Fallen Dreams by Elaine Brown (best english books to read TXT) 📕

Part One

I

The rain was cold against my skin, the small droplets pounding lightly against my face and arms and wherever I was exposed. Strange how such a beautiful, sunny day could have gone so horribly wrong. The sky wasn’t even visible now, through the mass of grey storm clouds. I was glad for the rain pelting down on me, soaking me through and through, allowing me to feel as though even my soul were drenched in tears. The salty tears streaming down my cheeks and dripping off my chin were mixing with the pure water of the sky. The sky… was it crying for me?

The first tragedy had struck no more than a year before this one. Though that one wasn’t nearly as bad on a realistic scale, they had nearly tied on the weights of my heart. At least until I understood fully what had happened and who was to blame for my whole world exploding into a whirlwind of pain and suffering on all sides. The first tragedy was like a swift blow to my stomach; quick but so hard that it flipped and tied itself in knots, making it hard for me to breathe at all. And it

was

hard for me to breathe, whenever I thought back on it. About his smiling face, how he had dragged me off after curfew just so we could look at the stars, sitting beneath our favorite tree… No! Don’t go, Shay! Stay, don’t leave me here…

I wake up sweating, and sigh heavily against the feeling of dread that consumes me when I fall asleep. That stupid dream had been haunting me for a little over a week by now, and every time that I fall into my bed I dread being sucked back into it. What was I going to do? Shawn was long gone, coming up on two years now! It had been his fault, anyway, what had happened to everyone. It wasn't my fault, it couldn't have been! But what Shawn had said that day, the day of the tragedy... No! I won't think about it; what that monster said means nothing to me! He is a cheap little liar!

Who you grew up with, who you cared about?

My mind inquires, and I hold my face in my hands as it all comes rushing back, drowning me in my own grief.

The first tragedy happened nearly two years ago, when I was 15. The afternoon sunlight warmed my face and body as I lay with eyes closed on the grassy hillside. I took a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly as a smile crept its way onto my upturned face.
“I know you're there, Shawn.”
Though my eyes were still closed, I could almost see him grinning. He didn't say anything, trying to trick me into opening my eyes, trying to make me doubt how I could feel when he was near.
“We can play this all day, I won't give in. Don't you know me at all?” I shook my head as if I were disappointed but my smile didn't fade.
He broke, more quickly than usual, and ran to my side. I felt the vibrations as he plopped down beside me. I frowned and rolled onto my side, opening my eyes and finding him staring at me. Shawn's position and expression mirrored my own. His long, six foot frame extended on the grass was so much longer than my five foot six. The dark locks of hair that he wore just below his ears was windblown; he'd run here to find me.
“What's wrong, are you all right?”
He doesn't answer me; he just averts his gaze and reaches out a hand to absently play with my hair.
“Shawn?”
He closes his eyes, like he can't stop listening to my voice, like he wants to memorize it for if he's not here for a long time. I'm a little surprised, because he sighs, and Shawn never sighs or complains. His eyes open slowly, the black of his hair blending with the almost black of his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Orin, I'll be fine. Come on, you've spent enough time dreaming.” Shawn stands and pulls me to my feet, holding me against his chest so that I don't fall. We've done this for as long as I can remember, but, for some reason, this time feels different. My face starts getting warm, and I look up into Shawn's face; he blushes, too, but lets me go slowly. Suddenly, his expression changes and he grins at me, grabbing me around the waist and swinging me onto his back, despite my protests; and he sets off running for the village.

Trees pass by, then fields and farm houses, until, finally, most of the countryside disappears and Shawn's feet pound with the echo of cobblestone streets. Housing on either side differs from large, old plantation houses of a variety of colors, to small shack like cottages with one room and thatched roofs. My arms, wrapped around Shawn's neck, tighten slightly as we pass the gap between two fairly large houses; the ally way is slender, but it is just large enough that if you peer through at the right angle it is possible to catch a glimpse of the old, dark stoned, almost Gothic style structure miles out on the hilly landscape; many of the superstitious so named it the “Gothic Towers”. Though others in the village have evil superstitions about that outcast building, I've never really been worried. But today is feels different in so many ways, and today I just don't have a good feeling about that place. I shiver slightly and Shawn looks back at me questioningly. I shake my head, making him frown; I tell him everything.

I just don't want to worry him over nothing...

