The Soul of Scarlet's Lost Tears
To dream of a nightmare

And so, I continued with the story on a piece of scattered parchment that I found on the floor, while I sat here below the deck of t held us captive. Sitting here with most of the crew, surrounded we all were one each side, standing next to metal bars.

Which I overheard them exclaimed within their frustration calling the place that we were in the brig, bad enough I as even asked, one of them “where exactly am I” where he responded, “no need to worry you are safer down here with us than up there with those backstabbing PIRATES!”, returning, to what I was doing and where I left off with. Shortly soon after being licked by the hound I was able enough to slightly pull over the crumbling edge with even the help of the brave hound that was quiet in an assist-ting motivation.

As he leaned closer to me where I could grab with one of my hands onto his thick collar, which at that time couldn’t due to how just pulling myself decreased my energy as I in a brief time I suddenly lost my footing on the crumbling soil which brought me back to a constant reality of where I was.

Which intentionally brought more of the ‘what if’s’? I noticed his willful owner came to his side and kneeling downward on his right knee, offering his hand, surely was glad to take and grabbed onto mine slowly pulling me up use whatever strength he had.

But as if this was a continues constant reminder, of where I was, with the extra weight of both dog and owner plus let alone the fact that the edge was certainly giving way, especially do to its high stress capability soon depleting.

Barely getting to put a foot on the flat part of the cliff; no later than shortly soon after being held by the dog’s owner which I didn’t at that time get the name of I do recall sing him around the market a few times.

With more and more of the other dogs joined in adding to the uneven balance of weight and you know what they say about too many fishermen fishing in one barrel, a greater chance of creating a bigger knot.

Well these dogs all wanted to help this one little girl out so badly that they started fighting among each other.

Growling and snarling, biting and clawing which soon lead up to a sort of cock fight among the two of them. As it was even making it harder for the men to not only help me but to separate their dogs leading them off the cliff.

With only seconds remaining before the sun soon sets on the horizon, the men or the owners soon quickly broke up the two that were fighting when they finally got there. Well with all the commotion from the barking, growling and tearing of fabric their attention was shortly on separating the dogs, which soon lead them finding only half of a sleeve hooked on a short thin branch fluttering on the ground caught by a broken root sticking out of the ground.

One by one the men looked over where part of the edge of the cliff seemed to have been recently broken off, where even small bits of yellow fabric started to appear off the rocks below where I slid downward toward the water below.

The first person that was on scene shouted out “on no she is slipping out of my hands!”, feeling quiet in disbelief fallowed by opening their eyes looking back toward the man and his dog at the edge as they looked back at each other and saw the torn-up fabric of a little girls coat the man’s hands.

Who was the first one there as pieces of it fluttered in the once again calm breeze where at that time he only said, “we’re too late, she’s gone, I hope you are happy”.

With a few men that may not want to believe it slandered over toward him as they carefully peered over the edge as they could only see the high tide, and white caps below but no little girl.

For when I slowly floated away from shoreline as the white caps of the waves blanketed me every time I rows to the surface. Being awake through the whole thing kept me fighting against the waves even trying desperately to swim back to shore but more, more I swam the less and less I came close.

Close to getting to shore, through it all I Sara would always find a way of finding the solution to a problem. This was certainly a huge problem especially when I started to get cold as well as getting tired due to the waves brushing against me and only for a moment. I stopped and just stayed afloat when I looked all around me and saw that the cliffs of the shore line got shorter and shorter as I slowly was taken further away.

I was just about to give up hope of ever reaching the shore line of ever seeing my big brother and my big sister as well as my mother and father, I looked over to my left and there I saw peering out of the water was miniature cliffs.

Taking a few more breaths I then started to swim toward them as the first thing I thought of doing was getting out of the water, since these three cliffs was as close to shore and out of the water I could be for now. Three sleeping dunes of rocky edges lay still, with a spray of white caps wash heavily, but lightly showering with a soft foamy mist.

Once I finally reached the first of the three, from being cold wet; a good thought of survival occurred to me, while I reached the rugged side of the rocky mound was to get to or try if I can and get to higher ground which therefore I had to climb.

All like small island cliffs themselves, on the far edge of the cove and a half a so mile away from the main stretch of flat beach, I started too climbed upward.

The first one I couldn’t get a solid grip, slipping every single time.

Whenever the chilly water splashed on my back and on the already wet sides of the cliff, making me slip and fall back into the cold frigid water. The night continued, as I burned what was left of my strongly efforts of getting to higher ground nothing else.

