A story I'm working on...

[Nicotine]

Now that I'm done with Creative Writing class, I haven't really been motivated to write poetry and drawing can get a little monotonous for me after awhile, so I decided to write story that I've had in my head for quite awhile. So I've decided to share some of it here. Here's the prologue, please tell me what you think of it. I hope it's not overly dramatic XD:

Prologue: Sightless Innocence
Finally, Patricia could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. She found herself being blinded by the lights in her hospital room. Waking up from the anesthesia was much less dramatic then she thought it would be, no one was staring over her with wicked smiles and scalpels. She felt some pressure on her right hand and turned to face her smiling husband. Her heart rate picked up with hope; the baby was alright.

“The Caesarian was perfect, Tricia, everything is fine. You just lost a lot of blood and they’re replacing it…and I got a little squeamish,” Patricia managed a giggle then winced in pain as her husband stroked her head, “He’s beautiful Tricia. Eight pounds and six ounces, and he’s strong. Eden’s beautiful.”

“Eden Owen Schneider…that’s great. He’s here,” Patricia said in almost a whisper, “I wanted to be awake for the birth, but as long as he’s alright everything is okay.” She fingered the tender area where the incision happened and sighed. She had come to the hospital already in labor and ready to have her child but due to worsening complications with her blood pressure she was unable to do so and the result was the birthing of her son without her consciousness. However, Patricia and her husband Tristan were used to complications.

In the beginning they were the classic teenage couple. They grew up and still lived in the spontaneous city of Los Angeles and were used to people their age or younger falling in love. Patricia met Tristan in the library in their second year of high school, an unlikely place to find a cute boy with messy sand-brown hair and perfect blue eyes, she thought. Tristan thought Patricia was striking with her sharp features and straight black hair she acquired through her half-Cherokee decent. For days they pretend-read at the same table in silence while keeping their attraction to each other as an open-secret. By the end of two weeks they were walking around hand in hand as they did when they left high school, still a couple. Tristan decided on going straight into the workforce as a carpenter and after giving up on community college after three weeks Patricia did the same and worked at a grocery store. As fast as they were pushed out of high school and into the real life they were introduced to parenthood at the tender age of eighteen when Patricia found out she was carrying Tristan’s child. They decided to lunge into marital life six months later when they got married at a local chapel with Patricia’s mother and Tristan’s parents reluctantly looking on. Patricia’s father was probably fishing somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico; he left the family when she was ten. In eight months Patricia and Tristan moved above Larry’s Laundromat in one of the low-class portions of L.A. Now they had a son. Tristan clutched Patricia’s hand.

“My parents are up in Sacramento right now visiting my aunt. I called them about the baby already,” Tristan said, “Called up your mom too. She said she’s on her way over here.” Patricia discovered she was abusing her strength and relaxed a bit more in her bed, giving Tristan a simple nod. The hospital room door swung open slowly and the doctor walked in along with a nurse behind him holding the couple’s baby.

“Doctor Hensley!” Tristan welcomed him excitedly, “How’s the baby?” Patricia struggled to sit up a little.

“Doctor, can I hold Eden? You know how I haven’t seen him since he was born…,” Patricia asked softly. Dr. Hensley tried to smile at the couple but failed miserably. His gaze played between the new parents and the nurse holding their son. The nurse also looked quite unhappy and answered blandly to the baby’s coos. Dr. Hensley, pulled up a chair by Patricia’s bed on Tristan’s side and motioned for the nurse to take a seat as well. She sat down, rocking the baby back and forth.

“Well…” Dr. Hensley began slowly, “There’s no use telling you later or that’ll increase the shock…,” Tristan and Patricia looked at each other briefly then back at the doctor, their eyes beginning to show signs of shock.

“What’s the problem, Doc?” Tristan asked, his voice quivering. Dr. Hensley took a deep breath looking over at Eden then resting his aged hands on his knees. He ran a hand through his grey hair.

“Well…” he repeated, “We didn’t notice it when he was first born because we were so busy making sure he was okay due to Patricia’s condition, but when we were performing a basic check up on him we…well, ah…Mr. Schneider, your son is blind.” Almost in unison, Tristan and Patricia’s mouths dropped at the news. Tristan began to quiver.

“How’s that possible, Doc? He looks perfect, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with him,” Tristan pierced Dr. Hensley’s heart with his look of denial, “Why, Doc?! He should be okay!”

“While it’s rare, it’s not uncommon, Mr. Schneider. We currently don’t have a reason for his lack of sight. We can do further tests and tri-” Suddenly, Tristan jumped from his seat and stood over the nurse, starting in his son’s eyes. He then waved his hands frantically in front of Eden. When he realized the baby wasn’t reacting he turned hysterical.

“Look, Eden!” he screamed, “Look! Look at my hands, damnit!” Tristan’s eyes began to swell with tears of defeat as Dr. Hensley rested his head on his left hand. Patricia was still in a state of shock which was deepened as Tristan’s waving confirmed the truth. She began to feel herself go almost completely numb.

“Like I said, we’ll check him out further, but there’s not much we can do,” Dr. Hensley explained sadly, “There’s a chance he may regain his sight, but that’s not a promise.” Tristan stood sobbing into his hands and Patricia stared at Eden blankly. Dr. Hensley stood, looking at the couple and told the nurse to let Patricia have a chance to spend time with the baby for the first time. Patricia was for the most part unaware of her surroundings as the nurse placed the baby on her lap and exited with the doctor. Tristan sat down where the nurse was sitting.

“Why…why…why…?” he asked himself, he asked the Lord, the God he held responsible for the situation. At last, Patricia moved slowly, looking at her baby. Tristan was right, he was beautiful. He skin was a natural tan, he was of a very healthy weight, and he had a head of black hair already. His eyes were a strange, blank, and green and he moved them randomly, blinking often. She closed her eyes and silently joined Tristan in crying. The door swung open and Patricia and Tristan slowly looked to find Patricia’s mother standing there with a big smile.

“Oh boy!” she exclaimed, “I’ve finally got a grandchild, and I’m not even fifty. Oh Tricia, let me see the little dear,” she noticed the tears of the young parent’s faces, “Tricia? Tristan? What is it?” Patricia stroked Eden’s cheek and he stuck out his infant tongue.

“He can’t see, mom. He’s blind. He was born blind,” Patricia answered vacantly. Maria, her mother, showed a sullen face which made the wrinkles she had deepened. Tears began to collect by the sides of her eyes.

“Oh, Tricia…Tristan…” Tristan got up, his eyes bloodshot. He suddenly looked a lot older.

“It might be temporary…the Doc says, Mom,” he mumbled, “Better go phone my parents…tell them about this…yeah, better go do that.” He left the room.

Eden would never obtain his sight.

[Rove]

First of all, Nicotine, you never cease to amaze me with your ability with words. Your sentences flow naturaly, the dialogues don't feel forced, the subtle touches of irony work well too.

The following are nit-picks, so feel free to ignore them if you don't agree with them.

(3rd paragraph) She had come to the hospital already in labor and ready to have her child but due to worsening complications with her blood pressure she was unable to do so and the result was the birthing of her son without her consciousness.
I'm not sure if you intended to write such a long sentence on purpose, or if just ended up that way. Though some people use the copout of writing long sentences to make their readers feel like they are running out of breath, it never really works. If you could divide that sentence in two, ot three parts, that paragraph would flow better.

(4th paragraph)They grew up and still lived in the spontaneous city of Los Angeles and were used to people their age or younger falling in love.
Though I do understand what you mean by 'spontaneous', the word doesn't work so much to describe a city. 'Wild', 'unpredictable', 'fast', although not conveying the same meaning seem more accurate to me. I think the 'or' could be replaced by 'and', to give the whole teenage couples a bit more impact.

