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Thursday, September 08, 2005
Fiction Friday... One Day Early

I'm eager, though I'm not sure how good this is... feedback would be appreciated.

FAMILY ROOTS Copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers

"It's not true. You're lying."

"It is true. You know in your heart I'm right."

Chantal stood in the alley behind her house, her backpack and books littered the ground in front of her. Bruno stood across from her, unshaven, wearing the same clothes for the last few days. Chantal, nervous but motionless, manages enough composure to grab a cigarette from her pocket, and lights it with great labours as her hands shake through the whole ordeal.

"You know those things will kill you. Well, actually, not really." Bruno looks towards Chantal, giving a knowing glance. "Haven't you ever felt like you weren't like the others, like you didn't fit in?"

Chantal definitely wasn't the Prom Queen from high school. She was tall, over six feet, thin, and dressed herself in nearly all black. However, she did not follow the Goth trend, and chose not to wear any makeup. Still, with her long, unmanageable dark hair, she possessed a natural beauty and aura. A natural academic, she had the highest graduating average in high school, and received a full scholarship at McGill University.

Chantal's success wasn't without its price. She was completely outcast since grade school. When she took the bus to school, she had to find an empty seat, as none of the other kids would let her share a double seat with them. Even when it got to the Graduation Formal, nobody asked her to be their date, over a dozen boys opted to go single rather than ask her.

Chantal felt lucky that during such difficult, emotional, growing times, that her parents always supported her. Being a keen scientist, Chantal always ended up teaching her mother more about Newton's Laws and chemical compositions as her mother made daily unsuccessful attempts to tutor her. Chantal, however, appreciated the company and always made her mother feel welcome to spend the later part of the afternoon and the early evenings studying with her. She was always grateful for each moment she spent with her mother, which she still carries with her to this day, to help ease the pain of her mother's passing, nearly one year ago.

Her father was a hard working, borderline workaholic, assembly line supervisor, who fought hard to make sure that his daughter was well taken care of. Chantal was, though it always longed in her heart that she wished she could have spent time with her father the same as she could with her mother. It weighed on her that her father may die without her really knowing him. To date, the last words he spoke to her were "You'll always be my little angel."

"You're my little angel." remarked Bruno, snapping Chantal from a brief reverie. Chantal shook her head, and quickly, yet subtly, the paralysis of fear set into her body, making it quite rigid yet again.

"You were never there. Even if you did knock Mom up, you never came back to see me. Jack Carver is my father. I don't believe you. I'll never believe you."

"You don't look a thing like your father."

"I take after my mother."
"Your father was the big man on campus when he was young. You were the eccentric, bright youngster cast out by your peers. Don't you think some of that would have rubbed off? Have you ever wondered why Jack worked such long hours? He could pay the bills. That wasn't the problem. Didn't Daddy ever tell you why he didn't spend time with you?"

Chantal's anger grew within her, breaking her psychosomatic paralysis. "You take that back, you fucking asshole." Unknown to Chantal, Bruno had been brandishing a small handgun, carefully concealed around his back. Chantal took a step towards Bruno, bringing herself face to face with the stranger. Bruno quickly shoved her back a few steps, and pulled out the firearm.

"I have no time to play this game." Bruno blurted quietly, as he quickly and deliberately pulled the trigger of the gun, releasing an earth shattering bang, along with a white flash.

Chantal saw nothing but white. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the image of her mother and father appeared. Both smiled at her warmly, and soon her mother faded away, only leaving her father. Jack soon crumbled, and from the rubble of Jack's remains, Bruno crawled out from underneath.

Another quick white flash.

Chantal was back in the alley, though all appeared odd. Chantal circled around twice, not noticing anything. Her gaze fell on Bruno, and then it dawned on her. Bruno was frozen, still holding the gun up, pointed at her. Shortly ahead was a bullet, suspended in the air. Chantal quickly walked up to the bullet, and grabbed a hold of it.

Chantal gets thrown to the ground like she was hit with a shockwave. "See, I told you that you were different. How many of your friends could pull a bullet out of the air like that?"

"None... Dad?"

Bruno offered Chantal a hand and brought her back to her feet.
neolithic pondered at 01:39
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