Chapter one- The birth of a legend.

Read...comprehend...or you will fail

Chapter one-The birth of a legend.       

 

 

I will tell you right now that my story is not going to have no record of me in it. I am the author, yes, but that does not mean I must put myself in the story. Just listen to me, fill in the blanks, and try to comprehend.

 

            It starts over 300 years ago, 21st of January,1683 to be exact. Yes, you may count that as four, or maybe even five. It all depends what year you are reading this in. Anyways, the town name is unknown, nameless, and lost. This town is so small that it should not even count as a town. There is no more than 200 people that live from one end to the other. (Maybe the reason of that is because the town is close to isolation.)

The town stands and breaths behind massive trees of pine and oak; their arms seems to shade away all the life behind it. Within this town, green grass that seems to fade with age roams from one corner to another. There is no roads, not even dirt ones, because the town is small enough to walk from one place to another by foot. Sure there are horses, but they are not always in use. They seem to be getting fatter and lazier each season.

There are a few buildings that stand tall and chubby. Yes, some buildings are smaller than others. Most of the buildings are made of red brick with oak wood floors that seem to creak whenever you walk on them. Children like to say that the creak is a moan whenever you are too heavy. The adults roll their eyes with that remark made by them. Surely, they forgot what it was like when they were children.

There are a few distinctive marks on this town. To name a few would be hard to say. The church, for example, is one of the most visited places among all else. Like what is mentioned, the church is different. Instead of the red brick that all the houses are made out of, the church is hand made of Oak wood from head to toe. The outside of the church is painted with white paint that is peeling from old age. Obviously, it is the oldest building in this nameless town. The interior decoration of the church is very basic. A few crosses here and there, a little splat of paint, a breathtaking glass window of a disturbing image, and seats for sitting. The size of the church is what makes it the most odd. It is one of the largest places in the town, 700 feet squared, and that is small comparing on what its purpose is to be for. The inside of the church is made big enough to fit a casket. In the back is, of course, a cemetery. You will learn more about this church along the way. Reader, we must get going with the story.

The place that we should be talking about right now, good thing we are in time, is 263 N. I. Building complex 4 of 8. The time is 11:23 A.M. Mr. and Mrs. Demeek are expecting a child, and the moment has come. It started off as a normal day. The Mr. and Mrs. were having another normal fight about the child. The Mr. threatens to leave the Mrs. and the Mrs. says to go, but arguments never go as they should. Not even five minutes in that argument the Mrs. states that it is time. She goes in a pain state and Mr. of the house runs to fetch the town doctor.

"Please, hurry!" She clutches his neck as he lays her down on the master bedroom bed. "You must. The child is coming soon. I can feel it!" She lets out a scream of pain and clutches her eyes together. Her light brown curls are sticking to her face with new born sweat.

"It will be fine." The Mr. of the house kneels down beside her bedside. The Mrs. lets out a gasp of pain once more and then squeezes the blanket that is laying underneath her. "And stop showing me you are in pain. You are a woman, you are made for this. You should of never conceived the child if you could not handle it." Mr. D stood up and headed for the door as another loud gasp from his tortured wife was distinguished.

"I will be back with the doctor. Try to hold your legs together and wait for me and him to come in."

Mr. D slammed the door shut and the Mrs. was left to fight the battle on her own. She knew that the child would not listen to the father, if he is the father anyway. She will not tell the Mr. of the house that she has been sleeping with seven other men at the time the child was said to be conceived. No. The truth will kill her, even in a literal sense.

Once more, pain washes over her and more sweat seems to beat her dead on the face.

"I can not wait much longer." She squeezes her knees together and winces. "It is time." She confirms this out loud.

Of course she knows that the Mr. of the house will punish her later for giving birth without his consent. That is her problem to deal with. For now, anyway.  "If you don't come out soon, you will die." Tears form in her eyes. Without warning, she goes in the birth position and pushes with blood shot eyes. Screaming is heard through out the house, and the sense of serenity has long gone vanished.

　

　

The Mr. of the house has finally approached the doctors building. Being the man that he is, he just walks in a rush, fist held tightly to his side. His face is a deep, royal red.

"Jesus." An old man yelps from behind a gloss desk. He has glasses that liked to hang passed his crooked nose. Like every old man in the town, he has long, greyish white hair. (People in this town never cut their hair. It is frowned upon.)

The Mr. acted like he ran a mile, when in reality he only walked a couple of buildings down. His breath is heavy and his chest seems to be going up and down faster than a jack hammer. "It's time!" He gasped out.

Know other words are said between them. The Mr. storms out before the old man can say a word or make a sudden move.

 

　

The doctor and the Mr. walk into the house quickly, yet settled. The doctor had all of his equipment in hand, ready to experience the worse.

Of course, the end is near. The beginning is now upon us. This may sound like some odd fairy tale story to you or maybe even a myth. Trust me reader that when they went in that room, all they saw was blood. Lots of it.

 A deep cry was heard above all others. A little child, hanging from her mother, was covered in blood and close to death. The mother, however, was not close to death. She was dead.

The doctor was in shock, of course, but held his emotion within him like a professional would. The Mr. fell to his knees, not believing what he was seeing.

"Why...lord." He stumbled and crawled to the bloody bed, and fell just in reach to the bloody corpse of the one he used to love.

The doctor walked silently behind him and put his hand on his shoulder attentively.

"Son, it is natural." He took out some sharp object from his odd shaped bag and cut the child from the mother. The child cried a lot more than originally. The doctor took the child in his arms and held it out arm length.

 "Mr. Demeek, let me introduce you to your son." The doctor took a off white shirt that was thrown to the floor, possibly the mothers shirt, and wrapped him in it. The shirt had blood seeping through.

 

            Now reader, let me tell you one thing. Happiness has now ended from this point one. The terror of our tale is about to begin. Why am I telling you this nonsense about a birth gone wrong? This is where our tale starts. How the events came into play. Are you bored now? Well, that is too bad. You must turn the page and read the history of time to live. It is up to you to live or die, but without past you are blind.

　

"My son?" The Mr. spat out. He took the child in his arms and the infant continued to scream. "My son." He whispered, yet again. He held the screaming child very firm in his arms, almost squeezing it hard enough to have some harm to the poor thing.

"Sir, I must tell you....the child is very weak. He will survive, in my opinion, but I would not expect anything. Without a mother, life is nothing. A mother is a life source to us all." He packed up all of his equipment that he had into his odd shaped bag, refusing to look at the infant in his father’s tight arms.  He looked over his shoulder once he reached the door, and that was all he would do. "I will have Mr. Drove to come and take the body away. You have a lot of planning for the dead."

"I do not think he would be too thrilled to hear that his sister has died in child birth." Mr. D. announced, smiling for some odd reason.

The doctor nodded and left.

Reviews

[Kaitlynn A. Black]

That was insane! I want more of the story though. It really captured me and pulled me in. I like your non traditional way of story telling. It adds a on stage flavor to the tale, like a play or something. I did notice there were a few minor typos through out, but it wasn't that bad.

I hope you keep the story going! =D
XO - Kate