(4th paragraph)For days they pretend-read at the same table in silence while keeping their attraction to each other as an open-secret.
'Pretended to read' sounds better to me than 'pretend-read'. 'Open-secret' doesn't say much, you're trying to say that they were flirting with each other passively in the library, or that their flirting was not a secret?

(4th paragraph)Tristan decided on going straight into the workforce as a carpenter and after giving up on community college after three weeks Patricia did the same and worked at a grocery store.
"Patricia did the same and worked at a grocery store" could work better if you changed "and worked at a grocery store" for "and started to work at/in a grocery store.

The whole 4th paragraph is a bit too long for its own good, although it focuses on Patricia and Tristan's lives and how they met, you could divide it in two parts: the first one focusing on how they met, the second part on when they start to live together. Just a thought.

Paragraphs nine and ten have the word 'quiver/quivering' too close, perhaps replacing one of those with a synonym could make the language more varied. Check for ideas (http://www.thefreedictionary.com/quiver)

(12th paragraph)Suddenly, Tristan jumped from his seat and stood over the nurse, starting in his son’s eyes.
You meant starting or staring?

(6th paragraph going bottom up)He skin was a natural tan, he was of a very healthy weight, and he had a head of black hair already.
'He' should be 'his'.

And that's it. Hopefully that helped a little, and remember, only change what you want, it's your brain child after all. Are you writing the first chapter now or you're waiting to have to the prologue completely done first?

[soundchazer]

For days they pretend-read at the same table in silence while keeping their attraction to each other as an open-secret.

Hmm... how about:

"For days they have engaged in their own little routine, pretending to read at the same table while keeping their attraction to each other a secret screaming to be known".

If they actually have an open attraction that they want to keep secret, then I would change the last part of the sentence to: "while keeping their attraction to each other a secret, a treasure to be shared only by two."

[Nicotine]

Wow, thanks a lot! Especially you, Rove. I corrected a lot of things that you pointed out. Here's what was altered:

(Para. 3) She had come to the hospital already in labor and ready to have her child. Regrettably, due to worsening complications with her blood pressure, she was unable to give birth naturally resulting in the birth of her son without her consciousness.

(Para. 4, which I split into two)They grew up and still lived in the volatile city of Los Angeles and were used to people their age and younger falling in love. For days they pretended to read at the same table in silence while professing their love for each other with smiles and occasional touches.

Tristan decided on going straight into the workforce as a carpenter and after giving up on community college after just three weeks Patricia did the same and found a job at a grocery store.

(Para. 10)Tristan began to tremble.

I'm working on the first chapter now...it's all going to start when Eden is around six.

[Mana]

I must admit, I'm rather impressed :3 It's good to see some excellent prose here at AA.

In any event, I must ask. I'm assuming this story is going to move along following Eden's life. How were you able to research such a difficult subject? Did you have family members/friends who have experienced similar things, or are you mostly working on the fly?

[Nicotine]

Well, no. No one in my family has any birth defects, sicknesses, ect. This is just a subject I've been thinking about for years and I've always wanted to write about it. And this may sound very bad but I'm really facinated with problems like this XD. I think it's interesting. But yes, when I'm really not sure about some things, I go and look it up. It's kind of embarrassing to be inaccurate ^^;.

And yes, this is going to follow Eden's life. Later on he's going to run into a girl who also has a birth defect, but I don't really want to give it away. ^_-

[Mana]

There's no shame in looking anything up. A good number of authors do. No matter the subject, it makes any story more believable if you know the truth behind the idea, instead of just pulling things out of your ass.

A little researrching tip, I have for you if you wouldn't mind. It's a great tool, and something I use myself when writing quite a bit.

Last year, I participated in a Novel Writing event during November of 2005 called NaNoWriMo (I'm not going to ramble on about it now... I'm saving that for October when registration for this year begins). Now, one of the forums available on their forum board is something called "Character and Plot Realism Q&A" where people post topics post help topics all devoted to helping people keep their ideas and characters and fresh and true to life as possible. You may not have had any family members born with a birth defect, but I'm sure plenty of people there have, and would be willing to help you as necessary.

I'm not sure if you can sign up for the forums or not, since forum signup is connected to participant sign up, but if you have any questions or anything you'd like me to post up there for you, I'd be more than happy to ^_^

And of course I can't expect you to give away the story :3 Even if I don't comment (since I normally don't), I'll be reading.

[Nicotine]

Thanks for the offer; I'll ask if I can't find anything. As for NaNoWriMo, I'm thinking of doing it the next time it starts.

[Mana]

x3~ That's great to hear. I find it an incredible writing tool, and I wish more writers were gutsy enough to take it as a go. I honestly didn't expect to finish last year, but when your store gets shut down and you're instantly out of a job, well, time frees up for you.

Enough of my rambling, though. Trust me, you'll be hearing enough of it come fall xD;

[Nicotine]

I'm excited about trying it out, sure is a challenge. I'll be really busy in school.

Anyways...*works on story*.

[aoi_n_asul]

well, rove pointed out the things i noticed already. it's a great story, and i think it flows really well together. the pacing is set at a nice, moderate pace. my only qualm: i think you could say operation instead of Ceasarian. i dont know, the word just sort of jumped out ^^ but it's just me though.

[Nicotine]

my only qualm: i think you could say operation instead of Ceasarian. i dont know, the word just sort of jumped out ^^ but it's just me though.

I just wanted to make it sound more important because it's not just any operation. XD

Anyway, here's the first chapter. I read over it a few times but there might still be some mistakes ^^;.
Chapter 1: Seeing the Difference

“Eden!” Patricia called, “It’s time for breakfast! I made homemade pancakes and bacon, just how you like them!”

“Imcomingmommy,” Eden gurgled as he washed the toothpaste out of his mouth and put his toothbrush back in the cabinet. He walked out of the bathroom keeping his right hand on the wall. His hand brushed over familiar sites where the paint had peeled off over time. Soon he felt slightly grimy tile and put his hands in front of him until he touched a metal chair. He climbed in it turning his head toward the sweet buttery smell of the pancakes and grinned as he felt a brush of air as his mother came closer and when he heard the clack of a plate in front of him. Patricia sat at the table next to her son and proceeded to nibble on a piece of bacon.

It was just the two of them on most mornings because Tristan would leave their apartment at four thirty before sunrise to go to work. Usually he would pull eighteen hour days which really took a toll on his well-being. His hair began to grey slightly, his eyes had bags under them, and he started to look as if he were in his mid to late thirties though he had just turned twenty-five. Patricia gazed at her son as he slowly guided his fork into his mouth, his clear green eyes beaming at the taste of his mother’s cooking as he faced the kitchen window instead of his plate. Patricia lovingly wiped butter from the corner of his mouth. He’s come a long way, she thought.

Patricia could still remember the pain that she and Tristan felt when they first learned of Eden’s blindness. After Dr. Hensley performed all the tests that he could and referred them to every doctor he knew, including an eye specialist all the way up in Chicago, the Schneiders decided to give up on finding a treatment for their son’s sightlessness.

His early years seemed to go by fast. Eden laughed, played, and cried just like any other child. When Eden was a toddler and he first learned to walk he would bump into the walls frequently so Tristan decided to install a soft padding on most of them. Soon, Eden began walking more slowly keeping his hands in front of him to avoid falls and later he learned how to get to his parents when he needed something and they were nearby by smelling their familiar scents. Along with learning how to safely move around, Eden quickly learned how to dress himself and take his own baths without slipping in the tub. Occasionally, when the family had time to go out, Eden could follow them without someone holding his hand. He would simply listen carefully to his parents’ footsteps and use his white cane as he was trained to do at around three and a half. He could even feel his way down the stairs to the Laundromat and get candy the vending machine there by counting out the letters and numbers on the buttons.

