The Boy In The Alleyway

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young lady of age eighteen lives in Europe where if you talked against the church, you were killed. Follow part of her life and what it's like to only know so little about someone only to see them move on from the world they knew.

(Part One)

Submitted: November 10, 2018

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Submitted: November 10, 2018

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My name is Vivi, short for Vivian. Seventeen years, and an oddball. They said when I was seventeen I could leave the orphanage. However, it’s been a year, I’m now eighteen and they still refuse to let me leave that horrific place I’m forced to call home. Kicking the metal waste bin to my left - it fell over the clasped-shut lid popped off.

 

Something was staring at me.

 

“H-Hello?...” I’d stutter pulling my coat closer to myself. I heard soft breathing down the alleyway as something moved. I jumped as a hand came into the light of the lamp post. “D-Do.. do you have any food... Please?” the voice was weak, it sounded sad and lonely.

 

I know I shouldn’t give food to this person, being it against the law however, I can’t let them starve. “I do…” I replied to him, my voice hushed?taking out a slice of bread from my bag handing it to him. “T... Thank you…” they said taking the slice and backing away into the alleyway.

 

I walked off?back to the orphanage.

 

Several months this continued. Soon I began to walk into the alleyway and stay to talk with the person. Today it was raining.

 

“Hey, how are you?” they asked as I walked into the alleyway, walking over to them. I would sit down beside him sharing my umbrella. “I’m alright, how are you?” he nodded simply, his coat was soaked and his shirt was beginning to rip. I handed him the umbrella, “Vivian, I have to tell you some?” he was cut off by the sounds a screaming.

 

He closed the umbrella pulling me close behind the wooden crates he made his home behind. We couldn’t hear what was happening beside muffled shrieks and the sounds of fighting. I began leaning my head against his shoulder, “Aren’t you ever afraid of being found?..” I asked looking at a puddle of water. I could tell he was looking down at me as he spoke, “It’s a chance I’ll take... I refuse to go back to a life where others are forced to serve me.”


 

“This is a chance I can learn to love someone who isn’t forced on me by parents.” footsteps neared, I tensed, he placed his hand over my mouth to muffle my harsh breaths. “There he is!!” a loud voice shook the silence. He got up letting me go, kicking the person?the officer into the wall. “Vivian run!!” he shouted to me. Getting up I ran as quick as I could out of the alleyway, towards the orphanage.

 

I heard shouting and fighting. Most importantly... I heard his voice telling me not to look back.

 

I wish I did.

 

December 1st,

 

I’m leaving for France today, I haven’t heard or seen anything from the boy I do hope he’s alright…

 

December 20th,

 

Times really flown by, my studies have taken up most of my time here with my mentor. Tonight there’s a banquet in my honor?for my success. My mentor says it would be good for me to go, to possibly meet someone who could fulfill my needs since it is frowned upon to be a successful woman. I couldn’t care though.

 

I’ve also received letters that I need to read. Supposedly someone’s being hung for being a disgrace to the crown and to the church, I wonder what the person had done. I’ll finish reading them later though.

 

December 23rd,

 

On my way home I today I continued reading letters I had been sent, one, however, caught my attention. It had no signature nor an address. It read;



 

Dear Vivian,

 

I hope this letter gets to you in fair time and that you’ll be able to read such terrible writing. I’ve been allowed to write one letter to someone and I’ve chosen you over my family. I’ve heard about your trip to France and I hope it’s going well. I hope you’ll return soon. I’m with the church and this world till December 23rd and I don’t know what they’ll do with me. I fear that they’ll take mercy on my soul because of my parents but I don’t want their pity.

 

If you’re still in France by the 23rd I hope you’ll forgive me.

 

I hope that you’ll continue on with your dreams, continue your studies, I promise someday you’ll get all the things you wanted?the things I had thrown away because they weren’t right. If there is one thing I ask you, please do not fall down the rabbit hole I had. Cherish what you have.

 

Folding up the letter I  placed it in my coat’s pocket. As the carriage slowed to a stop at the front of the courtyard my eyes widened. Opening the door I slid out walking quickly towards the crowd?my arm was grabbed stopping me. My mentor held a firm grip as the bishop spoke; “Any last words thief?”

 

The boy spoke, “Yes.. I hope that the one who was kind and helped me knows that I’m sorry. I thank you for giving me a reason to fight the words people told me, to stand up to what’s right…”

 

The bishop laughed, “Hang him.”  the masked man standing up on the gallows nodded pulling a lever. The boy dropped, dying before me.

 

I gasped, tears filling my eyes. My mentor pulled me close leading me quickly back to the carriage helping me inside. After he got in the carriage?closing the door, he sat next to me. Holding me closely as I wept. Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd focused on the boy as the carriage began moving. Continuing to its destination.

 


© Copyright 2019 Wolfie-Chan. All rights reserved.

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