She Feels its Pain

She Feels its Pain

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Summary

Jacqueline Rabbit is a small mysterious girl, she is beautiful, and strong, but why does she have a soft spot for trees? This is the story of a young girl, who's life changed, she meets a boy that she goes to high school with. His name is Brian Thumb. Brian finds out her secret and threatens to tell everyone. Though he is just joking, Jacqueline makes sure to keep a very close eye on him. They end up falling in love, but with everyone cutting down trees, will she survive?
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Summary

Jacqueline Rabbit is a small mysterious girl, she is beautiful, and strong, but why does she have a soft spot for trees? This is the story of a young girl, who's life changed, she meets a boy that she goes to high school with. His name is Brian Thumb. Brian finds out her secret and threatens to tell everyone. Though he is just joking, Jacqueline makes sure to keep a very close eye on him. They end up falling in love, but with everyone cutting down trees, will she survive?

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Beginning

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 03, 2017

Reads: 50

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 03, 2017

A A A

A A A

I lay upon a tree branch, resting my head on it’s mossy, strong arms. My eyes are closed and sunlight shines through my eyelids being filtered by the bright green leaves providing shade. I love everything about the forest, the smell of the damp fresh air, the sound of birds and a small stream of water flowing over pebbles and rocks, the rough but gentle feeling of bark rubbing on my pale skin, and the misty air rushing across my cheeks, a rustle in a nearby bush caught my attention, making it’s small white flowers dance with it’s movement. “Wake up!” a voice called as I shook my head awake. I was dreaming.
I had wished I was still in the forest, with it’s silent trees swaying in the refreshing breeze. “Wake up, you!” it was my dad. He was drunk again. I looked out the small window above my bed and out I saw a lifeless city. Full of lifeless people, and lifeless plants. “You’re such an idiot Adeline! Always happy about the silliest things! Like... Ice cream!” my dad yelled in an awkward voice.
I slapped my forehead and pulled my dirty blonde hair behind my ears. My dad had a sudden look of fury on his face. He swept his hand across the old shelf that barley held onto the rusty nails holding it into the wall. Sitting on that shelf was a snow globe, a childish thing, really, but it meant a lot to me. The bottom was pink and inside was a little forest, with trees spelling out, “Family”. Instead of snow it was little green dots, probably symbolizing leaves, but what was inside of the snow globe didn’t hold much value to me. It was who it was given by that I cared most about. A tag held hopelessly to the peeling paint on the bottom of the snow globe, on the tag it said, “Love, mom, who loves you more than anything.”
She had died when I was 7 years old. She was always there for me, Dad wouldn’t drink and the house was in much better shape than it is now. Now I do all the housework, but even with a woman in the house, we still need a friendly father to fix broken things for us. Unfortunately I wasn’t close to having one.
My dad glared at me with a disgusted look on his face. “Who’s this from? Your mom?” he spat. I show a sudden look of worry on my face and lead his hand away from my treasure.”Who do you think you are?” he slapped me hard on my right cheek, the bruise from another time he had hit me stung and I felt a new one starting to form. I felt like crying, but what was the point in that. He’s drunk and would show no sympathy for me no matter what I do. So I stayed still, my head still slightly leaning towards the direction in which I was hit. I kept my eyes closed and clenched my teeth together.
Then, I smiled. “I know Dad, but we have to go get some nice, warm breakfast.” he jolted his hand away from my sturdy grip. Then, went back to the old shelf. He swiped his hand across the shelf making the snow globe tumble and break. I rushed to my beloved treasure, cupping the glass with my hands, squeezing it tight. I felt warmth. I was holding the glass shards so tight my hands were bleeding endlessly surrounding me in a pool of blood. I tried holding back the tears, but I couldn’t warm streams of water rushed down my cheeks. “You baby!” my dad yelled. I clenched the sharp glass tighter making the cuts deeper. I bring my knees up to my chin and lay on my side curled up on the floor, “pathetic if you ask me” repeated in my brain. The small pool of blood I had made was staining my clothes, making there deep red splotches where I lay. The tips of my light hair began to soak up the blood as well, making the tips wet and dripping with blood. “pathetic!” scolded my mind. At that moment I jolted up, still clutching my bleeding hands to my chest. I dropped the glass and ran straight to the bathroom. I turned on the sink and impatiently held my hands underneath the focet. Brown, thick water came spraying out, entering my cut and making it sting. I waited. semi-clean water sprayed from the focet onto my cut hands, soothing each wound. I hung my head low, letting my hair act as a veil to hide my shameful weakness. I clenched my teeth together. And cried.


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