The Stranger- Chapter 1

"Oh, Annabelle!"

I swirled around, my white dress belling out around me and falling back into place. My white hair, flowing down in soft waves, quickly mimicked my dress. I clutched my sketchbook to my chest and tried to keep from wrinkling my nose as Lord Huntington's daughter, Larissa, daintily made her way over to me. Her brown dress swished as she walked, her breathing somewhat labored from her corset. Girls in the Victorian Era, I swear, they just can't get those things tight enough.

"Yes, Larissa?"

"It's time for Sunday Mass, what are you doing standing around the iron shop? Young ladies shouldn't be here!"

I must mention, Larissa is part of a group of the most uptight, etiquette obsessing rich girls in this town. The daughters of the lords came together and hounded anyone who didn't meet their standards. They always tried to get me to be in their group, seeing as my father was a powerful lord. Lord Drevensek, the tender, caring man that you would never expect to be a lord. Lords are usually so greedy and conceited. Thank the good Lord my father isn't like that.

"Oh, thank you for coming to get me." I disregarded her comment about the iron shop. It was a safe place for me. I brushed past her, walking the dirt roads of Middleville, Michigan. The simplicity of the Victorian Era was a beautiful thing. I smirked as I heard her huff and continue to find someone else to badger. Old Man McGrough was riding his horse and buggy down the dirt roads as usual, his shoulder length white hair spilling out from his top hat. He saw me and adjusted his monocle, his mustache following the curve of his lips as he smiled at me,

"Annabelle! Off to church, lass?"

"Yes, sir, can't be late!" My chipper attitude returned around him. Old Man McGrough was a favorite of everyone, so sweet and adventurous even as an old man. His job was giving others rides around town.

"Would you like a ride, lass? It's on the house for ya."

"Oh, no thank you. I do enjoy my walks through town."

"Suit yourself! And tell you father I said hello."

"Will do, goodbye!" I skipped off down the road, my dress swishing around my ankles. My corset only slightly affected my breathing, I refused to have it as tight as all the other girls. It was impractical. The great white church was being filled with townspeople climbing up the stone steps. I hopped up the steps and slipped into a pew in the back row, admiring the statues of Jesus and Mary, the stained glass windows, the altar... It was beautiful. I prayed silently for the poverty to decrease here, for plentiful harvest...

And for something exciting to happen.

Otherwise, I can assure you I'd die dramatically of boredom. Larissa and her minions, Annette, Lianna, and Collette sauntered into the church and took a seat in the front pews, smiling at the altar boy. He gave an awkward smile back and stared at the floor.

That was another thing, those girls were always trying to hang on important men. I guess it would make sense in this day and age, but still. To me, finding a husband was unimportant. I had been scolded by Father Patterson for these views several times.

Mass started, and I didn't listen to much of Father Patterson's words. Instead, I just thought about the world. My sketchbook lay in my lap, begging to be opened. The pencil lay in its spiral binding.

I plucked the pencil out and opened it, giving in to the book.

Countless drawings of people with wings filled the pages. One character that was my favorite, a man with long black hair and deep brown, almost red eyes, a long black coat, a piercing in one ear, and giant bat wings as dark as night. He covered many pages in my book. Something about his face led me to draw it over and over again. I usually drew what I saw in dreams, and this man I had seen so many times, I'd think my dreams were possessed. No one ever saw my drawings except my father. Everyone would think I was possessed by demons if I showed them these creatures.

I ran a finger down a close up of the man's face. He was so beautiful. So out of the ordinary. How I wished a man like him would come to this dreary town, where creativity was shunned and everyone was to be "normal".

I drew another sketch of the man, drawing until I noticed it was time to go. I quickly put everything away and got up, and was just about to leave when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Annabelle. Care to tell me what you were doing back there alone? It didn't look like you were listening to me."

It was more of an accusation than a question.

"I was listening, and I was keeping myself busy."

"Shouldn't praying be enough to keep yourself 'busy'?"

"I felt like drawing."

"Silly girl," he scowled, ripping my sketchbook from my hands. As he flipped through the pages, his eyes widened, "What are these things?"

"Father, they're just drawings."

