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Jodie
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Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Dance of Revenge - Chapter Thirteen

Happy Sunday. Time to grab yourself a cuppa, sit down, and read the next instalment of The Dance of Revenge

You know, I don't know why, but I didn't include at the beginning of these posts the poem I wrote that was to be included at the start of the book. It was always a pretty big thing in Sweet Dream romance novels to have a poem at the beginning of those books - hence the reason I included one, I think.

Now, seeing that this week is a very short chapter, I thought I'd include the poem for your, er, reading pleasure.

Before I do though, let's recap last week. (For all new readers, this is a book I wrote at age 14, and all the chapters so far can be found on the RHS of my homepage - just scroll down until you find the pink ballet slippers.)

So, last week we revisited Elizabeth and Adam, with Elizabeth experiencing renewed hope that Sherrie may, in fact, be still alive. Elizabeth was making a phone call to find out more information just as we finished up.

Hmmm.

Ok - here's the poem, followed by lucky Chapter Thirteen. (And remember: anything written in red [and in brackets like this] are my comments about my writing back then.)


The Dance of Revenge

It started as a dance of love
a bond they'd hold forever. 
Hopes and dreams and fantasies
they thought they'd share together.

And then one day he came along
and tore their world apart.
For daughter it was now the end
for mother now the start.

Far away their bodies stood
until there was no more.
Their love was gone, their friendship ruined
their hate was always sore. 

And now that dance is of revenge
one seen from all above.
Except for two who now it is
another dance of love.

Whoa. Maya Angelou - eat your heart out.

Ok, now it's time for this week's instalment... enjoy ;)


THE DANCE OF REVENGE
Chapter Thirteen

LOUINA sat in the doctor’s office watching him read over these papers. [Yeah. You know, there were, like, these papers - you know?] She seemed to think they were probably about her. Louina didn’t feel uncomfortable with Pierre. She felt very much at home.

Pierre looked up at Louina and smiled warmly. His lips shone brightly and his eyes contrasted well. [Huh? Was the man wearing gloss?]

“It’s nice to see you looking healthy, Louina. These records,” he said, holding up the papers, “are wonderful. They tell me that you are a healthy young girl. This is good, Louina, because in exactly three days we start your first operation.” Louina looked at Pierre in surprise. Three days? So soon.

“Three days,” she repeated quietly. Pierre laughed gaily. [I doubt laughing ‘gaily’ is an appropriate response by a doctor. Even a good-looking plastic surgeon.] These records show you to be in very good condition so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t start the operations as soon as possible. You’ll be fine.” His words gave little comfort to Louina but she attempted to settle down. She would be fine. Everything would be alright, because Pierre said so. And then…then she could start her new life.

“Alright, Pierre, I’m in your hands now. I will be ready.”

Bon!

*     *     *     *     *

Marianna was very pleased with Pierre’s decision.

“That is wonderful, Louina! You’ll become and feel a whole new person. Just think how better you’ll feel. Then after that, you may want to look for your real parents. After all the operations, I mean.”

Louina frowned. She already knew who they were. They were bad people. Awfully bad.

“Did I tell you my news, Louina?” Marianna asked cheerfully.

“No, you didn’t, Marianna. What is it?” Louina asked, curiously.

“They have found another body in that horrible river. Now there are only five more people to find. Three of them are thought to be your age. If they are found and identified Louina, your identity will be known. Then we will be able to find your parents. Won’t that be good for y…,” Marianna looked at Louina’s face. She looked horrified. “Louina, what is it? Are you ill?” Louina looked at Marianna. Her forehead had worry lines. Louina looked at her feet, her head felt too light. They couldn’t find any more people. Marianna would find out who she was. They would all find out. Everything swerved in front of her and she attempted to grab Marianna, but it was too late. She had fainted. [Dontchya love the drama?]

*     *     *     *     *

Something cold was on Louina’s forehead. She wondered what it was. She opened [her eyes] to find Marianna asleep in the seat next to her bed. For a moment, she tried to remember what had happened, then it came to her. The news. Marianna’s news. Louina shuddered. Marianna thought that it would cheer her up, but it hadn’t. It had made her feel more scared and anxious.

She felt her forehead, and on it was a damp flannel. She pulled it off and threw it down on the ground. She sat up, but felt dizzy, so she rested back against the pillows. Louina looked silently at Marianna. What a nice woman. She had been so kind to Louina. Maybe they wouldn’t find the bodies after all. There was no use worrying at that moment anyhow.

Marianna stirred slightly, so Louina quickly closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She felt a hand rest on her forehead, then the flannel was placed on it instead.

“My poor Louina,” came the hushed words of Marianna. “Sleep well, ma cherie.” There was silence for a short moment, then she heard her door open then shut. Marianna was gone.

Slowly Louina opened her eyes. Never in such a long time had she felt more lonlier [or just ‘lonely’ would have done] than she did then. Her heart felt empty and so dead. Marianna leaving had left her feeling unhappy. For so long she had felt hatred for her mother and Mr Brair. Now she felt sorry for them almost, sorry that they could have been better people, but they weren’t. They were and would always be bad people. Louina knew this, though she wished she were wrong. For her mother. For the first time since the day she awoke in the hospital, Louina began to cry - for Sherrie. For the person she was. For the person she wouldn’t ever be again. 


Enjoy your Sunday, people.

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