It surprised Patricia sometimes that he was already six. Though Eden was able to do so much and had been progressing wonderfully, Patricia was forced to quit working and watch over him because she couldn’t trust any babysitters to take care of him. As a result the Schneiders took a big blow to their already low income. Patricia and Tristan also decided not to have any more children, they couldn’t afford them. But ultimately they feared that the same nightmare that happened when Eden was born would rear its ugly head again.

Eden finished off his fifth pancake and proceeded to lick his plate clean. Patricia wrinkled her nose slightly and gathered their plates off the table. She walked toward the sink and proceeded to wash the plates as she sighed heavily.

“Eden,” she said gently, sounding slightly muffled by the running water and her position of her back facing the boy. Her voice was like the calm before a storm. Eden found her voice and turned to face her, “You know how we talked about school?” Eden’s face began to droop.

“I know Mommy,” he said defensively, “Daddy said I didn’t have to go right now.” Patricia sighed again and nodded a little. Tristan did say that, but they had a lengthy talk four nights back and Patricia decided it was time for Eden to start his education. She could see that Eden was bright, bright enough to go to school like any other kid even though he would have to master Braille. Fortunately, the nearby elementary school offered a program for special needs children like Eden and he would be able to learn everything he needed to become a full-functioning member of society. Everyday Patricia thought about how much better her life could have been if she had graduated from a proper college. She wasn’t about to let Eden fall through the cracks like she did, whether he was blind or not.

“Well, I know you like to stay here with Mommy and your toys and all,” Patricia explained, “But today you’re starting school.” She shut the water off, wiped her hands, and put them on her hips for unnecessary emphasis.

“But Mommy…,” Eden whined.

“No buts!” Patricia countered immediately, “You’re going. It’s almost eight and school starts at eight thirty. Go get your shoes on and let’s get moving.” Eden furrowed his brows and his cheeks turned red with frustration. He ran out of the kitchen in a livid huff and soon Patricia heard a loud thump. The wall definitely won. She sighed and slowly came to console him and put his sneakers on his feet.

“He gets that attitude from his father…” she muttered.

Patricia glanced at Eden often through the rear view mirror. He sat in the backseat facing straight ahead with his arms crossed. His messy, unbrushed hair had turned to a light sand-brown like his dad’s since he was born and matched with the leather seat. His demeanor showed anger but in reality he was terrified. Eden never really interacted with other children before so he was very shy and didn’t know what to expect at school. His mother told him awhile ago that it would be fun, just like when he played with his toys and his father said he’d make lots of friends that he could spend time with even out of school. Even though he was told these things he resented the idea. As a result, he was starting school almost a year late and beginning school a month after the current school year started.

Patricia continued to maneuver through the morning traffic and finally made it to the school. It was a large, dated structure with aging brown bricks. The front of the school was unimpressive, ugly even. It had a cracking foundation and dying shrubbery under the four large front windows, two of which were broken and boarded up. Patricia weaved effortlessly between the busses until she found a parking space. When Patricia called the school previously the principal informed her that the special needs teacher would be waiting by the front office everyday to walk her students to their classroom. Patricia put the car in park, got out of the car, and opened the back door.

“Come on Eden,” she said, “We’re here.” Eden didn’t bother to face her. He could smell the gas from all the busses and heard all the cars trying to get through the tight parking lot. It was obviously a dreadfully unfamiliar environment to him and consequently his fear increased. His lips formed a pout.
“I don’t wanna,” he answered defiantly. Patricia closed her eyes and asked God for patience.

“Get out of the car, Eden. Now!” she demanded. Her prayer obviously wasn’t answered. She clearly loved Eden but he definitely wasn’t obedient. The little boy deepened his pout and climbed out of the car with his mother helping him keep his footing. Patricia reached under the back seat, pulled out Eden’s white cane and slipped it into his right hand. As she knelt down, Patricia noticed tears collecting in his eyes.

“Now, now, come on Eden,” she said softly, “Mommy would never put you in a dangerous place. You’re gonna have fun, okay?” He nodded, still not believing her. She took his left hand, “Here Eden. I’m gonna walk you to your teacher. Then you’ll go to class, it’ll be okay.” They began heading toward the door, children from four to ten were all over the place, talking with their friends, walking inside to their classes. Patricia ignored the rude comments about her son and the whispers between the parents of normal children. Eden was crying fully now and murmuring like a wounded puppy. He tapped his cane on the floor slightly, feeling people staring at him and his mother.

Finally, the two got inside the building. The walls were a plain yellow and the front desk consisted of a large battered oak table and a nearly seventy year old secretary. A woman with strawberry blond hair and wide blue eyes was standing close to the desk surrounded by children, one of which was wheelchair bound. The children were of various ages, ethnicities, but all had unfortunate backgrounds.

“One, two, three…” the lady was counting them, “…six, seven, eight. Hmm, it looks like we’re just missing Kendra.” She looked up, probably thinking about where the missing girl was and caught Patricia’s gaze. Almost immediately she smiled, whispered something to the children, and walked over.

“Hello,” she beamed, holding out her hand. Patricia shook it nervously.

“Hi…” The woman glanced down at Eden, smiled then frowned slightly when she saw that he was blind. She turned her attention back to Patricia.

“You must be Mrs. Schneider, right? My name is Miss. Logan, they told me I was getting a new student but I guess I forgot,” she managed a slight laugh, “I’m sure your son will enjoy it here. This isn’t the best of schools mostly because of its location but I came here because I knew all the underprivileged kids here needed help. I used to work at the Lost Angeles Sight Center, so I hope I can teach your son a lot. I also know how to sign and work with children with other disabilities. Unfortunately, I’m the only special needs teacher here,” she let out a sad sigh but regained her sunny attitude quickly; “I’ve been working at this school for about ten years. It’s fun to cater to every child, but the stress…!” another giggle, “Anyway, don’t let me keep you, your son, um…”

“Eden,” Patricia offered, “His name is Eden.” Miss. Logan smiled.

“Right,” she answered, “I’m sure that Eden will feel right at home.” She got down to his level, “Don’t be so scared, little guy. I’ll make sure you have a great time.” She took his left hand from Patricia and winked at her, “I’ll take it from here. Thank you for letting him join my class.” Patricia nodded, headed back out to her car, and began to let out the tears she was holding back. She knew Eden had to go to school but she didn’t realize how painful it would be to have to let him out of her sight and supervision five days a week. She started her car, wiped her eyes, and remembered his sulky face.

Miss. Logan’s class consisted of three deaf children, four children with Downs Syndrome, and the wheelchair bound child who was in a car crash and suffered serious brain damage along with the loss of both of his legs. Miss. Logan pushed the wheelchair of the brain-damaged child while using her sharp eye and calm yet strongly audio able voice to direct the other kids. Eden walked slowly behind the group, constantly tapping his white cane and training his ears on Miss. Logan’s voice. She looked back at him once in awhile, occasionally asking him to increase his pace.

Eden’s dislike for school increased with every step he took. He could feel with his cane that the floor was uneven and sometimes felt himself walking over holes in it. His body responded uncomfortably with the heat in the building and the musty smell that tickled his nose. Miss. Logan’s voice and the class’ footsteps seemed to be increasing on the right of Eden so he turned the same way. Soon, he felt himself going through a doorway.

“Class, class, settle down and get to your places, please,” she smiled at everyone as she parked the disabled boy’s wheelchair in its respective place by her desk. The class room was small, but was colorful and friendly. Eden noticed it had a much sweeter smell then the rest of the building that he’d been through. All the hearing-impaired children sat at a desk together by the door and the Downs Syndrome-stricken ones by the back wall. Miss. Logan took Eden’s hand and walked him to the front of the room, shouting for everyone’s attention while waving at the deaf children’s table.

