Chapter 1-IsabelleA Chapter by Lina Grey
Meet Isabelle, sassy, independent, and just oh-so-loveable.
"Right this way, Miss Kina. Don't mind the guard; he's always there for your protection," said the scrawny man with the orange mustache. A large man stood in the corner of the room. He nodded when the man said "guard".
The room was plain, with just two chairs that sat face-to-face. The scrawny man sat down in one and gestured for Isabelle to sit in the other. The chair was extremely uncomfortable, but Isabelle didn’t mind. She was used to uncomfortable situations. She noticed that the legs of her chair were of unequal lengths, and it squeaked annoyingly whenever she shifted her weight. She decided to stand.
The scrawny man scowled slightly when she stood up. Then, he opened the manila folder that contained everything he needed to know about the girl.
“Your full name is Isabelle June Kina? You are fifteen years old, and you were born out of wedlock, is that correct?” The girl nodded. He continued. “Your mother, Marielle Lynn Kina, died at the age of thirty-nine?” Another nod. He scowled. As soon as this was over, he would enjoy ‘disposing’ of the ignorant wench.
He asked the girl about everything in his folder, and each time she responded with a nod. It was all she could do; hearing anyone talk about her life in that sympathetic, disappointed tone drove her crazy. It was as though she didn't surpass his expectations, and it made him feel sorry for her. She knew, as soon this was over, she'd be feeling sorry for him, the arrogant fool.
Almost an hour of interrogation had passed when a high-pitched bell rang out. Isabelle covered her ears to block it out. The man chuckled. "Don't worry, child. It's just the PA System." he crooned as he pushed a button on the wall. "Yes?"
A familiar voice answered, "Mr. Minks, there is a package for you."
"Oh, yes, well, send it up."
There was a curt grunt on the other end, and then static. Mr. Minks pushed the button again. Isabelle watched him the whole time. When he sat back down, he looked up at her, smiled, and opened her folder. He flipped through it aimlessly, pretending to be busy. Isabelle glared at him. The nerve of this man! First, his pointless interrogation, then laughing at her pain, and now ignoring her? She wished she could rip that stupid little orange mustache off his face, and laugh as he cried for his mommy. That would teach him. Her malicious thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, which was swiftly opened by the guard. At the doorway sat a large, brown box. The scrawny man, Mr. Minks, tried to pick it up and carry it inside, but it was too heavy for him. He tried to pull it in, but still he was too weak. Pushing had no luck, either. Finally, the guard reached down and picked up the box with one hand and carried it inside.
Isabelle almost laughed-almost. This was just what she needed. With both the guard and Mr. Minks busy with the mysterious box, the door was left wide open for her. Slowly, she crept off down the hall, the whiney voice of Mr. Minks and the gruff voice of the guard fading with distance. She turned the corner and waited. Surely they noticed her absence by now, or was she really that lucky? She turned to back. The guard had his head down in the box, pulling out the contents, piece by piece. Mr. Minks was standing on the chair whining profoundly. Isabelle rolled her eyes. Why was everything so stereotypical? Big, gruff man hides in corner and does the dirty work. Short, scrawny man whines like a spoiled baby. So what's new?
She turned to continue on her way to find herself face-to-face with a boy about her age and height. He was wearing a white nightgown that hung loose on his frail frame. His head was bald. He smelled like he was just covered in baby powder and his eyes squinted from behind his plain, nerdy glasses. "Who are you?" His voice was nasally and very stereotypically nerdy.
"Who are you?" Isabelle retorted.
"I am Nicolas Barnes the Sixth. Who are you?" He scowled.
Isabelle wondered whether she should be honest with the boy, then decided against it. "I am Veronica Steward. Pleased to meet you." Nicolas eyed her curiously, as if debating what to do next.
"You don't look like Veronica Steward. I've met Veronica Steward. She's taller than me, and you’re just my height."
"Um, maybe that was someone else, because I'm Veronica Steward and I've never met you." She hated how shaky her voice was. What if the boy was right? Had he actually met someone named Veronica Steward?
"I know. I lied. I was testing if you were telling the truth. You passed." He grinned at her. She let out a relieved sigh. She was safe.
"Well, if you lied to me just now, how could I trust you? For all I know, you could really be Jonathan O'Braisey." she contorted, randomly making up a name.
"Because I told you I lied. Therefore you must trust me. Why are you not wearing your clothes?"
Appalled, Isabelle looked down, only to find herself still wearing her worn jeans and white blouse, her zebra-striped socks, but no shoes. "I am wearing my clothes. Except my shoes. Where are they?"
Nicolas gave her a confused look. "What are you talking about? Those aren't clothes. I'm not sure what they are but they're not clothes. Clothes are simple whites, like I'm wearing." He held out the sides of his nightgown. "And what in the world is a shoe?"
As soon as he asked her that she looked down at his feet; they were bare. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came to her. He stared at her, waiting for an answer. When none came, he said, "Well, Veronica Steward, you are very peculiar. Come along with me and we can find you some clothes." He turned, and walked down the empty hallway. Isabelle quickly followed.
Mr. Minks and his large guard watched the scene from the doorway with unpleasant expressions. The guard, because he knew he would be blamed for such a horrendous turn of events, and Mr. Minks, because the girl's stupid arrogance and ignorance might have just cost her her own life, and, well, she needed to be alive, for now. A rescue mission would have to set forth immediately.
© 2012 Lina Grey
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on April 22, 2012
Last Updated on July 9, 2012
Virginia Beach, VA
AboutI am a 15 year old girl and writing is my passion. I am unsure of where my life is headed, but, no matter what, I will never stop writing. It has been the only constant thing in my life and has gotten.. more..
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