Second Chances

Chapter 1: New Friend

So, hi. Like I said before, no idea how often this is going to be updated. I actually have another chapter ready already, but I want to finish chapter 3 before I post it (does that make sense? I hope so). Just a heads up, I actually have both books already planned out. This one is...Well, it's going to be 50 chapters (and I'll have a QnA at the end if I gain a following, which is unlikely, but, YOU KNOW, IT'S FINE). I'll also be putting when exactly things take place, at least for the first few chapters. Not the year or anything, but you'll see what I mean. 

By the way, just for reference, Anastasia's rebirth happens in 1975, so there won't be a whole lot of technology for most of the first book. Anyway~ This takes place from Anastasia's point of view, and it should (note that should, I might change my mind) stay that way for the whole book.

These chapters are going to be shorter than the prologue, but I didn't want to group them together because that would be really confusing, so let's go.

Much Love, Krissy

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Sixth Grade:

There are nearby sniggers as I start eating my lunch. As I look up, I spot a table of boys and girls, laughing at a lonely boy with curls. I recognize him. He's always drawing in class. His face is hidden by his hair, but I can tell by his posture that he's upset. He's staring at an empty table. My eyes fall to the ground around it. Pages of his sketchbook have been ripped out, drawings covered up and destroyed by black marks. I stand up.

"Ana?" Felicity asks. I watch the dejected boy collect the remnants of his book and hurry from the lunch room.

"I...Am not hungry," I say. I gather my things from the ground and pick up my tray, dumping all the food on my way out. I follow him to the art room, where I can see him weeping silently. I slowly and quietly put my bag down and clear my throat. He immediately stiffens.

"It's John Laurens, isn't it? That is your name?" I ask, trying to push down my French accent. He sniffles and nods. I slowly move to sit next to him.

"I'm Anastasia," I say. He wipes the tears off his cheeks before looking at me.

"I know," he says. I smile slightly, before frowning again.

"I saw what they did to your sketches. It was...Wrong. Cruel. You do not deserve that," I say. He looks back down.

"It's not your fault," he says softly. He looks so distant and sorrowful that it hurts.

"Non, but it is not fair. No one deserves the treatment they give to you," I say, placing a gentle hand against his arm. He looks at me for a moment, before his eyes drop to stare at the hand on his arm.

"It's just because I'm different. People don't like what they don't understand, so they...They treat me like that," he says. My frown deepens.

"It is South Carolina...The people here have never been accepting of those who are different. The only reason we live here is because of mon père - that is, my father - has family here. They were not so accepting of me when I moved here in the fifth grade," I say, French accent heavy, especially when I slip up into my native tongue. John looks at me.

"You know, even with the accent, sometimes I forget you're French," he says, smiling slightly. I sigh and roll my eyes, propping my head up on the table.

"Oui, but only half. No offense to you, but I much prefer the French to Americans. I wish I had a French father. Perhaps he wouldn't make me live in this place," I say. He laughs a little, and I smile and giggle with him. I'm glad I could make him smile. I smile at him for a moment, before tucking one of his curls behind his ear.

"Would you like to be friends, John?" I ask. He looks away for a moment, biting his lip.

"Do you really want to be friends with the gay kid?" he asks. I tilt my head.

"What is...I do not think that is a word translated into French. What does it mean?" I ask. He swallows.

"I'm not attracted to girls. I like...Other boys," he says softly. My gaze softens.

"Why would that matter? I do not care if you like other boys or if you like girls. You should have a friend," I say, smiling sweetly. He eyes me warily for a moment, before smiling.

"Okay. Let's be friends," he says. I laugh and clap. In this moment, I immediately decide that I will love and protect John for as long as he needs me to, no matter what happens.

"So, do you want a new sketchbook? Or- Oh, oh! Do you want to see one of mine?!"

Okay, so. Much shorter. Less than 830 words short. How the mighty have fallen, eh? These will vary in length. When I have more to tell in a chapter, they'll be longer. It's fine. I promise to post more chapters soon. Again, I don't own any Hamilton characters, only Anastasia. Anyway, gonna go do stuff.