"Then why do you draw them so much? This man you draw looks like a messenger of Satan himself!" Father Patterson tossed the sketchbook to the ground and tried to drag me away. I managed to scoop it up and break my shoulder out of his grasp.

"How dare you break away from me!"

"I wanted my sketchbook back..." I looked at him straight in the eyes, praying to God he'd let me leave.

"And I say it's possessing you! No, I say you aren't even human! Who else has hair as white as snow, and eyes as green as emeralds? You should be burned! Burned!"

The altar boy rushed out and put a hand on Father Patterson's shoulder, "Father, please calm down. She's just a girl."

"She's evil!"

"No, no, Father, you said that we're all children of God. Come, let's get some tea..."

“Absolutely not! I need to get a burning prepared for this one. Tea can wait for later, boy! Now fetch me my exorcism tools.”

“Father, please. She’s just a girl.”

I started praying, my head bowed slightly. I feigned sadness and thought of something sad, and started to cry.

“See Father? You’ve caused pain in an innocent girl.”

I willed Father Patterson to drop the matter. This usually worked. If I concentrated hard enough, I could make things work the way I wanted them to. Father Patterson stayed silent and grunted, then calmed down. The altar boy sighed in relief.  He led Father Patterson away, looking over his shoulder to smile at me. A real smile, unlike the ones he'd given to Larissa and her minions.

I smiled back and rushed out of the church. Everyone had always expected me to be some kind of wretch, I suppose, with my white hair and pale skin. Especially since I looked nothing like my father. He had shoulder length black hair and brown eyes. My mother was dead, she had died of pneumonia some years ago. She too had black hair and brown eyes. Their hair was straight. Mine was wavy. My mother was petite, and I was curvy.

I don't think I'm their biological child. I mean, really.

I rushed back to the iron shop, sitting on its porch and flipping through my sketches. There wasn't a single thing I wanted to do right now. I just wanted to sit in peace.

"Annabelle. You here again?"

I looked up to see the face of that beautiful voice, Kendell Inkcrest. He was the closest thing to beautiful I'd ever seen in this close minded town. All the other boys had their hair short, never far past their ears, but Kendell had it all the way down to his mid back. Of course, it was always in a loose ponytail as well. His hair in the front was shaggy, hanging down a bit past his chin, his bangs in his gorgeous ice blue eyes. His face was elegant and sharply angled, still looking strong. He had a small metal stud in both earlobes and a rosary around his neck. I loved his clothes, a slightly ruffled white shirt with a black vest and black pants with black boots.

Simply beautiful.

I nodded, "Yes."

He sat down next to me, smiling, "Then it's a good thing I'm here this time."

Kendell was an apprentice iron worker, and he almost always skipped his lessons. Quite juvenile, to be honest.

I smiled back, "Oh? Good for who?"

"I haven't a clue. Myself, perhaps...?" That impish grin that I loved so much spread over his lips.

"Charming." I elbowed him and smirked. "Do you have a lesson right now, Mr. Inkcrest?"

"It just ended, Miss Drevensek."

"Then how about you and I take a stroll?" I got up and smiled, offering him my arm. I held my sketchbook in my other arm.

He smiled back and took it, "A wonderful idea."

We walked off the porch and talked of several different topics that crossed our mind. I spoke of drawing and writing, he spoke of sea adventures and what he did when he skipped his lessons- which was really just drinking and playing cards.

"That's what you skip for?"

"Yeah. I like doing it, it helps me forget."

Kendell lost his parents when he was four. They were killed when his home was robbed. He recovered rather quickly, talking again in only a year. The iron worker, Mr. Calsworth, took him in and tried to train him into iron working. Kendell never had an interest in it, however, but it didn't matter. Mr. Calsworth's real son had already been trained and was going to take over the shop.

"'It's a skill you may use one day, Kendell!' I can't see how I'd ever have to make something if there's a shop close by!" He sighed in exasperation.

"You never know, you might be in a tight spot and have to make something yourself. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"I suppose."

We stopped at the small town restaurant titled lamely "Middleville Restaurant" and he smiled at me, "Might as well stop for a bite."

I nodded and we walked inside. We sat down and I set my sketchbook down on the table. The waitress, Mariam, smiled at us.

