So I'm writing this book, lemme know how you like it

It's called Wind and Rain to start and its about a girl who goes into the revolutinoary war but there's mroe to it. Lemme know what you think!

Prologue:
I was furious. The pure hatred blinded my common sense. I was in the orphanage, Mrs. Beatrice’s House for Abandoned Children. A boy called Billy had framed me for something I didn’t actually do. I was as livid as the cook is when I filch an extra biscuit at dinner. I looked toward him, seething. His long face was contorted in an ugly sneer, but he quickly changed his expression into one of fear after glancing at me. My face must’ve been a window into my anger. I punched him in the cheek bone, then right in the jaw. Billy staggered back, but I grabbed his starched collar roughly. His brown eyes were watering now, but as he tried saving face, he threw a weak punch at my arm. I immediately right-hooked him in his nose and my knuckles were quickly covered with blood.
“Ace you must stop at once!” The orphanage lady screeched at me. I didn’t care what the old hag said. I pushed Billy to the ground and as hard as he had tried to hit me, he was not successful. My big brothers, Patrick and John, pulled me away from him and the orphanage lady told them to put me out. The expression on their face was one of indifference. Being put out meant that I was no longer allowed to be there, as I had been taught the day I came here. For me, that meant no more beatings, verbal abuse, and near starvation. When I was angry, I was unable to contain myself. For someone so young, my fury was not easily subdued.
My brothers listened to the rules more than their hearts. They did as she said, and didn’t think twice about it. As twins, their views on life were similar. They were tall and bony. Their pale brown hair was short and neat. They both looked like elder versions of me. They threw me in the dirt road, as impersonal as relatives could be. Being isolated was good for me, I suppose. I knew my anger was bad. No matter how hard I tried to be like the others, I could not do it. I just wasn’t the normal type of 8 year-old. I was mean and not at all obedient. It’s not like I tried to be bad, it just happened like that a lot.
My brothers harshly dropped me on the brick step by the entrance and they gripped the door together and slammed it. It had sounded like an earsplitting thunder clap. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped. I was shivering at once in the bitter January air. It was a lot quieter than the deafening orphanage cafeteria. It was early in the day, I noticed. I had all day to either sit and wait or do something interesting. I stood and rapped the dirt of my pants. I was sluggish as I walked along through the town on the dirty road. The sun was gradually rising in the horizon, but it was still hard to see through the thick clouds.
I found myself in the town center and just looking at the families that were happy made me miserable. I wondered if I could ever find anybody to love me. I shrugged and moved on through the busy Pennsylvania town. I passed what seemed like tons of houses and markets before it was even near noon. The temperature providentially rose as my day flew by faster than an eagle soaring over a river looking for a meal of salmon. I sat by a street corner for a while to rest my sore legs. I had been walking for a good 5 hours or so now. It seemed like years before the sun finally went down. I had nowhere to sleep so I staggered into the dark street corner. The sun fortunately wasn’t all of the way set so I could still see, but very little. I found a thrown out shirt with holes in it and I lay down in a pile of the trash. Tonight, the shirt with many holes would be my blanket. Tomorrow, I would go look for materials to make the street corner feel more like a home, but a lonely one.
I was running. Not for amusement either. I was running from angry dogs and angry people. “Gilroy! Get back here and face your punishment!” That was my wonderful name. I was Gilroy Henderson. I wasn’t from Britain and I wasn’t from the colonies. I was a foreigner from Germany. I wasn’t really supposed to be in Pennsylvania. I was a stow-a-away on a small ship here. Nobody at home in Oldenburg, Germany knew where I was. I assumed they were better off without me. My parents seemed to never to enjoy my company. As if I was a nuisance.
Did I get in this type of trouble a lot? Yes. My daily life consisted of innocent stealing (necessities such as food) and sleeping in the general store’s back room. Did I get into this major of trouble? No. The officials had found out that I came here without paying. My English was questionable at best, but I knew enough to ask where the bathroom was. I continued fervently running, and when I saw the perfect opportunity, I sharply turned into a street corner and hid. The mob ran past and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Who are you?” A voice inquired from a ways back from where I was.
The voice startled me and I jumped in surprise.
I luckily knew enough English to understand and answer. “W-who are you?” I stuttered. The boy stepped out. He looked about my age with honey-brown hair and fair skin. His sapphire eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“If I must introduce myself first, I’m Ace Crandall, and you are?”
My confidence came back hastily. “Gilroy Henderson. From Germany.”
“Are you here with your family?”
“No exact.”
“I know I heard dogs. Did you run away on a ship?”
“… Ja.”
“Well, you can stay with me then. Living alone has become a bore. We’ll keep each other out of danger. If you’re up to it.”
“Sure.”
Ace’s aura was like dynamite about to blow. As long as you didn’t aggravate him, he wouldn’t explode at you. If you did, the results were unthinkable. I was taught at a young age to please people; my mother was a maid, and my father a servant. I could tell as soon as I established a friendship with him that we were never going to argue.

