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Array
(
[sid] => 104159
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Story Part III
[time] => 2005-08-22 15:04:14
[hometext] => Please comment... you'll have to read parts I and II for it to make sense
[bodytext] => Chapter 1 Continued.... It was close to 12:30 when Ana and Chris finished eating. Chris pushed his plate off to the side and studied his sister’s face. She had such a young look about her, yet the dark circles under her eyes revealed that she had grown up too quickly. Ana was a very energetic child growing up. Despite the hard times with their father, she always seemed to radiate with a sense of hope. Even when their dad moved out and their mother was driven into depression and alcoholism, Ana still managed to find beauty in every day. And although she was hurt and saddened by Chris’ decision to leave, there was a greater part of her that was truly happy for him. Ana was one of the rare few whose inner beauty spilled out into her physical appearance. While she was easy on the eyes, if one were to look at just a picture of her, they might say she was average. However, if they spent only five minutes in her presence, her kind spirit would undeniably make her the most attractive person in the room. Because of this, Ana was admired by a number of boys her age and even some older. Unfortunately, it was also because of this that Ana dedicated her time to looking after her sick mother. Between that, school, and her job at the local grocery store, she had little time for dating. Still, she seemed to handle the never ending load of responsibilities with grace and compassion. But now, as Chris stared across the table at his baby sister, he noticed a sadness and weariness that was never there before. Her soft skin seemed slightly weathered and her eyes had lost much of their youthful sparkle. These last two years must have been very difficult for her. And for that, Chris couldn’t help but to blame himself. A waitress dropped a plate behind him. It crashed to the floor, bringing his thoughts back to the present. Ana glanced up at him and she smiled softly. “Have you talked to Rachel lately?” ______________________ Chapter 2: “Mr. Reed, you really need to at least try to eat something today,” a young nurse persisted. She held out a tray of grilled cheese and vanilla pudding. “I’ll tell you what I need to do!” The old man yelled from his bed. “I need to shove my slipper right up that cook’s ‘you know what’! This food is garbage!” The nurse didn’t know what to say, and so she just stood there helpless. At that time, Ana and Chris appeared in the doorway of the hospital room. The old man looked over at them and nodded swiftly before turning back to face the nurse, still clutching the food tray. “Do you mind? Can’t you see my grandkids are here to see me?” With that he shooed her out of the room. On her way out, Chris thought he heard her mumble under her breath Good luck. “Christian, my boy! Come over here and let me get a look at ya.” “Hey Pops. How’s it going?” Chris smiled and made his way through the tiny room and kissed him on the forehead. His grandfather rolled his eyes and looked out at the nurses’ station, “So hard to find good help these days, ya know.” “I know, Pops,” Chris laughed, “You always were quite the charmer.” “Yeah, yeah. Before any heavy conversations, let me say hello to this beautiful lady.” He motioned towards Ana with a wink and she left her spot in the corner. She leaned over the bed to give his cheek a kiss and brushed away a thinning piece of white hair that had fallen over his wrinkled brow. “Hi Grandpa,” she said as cheerfully as she could. She came to see him everyday and hoped he would never catch on to how hard this was on her. _______________ Troy Moore, Chris and Ana’s father, had walked out on his young family many years back. However, he didn’t go without leaving his mark on each one of them. Troy was an abusive father and an even more abusive husband. Most nights, he would come home from work or the bar, irate about something, and take it out on the closest thing to him with a pulse. Some nights he would bring home one of the women he’d picked up at the bar. He would have his fun with her in his room, while his wife curled up next to her children and cried herself to sleep. The rest of the nights he wouldn’t come home at all. And the last time her did that, he never came back. Despite everything he had put them through, their mother still claimed she loved him deeply. For weeks after he’d gone, she would sit at the bottom of the stairs. She’d lean her head against the banister as she stared at the front door opposite her, with a bottle of Scotch in one hand and an old t-shirt of his in the other. “He’ll be back in a bit,” she would always say, more to herself than anyone else. This went on for some time. Then one morning Ana found her lying at the bottom of the steps in a puddle of her own vomit, not breathing. Awakened by her scream, Chris dialled the only number he knew by heart. Tylor Reed’s. Their grandfather. Their mother was rushed to the hospital with alcohol poisoning. On that same day, Tylor had made the decision to move into their small ranch home. He lived there and took the greater hand in raising Chris and Ana. Tylor was a true model of what it meant to be a real father, and the kids loved him as if he was. ______________________ “Mom’s really sorry she couldn’t make it down today, Grandpa. She just…” Tylor raised his hand to cut her off. He closed his eyes and slowly nodded his head. “That’s okay,” he said, “Lynn will come in her own time, when she is good and ready.” [comments] => 1 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 43 [informant] => stellar [notes] => Edited for spelling as requested - Moderator_16 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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