Scripted- Another Excerpt from the Past

I adore this story. I have no idea if it's any good. But I love it.

It's the only time I have written in 1st person from of boy's perspective. At least, written anything worth noting. A few sentences here and there don't really count.

But, this is David's story. Scripted. About the boy who lives in a small town and how his life got turned upside down.

I got the idea when I was reading a book (I don't even remember which one now...). I thought I knew where the story was going and what the plot twist was going to be at the end. But, that wasn't what happened in the story and I was like "Yeah, I'm going to take that and write it." So, David and Violet were born.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The Thursday Something Happened

Nothing ever happened in the little no-account town where I grew up.

Especially on Thursdays.

Thursdays were the slowest, most boring days of the entire week. And, it’s not just that nothing good ever happened; nothing bad ever happened either. Thursdays were the days when there were no school holidays and no math tests; no surprise snowfalls to play in and no heavy rainstorms to damage your crops; no getting word that Uncle Harry died and left you a thousand dollars and no getting word that Uncle Harry died and didn’t leave you anything at all.

No, nothing ever happened in Lovejoy. Not on a Thursday. And, if anything ever did happen in Lovejoy on a Thursday, it wouldn’t be a girl with strange tattoos falling out of a tree. It wouldn’t be a mysterious woman coming and asking all sorts of nosy questions. And, it certainly wouldn’t be anything that would change my life. No, nothing like that could ever happen in Lovejoy. Not on a Thursday.

At least, that’s what I thought, until that Thursday in May when the girl with the strange tattoos fell right out of the tree, landing smack-dab on the ground directly in front of me. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was walking home from school that day- because, being a Thursday, it wasn’t a holiday. I was muttering to myself, muttering about how boring school was, about all the homework I had to do when I got home, and most of all, about how nothing- and I mean nothing- ever happened in my life.

I took the shortcut through Mr. MacTolliver’s orchard. It cut four miles off my walk going that way, rather than by the road and Mr. MacTolliver had told me before that he didn’t mind. I walked through the rows of apple trees, all blossomed and smelly, the fallen petals crunched under my feet. I continued muttering.

“Boring old town. Boring old people. Boring old school. Boring old Thursdays. Boring old homework. Boring old life. Boring old-”

That’s when it happened. Right there in the middle of my muttering, a girl fell right out of an apple tree, landing on the ground in front of me. A few inches more and she’d have been on top of me.

My first instinct was to stare at her. I mean, it wasn’t every day a girl fell at my feet. Especially on a Thursday. Needless to say, I was in shock.

“Are-are you all right,” I managed to stammer after a minute.

Nothing.

There didn’t appear to be any blood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt. Besides, she wasn’t moving. For all I knew, she could be dead.

I sort of knelt beside her a little and gave her a small shake. “Are you okay?”

She groaned and stirred.

Well, at least she wasn’t dead.

She rolled over a little and I got a look at her face. I drew back in surprise, gasping.

I’d seen tattoos in my life, but never any like this. Her entire face was covered in a strange script, almost as if there were words and sentences written on her face, only I couldn’t actually read what it said.

That really weirded me out. As I tried to shake the feeling, I glanced around me, wanting something else to focus on until my mind cleared. Then it hit me that she couldn’t have actually fallen from the tree. There was no way she could have been in the tree; it was too puny for that. I glanced around for a ladder or something of that sort that she could have fallen from but saw nothing.

She groaned again. I turned my attention back to her. Her eyes fluttered open and she stirred a little.

“Where…?”

“You’re in Mr. MacTolliver’s orchard,” I replied. “You fell from… uh… somewhere…”

She sat up quickly and glanced around, fear in her wide green eyes. Her breathing came in small panting breaths. “How long have I been here?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “Just a minute or two. Are you feeling okay?”

She pushed herself up, wobbling a little as she did so. Once on her feet, she leaned against the tree to steady herself.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked.

She snorted. Her hand moved to her forehead, like my sister’s did when she had a headache. She looked a little pale under all her tattoos.

“I’d like to help you if I can,” I told her. I really should have been getting home to my homework, but this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and it wasn’t likely to happen again anytime soon.

She looked at me in surprise, as if seeing me for the first time, fear written in her eyes.

 “Are you related to Mr. MacTolliver?” I pressed. I’d never heard of him having any family besides his son, but it seemed a reasonable explanation as to why she was in his orchard.

“Um… uh… um… Wh-what’s the name of this place?”

I figured she couldn’t mean Mr. MacTolliver’s orchard, since I’d said that a few times now. “Lovejoy,” I told her. “You’re in Lovejoy.”

She repeated the name to herself. “I-is there a woman by the name of Camilla Deveraux around here?”

I shook my head. “No, not that I know of.” And, since the town was so small, I knew of everyone in it.

“Are you sure?” Her green eyes narrowed, and she glared at me.

“Positive.”

She breathed a relieved sigh. “Well, that’s something.” She pushed away from the tree until she was standing by herself. “Well, thanks for the help.”

“Sure,” I said. “So, where’d you fall from?”

“The tree,” she replied.

“The tree’s too little, you’ve have damaged it,” I said.

She gave me a shaky smile. “Are you calling me fat?”

My eyes widened. “No!”

“I was just teasing,” she said. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Oh… so… um… who are you?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she asked. “Something better to do than ask a lot of pesky questions?”

I shrugged. “I was going home but if you need help, I can stay and help you.”

“I’m fine,” she told me. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need any help.” Her eyes darted all around her, taking in every little thing.

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” I shrugged again. “So, who are you? What are you doing here in Mr. MacTolliver’s orchard?”

She shrugged. “Just cutting through.”

“In the trees?”

“Boy, you’re nosy,” she said.

I shrugged once more. “Just curious. You’re the most exciting thing that’s happened around here. So, do you have a name?”

“Sure I do,” she snapped. “Everyone has a name.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

She shook her head. “I don’t give my name out to strangers. Now, weren’t you going home?”

“Yeah.” I turned to go and then turned back to her. “I’m David, by the way. I live in the green house just south of here, it’s the one with the sign out front for the Pillow Puffs. If you decide you do need help, that’s where you can find me most days.”

I turned again and started to walk away.

“David!”

I turned back to her again. “Yeah?”

“You won’t tell anyone you saw me, will you?” Her huge green eyes pleaded with me.

I shrugged. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

She offered me another shaky smile. “Thanks.”

And there you have it! There'll be a short little snippet of another story I adore on Friday. Hope you'll be back!