“Okay class, I’d like for you all to meet Eden Schneider. He’s new to our class and will be joining us from now on,” she spoke in a pleasant voice while signing rapidly, “Unfortunately Eden is not able to see all of us. He’s what we call blind. B-l-i-n-d,” she signed each letter for emphasis, especially for the younger deaf children, “I’m sure that will not be a problem though, you all will make him welcome, right?” Miss. Logan received multiple yeses in the forms of hollow moans, slurred speech, and hand signs, “Good,” she smiled, “You all may visit while I get Eden situated.”

Miss. Logan took Eden’s hand and let him to a chair. He put his white cane on the floor and felt something hard, like wood, in front of him. He figured he was sitting at her desk. Miss. Logan took a seat in front of him.

“Eden, you’ll be sitting up here with me and Jonathan Corner, on your right. He’s also six like you, but can’t speak much. I’m sure you two will find a way to get acquainted,” Miss. Logan displayed a tight smile. “Everyday I plan to teach you the basics of Braille. Do you know what that is?”

Eden shook his head no.

“Well, it’s a series of dots in groups that represent letters and words. I’m going to teach you how to read using your fingers,” she pulled out a card and placed it on the table then grabbed Eden’s right hand putting his fingers at the top of it, “We’re going to start with the ABC’s. Feel that dot you’re touching? That’s the letter ‘A’ and also the number one, but we’ll do numbers another day. Now go to the next dots, the ones that are up and down or vertical. See, that’s ‘B’. You have to pretend the dots are in a two by three rectangles…” Eden was feeling the dots like he was told but that was about it; he didn’t really understand much. He sighed. Eden was pretty confused and his head hurt but didn’t tell Miss. Logan.

When Miss. Logan had walked him through ‘L’ she let him take a break.

“Go back to the other dot-letters I showed you while I give the others their assignments,” she got up and left him. Eden sighed more heavily and went back to ‘A’ when he heard a moan from his left. He supposed it was Jonathan and turned toward him.

“What is it?” he asked cautiously.

“Ahhmm, ahhhmm, ahhmm,” Jonathan thrashed around in his chair accidentally poking Eden with a saliva-covered finger, “Ahhhhhhhmmm!”

Eden felt a rush of air go by him that smelt like Miss. Logan.

“Okay, okay,” she said with a bit of strain in her voice, “Calm down Jonathan. Why don’t you continue your coloring? It’s looking great so far.” Half the colors on his picture were random scribbles. Miss. Logan replaced his bib. She returned to her seat after telling the class to quiet down.

“Want to go to ‘M’ now, Eden?” she asked. He painfully nodded yes.
_________

By around twelve o’clock the other children had gone through a few small assignments, sang a couple of songs, and Eden had felt through the whole alphabet, occasionally losing his concentration when Jonathan had a fit. Now it was time for a thirty minute recess which would be followed by lunch. Food was usually brought to the class by the lunch staff for children who didn’t have one. Since his mother was in a hurry that morning one of those children was Eden.

Because of the fact that the class was a special class, the children spent each day rotating between staying inside and taking supervised walks outside with Miss. Logan. Eden’s first day happened to be an inside day which threatened to increase his headache. He was tired of the class already.

“Miss. Logan,” he called.

She signed one last thing at the deaf children and went over to him.

“Yes, dear?”

“Could I go to the bathroom, please?” Eden asked.

“Of course you may…” Miss. Logan looked a little worried, “But I’ll walk you there. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

After telling the class she’d be back, Miss. Logan took Eden’s hand and they exited the room. She locked the classroom door to ensure that he students didn’t leave and walked Eden down to the bathroom. As he entered the restroom, Eden quickly breathed a sigh of relief but covered his nose swiftly. The smell of mold and urine was strong. Eden walked around the restroom, tapping his cane, and tried to find a way to recess without Miss. Logan, who was standing outside the door, knowing. At last, he taped a door on the opposite side of the restroom and felt out a handle. He put his ear to the door and heard children laughing and playing.

“Recess…!” he whispered as he opened the door suddenly feeling the warmth outside and smelling the grass. He walked slowly towards the voices getting closer and closer. Soon, he could feel the same kind of stares as he did when he first entered the school with his mother.

“Hey kid!” an older boy called, “Who are ya?”

“What’s the thing in yo hand?” another boy asked.

The all the kids laughed.

“He must be a retard,” a third boy said, “He’s juss starin’ around like one.”

“He cain’t see nuthin’!” a girl shouted, “My grandpa cain’t see nuthin’ and he’s got one a those to help ‘em.”

Eden felt a push.

“Why don’t we play hide and seek?” The first boy again, “You can use yo retard stick to fin’ us.”

“Dat’s cheatin’, we ain’t got no sticks!” a new voice of another boy. Eden could tell he was surrounded. He turned around anxiously and the same kid lunched at him taking his white cane.

“Give it back!” Eden yelled to no avail. The crowd was dispersing.

“Let’s go hide, e’erybody!” a kid called. Eden walked in circled, his hands in front of him but all he felt was air. Soon he began to tear up. His foot caught a rock and he fell into some mud, sobbing.

“Give it back…give it back…” he cried.

“Stop it right now you all!” a shrill voice yelled. Miss. Logan. She helped Eden up.

“Are you okay, honey? Never do this again!” Eden just cried, not responding to her. He was beginning to see just how different he was. Eden had been so miserable since coming to school that morning, not even recess was fun.

He thought his mother was a liar.

[Rove]

Wow that was quick! (As in awesome quick).

“Imcomingmommy,” Eden gurgled as he washed the toothpaste out of his mouth and put his toothbrush back in the cabinet. He walked out of the bathroom keeping his right hand on the wall. His hand brushed over familiar sites where the paint had peeled off over time. Soon he felt slightly grimy tile and put his hands in front of him until he touched a metal chair. He climbed in it turning his head toward the sweet buttery smell of the pancakes and grinned as he felt a brush of air as his mother came closer and when he heard the clack of a plate in front of him. Patricia sat at the table next to her son and proceeded to nibble on a piece of bacon.
I think you could cut that long sentence into several short ones, to avoid de excess of 'and's and the dragging of the whole event.

And if I'm not mistaken, you don't need to add the dot after Miss (Miss. Logan), it's not necessary. Correct me if I'm wrong, though.

Other than that, you're leaving me with too little things to correct! ; ) And not only that, but your story is certainly picking up. The attention to detail (both from the narrator and Eden's point of view) is incredible, there are plenty of things I would have never noticed if you hadn't described them, that help create the scene in the reader's mind.

Since Eden is blind, his other four senses are much more developed, and you pay a lot of attention to the sense of smell. Although the others have their spot too you could try including the sense of touch more often. For example, how Eden felt when Miss Logan grabbed his hand and made it touch the Braille alphabet. Was it warm or cold? He felt threatened or protected? Did he notice is she had rings or bony fingers perhaps? How were her nails? What does Miss Logan smell like? I know that you're using Eden's perspective in this matters, and if he sounds like an expert and overly detailed he will not seem like a six-year old. But you could pay attention to those details once he grows up and make his point of view event more detailed and especific. Try to make the reader feel blind for a moment (sounds stupid, the reader is reading after all...), but make it notice everything that sorrounds it, you know what I mean? I'm not saying that you should be over descriptive to the point that it becomes boring, the key is to balance description and action, just like you have been doing so far. Just try to keep those ideas in your mind for when the right time comes.

[JaQuais J.]

Kudos!I read it all and loved it. Hope you post some more.

[Nicotine]

Thanks, I'm glad your enjoying this. I work hard on it :D. And thanks a lot for your feedback Rove.

Anyway...next chapter. There are a few cuss words here and there...so I hope that's okay.

