Gen Four- Chapter Two

Neither of us knew how to react. I knew most people in the building and had formed the basic, pleasant general relationship one has with acquaintances on average at least twenty years older than you. Mr. Sterling though, well, he was essentially a ghost to me. A figure I saw only rarely and who only ever flashed a quick appearance in the corner of my eye before he impossibly darted off. Seriously, maybe he could walk through walls. I'd tried to follow him once or twice, and it was if he'd vanished from reality.

     "Good afternoon, Nutmeg," he greeted quietly and meekly.

I stopped his attempt at walking by by moving in his way. Needing to move down the hallway I blocked, he was trapped between getting to his destination and knowing walking in the opposite direction wouldn't help him.

     "Hey, Mr. Sterling, can I talk to you for a moment?" A bold request on my part, and one I knew he wouldn't accept.

     "Unfortunately, there's something I must take care of. If I could be on my way."

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead when I jumped to halt him once more.

Gen Four- Chapter One

One of the most difficult questions I've ever attempted to answer in my life is one many have pondered...what does it mean to be a good person? Or, likewise, what does it mean to be a bad person? I've known people I believed to be good who turned out to be absolute monsters. There are those who the world shuns as horrible when all I've ever known from them is kindness. Can a lifetime of repentance undo the worst of crimes? Can one terrible action dissolve every honorable act done until then?

I don't have an answer after all this time. Honestly, I don't think it's a question that can be answered. All one can do is take a look at the situation before them and judge to the best of their ability with their heart and mind. Such a conclusion was a long time in the making. It was during the late summer in my tenth year when I first had to ponder that above question, but it's probably best to go back a little before that. I'll start with a certain Friday. A day with a bright sun, lively early summer breeze, and moment after moment of subtle changes to my stagnant life.

Gen Three- Chapter Twenty Two

Gilly and I were woken up to Merlot bursting into our room excitedly revealing grandpa had made french toast for breakfast. Our brother could be picky with his food, but if there was one thing he couldn't deny it was anything drenched in syrup. I know I certainly got a good smile out of watching him bounce around as if Christmas had come early when grandpa handed him his plate also smothered in powdered sugar. Merlot's appetite never ended, but it'd been getting worse now that he was on the fringes of puberty. He finished one plate and got another by the time I ate my first four slices.

     "Who's house did you say will you be at today, Dia?" dad asked after gulping down another large mouthful of his own second serving.

     "Arbor Thicket's, the new guy in our grade. From what I heard, he lives down by Mama Rose's and Papa Jac's house."

     "How late do you think you'll be out?"

     "I can't say for certain, but definitely not all that late. We just have to decide the first three books we'll be using for the beginning of the project. We might go to the library, but Arbor and I will most likely just decide what we want and get the books separately."

     "Alright. Call me if you want a ride home."

     "Of course."

I gave dad the biggest smile I could muster. His expression easily projected his continuing worry caused by the dead cat incident the previous afternoon. Dad was scheduled to be at the bookstore until late again, so him being willing to shirk work for a little if I needed it was quite endearing. However, I had no concerns about not being able to handle myself. I naturally still felt bad for the cat, but I wasn't going to start bursting into tears about it at this point.