The Runaway • 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦

Prologue

The Runaway
Prologue

♕♡︎♔

TW: mentions of blood, death, war and suicide.

America 1914-1919

Charlotte Rose Moore was both blessed and cursed.

At least that's what she was told at the young age of seven years old by her mother, Roselyn. Her mother taught her a lot but that always stuck out to her.

Her mother was a strong and beautiful woman, kind but assertive. Charlotte admired her greatly. She always told her the truth and never distinguished her ever curious mind about the ways of the world. Roselyn knew that her daughter was special, not in the sense that every child is special just because they are but because Charlotte carried a light, a beacon inside of her that shined even brighter than the sun, the moon, and the stars. She knew it the night she was born when the whole family had cried tears of joy, including her older brother Daniel, though he would never admit it.

Charlotte saw the good in everyone and everything, even if there wasn't much good to see. She never judged others based on their background, where they came from nor the color of their skin, which had always been an issue in America.

Which is exactly how she met her best friend Sarah Jacobs. Sarah was a blessing in Charlotte's life. From the day they met they were inseparable, they were like sisters and they looked out for each other, always.

They met at the age of seven when Charlotte was playing in the local park on a breezy day in late October while her father was in a business meeting a few blocks away. Her mother was feeding the ducks near the pond and Charlotte got approached by a nervous dark skinned girl who introduced herself as Sarah Jacobs and asked if she wanted to play.

Charlotte didn't have many, if any, friends besides her brother who didn't really count so she gladly accepted and they started playing tag together. They were having fun, playing and laughing together till a group of boys and girls took notice of them. They started making making rude comments towards Sarah, asking why Charlotte would want to hang out with someone like her. Charlotte didn't understand and immediately defended Sarah and once they started calling her racist slurs, she started throwing fist. She had an older brother and while they were close they were still brother and sister and had gotten in plenty of fights, which included screaming, punching, biting and kicking. Charlotte soon learned how to handle herself both with words and fist against a man or a woman.

Roselyn, who was nearby feeding the ducks, noticed Charlotte's swinging fist as well as yelling and quickly intervened telling the kids to leave with a warning of telling their families. They ran off startled and bruised and Charlotte's mother was at a loss for words as she looked at Sarah who looked awed. No one had ever stood up for her like that before. Roselyn looked back at her daughter who was glaring fiercely at the other children as they ran off, as if her stare could send them straight to hell for what they had said before bursting into frustrated tears wondering out loud how people could be so cruel to someone for their background or the color of their skin. That's when Roselyn knelt down in front of her daughter and took her fisted hands and opened them facing upwards, reading the lines and indents made from her nails. After looking at her palms her mother looked up into the girls eyes and knew what she was seeing deep in her irises.