Hi! I’m so excited to write this! So, in one of my recent posts (https://forbogart.edublogs.org/2021/01/26/the-swan/) I give you guys a blurb of this story I’m writing, The Swan. And here, instead of just sharing the document with y’all, I wanted to post every chapter of The Swan here. And also, I won’t be hard-core editing any of this, I’ll just be writing out the chapters and then copying and pasting them here. Once I’m done editing I will send y’all the document. One more thing, when I update this page I don’t think it gives any sign of it on the main blog page, every time I post something normal on the main page I will (at the very bottom of the post) put a little note that says something along the lines of, “Hey! I posted another chapter of The Swan!” You may now begin the journey:
Prologue
Every person has a story, whether they’re boy or girl, black or white, blond or brunette, short or tall.
In some stories, their parents are the problem. Beating them or verbally abusing them. Too strict or too soft. Maybe they didn’t even have parents.
Other stories are of family member dying.
I even heard about someone’s sister going through depression.
All of these things are real, and they are out there. And they’re hurting people. But my story is different. My story happens to a lot of people, but it doesn’t end in the way you think.
In the beginning, I’m bullied, ignored, underestimated, overlooked. I don’t get homework done. I don’t participate in any sports. And I don’t get along with anyone except my best friend, Jenny Camron.
But in the end, well… I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you…
Chapter 1
“Hey!” My mom storms into my room, holding my report card for last semester. Her face is beet-red and her eyes are bulging out of her head. “What is wrong with you?!”
“If you want to sustain a healthy relationship with your daughter, you’d try saying something along the lines of, ‘hey, do you need help in school? Why are your grades so low?’” I mumble in an oddly polite tone.
She waves the papers in my face. “How dare you disgrace your family!”
I roll my eyes and stand up from the cushioned chair I was reading in. She huffs angrily, partly confused as to why I am showing no concern, but doesn’t want to seem vulnerable.
Humphrey, the three year old West Highland Terrier waddles in and yips at me. My mother glares down at him and scoffs, for a second I’m afraid she’ll hurt him.
“Get your grades up or your father and I are disowning you!” She screams in my face, disregarding Humphrey’s ear sensitivity. I stare after her as she stomps out and starts yelling at my dad in the hallway.
Humphrey still stares at me expectantly, he wants to go on a walk. Smiling, I put a few dog treats in my satchel and yank open my window. Since my bedroom is on the first floor, I always sneak out.
Once my shoes hit the ground I snap for Humphrey to climb up onto the chair next to the window. He hops up easily and puts his paws on the windowsill, wagging his tail.
Time slows down as I stare in his eyes. I bite my lip and try to keep from crying. But the salty water finally floods my eyes and they’re falling down my cheeks. Humphrey’s tail droops and he bends his ears back. And with a leap he’s on the ground next to me, jumping up onto my leg and whining.
I bend down and hug him, he has a sympathetic twinkle in his eye, which makes me cry even more.
My head hurts from all the pain I have to go through every day with the kids at school, my teachers, and my parents. I’ve been bullied for as long as I can remember, abused, beaten, slapped, insulted. I beg the teachers to help but they only find ways to bring up my missing assignments.
I was at the end of my rope before my Aunt Wren bought me Humphrey for my thirteenth birthday, wriggling around in my arms. My parents did not approve, but I promised them I’d take care of her myself. And I have. For three years I’ve taken care of him like he was my very own child.
Once he’s sure I’m okay, Humphrey bounds out of my arms and across the backyard, his long fur flying freely behind him.
“I need to groom him again.” I mumble to myself, and chase after him.
Chapter 2
Walking down the trail behind my house, I watch curiously as Humphrey trots along next to me, refusing to stop unless I do. The loyalty that resonates from him pounds at my heart, making it throb. I wonder if he’s my only real friend.
Out of thankfulness, I pause to let him rest, and search through my bag to pull out a couple treats for him. He looks at me with big, dark brown eyes and perks up his ears curiously.