Chapter 2: Beginning to Crack

After finishing a simple dinner of homemade pizza, Patricia and her son sat at the table in silence. Eden was practicing his reading with a Braille card Miss Logan gave him and Patricia was sorting food stamps and coupons, often glancing at Eden intently. He hadn’t spoken to his mother since she picked him up from school. After Miss Logan told her of the recess incident and gave Eden’s mud-tainted white cane to Patricia she fiercely scolded her son. In the heat of her anger, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the car. Now she felt slightly guilty because of the silent treatment she was getting from Eden.

The city lights were the only thing that came through the window and the lights in the kitchen seemed more apparent. Patricia looked at the microwave clock. 9:38. She figured that Tristan should be the one to talk to Eden but it was already getting late and he wasn’t home. She clipped a peanut butter coupon and looked at Eden evenly. He heard the scissors snap and his mother’s long black hair rustle and faced where she sat.

“Sweetie,” she began, “You’re going to have to learn to like school. You have to do what Miss Logan says and follow the rules.” Eden resumed his reading, trying to ignore his mother. Patricia attempted to suppress her growing temper.

“Sweetie,” she repeated sharply, slamming the scissors on the table, “When you grow up, a lot of people are going to feel sorry for you because you’re blind. I’m not, I don’t care. You have to pay attention in school so you can have a good future. Miss Logan is trying to help you.” Eden was almost to the letter ‘Z’ on his paper. Patricia felt herself get up and crouch by Eden’s chair, banging the table.

“You will be good at school!” Eden jumped and faced his mother, “I’ll be checking in with Miss Logan every week. You better not pull another silly stunt like you did today, do you understand?” Eden’s expression showed that her words sank in.

“Yes Mommy…,” he replied with wide eyes. Patricia cooled down.

“Good,” she said, “Now, go to bed. School’s tomorrow.” Eden got up and shuffled out of the kitchen, he’s left hand on the wall. Patricia sighed and ran a hand through her hair then went to the sink to wash her face. As she toweled it off, she looked at the time again. 9:51. Tristan would be home soon.

People, of course, deal with stress in many different ways. Some eat, some sleep, some go out and cause trouble with other stressed out people, and some drink or smoke. Patricia learned to do both of the last two excessively, especially after Eden was born, when something stressful was happening. She grabbed a bottle of red wine out of the tiny kitchen pantry and reached for her Marlboro Lights on the cupboard. She took long drags from her cigarette and a swing of wine straight from the bottle. Patricia sat staring at the kitchen wall drawing imaginary pictures on it with her eyes, waiting. She thought she heard a gunshot from down the street but didn’t flinch. Those were normal.

At last, over thirty minutes later, Patricia, who was slightly drunk, heard the steps up to the apartment creaking, a click, and then the front door opening. Tristan, in his heavy work boots, made his way to the kitchen. Patricia looked up and he bent down and kissed her smoke-flavored lips.

“How are ya?” he said in a heavy, raw voice.

“I’m alive,” she replied as she took another drag, grinded her dead cigarette in the ashtray, and gave her husband a wry smile. As usual, his face was droopy and tired, his hair had bits of construction debris in it, and his hands were caked with dirt. Over the years, his formerly bright blue eyes that held the hint of a potential joke had faded. His eyes were now dry and told of daily strain. Tristan drowsily looked around the kitchen, placing his tin lunchbox on the cabinet.

“So, where’s Eden?” he asked, “He asleep already?” Patricia nodded and swung from her bottle.

“Where’s dinner?” Tristan inquired with his hand on his abdomen. Patricia lit another cigarette and jerked her head toward the oven.

“I made some pizza,” she yawned. Tristan made no move to get it.

“Pizza? Wow.” He shook his head in disbelief, “I would think since you don’t work you’d be able to make your husband something better than pizza. I work all day and I come home to a cold pizza.” Patricia said nothing and took a nervous drag from her cigarette. The stress from Tristan’s job often made him cranky. Most of the time he eventually calmed down but sometimes he would have to live the house for a walk or a drink.

Suddenly, Tristan grabbed the wine bottle from Patricia’s hand and took a swing from it. He then poured the rest of the bottle’s contents into a cup and mixed it with apple juice from the fridge.

“Pizza, pizza, pizza,” he drank the mixture all at once, “Where’s Eden?” Patricia calmly closed her eyes and continued to smoke.

“I told you Tristan,” she said, “He’s sleeping, he has school tomorrow.” Obviously, Tristan wasn’t paying any attention. Perhaps he was already drunk when he came in.

“So did he learn anything at that school of his?” Tristan slurred as he got another bottle from the pantry and made another mixed drink, “That Braille crap, right? He’s gonna walk around feeling shit. We should have let your mom have him. Or put him in a home.” Patricia released some smoke from her nose as she glared at Tristan. Eden’s education was one of her top priorities.

“You know he needs it,” she said strongly, “You should support him and take a break from feeling sorry for yourself. Just because you have a crappy job and you’re tired doesn’t mean we can’t make life good for Eden.”

A flicker went over went over Tristan’s eyes. He gave Patricia a look so mean and coarse that she almost sobered up immediately. Everything else went pretty fast.

Tristan slammed his glass on the cupboard, spilling half of its contents. He went over to the table and grabbed Patricia’s wrist, jerking it up forcing her to half-stand.

“How far?” Tristan questioned her, “How far is he gonna go?! It’s a waste of time! A waste!” Patricia felt saliva land on her face and the blood drain from her hand, “You could be working!” he continued, “Working! I’m tired of living in this place! I’m tired of working my butt off! And you’re so ungrateful. That damn pizza! If you’re not gonna help me make a living, you can at least cook me something decent to come home to!”

“T-Tristan…” Patricia whimpered. By this time, Eden had woken up and felt his way to the wall by the kitchen door.

“Shut the hell up!” Tristan answered, “Who has to pay for everything? Who buys the shit you want?! I do! I’m tired of trying so hard and not getting anywhere! Do you know how frustrating that feels?” He leaned in closer, “You should have gotten that abortion. Look at where we are! Now I have to support you’re ass and that worthless kid’s!”

“Tristan! Just stop, okay? You’re hurting me! Just-” Patricia felt a hard crash against her jaw and she fell hard on the linoleum floor. Eden was shocked at what he heard and tried not to make a sound. The punch woke Tristan up from his drunken anger.

“Tricia…shit! I, man…I’m sorry,” Tristan whispered as he knelt toward her. Patricia shook her head numbly. Her expression changed from one of complete stupor, to sadness, to confusion, and finally anger.

“Get out…,” she said in a husky voice, “Get out of this house. Get out!” Tristan looked at her, opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. He got up and silently walked out of the kitchen then the front door, not noticing Eden in the hallway at all. Patricia returned to a complete stupor mixed with heavy sadness as she started to cry.

Patricia had been so preoccupied with Tristan’s physical changes that she had not noticed his mental ones. Work had certainly driven him crazy. She had never thought that he would hit her. Blood trickled from her lip and a couple of her back teeth on the bottom right felt loose. She fingered the portion of her forehead which collided hard with the floor, knowing it would leave a bruise. Oddly enough, something in her heart wanted Tristan to come back.

Eden dragged his shaky legs back to bed. He didn’t much sleep that night.
__________

It felt like a month to Patricia but it was only a couple of weeks. So many things changed during that period of time. Patricia had to get a couple of stitches and two of her teeth pulled. By the time three days passed, a bad fall was her excuse and it seemed to work on everyone. She felt that she deserved the punch for some reason, and as a result she got a job at a small grocery store across from Eden’s school. It didn’t pay much, but it was something and it made picking Eden up easier.