He walked me around the corner (making sure no one could see us) and showed me a small area set aside for sleeping. A coarse blanket was laid upon the dirty ground, and an egg crate was used as a table. On it was a shiny gray necklace. It was absolutely gorgeous. I gasped slightly when I saw it. Ace looked over at me with a question on his face. I gestured toward the jewelry.
“Oh! That,” Ace exclaimed.
“Why not sell?” I asked.
Whenever my parents came across something that looked so expensive and beautiful, they immediately left to sell it to anyone who offered.
Also, since I have been “on the run” I would sell anything. I needed things, such as food and clothing, and getting money for things I simply found sounded like a good deal to me
Ace blushed. “It used to be my mom’s so…”
I didn’t question him any further. I had sensed the embarrassment
We told each other about our pasts. I recounted my story slowly, with the grammar of a 3 year old. I could tell he wasn’t very educated, but his knowledge expanded far more than books. Over the next months he taught me English so I was able to talk fluently, but I still could not get rid of my unique accent. Little did I know at the time that this stranger would soon become one of my best friends?
My father pushed me roughly out of the house and into the muddy undergrowth by our door. “You are no use to us, Arluin! Never come near here or else!” He was drunk and his eyes were glassy and red.
Mother shrieked out the dusty window, “Don’t let him back! He’s a waste of space, that boy!”
Father slammed our front door when he went back inside, but not before he struck me for the last time. My ears were bloody, and my head was pounding. My hazel eyes were watering, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of my pain. I got up onto my feet and slowly limped away.
My parents were frustrated with me because “I just couldn’t die”. They frequently attempted to murder me, but these were only attempts. I usually stayed barely alive, in a ditch somewhere, left for dead. Until I recovered, I would stay where I was, praying for death. It would ease the pain. Not only the kind my own parents had inflicted upon me, but the thoughts in my head made me suffer more. Why? I would repeatedly ask myself. I did not cost them money, I barely ate, and what I did was the neighbor’s scraps. I cleaned the house, I tried staying out of their way, but their undying hatred for me was evident in how they spoke to me, and their behavior around me. Father drunk himself into a stupor each night, and would hit me. He didn’t punch my mom because she would simply throw a knife at his head. I suspect they can only stand each other because their detestation of me was the only thing they had in common. They had never cared for me. I was a mistake to them. I pushed my bleached parting of my hair back away from my eyes to see clearly.
I heard the pigs from our neighbor’s pen snort. I tossed them some stale bread crumbs from my pockets. My parents may have hated me, but I was going to show people that I still cared for love. I kept walking and I saw 2 boys about my age across the street. They waved to me. I knew them, they were Ace and Gilroy.
They had been here as long as I had. Ace and Gilroy had interesting pasts. I could confide in them when my parents screamed things at me that I just couldn’t take in stride. Gilroy was from Germany, but he could speak English clearly. Ace was nice, but he was frightening at times. They waved me over. We were good friends, but I couldn’t compare with ay others. My parents didn’t let me. Ace and Gilroy knew my life was tough and I was guessing that it had been no secret of what had just happened. They knew when a troubled kid had just started a new life of misery. “Has it happened?” Ace asked. I knew what he meant.
“Yeah, they finally kicked me out for good.” They patted my back and Gilroy looked up at me.
“Welcome to the Rascals, brother!” That’s what they called themselves. They got the name from when my parents insulted them when they tried playing with me. We were going to be together for a while. I was glad to be with those who actually liked me.
“Arluin, can you go get us some bread from the market?” Ace asked. It had been a few months since I had joined the Rascals. I nodded and grabbed the change that was on top of the orange egg crate. I was walking past the Henry residence when I saw her. A girl our age that had been beaten, like I had, lived there. I knew her by the name of Colette. She had wispy pale blonde hair, and the bluest of eyes in the world. She was much shorter than me, but most people were. She was sitting on the curbside watching her house burn while men tried to put the flames out. The strange irony was how her eyes, the color of the sea, reflected the fiery red inferno that was engulfing her home.
I felt bad for her. She didn’t deserve this. Colette looked so innocent, so naïve. I knew what I had to do to be fair. Her light blonde hair was sparkled with water from the buckets thrown at her house. I knew how she felt, only not as bad. I turned and ran back to the street corner. “The girl from the Henry residence has been given the sign of misery.” I announced. That’s what we called it when we saw a person in need, and we would help them in any ways we could. Ace looked at me and grabbed my arm. He led me away from Gilroy, around the corner. Gilroy looked puzzled, but Ace seemed urgent.
“Arluin please let me take the credit for helping her. You know how I feel about her.” Ace begged me. I simply glared at him, his eyes were still pleading.
“I suppose, but it will be exposed before her death day.” I replied angrily. I nudged away from him and started walking away. He followed soon after.
I was only angry with him because it would not be honest. Sure, I had been raised in a deceitful family, but that doesn’t mean my moral compass had to be damaged from the start. My feelings for Colette were strange to me, but I tried not to think of it for long.
I sighed, and looked behind me to see Gilroy. The expression on his face screamed TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!! But he remained silent. I looked away from him. I knew I overreacted, but it felt wrong to lie to a young girl after such trauma.
I grunted at Gilroy, “Don’t ask.”
He looked at me weirdly, but started to walk with Ace.
We began to walk the cobblestone street in silence, Gilroy being the buffer between me and Ace. The sky was downcast, fitting the somber mood in the atmosphere. I sighed quietly, and slowed down. Ace and Gilroy stepped back to talk to me after I had stopped completely.












