hurt him either way, but somehow she couldn’t lie. So she told the truth, the cruel, harsh truth.
Stroking his soft wispy baby’s locks, as if to ease all the suffering and pain from her words, she told him. “Marky, my love, Papa’s gone.”
Not surprisingly, Mark didn’t understand. He just stared at her, questioning her words. He believed her, oh, he believed her. But he simply did not know what she was talking about. The question again, more demanding. He was getting exasperated now. “Where’s Papa?”
Now it registered with his mother that he had finally strung together a few words, even two or three, to form his first sentence. She beamed, and kissed his cheek. His frown changed to a joyful smile. He loved his Mama. Mark buried his face in her shoulder, and gurgled happily.
His question was forgotten, but she knew she would have to come up with an explanation sooner, rather than latter. She tried not to cry herself, as she carried him back into his cozy little wooden bed, painted with scenes from Greek myths.
Author's Note: So, what do you all think? This isn't all I've written so far, more will be coming soon! I hope to finish Chapter One tonight or early tomorrow. Please feel free to critique! =]