The thought of trying desperately a failing miserably I’ve decided to try the other cliffs which for the second cliff was a little bit easy to grip onto but when I could peer over the top I saw that it was already inhabited by a small group of gulls which in a way did not want to be bothered. Too where, I then chose to try the last remaining cliff which was both somewhat in-between hard and easy to climb it.

Reaching the top of the small cliff/ island, where it had a flat enough surface that even in a fetal position but never the less. Crawling on my slightly numbed hands feeling a slight tingle in each of my ten digits while pressing onward on this cold sopping wet, rough incline.

Feeling the calm air, reaching the top my body soon started to shiver since from the direction I climbed was facing out toward the open ocean where the main part of the waves was coming from to where even a cold breeze fallowed closely behind. The sun did its farewell address, hiding behind a few thick clouds making it colder than it should be though the white capped waves kept on washing over the rocks.

Cradling myself on flat surface as best as I could I tried to wrap myself with what was remainder of my torn coat to which soon accrued to me when. I noticed it had half a sleeve using it as a blanket and my one shoe as a pillow. As I, there be laying, there in a fetal position trying my hardest of keeping warm keeping my back against the wind while it blew a misty spray over the rough sides of the three cliff islands.

The one that I was on had a small cast over hook, which blocked most of the strong wind to my surprise it was a good dam blocker.

The cool wind soon intensified compressing on my already damp clothes, in the back of my mind thinking about all who I seem to have left behind in quite a lurch to where I deeply hope to see them again someday soon.

The waves were soon the only thing I could hear roaring as they crash tremendously against other cliffs, that even the sound of certain voices by men who yelled out for me by name “Sara, Sara Lane, Sara Lane Adams” as they passed right on by in small tug boats; none of them even once suggested to look around the small cliffs.

Only thinking that they couldn’t find here than I must have got swept more likely farther outward than toward inward where the three cliffs was more at land but surrounded by water never the case may be.

Soon time marched on; against them all when the light in the sky putting a damper on most to all who spent the entire rest of the afternoon and half the late hour of night.

Had almost given up and to those who didn’t want to admit an unwilling defeat since this was no trophy fish.

With the search and rescue of the young little girl, that was from a well-known and respected farming family. Soon had to come to grips, and hypothetically thinking that I might have, taken by a stronger pull of a current further out to sea.

Hearts and prayers were given for the little girl to either be found or find safe enough haven. In that short hour while my back was still faced broad side toward the tide with even a casting shadow soon draped over the three cliff mounds of barnacle rock.

I desperately tried to get some sleep even though I shouldn’t but I was cold. Exhausted and let alone scrapes from the fall some gashes on my hands from how pruned my hands became.

Cupping onto my hands together (palm inside palm) while I continued to keep myself warm by pressing my knees against my chest trying to drown out the sounds of the icy water, that was all around me with the cool beat of my heart I began to try and put my mind over matter as it worked lots of times before.

Only in my mind I seem to drift to a warm climate as I soon started to feel a little warmer than before, just by forgetting that I was still wearing the light and now damp summer dress with a half torn over coat wrapped over me.

While that was going on. Whispering voices of those who called out my name shortly evaporated among the clashing waves and the misting winds which soon died down to a point where the stars started to peek out.

From the dark blanket, which this certainly was a shadowless moon night where there was a moon without a shadow with stars that seem to shine out ever so clear and bright.

The sun soon gave a winking goodbye when it settled on the far horizon with the lasting colors of a golden glow of orange purple and a lasting yellow let alone a pinch of hazy red.

Arriving back at the beach from where the men had launched from; when they all started to look for Sara.

The men hope of ever finding the young cast away was soon short lived as for those who leaped out first into the somewhat cold shallow water that was knee high where it gradually got deeper the farther you step out.

Grabbing onto the side of the boat they then slowly brought it into dry dock. For those few who stayed in the boat where scoping out the extra water that got into the boat while they’re being pulled.

Bright the stars may have been most of the men dared not to continue any further unknown to the harsh chilly weather changes for any small craft such as the small little fishing boats they had with them, they might as well call themselves castaways, for the time being.

Taking their time due to how long the men were beginning to feel the lingering tiredness began to take its toll on the weary lads who pretty much put their whole heart and soul of finding this one young girl.

Who didn’t really deserve this day of days where the sight of her walking around the small town, always a smile on her face.

Giving a little carnation of a lollipop to some of the little boys and girls around the town after her mother gave her the lollipop to her.