Chapter 1
The Epic Beginning
I closed my eyes. Maybe this was just a dream. Maybe my parents weren’t really dead in a burning house. None of this could be real. It must be real though because in dreams, I didn’t feel pain or sadness. I opened my eyes to see the flames burning through the now non-existent windows. I could already tell that people would come to take me to the orphanage where kids were starving, and canings were recurrent would be here to get me soon. I was sitting on the cobblestone street side, across from my burning house.
This was real. I knew now that my parents wouldn’t wake me in the morning like they used too. I knew that I was going to live a life I never thought I would. My life would be without a warm fire, clean dresses, and no one to take care of me. I never thought that at 8 years of age my parents would die such a tragic demise. I thought they would die of old age or natural causes such as plague. I couldn’t help but sob into my cold hands. Of course who wouldn’t cry if their parents were dead?
I had earned courage in my difficult struggle to get out of the brick townhouse. It had all started when mother forgot she was cooking lunch on the wood stove and was upstairs with father in the master bedroom. The food had burned up into flames and spread across the kitchen in a matter of what felt like seconds. I had been in the living room, reading a story in my storybook. I had smelled the flames and run upstairs to tell my parents. They didn’t listen, probably didn’t even hear. I decided to go try to stop the fire, but it was already spreading across the first floor and hit the staircase.
I then ran back upstairs to think or to make up a quick, rootless idea. I was almost certain I would die then with my parents. I wouldn’t give up though, not that easily. I had a life to live and that left me knowing I had one thing left to try. My bedroom was open so I ran into my small room, opened the window, and simply jumped. My room was in the back of the house, so I fell into the alley way. I had bruised my arm and at least twisted my ankle. I ran to the front and started to warn people. I yelled for my parents, but it was too late. I could see the flames through the windows, engulfing the 2nd floor.
I wondered if I was dead too. It was as if I was a ghost. Nobody stopped to talk to me. I had no resentment towards them. I probably looked hysterical, my face was tear stained, and my body was shaking violently. I saved myself. People around me were busy putting the fire out. I couldn’t help feel as if somebody was coming near me though.
I felt numb. It was as if my heart was a pile of ash. It was a brisk winter morning. It set the sad mood for the event that had just occurred. The sky was gray with clouds. I could tell it was going to snow soon. Adding the smoke from my house, the sky was darker gray. I held my dress around my legs to stay warm.
I was shocked. My brain was numb. Things were rolling in my head, but I could not yet assemble them to form a complete thought.
I took my hair out of my braid to cover my ears. I had scratches from the struggle to get out of the house, and black splotches on my skin from the large amounts of ash. I looked at my crumbling house again. It was slowly falling down to the ground, crumbling own. Red brick was falling apart. I saw my bed burn, where I was just minutes before. If I hadn’t ran at the time I did, I would have surely died. My hands were scorched from me grabbing doorknobs frantically trying to save myself. How could I be as selfish as to not sparing a thought of my parents? Who knew what would happen now? What was the outcome of my life?
My parents were not loving, as they had always expected the impossible of me. They were cruel, and many a nights consisted of me crying myself to sleep.. They had punished me for the smallest things. I think I loved them, I thought love was unconditional, but they would beat me constantly. My father restricted me from interacting with others. My mom was the worst; at least my father acknowledged my existence. She didn’t feed me, and I just had to find food on my own. With no money, this was rather difficult...
Just then, three boys walked next to me. I had seen them around before, but never talked to them. I was always being watched closely by my parents so it was hard to talk with anyone but myself.
