
05-21-2007, 06:08 AM
Okay, so I'm posting a story I wrote, far from completion, this is sort of the introduction to the families primary problems, constructive criticism is welcome
Before we begin this story, I must inform you, it’s not an entirely happy-ending, nor is it particularly modern. So first, let’s take ourselves to America, South Carolina, Charleston. But no, to get to where the story begins, we have to go to March 21st, 1975. You may see we are outside a house, rather large, one of the richer families no doubt. The wood covering it is painted white, and the windows are rather big, to let the sunlight through, and just look at that beautiful garden. Looking at the house, it must contain a rather big family, but we need to meet them first. Now hold on tight, keep quiet, because we’re going in.
Bennet Theodore Miller sat on the pale rug, which covered old wooden floorboards. His arms were around his youngest sister, controlling her hands, showing her how to play the small instrument, which consisted of two long strips of wood, diagonally slanted, with metal slabs all the way down. In the small peachy fingers were two sticks of wood, with a sort of ball on the end, like a hat. It was called a xylophone, though young Hope Ellie Miller could only say “Zylaf”, which was a significant improvement on the words Bennet said at the same age of three, though he was nearing eighteen now, and spoke proper English, though with his accent. The eldest of his sisters, being two years older than him at nineteen, Constance Esther Miller was sat back in the large oak chair, comforted with cushions, her head in a large bound book. Owl-like spectacles covered her pale, pointed face, and her light brown hair, that had fallen loose of the messy bun she put it in, fell in front of her eyes, which were a bright emerald green, reflective of the leaves on the trees outside. Charity and Joshua were upstairs, playing in one of the rooms. They were the ten year old twins, but were rather quiet. They spent the most time together, and rarely sat with the others. Bennet fondly ran his fingers through Hope’s short light mahogany coloured hair, it was tufty in some places, and he was somewhat amused by playing with it. Soon his second eldest sister came in, at fifteen, the troublemaker. Lorraine Sally Miller had always opposed the lifestyle the family had been leading, she wanted more than the life that her family had provided. She knew all the out-west terms, and drove her parents insane. More than once they’d threatened to clean her mouth out, but she didn’t care. She loved her eldest brother, Bennet, but hated Charity and Joshua. She barely noticed Constance, and completely ignored Hope, when she lost control, only Bennet could hold her back. Whilst all the others had lighter brown hair and green eyes, herself and Bennet had more of a blue-grey colour in their eyes, and such dark brown hair, it looked black. But the difference was, Lorraine was perfectly healthy, but Bennet had an extremely weak chest, and was on the way to deaths door. But as things were happening, he was not to be the first.
Charity and Joshua were outside playing, Bennet was sat in a chair by the window watching them fondly. Hope lay sleeping in his arms, and his mother was upstairs in the large bedroom, preparing to go out with their father. Bennet could see Constance sat outside, under a large oak tree, and what a surprise, her head was buried in the large volume again. It was rare to see her without some sort of reading material, and it was rare to see her actual face. Now one thought tickled him. Where was Lorraine? Then shouts upstairs let him know exactly where she was, arguing with mother again. “Ma, I found a man I can tie to, you know I’m not gon’ kick up a row now!” To which her mother half-heartedly replied, “Lorraine Sally Miller, you must start speaking proper English, I’ll have no more of this rubbish. You have been brought up as a proper young lady, so start acting it. Also I’ll have none of this man business, your 15, and your father will get you a husband as suits.” Poor mother, she tried so hard. “Ma! I ain’t no hard case!” “LORRAINE! Use proper English young lady! Get to your room now!” Oh dear, mother was angry. Bennet sighed, and he heard Lorraine storming down the hall to her room, and slamming the door. Mother had so much trouble from Lorraine, Bennet was surprised she hadn’t gone insane. Lorraine was sweet when she wanted to be, but she knew how to get her own way, and sure enough she was out of her room, then out of the house within an hour. Probably off to meet up with some boy again.
It wasn’t that Bennet disapproved of his younger sister having boys, more the fact it was viewed as a very incorrect thing to do, and that father would go insane if he heard about it. But then again, father hadn’t worked out Bennet wasn’t at all acceptable, infact some thoughts in his head were considered against god, the law, and his family. There was no doubt within the lads mind that if his father knew what he knew, he’d be out on the cold streets. He softly carried Hope up to her nursery room, it was rather simplistic really, but the cot had knitted patchwork covering it, which he enveloped her in, before returning downstairs. Mother greeted him, she seemed rather red faced, and Bennet knew that was because of her argument with Lorraine. He understood perfectly, and held her in a soft loving embrace. It seemed the whole family could rely on him, like he was the rock there. But one can only be a rock for so long. Almost immediately as he broke off the embrace, his bronchi started up, and he was coughing heavily. His mother pushed him into a seat, and fetched him some warm water, with soaked in herbs. He drank it, though the taste was rather unpleasant. “Thank you.” He murmured, breathing heavily.
Eventually his parents were ready to go, his father leading out his mother by her arms. She was wearing one of her best dresses, and looked truly beautiful. As usual Bennet and Constance were in charge, not that it made much difference. Hope was an angel, Joshua and Charity were fairly quiet, and Lorraine was… uncontrollable. Constance gave the others their meal, sending Charity and Joshua to bed. Lorraine was still out somewhere, probably with that boy. Bennet sighed, smiling at Constance. She was a delightful cook, and never once complained. She’d always been that way, never once lost her temper either. Bennet admired her a lot, she never said a word when father announced she was going to be marrying Edward Phillips, even though he used to bully her for her glasses. He’d always made rude inappropriate comments, but his father was a very rich, well-known man, who saw her as a perfect opportunity for his son. Admittedly the comments ceased after Bennet threatened to thump Edward, but true enough, Constance still hated him. She was always that accepting, a complete contrast of Lorraine. Actually, was that Lorraine now? He peered out the window. Aye, it was. She appeared very red faced, wait, she was crying. A frown creased his face, and he opened the door and met her on the porch. Looking at her closer, he saw she was bruised and scratched. Bennet pulled her into his warm embrace, and she began to cry into his shoulder. “Lorraine, what’s going on?” She didn’t answer, instead buried deeper into his shoulders. “…Lorraine, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” After a moment of sniffing, she mumbled, “He attacked me.” The worried frown on Bennet’s face deepened. “Who did?” Again she didn’t answer him, or not straight away. After a few minutes, she looked up, and replied, “Edward Phillips.” Marvellous. He sighed deeply, not adding anything to the conversation. After a while Constance came out, keeping the silence but giving a questioning look to Bennet.
TBC
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