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Polished Pebbles
Prologue
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When I was little, I took a trip to Nelson, British Columbia to visit my aunt and uncle. My sister, Christine, accompanied me. Although she sulked for the entire trip – from the time our airplane boarded to the very millisecond we were jetting off for home – I enjoyed being there. The lakes were a breathtaking sight, and the woodland, which stretched as far as the eye could see, could dazzle you, thrill you. I never wanted to leave, even if the roar of the tides and the ocean-lined horizon were waiting for me back home. I loved the essence of nature, and the freedom I felt whenever I drew in the cold, refreshing mountain air.
One day, I went with my aunt to the local grocery store. While she roamed the aisles, picking out foods for the night’s dinner, I remember wandering around. I gazed at everything, from the people walking past to the frozen lobsters encased in the fresh fish section. My primary goal was to find and locate the cereal aisle, since I had been obsessed with Fruit Loops at the time. After all, Toucan Sam was one of the coolest cartoon characters of the age. So I searched and searched, just waiting to catch a glimpse of that colorful box.
Instead of finding cereal, however, I discovered something far more intruiging. There was a family of six standing near the produce section. I remember them because they were all somewhat creepy, like walking skeletons with identical dark hair and light eyes. There was a younger boy, who looked about my age, and there were also three teenagers – two boys, one girl. The girl had a fountain of jet-black hair, while the boys kept their own locks ear-length and shaggy. They were all big, you know, and intimidating. I wanted to shrink away and melt into the floor just by looking at them.
I assumed the two older people were their parents. They were grim and somber-faced as they pawed through the cucumbers, searching for the best, shiniest ones.
Curious, I hid behind the nearest fruit stand and peered out at the family, watching their movements and wondering why passerby continued glared at them.
Then I realized that the family had become five, instead of six. One of the tall teenagers had vanished.
I frowned for a moment, wondering where he might be. However, I needn't have given his wherabouts any particular thought, for when I whirled around, I came face to face with him. He was kneeling down to meet my height. He had a long nose and an ugly scar scored across his cheek. His eyes were so gray, and his face was so pale.
“What are you doing, young one?” he questioned quietly. His voice was deep and raspy, like the glide of water sifting across pebbles. “We should find your parents.”
I remember being very frightened. After all, I was ten, and this tall, mature teenager was talking to me. I shook my head wordlessly.
“What is your name?” he asked me.
I didn’t say anything. My parents always told me never to talk to strangers, and I wasn’t about to break their orders.
Then I heard my aunt shriek from behind me. She walked forward, grabbed my hand, and began shouting at the teenager. But instead of shouting back, he merely stood and stared at her with his ice-gray eyes. His parents, however, swept to his side, as though guarding him from my aunt’s vicious excoriation.
It was all very strange after that. I remember my aunt bringing me home and ordering me to go to my room. I thought I was in trouble. My sister thought I was in trouble, too, and she reckoned that she heard my aunt sobbing to Uncle Jeff late in the night.
I couldn’t explain what had happened that day.
All I knew was that my aunt was very upset after I had talked to that dark-haired stranger, and that I’d never forget his piercing gray eyes.
Author's Note:
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Story Published: 11-25-08
Story Completed: 1-03-09
Story Rewritten: 1-18-09
Hi there! I added a prologue, and I'm splitting chapters up, I think, because 5,000+ word chapters seem kind of overlarge. Hmm...
Critique is definately welcome, along with any suggestions. And I'd like I to thank all my readers, I truly do. You keep me writing. :)