The one with honey brown hair sat on the right side of me and the one with the natural blonde streaks in the front with black hair on the left. The one with long and limp black hair stood in front of me. I rubbed my icy blue eyes. “Who are you guys?” I asked trying my hardest to sound confident through my grief.
“We are the Rascals. My name is Ace. The one on your left is Arluin and the one staring at you in the front is Gilroy. Oh and by the way, Arluin’s hair doesn’t look natural because he fell into a bucket of bleach the other day. What is your name?”
“Well, thanks for the introduction and scaring me more than I am anyways. I am Colette.” Saying my name to somebody other than my parents was strange. Gilroy was starting to give me goose bumps. It was as if he was trying to figure out which side of a turkey leg to bite first. His pale skin and black hair was as if he had slept in a box of snow for 8 years. He was just sitting in front of me, staring.
“Does he always stare at people like that?” I asked.
“Gilroy, quit it! You are creeping her out!” Arluin laughed and slapped Gilroy’s shoulder lighter than he could have.
“Anyways, we all have tough pasts. We know yours. I was kicked out of an orphanage, Gilroy is a run-away German, and Arluin has nearly the same history as you.” Ace explained. He was very outgoing and not afraid to tell about himself or the others. I had never meant someone so willing to speak about himself or others. Of course, I barely spoke to anybody.
“Would you like to join the Rascals, Colette?” Arluin smiled hopefully. There was a glint in his eyes of doubt, but the amount of hope and will over ruled it easily.
I stayed silent, thinking about the possibilities. It was uncomfortable as the silence stayed longer and longer. Finally, Arluin broke the quiet. “C’mon Colette, it’ll be pleasurable. You won’t be in any danger.” He said, smiling and even for once he blinked. I could hear the German accent in his voice when he spoke. I would never get tired of that.
“Plus,” Ace started, “You won’t have to pay for a home and you won’t have to go to an orphanage. Taking up our offer will be worth it. I promise you that.” His eyes were now filled with the same hope that Arluin’s were. I thought through possibilities, struggling at the decision I had to make. It was either the orphanage or the boys I had just met.
“What are orphanages like?” I asked softly.
“The one that you’ll probably go to is the one I am from. Mrs. Beatrice is not nice and neither are a lot of the other kids there.” Ace shuddered at the thought of the orphanage which meant it had to be bad. Ace seemed like a tough kid, if he shuddered, you knew it was something non-pleasant and over abusive. This left me one choice.
“I suppose I could go with you guys then.” My reply was greeted by smiles wider than the Atlantic ocean and eyes happier than a lost puppy who just found it’s home again. The boys jumped up and started walking.
“C’mon, we’ll show you where we live and where you’ll sleep.” Arluin’s voice was filled of relief. I walked alongside them with no idea of where I’d be living for possibly my whole life. We walked and walked on the cobblestone walkway and finally turned. I was expecting a few boxes on the side of the road, but they had a whole street corner. It wasn’t the best place to live a lifetime, but it was most likely better than any orphanage. Possibly better than any other plan people had for my life. Maybe I would’ve been shipped off to live with my cousin, Patrick Henry, in Virginia. I didn’t want to take chances though.
“You can sleep back here, Colette.” I heard an unfamiliar voice. I looked around, lost at which way to go. “Colette…are you listening or are you suddenly deaf?” I stopped almost dead in my tracks. It was Gilroy speaking. I hadn’t heard him speak before so I was puzzled. He had a German accent, but he spoke fluent English. I was amazed at the talent. He was standing by a hammock about 2 feet off of the ground hanging down from wood planks that looked as if they had been there a while. “We had made an extra bed just in case somebody else came around so I guess something came in handy.” The hammock looked surprisingly comfy compared to what I had back home. I had a pillow and a blanket; no bed.
“Thank you, Gilroy; or I should say thank you to all of you.” I smiled considerately to the three boys standing near me. These boys were my family now. I had nobody else close enough or kind enough to take me in. Patrick was a lawyer, I wouldn’t be able to live a day at his house with his law talk and other rubbish or boring topics.