Eden actually learned to mildly enjoy school. He had mastered every letter and number in Braille and was in the process of learning punctuation and reading words. Miss Logan said at the pace he was going that he would be typing the letters out soon. Surprisingly, Eden had begun to enjoy recess. He loved to sing Miss Logan’s silly songs and play with the other kids during the inside days. When the class would go outside, he sat by Jonathan’s wheelchair and politely listened to his incoherent moans. Though he was doing fine in school, Eden could never forget his parent’s fight. He was too scared to ask his mother why his father hadn’t come back yet.

To get her mind off of Tristan hitting her, when the second Saturday after the argument came, Patricia decided to pay her mother a visit and take Eden along. She chose to take the bus for a change which excided Eden. His mother held his right hand as he held his cane with the other. His knowledge of his surroundings had been improving. For every four of his steps he knew there would be a half inch sink in the cement and would tap each one. He knew that after about three minutes or one hundred and eighty Mississippi’s they would pass Mr. Reedman’s hotdog stand and Eden would face left and smile, greeting him. Sometimes, including that day, Mr. Reedman would give him a free hotdog with extra relish.

After just a few minutes the two reached the bus stop and luckily for them the bus was there in no time. Patricia carefully helped Eden climb on and they found a seat up front. She was somewhat ashamed that she didn’t visit her mother more often; she only lived about eight blocks away. Part of her knew why she didn’t go though. She didn’t want her mother to lecture her about how she lived or want any handouts from her either. That day she was only looking for the type of consolation only a mother could give. As the bus drew near their stop, Patricia gave Eden politeness instructions.

“When we get there, ask her how she’s doing, tell her she sounds pretty good, stuff like that. You know the drill.” The two stood seconds before the bus stopped and jolted forward a little. Eden’s white cane landed on a high open toed shoe. He looked up and smiled.

“Sorry Miss,” he said. The lady patted him on the head and told Patricia what a nice son she had. How long had he been blind? Since he was born? What a shame, and they were on their way.

Patricia’s mother lived in a convenient condo that was almost literally in front of the bus stop. She was already ringing her doorbell before the bus pulled away with new passengers. Abruptly, the door opened and Patricia’s mother greeted them lovingly.

“Hello you two! It’s been awhile, huh?” she gave her daughter a tight hug and her only grandson a kiss on the forehead.

“You sound great, Grandma,” Eden smiled. He loved his grandmother very much. He was only in the presence of his other grandparents twice. Once when he was three and much later on in their coffins after they died in a car accident. They never made an effort to see Eden. His lack of sight bothered them. Patricia’s mother on the other hand took his blindness as an excuse to spoil Eden rotten.

“Oh, stop it, dear,” she smiled, “Come on in you guys.”

They walked into the simple house. It had two decently sized bedrooms, a simple kitchen, and a warm little living room. All of the walls were painted cream and so were the tiles in the bathroom and kitchen. The rest of the rooms had hardwood floors. Maria’s home was always spotless. She was almost fifty-two years old so she still had more then enough energy to keep her house up. Surprisingly, she hadn’t a grey hair and her head was filled with long straight, thick, black hair like her daughter’s. Maria led them straight to the kitchen and sat them down.

“You guys came here just in time,” Maria beamed, “I’ve just made pecan pie and some tea,” she began to pour herself and her daughter Orange Pekoe, “But I know you don’t want any tea, right Eden? That’s adult stuff. I’ll get you a glass of chocolate milk,” Eden smiled toward her voice. Maria began to cut the pie, “So, Tricia-dear, tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, nothing,” Patricia lied, “I was just around this area, thought I’d do some shopping but I decided to come hang out here.” Maria came to the table with the refreshments. Eden drank half of his milk, wiping his mustache off. Maria sipped her tea and looked at her daughter intently. Patria looked away anxiously, hoping her mother wouldn’t ask about her wounded face.

“That so, Tricia?” she asked, obviously catching her daughter’s lie, “Eden, dear, why don’t you go find the cat and play with her? Or you can listen to the radio in my room. Take your pie with you but don’t make a mess.” Eden nodded and went off. He knew his grandmother’s house pretty well, but finding her fat Tabby cat would be a challenge. Sometimes Eden loved challenges. He began searching under the living room couch.

“Such a good boy,” Maria said more to herself. Patricia nodded in agreement, “Anyway, Tricia. What happened? To your face, I mean?” Patricia looked at her untouched pie.

“I fell,” she lied again, “Was a bad fall. I was cleaning the floor and I forgot to wipe up a wet spot, so I tripped on it and fell. Busted my lip, it was pretty bad. I needed stitches.” Patricia gulped half of her tea and winced at its heat. Maria stared at her daughter. Why’s she lying? she thought. Maria was afraid to say it because she didn’t want to believe it. She knew she had to bring it up though.

“I know you and Tristan haven’t been really happy lately. I know you two have been fighting,” Maria informed her daughter. Patricia reached in her jean pocket for a cigarette and lit it. Her mother took it away from her.

“I don’t know when you picked this up,” she said, “But with Eden in the house it’s not good.” Patricia rolled her eyes began to cut up her pie, nervously.

“Like I said, you two have been fighting. Just tell me Tricia-honey, did he hit you? Be-”

“Tristan would never hit me!” Patricia shouted defensively, “He doesn’t beat me, you know that. I love him, so don’t tell me that crap is happening!” Maria knew that what she thought was true. She remembered how sweet and happy her daughter was years ago and couldn’t believed that her sparkle had deteriorated.

“Tricia, if you need to you and Eden can stay with me,” she persuaded, “Tricia…look at yourself! I can’t believe Tristan did this to you…” Patricia felt tears brimming on the sides of her eyes and let them spill. She didn’t want to believe what was happening but she wanted her mother’s advice. The hard part was to ask for it and accept it. She wiped her eyes.

“He didn’t mean to,” she quivered, “It was an accident. He was tired and starving. And I didn’t cook much of anything for him. I hardly do anything…I finally got a job. He’ll stop…I’m working again.” Maria hated how she blamed herself.

“Your father and I divorced because of something like this,” she said quietly, “After the first time he hit me he did it again and again. Tricia, it only takes one time. If he does it once, he’ll do it again.” Patricia shook her head.

“Don’t,” Patricia cried, “Don’t say that to me.” Maria held her daughter’s hand and got it flicked away instantly. Patricia felt anger seeping through her tears.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” She said sharply, “Come here and waste my time.” She got up and found Eden in her mother’s room. She took his hand and dragged him out of the house. As they left Eden heard his grandmother crying and remembered the night a two weeks before again. It would be awhile until Eden had the emotional strength to smile again.

When the two got home they heard a cough from the kitchen. Tristan sat there nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. Patricia let go of Eden’s hand and felt herself embracing him.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, “So sorry.” Tristan silently returned her embrace. Patricia was glad she didn’t listen to her mother. Eden was scared of what would happen next.
__________

A week passed, and then another and another until it had been a month since the punch incident. Patricia enjoyed her work at the grocery store, though she took longer hours and her back hurt from all the standing. She began to look haggard like her husband. Tristan tried to be a better husband. He couldn’t believe that he would ever hit Patricia and that he would do it on purpose, to hurt her. He felt bad when ever he looked at the scar by her lip. The two did fight once in awhile since it happened and what scared Tristan the most is that he had to hold himself back from hitting her again. The two also tried to spend more time with Eden, taking him to the park and reading to him before bedtime. Tristan didn’t have much patience with Eden so sometimes he chose to simply ignore him.

Eden was affected the most by his parent’s problems. He continued to do well at school, mastering all the basics and beginning to read short Braille books but there was a darkness about him. He always walked with his head hung and a frown on his face. He never wanted to sing with the class anymore and he began to find Jonathan annoying. He dreaded coming home, especially when his father returned in the evening and a fight happened. Miss Logan was the first to pick up on this.

