Be Careful What You Wish For (1d/5?)
anonymous
September 20 2010, 18:46:04 UTC
+++++
Five Days Later
Failure. It was all America seemed to be met with. He’d done everything but tell England to his face and kiss him on the lips, and still…still…
America sat on the docks, hoping to lose himself in the bustle of the dockworkers and sailors, immigrants and merchants. England didn’t love him the way he did. He looked at him and saw a young boy to care for, to protect…his little brother. If only he were like those older teenager’s England brings home. Bigger and larger, not so small and scrawny… maybe England would return his true feelings?
“Something troubling you, boy?”
America looked up to the owner of the voice. A woman, all curves and darkened skin, midnight black hair reaching her waist, clothing far different from the other colonists.
“Ah-…yes.” America peered at her, taken aback by her forwardness. And by the amount of chest she revealed. “I…I love someone very much. But…they don’t love me back.”
The woman knelt beside him, setting her canvas pack on the docks beside her. “Because…they only see you as a young boy?”
America turned to her in alarmed surprise. The woman smiled reassuringly. “No-no…do not worry, little one. I understand.” Her accent came through then, sounding like the sailors from the Caribbean. “Perhaps I can help you?”
“You’ll help me?” America asked, growing surprised.
“I’ll help you, if you can help me in return.” The woman asked, her dark eyes rich with life and something else America couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I…know a bit of this and that…and can help you achieve the wish you want. But… I am an indentured servant to Lord Johnson, and my contract lasts a decade, if not more. Please, young master, if you can help get me cut the years on the contract in half or more, I will help you.”
America stared at her for a long moment, his thoughts racing.
I wonder… I bet she knows magic…like… that stuff I saw England doing in the cellar late one night… if she knows something that can help me than it’s worth a shot…I mean…nothing else has worked. And besides… that contract time is so long… getting it cut in short will help her. A rush of pride went through him at the thought of helping one of his citizens, and he smiled.
“I’ll do it.”
+++++
“America, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”
America stepped into England’s bedroom late one evening before retiring for the night. He had a white, long-sleeved shirt on, three buttons were undone and a slice of pale skin was revealed. America felt his chest grow tight and his head turn light with dizziness from the sight.
“I saw you speaking to that gypsy woman at the docks yesterday.”
Five Days Later
Failure. It was all America seemed to be met with. He’d done everything but tell England to his face and kiss him on the lips, and still…still…
America sat on the docks, hoping to lose himself in the bustle of the dockworkers and sailors, immigrants and merchants. England didn’t love him the way he did. He looked at him and saw a young boy to care for, to protect…his little brother. If only he were like those older teenager’s England brings home. Bigger and larger, not so small and scrawny… maybe England would return his true feelings?
“Something troubling you, boy?”
America looked up to the owner of the voice. A woman, all curves and darkened skin, midnight black hair reaching her waist, clothing far different from the other colonists.
“Ah-…yes.” America peered at her, taken aback by her forwardness. And by the amount of chest she revealed. “I…I love someone very much. But…they don’t love me back.”
The woman knelt beside him, setting her canvas pack on the docks beside her. “Because…they only see you as a young boy?”
America turned to her in alarmed surprise. The woman smiled reassuringly. “No-no…do not worry, little one. I understand.” Her accent came through then, sounding like the sailors from the Caribbean. “Perhaps I can help you?”
“You’ll help me?” America asked, growing surprised.
“I’ll help you, if you can help me in return.” The woman asked, her dark eyes rich with life and something else America couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I…know a bit of this and that…and can help you achieve the wish you want. But… I am an indentured servant to Lord Johnson, and my contract lasts a decade, if not more. Please, young master, if you can help get me cut the years on the contract in half or more, I will help you.”
America stared at her for a long moment, his thoughts racing.
I wonder… I bet she knows magic…like… that stuff I saw England doing in the cellar late one night… if she knows something that can help me than it’s worth a shot…I mean…nothing else has worked. And besides… that contract time is so long… getting it cut in short will help her. A rush of pride went through him at the thought of helping one of his citizens, and he smiled.
“I’ll do it.”
+++++
“America, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”
America stepped into England’s bedroom late one evening before retiring for the night. He had a white, long-sleeved shirt on, three buttons were undone and a slice of pale skin was revealed. America felt his chest grow tight and his head turn light with dizziness from the sight.
“I saw you speaking to that gypsy woman at the docks yesterday.”
America’s stomach bottomed out.
“You…you saw?”
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