Powered by Blogger.
RSS

Pterodactyls

Nobody bothered to question me about the child I held in my lap, they were all much too weary for it. I looked around, noticing that I was the only male on the small lifeboat besides the crew member who was leading us through the dark waters, blowing on his whistle to search for survivors in the sea of bodies. The bloated corpses of the passengers floated in the water and we tried our best to avoid glancing at them.

When the ship first started to drop their lifeboats in the waters, I tried bribing one of the crew members to let me onboard a lifeboat. I was coldly rebuffed by the man who stated that they were only allowing women and children currently. Angered, I ran back into the crowd of people, struggling to find a way to save myself.

It was then when I noticed a child, barely a toddler, crying on deck for his mother who was nowhere to be found. Without thinking, I quickly scooped the child up into my arms, dashing to the other side of the ship where I heard they were releasing lifeboats as well.

“This is my son,” I lied. “I’m all he has left in this world, please! You’ve got to let me stay with him.” The man quickly allowed me into the boat. I watched as people still scurried around the ship like rats.

[Read More! Or don't if you don't want too..I don't care]

I held the child against me while sitting on the boat, drifting farther away from the ship. The little boy, still crying, wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.

“Mama,” he muttered in a little voice. The severity of my crime finally hit me. A feeling of guilt formed within my heart. I wondered if I had caused the death of this child’s mother, if she wandered around on board searching for the child who was no longer on the sink until she sunk to her death. Or what if I had saved this child’s life? What if his mother had been just as terrible as I was, abandoning her son in this time?

“Mama,” he muttered again. His voice rose with each sound and I hushed him to make sure nobody would hear.

“Look, it’s ok. I’m here.” The child looked up, staring down at me with his large, round eyes. I began to bounce him up and down on my leg, trying to calm the child down.

‘What am I to do with you?’ I wondered to myself as the little boy pulled me even closer to him. I could tell that he was of the third class due to his clothes. They were crudely made with cheap fabric. However, they were still able to keep him warm enough for me to feel heat radiating from him.

After an hour of debating, I finally decided on an orphanage. I wanted to come to America to create a fortune for myself. I couldn’t do that with a child clinging onto my arm. If his mother survived, she would most likely be searching for him in the orphanages of New York and if she didn’t, then he would be placed with a loving family who would be able to provide him with much more then I could.

The chilly air caused me to shiver and pull my coat even tighter against myself. The child must have sensed my shiver too because he pulled himself even closer to me, transferring some of his body heat. I smiled and wrapped him in my coat, patting him softly on the head. The Titanic had sunken not too long ago, creating a large whirlpool. Luckily, we were far enough from the ship to not get caught within its destruction.

Soon enough, another ship had found us floating in the ocean and allowed us onboard, taking us to our intended destination. I could feel the child’s heartbeat softly beating as he slept. The sun slowly rose as we approached even closer to my dream.

“We’re almost there,” I whispered again to the child who stirred slightly in his sleep but gave me a small smile. I wondered what he was dreaming of.

When we arrived, I could see crowds of people forming. Many were reuniting with their loved ones while many others were still desperately searching. A man with a clip board approached us.

“Did you register yet?” I shook my head. The man took out a pen. “Name?” I gave him all the information he needed about myself. Afterwards, he noticed the child in my arms.

“Is this your son?” The child looked at me, his large tear-stained eyes blinked and he gave me another smile.

“N—No sir,” I answered, a bit surprised at my hesitation. The man raised an eyebrow. “But we’re going to look for his mother,” I lied again, partly. Despite somewhat telling the truth, I still felt a sense of guilt. He nodded, seeming to have accepted my answer, and walked off.

The local orphanage was a somber-looking building. Its bricks were worn and faded from years of wind and rain. The dirty windows look as if they had not been cleaned for quite some time. Weeds were growing on the sidewalk in front of the building.

I took a moment to recollect myself and walked in, the door slightly creaking as I pushed it open. A woman sat at the counter, immersed in her book. Even without seeing her full profile, I could tell she wore a sour look on her face. Without looking up, she spoke.

“Can we help you today sir?” Her voice was nasally and monotone. I explained my story to her, changing a few details. She slammed her book shut and, with a loud sigh, took out some paperwork. I placed the toddler down on the floor. He teetered a bit but managed to stand still by holding onto my leg. The paperwork was much quickly then I expected and I left the boy with the woman.

I walked about a block away from the orphanage, feeling free to live my life, until I felt yet another surge of guilt. I tried to dismiss the feeling but it wouldn’t go away. I tried to erase the memory of the child from my mind, the fact that I may have destroyed his life forever. I then remembered the night before, when he clung on me so tightly as if I was his life.

The memory of his heartbeat and warmth as we held onto each other for dear life that night froze my steps. Before I left him at the orphanage, he looked up at me with his eyes, as if he was begging me not to leave him. Everything was my fault. My legs immediately began to move on their own, rushing back the whole block.

I burst through the door, sending it smashing against the wall. The woman raised her head at me, closing her book gently and smiled. She knew why I was here.

“Can I help you sir?” she asked. The child was still where I left him. His eyes perked up immediately when I dashed into the room.

“I’m here for my son.”

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sandy:

I can totally tell that you skivved off proofreading. (Even though you already told me, hahaha.)

I think you need work on your pacing, which kind of relates to making your sentences smoother. Sometimes you get too wordy, or you have too many "that"s or clauses and it just drags out the sentence or the paragraph - and it makes you lose the tone of the story. It starts sounding like Cindy trying to figute ouy how to phrase this sentence.

As for the story, I never really felt like the narrator became attached to the child. It was just sort of this huge jump from kidnap to the end. There wasn't a gradual, natural shift from one to the other. Probably because you aren't comfortable with writing this kind of relationship?

I'm sorry if I sound really bland, but I'm typing this past midnight and I'm tired LOL.

Anyway. As usual, your ideas are unique and awesome. I really liked the concept, but it really does need some revising to make the idea really work. Refurbishing!

This is def. better than stupid Jack and stupid Rose. Pfteh.

Anonymous said...

I really, really like the concept of this story. I didn't see him faking being the parent, and that was a great twist, right at the start of the story!

I do kind of agree with Sandy though, in that I didn't see the narrator becoming attached to the child. When did he start liking the child so much that he wanted to take the responsibility of taking care of him? That's... a HUGE decision! I feel like there should be some kind of build up to it, even if it's just the guilt of leaving the child. There should be something there, y'know?

Other than that though, this is a really fresh idea, and I really love it.

Also. Very unique title!

Post a Comment