“No problem,” Ace smiled at me. Arluin’s eyes suddenly lit up with an idea obviously pulsing through the gray matter in his skull.
“Why don’t we get dinner the Rascal’s style, Gilroy?” It seemed that he was trying to ignore Ace’s presence. Possibly they were not friends. Ace was acting normally though, so he had to like Arluin. Maybe something had happened that upset Arluin, but didn’t really bother Ace.
“Perfect idea, Arluin! What should we get?” Ace smiled even wider than before.
“How about some…hmmm…bread and cheese!” Gilroy added into the smiling group of boys.
“Do you like bread and cheese, Colette?” Arluin looked over at me. His eyes were truly brown and popped with his mysterious bleached hair.
“I’ve never tried cheese or bread, let alone together.” I replied, trying to ignore the wild gaze the boys were now giving me.
“You’ve never tasted bread and cheese? You must try it today, soon, as soon as we get it.” Gilroy responded finally.
“Okay, Colette, you stay here and wait. It started snowing so it’s best you stayed here.” Ace told me, closing the cloth curtain we used as an entrance/exit. Arluin and Gilroy nodded and followed out into the cold outdoors of the town. With the area left with only one person in, it felt more airy and better. They had made a roof of spare wood over us about 10 or 15 feet up into the air. They had blocked out every opening with cloth or wood. They had a small pit for fires, a few small cabinets and containers for food and water, and different trunks near different “rooms”. I could tell who owned which room pretty easily.
Ace’s room was surrounded by navy blue cloth and a few bricks to hold it down in the far left corner or the area we had. Inside was a trunk with the initials: ALC (Ace Lee Crandall). His bed was lifted by bricks and wood. The actual bed was an old mattress with varied colored blankets. He had a few books surprisingly and an oil lamp or two.
Gilroy’s room was surrounded by red and black cloth and it was on the far right corner. Inside, his trunk had the initials carved into it that read: GKH (Gilroy Kuno Henderson). His bed was a hammock like mine only his was a different type of cloth and a different color. He had a pillow like mine, but his was actual white. He had a few blankets on it. He had nothing extra except a few pieces of dirty clothing on the dirt floor. He had a portrait on his wall. It was an elderly lady wearing an apron, 3 little girls, a tall boy, an elderly man, and a boy about 3 feet tall sitting in the grass. As I looked closely, the boy had jet black hair and harshly pale skin. That little 3-foot boy was Gilroy Kuno Henderson.
Arluin’s room was next to Ace’s and surrounded by dark green cloth. His trunk had the initials painted skillfully that read: ACP (Arluin Cionaodah Pierce). I was stuck wondering why and what his middle name meant. “Wondering about my middle name?” I heard a sudden voice sound behind me. I jumped in shock to see Arluin leaning against the piece of metal holding the wires that were holding up the clothing strings.
“Yeah, just a bit curious. Can you tell me about it?” I replied curiously. He nodded and motioned me to sit on his bed. He sat next to me, not touching of course. He seemed a bit gloomy to tell the story.
“My parents tried to kill me all of the time when I was with them. They did plenty of things to me, including dunking me in a bucket of bleach. That’s the way my hair became this color. They tried to get me to kill myself too. They got pretty close to succeeding with murder and making me do suicide plenty of times. My life was a living Hell, sorry for the language. They didn’t even care enough to give me a middle name. I got to choose just when I got the chest too. I chose Cionaodah because it means ‘born of fire’ in Irish, where I’m from. It means lot’s of things to me though. I’ve gone through the storm a millions of times. It means that I can live through almost anything and that I have tenacity. It was also my grandfather’s name. His parents were abusive too. He was my best friend until he died.” I found myself hugging Arluin and crying at the end of the story.
It was a bit awkward, I admit, but he hugged back. I even heard a quiet snuffle from him. He really did almost the same past as I did. “I know partially how you feel, although my parents just ignored me, your parents tried to murder you. I’m so sorry you went through that, Arluin.”
“Life is life. It’s not always fair, but there are upsides to it at times; you just have to have the patience to find them.” I took those words and kept them with me. I thought about just earlier when my house caught fire and my parents died. That had given me a feeling of sadness, but relief. These boys, Ace, Gilroy, and Arluin, were my saviors. That had been a happy moment. Arluin and I, we lived 8 years being abused or ignored. We were filled with strength, tenacity, and patience. We waited and waited, praying for one of those rare upsides to appear out of the blue.
Ace had gone through death and terrifying fights to finally leave and find Gilroy. That had been his upside. Gilroy, he had run away from his home, stowed away on a naval ship, and landed here where he found his upside which was finding Ace. We were a group of strong 8 year-olds. No matter how young and ignorant we were, we had waited and fought and done things we never though would happen. We weren’t just any kids; we were the Rascals and we found our silver linings. “Why don’t we go eat and then finish your room off by carving your names in?” Arluin asked suddenly, but quietly. I nodded thankfully and we got up. Arluin lifted the flip of his room. His bleached hair was in his brown eyes.
Ace and Gilroy were waiting patiently outside of our rooms at the table with light colored cheese and wheat bread cut out into thin slivers. “And what were you two doing?” Gilroy asked slyly.
“Just talking about things that aren’t to be discussed anymore,” Arluin replied calmly. Ace and Gilroy exchanged looks and finally nodded after what felt like years of awkward stillness. Arluin motioned me to sit in a wooden chair by the table. As I sat down, the others did too. Ace took 4 slices of bread and passed them around the table; Gilroy passed the cheese out.
“Now that the Rascals are complete with 4 members, we need to do something to seal us together.” Ace said.
“How about we each give each other something?” Gilroy proposed.
“That’s good, let’s do it.” We all nodded and went to our rooms for a moment or two. I had saved luckily 4 things from the house unintentionally. I had saved my father’s watch when it caught on my dress, a small badge from my father when he served in the British army, my father’s ring that his best friend gave him when they were separated and my father came to the colonies, and a portrait of my family. I decided to keep the portrait, but give the others. I walked out of my room after collecting my gifts and sat back down in my chair. Gilroy was already there waiting with his things.
Ace and Arluin came out of their rooms 4 minutes or so later. Ace was first so he gave out the things. A little red, white, and blue badge was given to Arluin, another button was given to Gilroy, and a broche with a bird on it was given to me. We thanked Ace and moved on to Gilroy. Gilroy handed out a copper jacket button made in Germany to Arluin, a German leather jacket to Ace, and a glass rose to me. We thanked him and moved on to me. I took my possessions and passed them out. I gave the watch to Gilroy, the badge to Ace, and the ring to Arluin. They thanked me gratefully and we moved on to Arluin. He gave Gilroy a bracelet that was weaved by himself with strings and could save a life if somebody fell down a hill, a different colored one to Ace, and a silver pendant to me that looked almost identical to the one Ace had, but this one had flowers designed on it.
“Arluin, this is extraordinary, where did you find it?”
“The same place my mother got hers.” Ace answered for Arluin.
“Yes, our mothers were friends, even if they didn’t agree on punishments and such. They got them together.” Arluin added. Gilroy was being very nonchalant with his feet up on the table, but the calmness left after he leaned back and he flipped off the back of the chair. We were all left laughing harder and louder than ever. Gilroy got up slowly and had his hand on the back of his head, laughing.
“Are you okay, Gilroy?” I asked, trying to hold back laughter.
“Yeah, I hit my head though.” He started laughing, which meant it was okay for all of us to laugh. I still couldn’t help wonder if this was my entire life, but it didn’t matter; it would be an extremely amusing.





















