I almost cried {the cons of a writer}

You know how when you write an emotional scene, it seems so real that you feel what your character is feeling? That's what happened here. So yes, you get to deal with an emotional Madeline. Enjoy. ;D

Anyway, I skipped one of the chapters because I had to post this RIGHT NOW. I'm sorry, but that wasn't a good show of my writing skills, anyhow. A few things before awesome scene:

This chapter isn't too gory, but it is a little sad and ''wow...''-ish, so I would suggest older readers read this instead.

Also, this chapter is very important. It reflects something very important that's happening in a book I'm writing {coughcoughthat-i-also-already-gave-you-info-aboutcoughcough}.

‘’Say, do you have any candies around?’’ Jimmy bluntly asked. It had been two long stories that weren’t new since we had last seen him, and Jimmy was itching for a new one. ‘’Bored, are you? You could have told me,’’ Harold the Elf said, trying to keep a straight face. Jimmy looked rather ashamedly at his right pant leg hem. ‘’Well…. They aren’t new stories. New stories are the very best, unless you haven’t heard an old one in a long while.’’ ‘’Alright, Jimmy, you little elf, I’ll tell Nellie and you a new story,’’ Harold the Elf confirmed. Quickly he racked his brain for a new story his great great grandson hadn’t heard.

       ‘’Ah-ha!’’ Harold the Elf at last said. ‘’I’ve got a very good story for you to hear today.’’ And so, Harold the Elf began.

Chapter four:

       Jimmy, still waiting for his new story, played with his pant leg hem. Nellie, however, noticed something odd was taking place.

       ‘’Jinny! Nodd lace!’’ Nellie squealed, violently shaking Jimmy’s arm. ‘’Nellie, stop it!’’ Jimmy crossly demanded and played more with his pants.

       Nellie, worrying for the worst, looked up again at Harold the Elf. He just… well… he just looked different. Nellie couldn’t really describe it and neither can I. But something was happening within Harold the Elf.

       Harold the Elf, shivering with excitement and fear of the unknown, happened to look down at Nellie.

       ‘’No, Nellie, don’t fear for the worst. Fear for the best,’’ Harold encouraged.

       ‘’When will you tell us a new story?’’ Jimmy demanded. ‘’Now. I will tell you the best story of time and—ohh! It’s horrible! Stop this cruelty!’’ Harold the Elf cried out. Even Jimmy, who always declared 'I ain’t ‘fried of no nothin’!’, shrunk back.

       Meanwhile, Harold the Elf was seeing the horrible things of the future. ‘’Burning, death… how could we go so wrong? Where are the elves, the ones who swore to protect all from this?’’ From nowhere, a silvery voice answered: ‘’they were killed off long before this time, Harold the Elf.’’

       Harold the Elf, presently returning to Jimmy and Nellie after hearing the voice, slipped Nellie and Jimmy off his lap. ‘’I think it’s time for you to leave. This story was not meant for those so young.’’

       But Jimmy protested: ‘’No. Nellie will forget it by the time we’re home, and I promise I won’t speak a word of it to anybody else.’’ With this, Jimmy firmly planted himself on Harold the Elf’s lap and helped Nellie get up there, too.

       ‘’Fine, but I doubt any of you will forget it,’’ Harold the Elf hinted darkly, already worrying about the feedback he would receive from Nellie and Jimmy’s parents.

       ‘’Far, far into the future, there was a small house in Ireland. This small, dirty house was located in Lambre, a town that would be destroyed soon after.

       ‘’Lambre was a dirty, dank place. Yes, it had it’s school, and it’s church; but hardly anybody went to either. What little could be taught at home would be taught there, and that would be all the child needs to know.

       ‘’Living up in the little house was a family of nine. Seven children and two parents. The father was gone most of the day… he worked for the bigger half of the day, making small wages, and then would disappear for the rest of the day until it was supper.

       ‘’The mother was greatly big, and rather homey, if not dirty. Everyday she would take care of her children, and taught them what she knew {what didn’t happen to be a lot}. Food was scarce, and all day the mother gave her food to her children, telling them breezily: ‘’Oh, I’ll get dinner somewhere else,’’ and would take a few coins and head out.

       ‘’The children were jolly children, fun to be around, and very sly. When they were hungry, they stole food. When they wanted entertainment, they would steal a trinket. Even though they were thieves, they had a feel to them that would draw you to them, knowing at once they would become your ‘’best friend’’.

       The middle one, though, was different. Scare-ish-ly different. He spoke of ludicrous things.

       ‘’The children lived a happily empty life, never knowing they were missing one thing important for a child to grow: love. Until one felt it… and was changed forever more…

       ‘’War came upon Ireland when the middle lad was just nine. All around the little house was fire and hatred and death and blood. The little children were kept inside, being babied and told: ‘’There are no screams. Now hush!’’

       ‘’All the children believed the mother and didn’t question her. Expect for the middle one. ‘’I hear them, Mother.  What is happening?’’

       ‘’The mother, who liked this one least of all, slapped his hand and told him to hush. The child went, crying softly and holding his slapped hand to his cold lips, to the corner where the other children were waiting.

       ‘’The father, who could not work because of the war, quietly conferred with the mother. ‘’I think we should take five of them and run for our lives.’’

       ‘’And what will happen to the other two?’’

       ‘’We can leave them as a peace offering.’’’’

       ‘’Instead of being horrified, as any proper mother would, this mother readily agreed. ‘’The middle one [she never bothered to remember their names if she didn’t like them] and the oldest,’’ the mother decided with no hesitation. ‘’Good. I’ll get everybody out except for those, and you just hush them and tell them to stay here.’’

       ‘’At last the time came for the horrible plan. ‘’We have no food left,’’ the mother explained to her children. ‘’Father and I and everybody except for the middle one and oldest one shall go look for food. Middle and Oldest, stay here and guard the house for us. We’ll be back shortly. Stay in here,’’ the mother ordered; and just like that, she left them.

       ‘’Oldest and Middle stayed in the little house for long, bravely thinking they were guarding it from intruders. Finally, Oldest being hungry, he opened the pantry. ‘’Why, look at this! There is food fit for kings!’’ Oldest cried, wondering how his dear mother missed this. ‘’How did Mother miss this?’’

       ‘’Quietly and horribly it dawned upon them both that Mother did not miss the food. ‘’We’ve got to get out of here. Take what food you can carry, and run with me,’’ the Oldest quietly ordered, filling a potato sack with canned food and bread and cheese.

       ‘’The oldest stepped out of the little house and was shocked by what he saw. Horrible, horrible things… braving the cold wind, he and Middle ran away.

       ‘’They ran far and hard, and when the mounds of food ran out, and the cold had bitten them so many times there were no fresh places to bite, they stopped. Any tears they cried froze on their rosy cheeks.

       ‘’Determined to live and show up alive wherever their mother was someday, they ran on until they reached a docking port. There they became stow-aways…’’

       Harold the Elf’s voice trailed off, and Jimmy eagerly asked, ‘’Where did they go to?’’

       ‘’America, New York…’’

       ‘’And what happened to them?’’

       ‘’Oldest died on the way to America, and Middle… well, to put it simply: he lived his life, whether bad or good, he did; and he regretted almost nothing.’’

       ‘’Did he ever experience love or learned to love?’’ Jimmy probed. ‘’I think he got married… the future is dimming quickly in my eyes… but he never stopped loving his mother.’’

       Tears poured gently out of Harold the Elf’s eyes. He was crying for things that had yet to happen. 

[note from Madeline: JIMMY PROTESTED!]