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A Chapter by Molly

Ch. 1

  
It was freezing. I would add a certain 'f' word but I was trying to stop my unladylike language. Who was I kidding; dressing like a skinny marshmallow isn't ladylike.

I didn't have a very thick winter jacket, but I wrapped myself in layers of every piece of clothing I owned.

I walked into the small book shop where I worked to avoid the frigid, icy wind but it was only a few degrees warmer than outside. The old hardwood floors creaked under my slight footsteps, the peeling wallpaper looked even more gray than it did yesterday, there were lots of shelves lined up with books that no one bought and just collected more and more dust.

"You're late." my skinny-assed boss yelled at me, smoking her cigarette. Someone long ago implanted it into Sheila Johns brain that she was too fat, too big, too stupid to understand life. I always described her as a stick: tall and skinny, nothing but a sack of anorexic skin and bones. A stick that had graying red hair and a sharp tongue.

Her dead husband started the small bookshop but ended up getting sick with brain cancer. The hospital bills took out all the funds Sheila had and now she suffers from depression. She's moody, mean, and a stubborn b***h most of the times I see her.

I acted like I didn't hear her and still watched the busy traffic outside of Denver, Colorado. Snow lined the places that people didn't shovel, making the place between the road and the sidewalk look like an igloo wall. Trying to warm up my frozen fingers, I blew and rubbed my hands together. But damn, it was freezing. The store couldn't afford a heating bill so Sheila just let it be.

"Did you hear me?" she screeched.

I rolled my eyes and turned towards my boss her old and dying green eyes glared at me. I'm pretty sure they used to glow with warmth and happiness long ago, but that wasn't a time that I was around. I pretended to pick off imaginary dust particles that stuck to my clothing.

"Don't act like you didn't hear me, you ninny! Get to work!" she screeched. She whirled past me and I glared at her retreating figure.

After setting up at the dirty, vintage counter, I waited for another phantom customer that would never come. After thirty minutes with no bitchy boss or people, I got my cheap glasses out and picked up a book.

It was a random book, about a guy who was a lab experiment and living with his mutations. It didn't really interest me, it just passed the time. Past noon, and not a soul was in sight. People in a hurry to get out of the cold just kept on passing by the front of the store. For a moment, my imagination fantasized of the destruction of humanity and I was the last living soul on earth. Now that would be paradise.

In the middle of my daydreams, the door opened, letting in a wind that seemed to come from Antarctica. I sat on my stool, silently watching a couple walk in. They were around my age, with thick warm jackets covering them.

The guy started to take off his jacket, as if expecting a nice and cozy little hide-away from the frigid air. When he finally registered the equally coldness inside, he grimaced and kept his heavy jacket on. The girl did the same.

Goldens. There wasn't anything that really distinguished them as that, but I could just feel the color flowing through them. It was a painful reminder of how colorless I really was.

I went back to my book and studiously ignored them -or at least, I tried.

"Are you sure your book will be here?" the guy asks. "This place doesn't look very... Reliable."

My hands tightened on the book I held. The character in my book has been slated for execution because the institute is being shut down.

"I'm not sure, Pete. This was just the nearest bookstore I could find. Hold on, I'll ask an employee," the girl replied.

I didn't look up from my book, even as I heard her shuffle closer.

The fictional character is rescued and interrogated by the government.

"Um, hello?" the girl asks.

I have no choice but to acknowledge her. I looked up into a heart shaped face, warm brown eyes, and a hesitant expression. I sigh and close my book, looking at her. She was pretty, tan mocha skin and dark hair. She seemed like the girl that would be in every single club in high school, played a sport, and be on some kind of committee that benefited the said school.

"I was wondering if you have a certain book." She rattled off a title of a book about mythology.

I nod at her and get down from my perch on the stool. We walked down past rows and rows of books until we got to the right section. I knew we had it because I had read it before -something else to pass the time. I gestured towards the shelf and when she thanked me, I nodded and walked back to my perch and went back to my book.

The boy now has to live in the modern world and is adjusting to the lifestyle when other experiments like him shows up at his door.

I hear the couple still in the store muttering to themselves. They seemed to come to a conclusion and made their way to the cashier register where I sat, patiently waiting for them to leave. They had gotten two other books based on the history of Greece and Rome. I rang them up and held out my hand for their cash or card. The guy took out his wallet and hesitated before he handed over his credit card. He had a lighter skin tone than the girl and messy brown hair that stuck up in different ways from the cold wind outside. His gray eyes held suspicion as he looked me over.

I narrowed my eyes as I took it from him. It irritated me that he seemed to assume that I might run away with the piece of plastic. I handed it back to him and gave the books over to the girl.

She smiled at me and asked, "Thank you. I haven't seen you around before; what's your name?"

Of course she hadn't seen me around before, I'm Gray, and no one notices Grays. Plus, how could you know everyone in Denver? It was physically impossible to know six-hundred, ten-thousand, three-hundred forty-five people? I simply gestured to my fading name tag. Hanna White. Ironic that white was the absence of color, just like me.

The girl seemed to hesitate more because of my lack of response. I mentally shrugged. It wasn't as if I had a loud enough voice for them to hear me. No one ever listens to a random Gray girl much less hear her. "Hanna," she said. "I'm Lindsey and this is my best friend, Peter."

I was confused. Did normal Golden people just introduce themselves to everyone? Was this a game to them? A game where they mess with the Grays?   

"We were wondering if you'd like to join us for coffee since the store doesn't seem busy. Plus, it's freezing in here." Lindsey continued. Her companion said nothing, only shooting her a glare.

It's obviously a game to them, I thought. No stranger just asks a poor Gray if they want to go get coffee with Goldens. I shook my head but was contradicted when my stomach made a loud noise. I grimaced, remembering that I hadn't eaten any lunch -or breakfast.