Chapter 2
I Swallow My Humbleness and Let the Boys
Celebrate My Birthday
Here we were, already at my 17th birthday. I was of course the youngest out of us, ironically enough. The eldest of us was Ace, then it was Gilroy, then it was Arluin, then me. Even if Arluin was younger the Gilroy, he still loomed over him like a town by a mountain. Ace was now 6’1, Gilroy was at 6’2, I was at 5’6, and Arluin was like a giant at 6’4. We strongly believed he wasn’t done growing. I had established with the guys that I didn’t want any presents and I wasn’t going to get any. They respected it after a few small arguments. They had at first insisted on giving me gifts, but I rejected. There were better uses of money than giving me presents.
Ace’s birthday had been in January, which had been extremely cold this year; Gilroy’s birthday was in March, which was very stormy; Arluin’s birthday had been in June, which been almost too hot for me and Gilroy; my birthday was today, July 4th, 1774. It had been a delightful day so far. We had gone out to the woods, outside of the town and had picked berries, climbed trees, and other fun like scaring travelers on their way into town. It was simple how we did it: Gilroy would be in a tree above them, Ace would sneak from the back and climb under it and hold on to give Gilroy, me and Arluin (who was on the left side of the path, I was on the right) the signal to jump out and scare the travelers.
Gilroy had made the wittiest faces when he landed on the horses or the front of the carriages; I was almost certain that it felt like a belly flop into a creek, but only on metal. It was hilarious to watch the people jump or scream in terror; not because we liked scaring them half to death, but the enjoyment I guess. The Pennsylvania trees were fully leafed in July and it made it grim for Arluin to breathe. He had bad allergies to pollen. I felt miserable for him. He tried to have fun, but he had a ghastly cough. Most of the time he had to stay in the street corner to rest. This was one of his few weaknesses.
To the present, Britain was pushing the colonies to the very edge of patience. We had gotten a bit of revenge last year in 1773 when we dunked a great deal of tea into the Boston Harbor. Gilroy and Ace had almost too much fun pushing wooden crates filled with British tea in a huge body of water. The reason we did this? Simply because of the Tea Act. The Tea Act made taxes on British tea. The reason Ace, Arluin, Gilroy, and I had gone to support it? It really was fun pushing wooden crates into water and it made the fish in the water plenty happy. We also did it because we somehow got into politics to due with Britain. I guess it was because of my cousin being one of the first radicals. It ran in my blood to rebel and go for what I believed in. We weren’t the biggest fans of tea which was the reason we did it.
We were in the woods at the moment. “Colette, we should probably head back now. Arluin is probably dying over there.” Ace told me, looking over at where Arluin and Gilroy were standing by a path. Arluin was coughing rapidly. I nodded worriedly to Ace and so we all walked back to the town center where Arluin started sneezing too. He had a snot rag fortunately. The town center was busy with people swarming the news stand and the food markets. Two figures approached us slowly; one in a pink and white dress and the other in nearly the same clothes as the guys.
“Hello Stark, Elizabeth, how are you?” Gilroy asked, trying to keep his temper with Elizabeth. She was always snooty and rotten to me.
“We are well, and you boys?” Elizabeth replied, snickering the last words. It was obvious that she fancied Gilroy, Arluin, and Ace. She always smiled sweetly and acted innocent around her. They didn’t fall for it at all.
“We are well, but as you can see Arluin’s allergies are acting up.” Ace said at the exact moment that Arluin sneezed.
“Oh poor darling, you sound like a kitten when you sneeze!” Elizabeth said while approaching Arluin with another rag. She aimed for his face, but Arluin dodged it by backing up.
“NOWORRIESIAMFINELETUSGOGUYS,” Arluin said deafeningly and quickly and walked away quickly. Ace and Gilroy and I started laughing and hurried after him. He was tall and took very long strides as he dodged skillfully through the town towards the street corner, sneezing or coughing every five seconds or so. We finally reached the street corner and walked in. “Fucking pollen!” Arluin grumbled.
We sat down around the table, Gilroy, Ace, and I still laughing. “Trust me, Arluin, if we could take pollen away from everywhere we would.” Ace said, holding back laughter.
“…Do I really sneeze like a kitten?” Arluin asked shyly.
“YES.” The three of us said at once. Arluin puffed his cheeks out as if he were a frog…or a fish. This had easily been the bet birthday yet. The soft yellow sun was dipping below the looming apartment buildin. We sat ate the dinner table to talk while resting.
“What should we have for dinner?” I asked naturally.
“Maybe we should go to a tavern tonight. You know, to celebrate.” Ace suggested mordantly. He knew I hated being the reason for something.
“I think Colette is humble to do that. She hates being the center of attention even if its boy related attention.” Gilroy said from the chair beside me. I reached over and willingly pushed his chair over and he fell out of it; I acted like nothing happened and held my smile with pride.
“Well too bad. She has to be celebrated somewhere at sometime at least once. Tonight we are going to the diner to eat dinner and we are going to celebrate Colette.” Ace declared.
“Darn.” I said without hope of getting out of it. When Ace declared something, the others usually always agreed and made it happen. I swallowed my humbleness and we walked out of the corner to eat at a tavern. The sun was still out enough to see. We walked to a small brick building a few blocks away from the street corner. This was the tavern. We walked into the small building and headed to a table by the window. The table had 4 seats, 2 on each side. Gilroy sat next to me, Arluin across from me, and Ace next to Arluin. A man in a floured apron came to us.
“Hello, what can I get you folks?” The man asked kindly.
“Whatever cheapest and tasty,” Ace replied.
“Okay.”
After the meal and we were back in the corner, we went to sleep easily. I hadn’t had a meal like that since before I was born.