I try to convince myself, but my more honest self decides to speak up;

You just don't want him to think you're crazy. You just don't want him to know that today has an ominous feel, you want him to enjoy the nice, sunny day.

Suddenly I realize that my house has already flown by.
Inwardly rolling my eyes at myself, I lift one hand and tug at the tip of his ear, leaning close but far enough away that I don't upset his balance. “Where are we going? You know where I live, how could you miss my house?”
Shawn grins, his torso rumbling under me as he laughs. “It's a secret.”
I let go of his ear, just so I can bring my fist up and hit him in the head. He drops his head, laughing, hitting my arm with his chin and pinning it to his chest. I pull my legs free of his hands, wrapping them around his waist and holding on tight; I pull at the arm he has pinned, making him laugh harder. The village falls away, giving into grassy fields and flowers, just before the tree line of the forest. Still struggling, I take my free hand and take hold of his chin, thrusting upwards, but I have no leverage. Shawn smiles again, eyes flashing mischievously, and I realize that by wrapping my legs around his waist for leverage, I have left his arms free as well. Now he has the advantage: two arms, control of my direction, one of my arms pinned, and more strength than I have, plus he has better leverage. Slowly, knowing that I have no control of the situation, he reaches around to take hold of my arms. Too slow. I swing my arm around in a low arch, grabbing his wrist as it brushes past my hand and twisting his arm up behind him, in between his back and my stomach.
“Ah!” he grunts, attempting to twist his body to accommodate this awkward position. His attempts are useless, however, since my perch on his back prevents him from this type of movement for risk of losing his balance. Though I am not actually hurting him, I could if I have the inclination, and I will. Pressing his arm in its place and pinning it, I release his wrist and reach down for his other hand. His arms are too much longer than mine; I have no way of capturing his remaining arm. I close my eyes to concentrate at the same moment I feel pressure in the back of my leg, right at the knee. The sensation is close between a small pinch, a numbing tingle, and being tickled; I'm not sure which, but none of these sensations help me in the current situation. I'm not sure if I'm lucky or unlucky, for Shawn suddenly loses balance and pitches forward, dropping us both in the grass, rolling and struggling to stop or gain the upper hand over the other.
A low dip in the ground sends us about a foot in the air, but destroys much of our momentum; we come to a stop right at the edge of the glassy lake where the livestock is herded to drink. Grass or grass stains cover most of my person and I am gasping for breath. Shawn, though he is a bit less winded, is raising himself up into a crouch, laughing through his panting and shaking to dislodge the grass, succeeding mainly in making me uncomfortable and more grassy. I'm pressed into the long, soft grazing substances as he takes hold of my wrists and secures them above my head. He smiles, eyes shining, and presses his knees into the ground on either side of me, barring me from escape. “Well, I find it hard to believe we haven't had a good skirmish like this in a while. You yield?”
I scowl at him, but I bite my lip and keep down a nasty comment, inquiring instead, “Winner takes what?”
His smile grows into his signature harsh, evil grin, “Don't you mean, loser gives what?”
“No, if I had, I would have said that. What is with you today? Get off.”
His smile falters for a split second but then he rearranges his features, adopting an expression of mock solemnity, and he hisses, “Don't take me for an imbecile, Orin. I won't let you up until you've yielded.” He yawns and allows some of his weight to press me between him and the ground. His hands tighten around my wrists, not enough to hurt but they start to throb, he pulls his knees in closer to my sides. This slow compression of space is more awkward for me than painful or worrisome. I want to close my eyes, but my gaze is trapped by the gravity of his black hole eyes; his dark eyes are strangely deep, strangely alluring and hard to escape if he doesn't wish you to. His expression changes again, now it is distracted and a little unsettled, and I am suddenly able to look away again. My breathing has slowed, but for some reason my heart is still racing. I can feel the pulse in his wrist, pressed to mine, and am surprised to find that his heart is racing, too.
I clear my throat, then I sigh; “Fine, loser gives what?”
He blinks, then smiles warmly down at me. “Hmm… Since today is such a nice day, let’s make it something small. Let’s see… how about… I—“ I raise an eyebrow at him, “—I mean winner—“ he smiles wider and winks at me, “—gets five bronze?”
I deliberate. “I can’t get anything with just five bronze… Make it ten and you have a deal.”
He grins, thinking I’ve just given him free money. “Whatever you want, I’ll be happy