CHAPTER 1
I once heard a tale that all men that walk the Earth have strings connected to them. Invisible strings that tie all our stories into place, creating chapters of crossovers which we call our memories. That no man should be discriminated by race, age, belief, or culture, because all these are results of the strings connected within all of us. That no man walks alone in the oblivion that is the Earth, that no man is really lost in his journey. We are never lost, our strings are only tangled.
Samantha slept through the night.
She wakes up to the sound of the siren. The docks are filled with fishermen about to set off to sea to make a living for their families. The sky as blue as her eyes were the brightest it ever was. She looks up to the side of her bed and sees her mother’s picture. She’s beautiful. She was beautiful. Waking up in the morning with the same memory of that night is what Sam dreaded the most. She hated the fact that she was waking up. She hated having to move near the docks. She hated the siren. She hated every consequence that night gave.
“Sammy!’, she hears a voice.
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“Sammy! We’re gonna be late!”, Mum shouted at me from downstairs.
“Coming!”
Christmas dinner was going to be held at Nana’s house. It’s a 45-minute drive from our house in Minnesota to Nana’s place. Everyone had their matching sweaters on. Dad and Mum had both of theirs knit by Nana back when her arthritis wasn’t that bad yet.
“Young lady, your Nana is starving!”, I heard her shout while i rushed down the stairs.
“I’m here!”
We rushed out to the car. It was snowing really heavily tonight. It almost felt like a blizzard. But it didn’t stop us. My Dad reversed out of our driveway into the road.
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“Sammy!”, she hears her Dad call again.
She got up lazily. She didn’t even mind how her hair looked. She didn’t care if she still had remnants of sleep in her face. She went downstairs.
William received a brand new sports car.
It wasn’t the first car his parents gave him. In fact, it wasn’t the first expensive thing he ever got. He was always given the opportunity, everything was handed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. Whatever he needs, he gets. Nothing ever seem to have value because none of it was from something he strived to get.
He looked at the keys he placed on his nightstand. Thinking how another one is going to go into the box inside his drawer that are full of all the keys of cars he was given the past year. His phone rings.
“Joshua, not again.”, William knew why his brother would be calling. He didn’t like the idea of being seen in public with him. He wasn’t supposed to be born. He was a mistake. He was his father’s mistake. And William can never look past that.
Joshua works as a waiter.
Today was just an ordinary day for Joshua. Finish up his shift, head home, and get up the next day for school, and continue the cycle. He serves his first table for the night. A couple celebrating their first anniversary.
“What are your specials for tonight?”, the gentleman asks.
Joshua couldn’t hear him. His eyes were fixated to the girl that just entered. Her hair flowed to her shoulder, her eyes brightened the entire room, and he was the only thing Joshua saw. Not the lights, not the people he was serving, not the rain from outside. It was just her.
“Hey! I’m talking!”, Joshua suddenly goes back to reality.
“We have mushroom soup as the soup of the day, braised beef….”, even while he was answering the customer, his thoughts drifted. The only thing in his mind right now is her eyes.
He finishes taking his first table’s order and heads to the kitchen. Even then, all he could think of was her. And how much he wants to head back out there and serve her table.
Miranda gives birth to a girl.
“Last push honey! You can do this!”, the midwife exclaimed.
Miranda’s head was spinning. The burning pain overwhelmed her, but her body was working for one thing, and one thing only, to get her baby girl out of her. She took a deep breath and gave it one last push. With that, she hears a cry.
“She’s here.”, those words became Miranda’s favorite.
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“She’s here!”, Miranda’s mother announces as she walks down the stairs wearing her lace dress for the banquet.
Miranda was beautiful. Men would line up to be able to dance with her every social gathering. She was beauty that men desired and women envied. She belonged to the richest family of Albany, everyone wanted to be her friend.
“Do I have to attend the banquet? I don’t even know a lot of people going.”
That was what was different with Miranda. She belonged to the upper class but never appreciated the events and activities it came along with. She hated the responsibility of carrying her name.
“Of course you should, the McCartney’s are coming.”, and Miranda can only sigh at her mother’s words. That’s what she was, a trophy for marriage. Like what all women in her time would be.
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She gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the fact that she was raising her alone, not the fact that she was just in excruciating pain, nothing. She’s here, and Miranda felt a tear fall from her eyes. She’s here. She kept repeating it in her head. She’s here. The midwife placed the baby on her chest gently and Miranda held her child for the first time.
“What are you naming her?”, the midwife asked.
“Clara,”, she looked at her baby’s eyes, “her name’s Clara.”.