"Miss Drevensek and Mr. Inkcrest, not a surprise to see you two together," she winked at us, "What can I get you today?"

"Strawberry ice cream and a glass of warm milk would be wonderful," I smiled.

"Great. How about you?"

"Pheasant soup and wine, thanks."

"I'll be back soon."

When Mariam left, Kendell snickered, "Warm milk?"

I raised an eyebrow in response, "Wine?"

"What? You can enjoy a glass of wine anywhere."

"As you can milk," I couldn't help but to chuckle a bit. We got into some of the most random debates sometimes.

"But at least wine makes you look more your age. You're sixteen, and you're asking for milk?"

"It's good for your bones! And wine makes you look a lot older than your age, not just eighteen..."

Ah, yes. He was two years older than me.

"How much older?" He smirked in amusement.

"About three to five years older...?" I blinked. I didn't really have much of an estimate.

Either way, I honestly thought him drinking was a bit attractive.

"Interesting... May I see your sketchbook?"

"Uh, I don't usually let anyone see it..."

"Please?" Kendell looked at me with a slight pout, and I gave in. He sat back and we were in silence for a few moments as he flipped through the pages until Mariam came back with our food and drinks. She placed the cup of warm milk and ice cream in front of me, and a bottle of wine, a glass, and a bowl of soup in front of Kendell. He put the sketchbook next to me and looked up at Mariam.

"Here you are, enjoy."

"Thank you."

She smiled at me, but her gaze mostly lingered on Kendell. He smirked at her and nodded, causing her to flush and scurry away.

"I can see someone likes you, Kendell," I shot him a wink and giggled.

"What can I say, I've got more charm than any other man here." He took a spoonful of hot soup in his mouth, slightly cringing at the heat.

"Cocky b*****d," I snickered and ate a spoonful of ice cream.

"Ladies shouldn't curse," his lips pulled into an amused grin.

I waved a hand and wrinkled my nose, "Who said I wanted to be like Larissa?"

Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall appear. Larissa had spotted us and her shoes clacked against the floor as she walked over to us. She eyed Kendell hungrily before snapping her head towards me,

"Annabelle! What are you doing with a man, alone? It's a good thing I stopped by, or else you two could have done something sinful!"

Says the one who could qualify for being a prostitute.

She took a seat next to Kendall and clasped her hand over his arm, shooting me a glare before smiling up at Kendell, "How are you two this afternoon?"

"Good," we answered at the same time.

"That's nice. So, Annabelle... I heard that Father Patterson thinks you're possessed. I wonder why?”

Kendell, who had taken another spoonful of soup, spit it back up. He started laughing, "What is wrong with that man? I think perhaps he's the one possessed."

Larissa gasped sharply, "How dare you insult Father Patterson! You feel no shame, do you? Then again, you had no real parents to teach you anything about the word of the Lord..."

"Larissa, mind your tongue." I stared at her like my housemaids often did when they scolded me, and she glared.

"Don't command me, you disgusting wench!"

"Get out."

She hesitated before raising her voice again, "You heathen! You disgrace! I bet Lord Drevensek isn't even your real father, you're a mutant! Witch, is what you are! With your white hair and sinful green eyes, the color of envy itself!"

"The envy that you possess? Run along, petty rat. This is no place for you right now."

Larissa screamed and stomped off, and I glanced back at Kendall. He sat there with his head bowed and his lips in a grim line.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be, you weren't the one that said it. I think I should go." His hand slipped into his pocket as he found money for the meal. Kendell dropped it on the table and started to walk off, then turned around, "Your drawings are great."

Then he was gone.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think?

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

After reading this first chapter, I'm certainly hooked on your style and flow of ink. I enjoyed the way the characters came to life quickly within the flow and drew me into the tale being told. Very nice.

Aaron

[MajorJesusFreak]

Please more chapters :) I can't stand the anticipation for chapter 7 and the rest of the chapters :)

[Review]

hook line and sinker!! i'm reading the next chapter without a doubt love it

[Stephanie Slayer]

Brilliant work

[Safe&sound<3 ♫]

this. is, absolutley amazing! great job! i can't wait to see how it goes(: