A Bunch of Random Scenes I Wrote for My Book(s)

Remember Me

He looks at me and every bit of my body shatters all at once, leaving me in jagged pieces on the floor. Just as I manage to assemble my shards, he says,

"So I guess this is goodbye." His voice is quiet, almost timid. Half of my shards drop again. I'm slipping. Quickly. In an attempt to recover, I stutter to reply:

"I guess s-" My voice breaks into a sob and the rest of my pieces crash. Slowly crumbling, I follow. My ears are ringing as he wraps his arms around me. He whispers something over and over again until I can hear it. Even then I only catch part of his sentence before he stops talking. "for you." The government official who greeted us at the door re-enters the room ceremoniously. I look up and take a gasping breath.

"One more minute." He states gruffly. He turns diligently and leaves. I cling to Charlie, and we sit silently for the remainder of our time together. Neither of us care that these may be our last moments with each other. Soon, the man we both were praying wouldn't come back, entered the room once again. He still spoke in an assertive tone but with a hint of apology this time. How annoying. He has no clue how I'm feeling. I don't want his pity or sympathy.

"It's time to go Ms. Charter." He looks at me as he delivers this demand. I must've tuned him out. When his words register, a switch flips in my brain.

"No." I reply simply. "You can't make me." Charlie looks shocked, eyebrows up, jaw down. The officer gives me a look as if to say, "Of course I can." His large hands wrap around my shoulders and I start to kick. If I shatter, he won't be able to put me back together. I think. So, I force myself into tiny pieces again, and my head rushes toward the carpet. I'm barely caught by Charlie's thin arms. The sight of them breaks me down further. The small shards of my being are getting harder to catch. I'm thrown upward by a pair of dry, strong hands. Stumbling to get my bearings, I lock eyes with Charlie. My Charlie. Suddenly, the image of him in front of me changes. He is battered and bruised, his midnight black hair caked with blood, flattening his curls. His eyes are unblinking. He's about as alive as the extravagant light fixture above him, yet he's still standing.

Just as fast as the image had appeared, it was gone. And he is normal again. No cuts or bruises, not so dangerously skinny. His eyes are blinking and fixed on me with concern. Is that how he'll end up in the hands of these people? I'm too stunned to notice the tears sliding slowly down my cheeks. I can't imagine how I look right now. Before I know it, the officer turns me around and leads me to the door.

"Joey."

Charlie's voice is desperate and I jerk my head toward him. The guard forces my head forward again and I wince. His grip tightens and I start to struggle uselessly against him. He tightens even more. More and More. I'm screaming in pain. We're crossing through the doorway.

"Joey I just want you to know that I'll be ba-"

The door slams shut. And I know he won't be back.

In case you didn't read the description of this book, this is a reminder that these are just scenes I have written for my book out of order. It's just so I can get the crucial elements of my story down and organize them when I'm ready. - Emma <3