All the men got out of the boats that were soon turned over and dumped on the high end of the beach as each of the boughs (front end of the boat) were tied to a certain tree or post.

All of them soon gathered in a huddle which they all had the same answer which was “there was no sight or sound of her anywhere”, “OK then” one of them started to ask who somehow appointed himself leader of this little short escapade, “OK then who’s going to volunteer telling the parents; who sadly doesn’t know what happened quite yet” he said the last bit under his tongue.

Taking yet another moment, he then looked around the group then pointed to three individuals as he claimed, “how about you three” the three men looked at each other until one of them spoke “hay you said any volunteers besides why us three”, “first; I was being kind.

Second you three knows the family more than the rest of us so how about it”, “well if you put it that way I guess we could”.

The three of us soon, were by ourselves it soon dawned on them that this wasn’t going to be an easy task since the news wasn’t good especially when it came news about their youngest daughter of three.

Walking on the small path that entered a small wooded area that separated from the tall wheat fields and the greenest of rolling hills to the short little cove of beach line and in the very center that sort of separated the rolling hills and three small feet of bending wheat fields was a small little farmhouse where a kind family of five lived in an awning peace.

At the end of the short path that lead them through the tall trees of woods, we three had to continue walking even further ranging around three and a half miles of small hiccups of green side hills, in a while we sort of jogged since we didn’t want them to be waiting any longer than they already have been.

Just by reaching the front yard of the house approximately a quarter past seven. We three (Chris, Jake and Eric) stood there giving us a little breather.

As for me, Eric the one who manage to volunteer us said,

“well I don’t think they will know until we knock”, the two

Chris and Jake said at the same time ‘yep’ standing in a line formation looking toward us is. Chris, Jake than me which in turn fallowed by the person who was Jake on my left replied, “well then let’s go” glancing toward me with a friendly hint of a smile, “right” I responded and took the first step as the two stepped forward then quickly stepped back as if they repented their decision of coming with me.

It wasn’t long for even I soon notice that I was standing on the front porch by myself, looking back at my friends Chris and Jake just standing there twiddling their thumbs.

While they looked back at me a lonely farmer’s son myself who on some occasion helped this one family out tend the fields on long weekends especially when it came to harvesting the wheat from mending to bundling.

“Well” I thought to myself, “well I guess it’s up to me, here I go then I’m reaching for the door, I’m beginning to knock on the door”.

Noticing that I was slowly taking my time Jake soon shouted out “why are you still standing there Eric, it’s not like you’re asking his daughters hand; just simply knock on the stupid door like this” (thud, thud).

Very vocalized, by carrying on how he didn’t think he needed to add the knocking since the door swung opened on the second to third thud, on the other side of the front door was the little girl’s father looking at the both of us when he even saw Chris, over our shoulders waving back at him in an innocent manner.

At the same time, the old man stood there as he cleared his throat then he started to say, “I’m sorry boys but Mathew is not here, besides it is very late to be asking for my oldest daughter right now so, it is best for you fellows to be going back home before it gets even darker” which it was not wasting any more than it had too.

Taking a big gripping gulp, I nervously swallowed once I saw the little girl’s father looking at the three of us individually then turned his attention back at me; it was like a defining silence when that occurred over that moment, let alone house as I started to slowly say something.

“Where not here to see Mat or your daughter Alana sir”, “well then why are the three of you doing at my door late in this hour” in a sort of fierce but settling alto voice.

He asked that fatherly question, the porch light started swarming with ambiance of flying insects warming themselves around the warm glow of the glass that surrounded a lit candle that was lit from the inside of the house.

It wasn’t much longer for the shadows of the insects soon danced along the walls and floorboards, getting very tired of waiting for the answer from any one of us; taking a step back as he slowly started to close the door at that moment it wasn’t any much longer when I noticed that there was a bigger shadow.

That blocked the flickering glow of the porch light, looking up to see what it was with a slow simple sigh, I have only to come a find that, it was the front door as the bolt of the doorknob soon clicked to a close fallowed by the father’s voice being somewhat muffled by the thick door said,

“goodnight fellows, goodnight and come back tomorrow” discouraged.

That I couldn’t do anything but stand herewith the exasperation with a boot in my mouth. I could only wait until something else comes my way.

Upon the passing hour, I wait, with the darkening clouds of night start to move across the sky as if the moon was welcoming them in and over this cool felt night where the crickets start fiddling away slowly and a little softly.