“Alright Humph.” I kneel and hold the treats above him. “Sit.”
He’s familiar with this word, and shoves his rump into the dirt excitedly, earning a hearty chuckle from my lips. I feed him each treat individually so he knows how many he’s eating. Good boy, I think, scratching behind his ears.
Suddenly I hear a symphony of aww’s coming from behind. Looking around, I spot two small girls running towards me. Following them are a happy looking father and mother, and after them is a boy with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatshirt. He seems uninterested in Humphrey—which I appreciate—and fascinated by the nature surrounding the trail.
Most of the time, only newcomers have their chins up and are observing everything. The people who already live here have their heads down; they’ve seen it all.
I scoop Humphrey up before the girls attack him with cooing and squeezing and petting. The entire family has already approached close enough, so I have to at least make conversation.
“New here?” I ask, my eyes darting from the parents to the boy. He looks about my age, reddish-brown hair, gloomy grey eyes, and around six feet tall. The only thing I find I have in common with him is the love for the color black, considering the fact that he’s covered in it, and that we both have auburn hair.
“Yes, actually!” The mother says, looking at me curiously.
“We moved from Toronto, Canada.” Adds the father breathily, and bends over to put his hands on his knees.
The two girls still run up to me making high-pitched noises for Humphrey, but the boy steps forward and stops them. Suddenly the girls sprint away into the bushes and the parents race after them in annoyance.
The boy doesn’t follow, and instead walks over to me. Now, with his face completely unobscured I see that he’s actually quite attractive.
“Sorry about that, my family is…” He looks back at where they all disappeared into the forest. “Weird…”
“Yeah.” With a nervous laugh I set Humphrey on the ground in trust that he wont react the same way his sisters did.
“I’m Jay.” The boy holds out his hand. “Jay Mitchell.”
“Celeste Robinson.” I reply, taking his hand and shaking it lightly. At the touch of our skin he pauses to turn my hand over. Confused and seriously concerned, I try pulling my hand away but he traces his finger along the grooves of my palm.
“I know how to palm read, so is this okay?”
I let out a relieved sigh and nod, shoving my other hand into my pocket. I watch as he follows the lines in my hand with his eyes. Finally he squeezes it reassuringly and looks up.
“Apparently, your strife will come to an end soon.” He mumbles, gazing into my eyes. I slide my hand out of his and tilt my head.
“Is that all?”
“Well, that’s the most noticeable thing.”
I smirk and look down at Humphrey, who seems like he does not like the presence of Jay Mitchell. With his strong, defensive Westie stance he looks adorable. The trees start casting long shadows across the ground, indicating the sun is almost to the horizon. Autumn came early this year, and it seems the days are, even in the midst of the bright and colorful foliage, getting shorter.
Jay gives me a curious glance with those silver eyes and takes a deep breath of the crisp, salty air. He turns to face the ocean waves, which tickle the beach just behind a line of trees.
“What’s your dog’s name?” He asks, crouching down to hold the back of his hand out for Humphrey to smell.
“Humphrey.” I reply, smiling at their sudden bond as Humphrey warily snuffles his skin. Feeling awkward at the fact that Jay is way below my height at the moment, I create an excuse to bend down as well. I “accidently” drop a bobby pin on the ground and go to pick it up, but then I find myself only inches away from Jay’s face, and immediately regret my actions.
As if it’s a competition to see who can stay there the longest, we just sit and study each other’s faces, lost.
Finally I decide to give up first place and straighten my legs again. He stands too, but slowly, as if trying to process what just happened. A big gust of wind puffs up Humphrey’s fur and causes a small clump of leaves nearby to swirl up into the air. Jay clears his throat and smiles.
“Well, hope you enjoy the rest of your walk.” I stumble over my words anxiously and start rushing back home, with Humphrey on my heels.
“Wait!” He calls, and I hesitate to turn around. But another gust of wind does it for me. “What school do you go to?”
“Brown Highschool.” I refrain a sigh and look hard into his eyes, now confused as to why he’d want to know.