When the class was having inside recess, she noticed Eden sitting sadly by himself. She crouched next to him and patted him politely on the head.

“Do you not have anyone to play with, Eden?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to sit with Johnny?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want a snack?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to sing a song?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to read a book?”

He shook his head. Miss Logan was thoroughly frustrated and concerned. Later that day she saw Eden smack Jonathan in the middle of one of his moans. She told Patricia about it when she came to pick him up.

“Mrs. Schneider…” she began cautiously, “Eden’s been acting up a lot. Please, if he’s not getting enough rest or something see to it that he does. I wouldn’t want him kicked out of my class.” Patricia took Miss Logan’s suggestion with a smile that was soon erased immediately after they left the school. For the first time in Eden’s life he was punished physically by his mother. He never knew a belt or his mother’s once soothing voice could be so painful. He would experience it many times again.

“I’ve warned you before, Eden!” she slapped his raw bottom, “Never do something like this again!” He cried silently at first then stopped all together. He learned to absorb the pain he felt.

[Rove]

The city lights were the only thing that came through the window and the lights in the kitchen seemed more apparent.
I'm not sure what you are trying to say with this sentence. That the city lights were brighter than the kitchen lights? That only the city lights entered the kitchen despite the kitchen lights being on? Perhaps what confuses me is the use of the word 'apparent', I just don't see it fit the context of the sentence. If the city lights were the only things that came through the window why are the kitchen lights more apparent/clearer/more obvious?

“T-Tristan…” Patricia whimpered. By this time, Eden had woken up and felt his was to the wall by the kitchen door.
I'm not sure, but I think you meant to write 'way' instead of 'was'. Even replacing was with way doesn't make much sense either, could you explain the situation better?

By the time three days passed, a bad fall was her excuse and it worked on most everyone.
Again, not quite sure but I think 'most' should be 'almost'.

She was somewhat ashamed that she didn’t visit her mother very often; she only lived about eight blocks away.
Taking the context of the sentence, 'more' would be more appropiate than 'very'.

He only saw his other grandparents twice in his life.
I'm not sure if the 'saw' was on purpose or if it just slipped naturally, but considering Eden's condition it seems more like a cruel comment from the narrator's point of view. However, I don't see how you could change it without changing the whole sentence, so don't pay much attention to this nit-pick.

“You guys came here just in time,” Maria beamed, “I’ve just made some pecan pie and some tea,” she began to pour herself and her daughter some, “But I know you don’t want any tea, right Eden? That’s adult stuff. I’ll get you a glass of chocolate milk,” Eden smiled toward her voice. Maria began to cut the pie, “So, Tricia-dear, tell me what’s going on.”
Noticed the repetition of 'some'? Perhaps you could delete the second and third 'somes' altogether, they don't change the sentence all that much. Or remove the second one and replace the third one with something like this: "she began to pour herself and her daughter some" to "she poured the hot tea in two cups and said, "[then you add Maria's rhetorical question about Eden not drinking tea, etc].

“Tristan would never hit me!” Patricia shouted defensively, “He doesn’t beat me, you know that. I love him, so don’t tell me that crap is happening!” Maria knew that what she thought was true. Instantly it made her sad.
The last sentence screams for more development, or better wording. Perhaps saying something like "Instantly she felt a weight on her back" or something more expressive than just "it made her sad". The same can be said about this sentence:
A wave of depression went down Eden’s spine.
It seems like the feeling of sadness could be expressed so much better than this. Again, this is my opinion, so feel free to disagree.

The story is making quite a twist from the beginning 'optimistic in spite of adversity', hopefully the whole story will not be as gloomy as some of the fragments in this chapter. I must comment on your ability to make humane characters, none of them are perfect nor completely evil, they have facets that make the reader relate to them yet they have glaring flaws of their own, where the reader can distance itself and ask how things will turn out.

How I love to nit-pick, don't I? >_>;

[Nicotine]

The story is making quite a twist from the beginning 'optimistic in spite of adversity', hopefully the whole story will not be as gloomy as some of the fragments in this chapter. I must comment on your ability to make humane characters, none of them are perfect nor completely evil, they have facets that make the reader relate to them yet they have glaring flaws of their own, where the reader can distance itself and ask how things will turn out.

How I love to nit-pick, don't I? >_>;

I haven't read through your suggestions yet but but I just wanted to say to expect more twists later. No...nobodys going to go on a killing spree or suicide or anything incredibly gloomy like that. I just wanted to show how things are with the family and this is going to explain why Eden does what he does later.

But really, feel free to nitpick. I don't mind! ^^;

EDIT: I fixed everything you talked about and replaced my post with chapter 2 on it with the new version. I just don't see these things when I write. *hires Rove as her personal editor* XD

[lilly1992]

very cool. i think you need to use a little more creative words so that we can see a more clear picture in our minds.

[JaQuais J.]

I did'nt imagine Tristan would become such an *******. Loved it, please post more when you've got it.

[Nicotine]

I think writing this and reading the book East of Eden has had an effect on me XD. That may be why the last chapter was a little dramatic.

Anyways...expect chapter 3 soon~

[NausicaaBoy]

Tis good! Im really enjoying it...post more soon?

[Nicotine]

Thank you. I'm finding it hard to find time to write these days but I'll try to have the next part by next weekend.

[Nicotine]

I know it took awhile...I've been so busy @_@! Hopefully it's pretty good. A little shorter then usual, but I mainly wanted to use this to introduce the new charaters. Hopefully there aren't many mistakes...I'm tired! XD

Chapter 3: Adeline Escobar

As she woke up Adeline quickly glanced away from the sunlight that blasted through the window by her seat. She squinted around the bus with her violet-blue eyes vaguely noticing that most of the passengers were still asleep. An older woman stared at the girl with intense curiosity then looked away quickly when Adeline met her gaze. Adeline new exactly why she was being stared at, and it wasn’t because she was a ten-year-old traveling alone. Someone from the orphanage she had lived in directed her to her seat and she hadn’t gotten up since. She slipped her hands back into her black jacket as she felt the sun harshly warming her transparent skin. When she finally noticed her window had a curtain she pulled it closed and quickly looked down at her sneaker-clad feet. Adeline futilely wished the bus would never reach Los Angeles.

Adeline thought about the major events leading up to her boarding the bus. The farthest back she could remember was the second foster home she was in at four years old in Fresno. She remembered being spoiled by her parents who had trouble having children on their own and were two of the few people who ignored her strange appearance. Her foster mother would brush her straw-like shoulder length hair several times a day. The happiness continued until the couple surprisingly had a daughter of their own. Adeline changed from their little girl to a big nuisance and ended up returning to foster care.

The fourth home she was taken to when she was around seven ended the same way, except she left with bruises that contrasted harshly with her pale skin. At her next home when she was around eight, she starved for days at a time. It was believed that her lowest weight was around thirty-five pounds. Months later, she was abused again at her sixth home. The couple, who were devout Christians, could have sworn she was a little white-haired devil that misplaced their Holy Bible and beat the sins out of her daily.

In reality, she was born to a wealthy 17-year-old girl in Palo Alto named Rachel Owen (her name was kept from the public, of course) who was raped by a man of Mexican decent. The local sheriff swore he would find him, but never did. No one knew who Adeline’s strange Albino-inducing genetic material came from, but it was all the more reason for her young mother to give her up to the government the day she was born. She had all the resources to care for her daughter; she was just a strange embarrassing abomination.

Adeline pecked through the curtain and squinted at the setting sun. She saw that the bus was approaching the bus station. Soon she would get her ninth couple of apathetic adults who ignored her for the most part and blamed her for everything, or so she thought. Before she knew it, she was standing on the platform and waiting by a newsstand with a lady from the bus station for her new parents.