With a slow linger of clouds that slowly came across the sky so swift and silent where it was not long that my friend

Jake who said as he turned and faced toward me “well that was easy than ever, come on let’s do what he said and just go home”.

To be that easy like my friend just admitted to; as though being more generous than he was certainly showing, reaching over with my left hand then placing it on his right shoulder with a short like instinct he turned his head; looking at my hand and slowly up at me as if I had something to say.

Only by tapping on top of his shoulder, a few times I slowly walked closer toward the door, a gently as I tapped constantly on the door, knowing that they might already be starting to get ready to go to bed; therefore, hoping against hope, that I might see her father answer the dreading knocking at the door.

Straddling my feet against the floorboards of this creaking old porch that has seen better days, feeling like I was preparing myself for an interview of a job, other than telling him the dreading news that I so deeply down inside I didn’t want to leave just yet with them pondering with dread of what happened.

Gently tapping on the front door. I didn’t want to leave before telling him the regretting news, as well as wanting to see the father’s presents again.

Feeling that it would be a little easy to tell it to him, then it would to present the message to her mother.

Hoping against hope is a far out cry to wish upon; late is the hour in which we three started to feel the slow cool breeze of the coming night brush over the tops of trees, brushing on the autumn leaves, well as neighboring tall grains of wheat started to lull everything to sleep by swaying back and forth, side to side like the coming of inward tides.

Taking a deep sigh while I repeated to myself on what I was about to, well this time I was going to say before long came the sound of the bolt of the door begin to unlock and slowly the door opened inward.

A surprising out come to see that it wasn’t who I was expecting, but as it turned out to be the mother of the little girl.

Holding onto the doorknob with her right hand, standing there in a deep dark blue robe, she then covered her mouth when she felt a yawn coming on, followed by “now boys didn’t you hear father’s orders to go home”, I Eric replied. “Yes! Mam we did it’s just that I, I really needed to tell him something, something very important and I guess” I continued to say under a whispering sound (no offense) “but you’ll have to do”.

With a slight wonder-us look was soon present on her face, as she stood there now fully in the door frame this time leaning more closely into what I was going to tell her, before I could say a word let alone a syllable; Jake, still standing behind me saw, as in noticed that I slowly began to show the signs of hesitation once again.

So, in a friendly gesture he then placed his left hand on the back of my right shoulder blade and gave a nudge to which in turn I wasn’t ready for and let out “your daughter is missing”!

Bewildered on how I blabbed out the distressing news about their daughter it seems that the message was not so clear, the mother trying to figure out what just was said; slowly she placed her left hand on my right shoulder.

Pulling me inside the house far enough where the door slowly closed behind me.

“Now tell me that what you just said, but slower”, “well, I” started to say once I saw at the corner of my left eye my two friends peering through the small twelve by six window that was evenly cut into small squares.

That was also covered by a thin lace chins curtain looking through the thin streaks of space.

Taking my full attention away from the mother’s appearance, soon feeling a gentle touch of soft skin, hand underneath my own chin.

I started to turn my head slightly; therefore, bringing my attention back toward her. With her young tiring eyes began to show that it was now or never I then shrugged and leaned in toward her right ear and begun to whisper the words one more time “your daughter is, um missing!”

Retracing my lean and standing straight up with a slow deepening sigh I was slightly relived on finally saying what I wanted to tell them.

For the mother looked back at me once again, with a confused but in a deep thought, trying so hard to figure and add it all together before she said anything, nor did anything I reached out; grabbed onto both of her hands; cuffing them into mine I could begin to feel a little tiered myself.

But neigh that wasn’t at all the case for her as she started to slide her left hand out from underneath mine, standing there this time with my own grip started to compress onto her right hand as if.

Myself wanted to tell her something else, therefore saying

“we tried very hard on looking for your daughter but…”

Without a single hesitation, I added “what are you trying to tell me especially on this late of an hour, my daughter is missing, but she’s in her room fast asleep”, she then shortly continued “which daughter would that be?”, “Alana my oldest and then there’s my youngest daughter”.

So, bewildered “No! not Sara, where was she last seen tell me where” not wanting to waste any more minutes holding it in I then told he, “she was last seen walking on the lonely cliff, that divided the shores of Win Gate Cove, and then she was gone, when suddenly strong current of wind picked up”.

“What do you mean by that, that “the current was to strong, she was walking onto of the cliff was she”, only trying to figure in her head, the foolish nonsense for being as late as it was.