“Good, I’ll see you there.” And with that he starts to run in the direction of his family. I stare at the spot he was standing and ponder the meaning of our encounter. I’ve never really befriended a boy before.
Chapter 3
The screaming of my parents argument echoes through the house and probably into the neighbor’s. Before the police come to see what all the yelling is about, I yank the throw blanket off my bed and situate it in my closet for Humphrey to hide away from my mom in. I fill a container of water and put it next to the blanket, along with a little bowl of wet food in hope that he will self-regulate his eating throughout the day.
Then, squeezing in the book I’m reading next to all the new school supplies my aunt helped me buy, I grab the hidden key from behind my mirror and lock my door as an extra measure to protect Humphrey from witnessing any yelling.
Here’s the thing, my room used to be the foyer for the house, but in the reconstruction, a lot of things changed, except the doggy door in the wall behind my chair. My parents have forgotten about it, so they haven’t boarded it up. So I push the chair out of the way and unhook the doggy door latch for Humphrey to pass in and out as he pleases.
I plant a kiss between his ears and struggle out my window. My backpack catches on a corner and sends me rolling out ungracefully, landing hard on my rear.
Right at that moment, Jenny Camron unlocks the back gate and walks in to see me sprawled out on the grass. She lets out a hysterical laugh and runs to help me up.
“I can tell.” She starts, wiping away tears from her wheezing laughter. “This is going to be a day to remember.”
Jenny Camron, the book nerd who has a tendency to sass off to people whenever she pleases. She loves the term, “cheez its!” as a replacement for “Jesus!” She never takes no for an answer and she takes the fact that she is black pridefully, as one should.
Her frizzy dark hair puffs out in a stylish afro.
“Wow, nice hairdo Jen!” I stare in awe at her luscious head. “They’ll probably need to back up the camera on picture day to get your whole head in!”
She chuckles and peeks into my room at Humphrey snoring peacefully in my closet. With an adoring smile she turns back towards me and grabs my elbow.
“Ready for your first day of sophomore year?” She chirps, pulling at her white sweater. Jenny is the type that shows even the smallest bit of confidence she has as a huge portion, no matter how afraid or nervous she is.
“You bet!” I break out in a huge smile and we go skipping back down the yard and out into the alley way.
¯
First part of the first day of school is the back-to-school assembly. We’ve already received our schedules through email, so all that’s left is the welcome gift, a comedic impression of what this school year is going to be like.
“Hello all!” Our principal, Mr. Baker, steps out in a medieval knight armor and waves his hand high. Jenny chokes in a burst of laughter next to me. “It is my honor and duty to assure that you have a—”
Suddenly his child, three-year-old Betsy, runs across the stage and gives him a big hug. A chorus of aww’s echoes across the cafeteria. The principal disregards the interruption and continues with his speech, where he gives us a grand recollection of the memories we developed last year and the memories we’ll end with this year. He welcomes the freshman and bids a wonderful last year of high school to the seniors.
Somewhere through the middle of the assembly I clutch my stomach.
“Uh oh, are you riding the crimson wave?” Jenny imitates Cher Horowitz from the movie Clueless and cringes.
I shake my head, attempting to glare at her. Then a stab of pain shoots through my abdomen and I know I’m having another allergic reaction.
By the time I finally get to the bathroom, the pain is unbearable. I scramble into one of the toilet stalls and slam open the seat. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to pretend this is all an act. It’s all something I can stop. But I can’t.
I don’t bother pulling back my bright red curls as they bounce around my face happily, despite the torture I’m being put through right now. After it’s all gone I lean against the side of the stall and rip a square of toilet paper to wipe my mouth. I can feel the tears welling up threateningly in my eyes, but then the door swings open and Jay appears with a worried expression.
He rushes in and kneels down next to me.
“It’s okay.” He whispers in an oddly appealing tone. I shiver in a hidden delight that would only show if I were in a better situation. But with a moan of aching I let my head fall to the side and let the weight on my eyelids take over.
I faint.