______________

Like the Schneiders, the Escobars started young and in love and also married very quickly but they were older then the Schneiders and happier with their situation. They also lived on the poor side of L.A., at least Luis Escobar did all his life. He even made his living as a carpenter like Tristan Schneider did, but he loved his job and poured his heart into it. His wife Margie, formerly Margie Ulmer, came from a very respectable family. She was blond, blue-eyed, and completely stunning to say the least. It seemed as if she knew how to carry herself in a high-class manner since birth and every word she spoke was said with perfect diction. Her father was an attorney and her mother a dentist. Of course, they were upset when they knew their daughter wanted to marry a man like Luis who never even finished high school, but Margie was determined to do so and they eloped when she was eighteen he had just turned twenty-three. When the Ulmers found out, Margie was completely cut out of the family.

Like the Schneiders did, they wanted to begin a family immediately, but after four years of trying to they learned due to complications after complications that Margie was unable to have children. Because of the disappointment, it took the couple three years to realize that they should simply adopt. After a couple of years of struggling for enough strength financially to have a new family member, they were able to adopt. They didn’t have enough money to travel up to Oakland where their daughter would be coming from, but they were sent a single photo with her basic information and were sold instantly. Luis was simply happy they were finally getting a child and Margie was insanely curious about the far-away look in the girl’s eyes. It wasn’t because of their Albino colorlessness, but the sadness that Margie was eager to heal. She had waited so long to be a mother.
______________

The Escobars looked around the bus station excitedly. They were looking for a pale girl, shoulder-length white hair, with blue or red eyes who sweet little mouth. The two had put on the Sunday best for the big occasion. Luis wore the only suit he had comprised of a simple blue jacket and slacks, a white shirt, and a black tie which looked odd on his built, rugged frame. He even went out of his way to iron it three times. Margie had on a fine silk blouse and a tailored skirt. She had used some of their food money to get her heals professionally shined. The last thing they wanted was to have the girl thing badly of them.

At last, after the couple circled the station twice, they found an employee holding the hand of a pale little girl. She wore plain white sneakers, a simple pink skirt, and an oversized black jacket which made her stand out. The Escobars wondered if their excitement made them overlook her. They hurried over to the girl and the staff member smiled.

“’Bout time,” the lady said as she politely pushed Adeline forward, “They asked me to check your IDs and paperwork,” she hardly looked at them. The couple seemed respectable, “She’s all yours then. She’s a quiet one, you know.” The lady let of Adeline’s hand and melded into the crowd.

Luis maintained a smile he couldn’t shake off and Margie bent down to the girl’s level.

“Um, nice to meet you. Adeline, right? I’ve been so excited I’ve forgotten,” the girl nodded, “Well Adeline, my name is Margie. I hope you’ll let me be your new mother. We don’t have much, but I’ll make sure we have fun.” Luis bent down too.

“And I’m Luis. Just call me Papa, okay?” he said in his thick Spanish accent as his brown eyes gleamed, “I’m sure you’ll get used to us in no time,” he laughed, “We aren’t that complicated.”

Margie took Adeline’s left hand and Luis her right as he held her single bag in his left and they walked together out of the station. For the first time in years, Adeline’s light pink lips formed a smile.

For weeks Margie had worked extra hard to turn their breakfast area into a proper room for Adeline. She had Luis build two more walls for it and installed a door. He also made a homemade bed frame for her. Margie then pinched penny after penny for a new mattress with a pink comforter and second hand toys she found at garage sales. The Escobars made perfect timing and finished the renovation to their little apartment two days before they picked Adeline up. The girl was welcomed by the smell of fresh paint and woodchips, but she knew she was in a safe place.

Margie quickly dished out leftovers from the day before and made them look as good as they were on the dinning table, which now sat in the middle of their small kitchen. She then opened a bottle of wine for herself and Luis and gave Adeline a wine glass of grape juice.

“Here’s to our daughter’s health,” Luis boomed and winked at Adeline. Margie beamed.

“And to her happiness,” she added. They dug into the leftovers soon afterward. After dinner, Luis went to the living room to have the TV lull him to sleep and Margie gave Adeline the last slice of chocolate cake from the fridge.

“Thank you,” the squinting little girl said as she nibbled the simple desert savoring ever bite. She twirled a white lock of hair in her fingers, “I’ve never had…this.” Margie turned in shock.

“No one ever gave you cake before? That’s strange…” Margie looked at Adeline, then the cake and continued to wash the dishes from dinner.

“I think I’ve had cake…when I was real little, though,” she took another bite. “Mr. and Mrs. Pastor Aaron said sweets are bad. I lived with them awhile in Sacramento. They said sweets make kids rotten. God doesn’t like that.” The cake tasted bitter to her now.

Margie turned to look at the girl again, absentmindedly letting the dishwater drip from her hands to the floor. The house seemed suddenly very quiet, except from Luis snoring in the other room. She remembered the sadness she saw in Adeline’s eyes from the picture they received of her. Margie wiped her hands on her apron and sat down with the girl.

“Well Addie…sweets aren’t bad, unless you eat too much. These people…they didn’t do anything bad, right?” Adeline shook her head ‘no’. She didn’t eat anymore after she swallowed what she had. Margie held her gaze at Adeline as the girl finally broke down. With tear-glazed eyes she shook her head ‘yes’.

“They hi-” Margie put her hand up in interruption and stifled a cry.

“It’s okay Sweetie,” she said, “It’ll be different here. I promise.”

Margie walked Adeline across the living room quietly as to not interrupt Luis and tucked the girl in her new bed. She quickly realized that parenting would be much harder then she thought. Soon Adeline closed her eyes and tried to rest. It had been a long day for her.

“It’ll be okay here…I promise.” Margie repeated. Adeline opened her eyes slightly, seeing the blurry sight that was her new mother. Or was she an angel?

“Okay Mommy.” It was the first time she said that.

______________

It took four long weeks for Adeline to get properly situated in her new home. First, the couple got her name changed to Adeline Escobar. The girl finally felt like she was properly apart of a family, though she had been with over ten. Second, Margie and Luis took her to the doctor for a general check up when Luis was able to get at least half a day off. They found out that she was in danger of skin cancer and receive prescription skin medication. Also, they discovered the meaning behind her intense squinting. She was legally blind and was referred to an optometrist who gave her a strong eyeglass prescription but suggested her learning Braille to insure her independence. The Escobars were surprised to know that there was a school that could teach it to her in their broken-down neighborhood.

The first time Adeline entered Miss Logan’s classroom she thought she was still living a dream. She had the perfect parents and was getting the perfect teacher who could make an old dinking classroom into one of the best places on earth. Miss Logan sat Adeline at her table with two boys, one in a wheelchair who played with his bib and another sat quietly, touching a piece of paper timidly and occasionally running a hand through his dark brown hair. She sat closest to Eden and watched him barely seeing what he was doing. He sped through a book full of dots as he looked straight ahead. After three years reading Braille, Eden was practically an expert. Miss Logan was more and more impressed with him everyday.

After a page of reading, Eden turned to face the person he felt sitting behind him. He realized minutes before that it wasn’t Jonathan. The person smelt sweet and he heard them speak with Miss Logan close by so he knew it was a girl. Eden listened to the whistle of her breath exiting her thin nose and the warmth emanating from her body. Adeline looked at Eden, not at his face which she could barely see, but his heart. She then squinted at the look on his face and his eyes which she knew could see her at all and remembered all the beatings she got and the emotional torture she received. She knew the boy was going through something similar.

“I’m Adeline,” she said to him. No reply, just the same frowning face, “I’m ten but in November I’ll be eleven.”

“Eden. Nine,” he answered hastily as he turned back to his book, “Now lemme alone.”

[Nicotine]

Can I shamelessly bump this up? XD