“Well” I started to say clearing my almost dry throat, when I noticed that the father slowly walked out of the bedroom and closer toward me and his wife placing his right hand on her shoulder. In a way telling that he too wanted to know my purpose, “well, she didn’t slide down to go in the water by her choice, as most likely she fell, she fell off the cliff and into the”.

That was when a sharp slap came across my face, looking toward my left side as I was hit by the mother’s left hand on my right cheek as if she didn’t want to hear any more.

Though in any other case whenever a person that would be hit like that it would call for retaliation but as I looked up toward the two and only seeing the mother’s back facing me, I could only stand her in a deep thought as there was nothing I would’ve said at that time.

Her face was compressed into her husband’s chest, looking back me, with a very deep fearsome stare, from any denominate creature would have on his face.

Feeling like he could shoot a streak of lightning through me, I slowly begin to back away and proceed toward the door cautiously and quickly as I could, getting closer and closer, becoming more contentious of my surroundings and who was around me at that time.

He started to slowly sit down next to her, down in one of the chairs in the living room. It wasn’t but a few seconds later when the door to their oldest sibling slowly walked out and down the small hallway and toward the kitchen.

When she noticed if there was any single doubt that she didn’t hear something with all the commotion Alana, 15 that was simply up to grab a small glass of water when, she noticed her mother sitting in dad’s favorite chair, with her face now buried in both of her hands in sure disbelief that something like this could have happened to them.

With her elbows was pressed deep on top of her knees, kept on repeating over and over as if we three couldn’t hear her muttering “it’s not, no, no it can’t be true”.

Approaching up to her mother’s left side Alana calmly placed her right hand on the back of her mom’s neck while crouching down to the floor with a concerning expiration on the half awaken daughter’s face.

Having such emotional connection between the two, the mother simply leaned closer to her left placing her head on to Alana’s right shoulder while in the mean time she (Alana) was rubbing her mother’s shoulder blades.

When this was going on inside the house that who would come walking up toward the house but the oldest, oldest son of the family Mathew.

Walking up the stairs of the short porch; just when he reached the last step he noticed two of his friends looking through the front window in unusual way like unknown but known stokers, “hey fellows, what’s up” a little spooked by a familiar voice suddenly appeared from the quiet.

I, Jake and Chris was standing outside the window where we soon looked up and there standing right behind us was our other friend Matthew.

Looking back at us like he didn’t know what else to say but couldn’t think, although from his expiration on his face pretty much said it all with such a visual communication.

“Guys I told you yesterday that I was going fishing today and won’t be back until dark” taking a settling pause he continued as he placed both of his hands on each of our shoulders “what’s that in your hand Chris?”

Puzzled on what he had asked, that the three of us looked down at what Matt when he then asked.

With a simple turn of events it became clear, like a small drop of morning dew cleaning a sunflower’s petal. “I ask you one more time Chris what is this,” before he finished the question he slowly reached down and grabbed the piece of fabric that he was carrying all this time.

In a way, he didn’t have the chance on giving it to Eric, who was still inside the house; while we could only somewhat see him from the corner of our eyes and in-between the curtains.

He was still looking through the front window, sort of like he was slowly being interrogated by Sara’s father and mother, for them to hear such news from us.

Who in the past did practical jokes whenever the four of us got together (Mat, Eric, Jake, and Chris) “well?”

I started to say when I turned, looking back at Mat who kept on looking down at my hand. I still was holding onto the fabric that I got from one of the men who said that he grabbed it from a thin root that was on the very edge of the cliff, to which it so happens to be half of Sara’s sleeve.

Not getting any answer from his two friends Mat then reached over quickly and grabbed the already torn fabric right out of my hand before I could do or say a single syllable like “hay” it was out of my hands and into his.

Slowly examining it like a tracker on a hunt he soon realized.

Looking up at the two of us, in a short glimpse of surprise came over Mat’s face and without warning he dashed toward the door after it really would seem that he added it all together.

Once he saw his other friend Eric standing in his house; it wasn’t long for Mat to soon remembered that his little sister Sara wanted to even plead to go with them down toward the cove as they each made a single promise that they would look after her.

Turning back the bolt of the doorknob, until it was like a hollow wind struck the front of the door as it soon burst opened with Mat hanging onto the doorknob.

I, Eric was just about to sit when I soon leaped to my feet once I saw him approach me with almost the same fierce look that his dad who he happened to interrupt.

“And another thing, eh, son your back-home kind of late aren’t yeah”.