Chapter 3
Pushed Too Far
It was March 21st and we were heading to see my cousin, Patrick, for the first time in ages. He had invited us to a meeting in Virginia so we decided to go for him; to support him. I knew it was either exciting or the most boring thing in the history of the Rascals. We mounted horses that were gifted to us by Ace’s brother, who was now a farm owner with plenty of strong sturdy horses. He had given us each one that fit each of us. He had given Ace a strong Red Taffy colored Mare named Sweetie. She was a strong girl and I honestly thought they were a perfect team. They wouldn’t give up on each other. Arluin was given a Seal Brown Stallion named Jefferson. Gilroy was given a Black ‘Blue’ Roan Stallion named Riston. I was given a Dapple Gray Mare named Fleta. We all had bonds with our horses… except for Gilroy and Riston. They were so much alike that it was as if one sibling was a Loyalist and the other was a patriot and you locked them into the same room.
“Colette, are you ready to go?” Ace asked. I replied by nodding silently. “Arluin, are you ready?”
“Yes, Ace, I’m always ready for anything and everything.” Arluin replied.
“Okay, Gilroy, are you ready?” Gilroy was fighting with Riston. Riston hated the bit in his mouth. Gilroy held up one finger. He finally to Riston to stop and said sarcastically, “NAW, I just got Riston calmed down for nothing. OF COURSE I’M READY TO GO ARE YOU INSANE! I’M ALWAYS READY…except for when Riston kicks me…” Ace’s, Arluin’s, and my eyes were all nearly wider than possible.
“Alright…then…let’s go…” Ace managed. Ace took the lead with Sweetie. Without a single possible doubt, those two would perish together. They were tighter than the knot holding the Shopkeeper’s trousers up. The sunlight of the early morning shined down on us just enough to keep us warm. One thing I enjoyed most was the fresh air of the forests of Pennsylvania. I was the third in line, with Arluin behind me, Gilroy in front of me. Arluin and Jefferson were good partners, like me and

There are supposed to be seperaters between a few of the paragraphs in the prologue. One between but a lonely one. & I was running. And another between one of my best friends? & My father pushed me.

Woahh so cool!

Thanks!

I made a chapter story area if you want to put it there(:

Ohhh ya I didnt notice it went here. I was looking for it and was like "Where'd that silly thang goo?"

haha(:

how do i move it??? lol

I'll do it(:

Thanks! I just somehow got a publishing consultant

Woah woah woah. Woah.
What!?

IKR! I just like checked my email one day after I was looking at possiblities of publishing now somehow I'm affiliated with Xlibris publishing with a consultant

That's good for you.

thanks!