I glared down at my traitorous belly while Lindsey looked at me with an amused expression.

"C'mon," she urged. "We won't be too long and I'm sure your boss won't mind since it seems that you haven't had your lunch break."

It seemed unreal. She looked so sincere and kind, any person would smell something dead and dying behind her words. My own paranoia only added to a regular person's suspicion. But I was hungry -starving, and the temptation of any source of energy seemed welcoming. I sighed in defeat and jumped down from my stool. If I was going to humiliated, I might as well get some food to go with it.

"Does this mean you're coming?" she says excitedly. I nod as I walk to the room where Sheila was most of the day.

Her office was a glorified mess that would put dumpsters to shame. There was old and rotting food scattered everywhere along with trash of all shapes, sizes, and smells. Sheila was passed out on the floor smelling like booze, snoring her bony little heart out. I cringed to think of how dirty her home was. Not that it made much difference though; the bookstore was practically her home. I took her feather light coat and draped it across her sprawled form. It would hardly keep her from dying of frostbite so I took off the top layer of my many clothes and put it over her. There was no promise that I would get it back tomorrow.

I grabbed my notebook and pen right before I nodded at the waiting couple. Peter frowned at me before pushing open the door, probably wondering why some of my bulk was gone.

It was starting to snow again outside, another layer of white to go over the ice only to freeze again. Being how cold it was, I didn't want to wait for Lindsey and Peter to decide where we were going.

You're just afraid this could be a trap, my conscience sneered at me. It was right though. I didn't want to run into any more Goldens or talk to anyone that I didn't have to interact with. People were annoying that way -Goldens more so than others.

While my two new companions looked around to decide which direction to go, I started walking towards the small cafe a few buildings down. Unlike the small bookshop, the place was usually warm and pretty well off financially. The coffee and food there was cheap and good.

"Hanna, wait up! Where are you going?" Lindsey called trying to catch up with my fast pace. I looked back and saw that Peter was following with a scowl. I wondered if he always looked like he was in a bad mood or if it was just me.

We walked into the small cafe, and I felt as if I was an icicle being melted with a hair dryer. The smells of coffee and freshly baked goods filled my senses and I sighed, relaxed. The checkered laminate flooring and the light yellow paint job and the warm fireplace made me wish that I could live here.

"Hanna!" a booming voice yelled from the back room. I smiled as I saw Louis lumber to the doorway. He was a big man, one of the few people I could call my friend and the owner of the cafe. I ate here often whenever I could but I haven't found the time to visit recently. Bald, tattoos all over his arms, at first glance he's intimidating but in reality, he's the sweetest man I know.

I walked up to the counter. Not bothering to see if the Golden twins followed. I waved at him and he asked, "You want your usual?" The thought of food and a drink had my stomach eating itself in its hunger so I nodded. "Whose the company you have? Doesn't seem like your usual kind of crowd."

In response, I glanced at Lindsey and Peter who had walked up behind me. Turning back to Louis and rolled my eyes. He nodded in understanding. "Ah, stray puppies. I understand. What can I get for you?" he asked them, suspicion radiating from him.

That was the best part about Louis. He understands me with just my quirky gestures and I don't have to worry about it. I felt relieved that I wasn't the only one that was uneasy about having them along.

I mentally shrugged. Whatever they had to say would just help me pass the time. We sat down at a table booth, me on one side, Lindsey and Peter on the other just as Louis came out with everything that we ordered. The twosome just got coffee as I got my hot chocolate and my slice of vanilla cake with chocolate chip cookies. I was so hungry, I didn't even pay attention to them as I started eating. It wasn't the healthiest lunch, but who cared, I needed to gain some meat on me anyways.

Lindsey and Peter were looking at me with the expression that everyone else I see gives to me: pity. They probably thought I didn't have enough money to get enough food for me to eat. That I was dirt poor and couldn't afford anything. Slightly true, but I got by just fine.

I was sipping my hot chocolate when Lindsey spoke. "You don't speak much, do you." she said, not as a question, but a statement.

"Hannah doesn't like to talk." Louis bellowed from across the room. Peter looked around the empty cafe to see of the walls seemed to mind Louis' interjection. They looked at me and I just shrugged my shoulders as I drank my hot chocolate.

"Please explain." Peter said. It was the first time I heard him speak. It was like someone had ripped out the voice box of a robot and placed it in him. He had no emotion in it. Cold, alien-like, foreign. Annoying.

Louis walked on over to us and looked at me. I waved him on. I didn't care how they figured it out, just as long as they did and don't expect anything more from me. "Hannah doesn't talk. To anyone." he explained.

"Why?" Lindsey said, her voice whisper soft. As of it was something horrible. I rolled my eyes at the over dramatic tension.

Louis and I shared a glance and I could see the humor dancing in his old brown eyes. For some reason, he found it humorous that I had to explain myself. Normally, people didn't care if I speak or not. I quickly wrote in my notebook and slid it across the table for them to read.

*Why would I want to talk to people who don't listen to me?*   


© 2013 Molly


Author's Note

Molly
Since Hannah doesn't talk, I usually put her words in italics and with **** <--those

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I enjoyed this. It was well written and you really gave a sense of who Hannah was.

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on January 19, 2013
Last Updated on January 19, 2013


Author

Molly
Molly

GA



About
Ah... I'm Molly. The weird, awkward hermit that doesn't like people... Yep. That's me... Alright, I'll be honest... I love Owl City (they are my heart and soul) along with the actual owls :3 Mus.. more..

Writing
Chapter 1 Chapter 1

A Chapter by Molly


Chapter 2 Chapter 2

A Chapter by Molly