Proceeded to get to where I was standing, not knowing what he was going to do at all anything in front of his two parents I stayed put.

It was certainly an eye brow rising moment, stopping only just a few lonely feet from me; raising the torn fabric that he held in his left hand up toward my chin and a clenched right fist was straining by his side since in a way for Mat to be a Blacksmith’s assistant can really tell you that they do more than sheer wheat but father and son are two blacksmiths that have their own smith shop in town.

Somewhat he was holding back any violent emotion upon which the question he asked was like all the questions that his parents continued to ask me.

“Tell me, friend, where is my, our sister, and Tell me!

Where did you three find this shred of her clothing?”

A calming, dread of silent fallowed for I started to feel the jitter’s, standing my ground, I looked up at who had the torn fabric in his now clenched left hand.

Then a calming but tiring voice spoke, “give Eric room to breathe” with those kind words from Alana, as she gently placed her right hand on top of Mat’s left shoulder.

With a deep sigh, a took a few small steps back, which this time I saw my two friends at the door frame, just standing there looking and waiting, waiting and looking.

Until I then bluntly waved them in slowly they entered while they saw that Mat too was watching them walk right in and over to my side.

Like they had any sense, if they were two disobedient dogs that sort of knew they did something wrong as they tried to show their guilt.

“So, let me rephrase the question why did the three of you come to this house and not have my little sister Sara with you but what seems to be left of her spring jacket”.

“Woe, woe, woe hold the withering tree beard why would she be with them when I specifically told you to take her, what happened Mathew Terrance McCray”.

Feeling that the simple blame game has now turned toward the son of the blacksmith once he heard his father say those few three words which happens to be my full name.

Reaching behind and to the side, of our very, very good friend Eric, which from the looks of, he might need more supportive help than could appear to be.

By that time, Mat’s father with a stern voice said his name out loud, a little smirk came across both of our faces, but then we quickly soon realize that he might look back at us any second so we went back to our demeanor exasperation.

Since by now we three including I; Eric, Chris and Jake all started to feel sorry about ourselves as we slowly even started to feel more and more guilty of what we have done let alone what we have not and should have done.

That we let not only our friend down but his trust in us for not watching over little Sara, who is now as we all figure, still being brought out further and further out to the open sea.

“How could you leave her, with them of all people”, “but dad they, these people that you speak of are my friends up until now I trusted their judgment?”.

“Well I trusted you son, not my son’s friends and look what happened, they’re here and she isn’t”, “yeah so” Mat shortly said, “so where she is uh, and where is your sister?”

In a distant haze, Mat and his father including his mother standing alongside their oldest daughter Alana.

All eyes were on the three of us, we each looked at one another, where no words could explain such a deep gnawing questions, that fluttered their minds soon proceed after the long stare of judgment.

Like before no words could explain since their expirations asked all the pondering questions. With a deepening sigh, the three of us split up by walking around the coffee table that was in the center of the room; we then told them the story of the day and what fallowed.

Each were confronted by tears of doubt, blame and then ending it with forgiveness where we as in Eric, Chris and Jake was escorted into a horse drawn carriage by Mat and his father to each of our house’s.

It felt so long for all of us as we even started to ponder of what he would tell our parents who would probably be up and waiting for us to come home.

Upon every stop, to every house of my friend’s house my father would stop the carriage then tell me to stay, then he would proceed to get out and walk up to each house.

Knocking very loudly on the front door so that it would be heard, taking only a moment to talk with their father or mother and explain to them the reason why and what for.

Which I Mat could only view from a far and couldn’t hear what was said other than “Good-Night and I’ll see your son at my shop in the early morning”, as I could see my friend look back at me before he walked inside.

Thinking that their punishments would be less severe than mine I wasn’t even close, as we got closer to home he told me what he had said to the parents of my friends which didn’t come to no surprise.

That they even agreed to have not only them work until the end of summer, but he also added for my punishment was that I would have no outside contact with them for how long I still to this day I still haven’t heard back and it’s been three weeks since that night.

For my punishment was added extra chores around the house and shop. I would be tending to the fields as well as doing double the time at the shop.

Considering that, that was harsh of a punishment I promptly agreed. Pondering, let alone I was tossing and turn under my covers all through the night. Sara’s family hoped to see their little girl to be safe, safely nestled back in their arms once more.

When they could only hope and dream of that day, the final hour grows weary from dusk to dawn. Glancing at the summer moon, as it too stares back toward me. With the hooting sound of the great barn eyed owl getting itself ready for the long night’s hunt.

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