Friday, 5 December 2014

Chapter from Clandestine

Hello Readers! 
I have been going on about Clandestine for about 2 months! And I have had some request to share some of the story. So I thought I could to that today! 
Here is a chapter: I don't know what number it is. I have to confess if something does not make any sense, or a word is misspelled. (This is a snippet from my first draft) Its not perfect! 
But Hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think, in the comments below!  

It’s been a week already on the project. Days sat in the library; studying Shakespeare. Jack and I finished writing our essay in class today. Handing them to Fray at the front as we leave the room. I've forgiven her, though she doesn't know the truth. Jack pokes me in the spine, as we file through the door. He does it playfully, trying to get a reaction out of me. But I don’t give him one. I just flinch.

Over the last couple of days of finishing the first half of the project, we only spent the afternoons in the library. Me, always trying to get rid of him, trying to doge him. He’s always trying to be so nice to me, trying to be so friendly. It’s not normal, its nothing I ever though could happen. Someone wanting to be my friend, someone trying to protect me from my problems.
I walk fast down the hallway, towards Priss’s class. She’s waiting for me again; she’s always waiting for me. I take her hand, but am forced to turn around when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Jack moves his hand to his side. “I’ll see you at 2:00.” I nod, then dragged by Priss into the room.

I take off to the library, pushing my way into the foyer where I see Jack waiting for me. “Your late sweetheart,” he mutters, I punch him in the shoulder. He grins. He keeps calling me that, I graciously pass it as teasing.
We approach one of the desks in the foyer. An elderly Iciest woman sits at it, she is typing on her pagelet. She looks up at us, adjusting her glasses on her face.
Can I help you two?” She asks eyeing us up and down. “We are looking for the book, Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare. Do you know where we can find it?” Jack asks with confidence in his voice.
She tilts her head, so that she can look at him over the lens.
Far drama section, second floor up.”
Second floor up. I didn't know there was a second floor. We come to the stairs, “Oh!”
What?” jack asks, “Nothing, just never been to the second floor before!” he raises his eyebrows at me. “No kidding…?”
I shrug; then run up the stairwell, jack trailing me.
We break into the second floor. It looks much like the first floor. The light is a golden yellow like downstairs. A cluster of windows lines some of the walls. The light coming into the room in small streaks. There is hardly anyone of the desks at the front.
I end up following Jack to the back of the room. Past, all the rows, till we end up in the last one, with the sign that reads, Drama.
I run my hand over the shelves, the book covers over my fingers. Looking for the name of the lovers; Jack goes over the opposite shelve.
Found it,” he says a moment later, sounding oddly downcast, I turn around, “It’s all the way, up there.”
He points the top of the shelf. I strain my neck to see its green cover.

No Staff, no ladders.
How in the world are we supposed to read the book, if it’s all the way up there?”
I seem to get a small thrill seeing him frustrated. He leans his back against the opposite shelf, gripping his head with both hands as he looks up at the book.
I bite the inside of my mouth, trying hard not to grin, as I watch him pace back and forth.
Then he’s staring at me.
What...Seriously what?”
That’s it!” He crouches down, beckoning me over. I can see what he’s thinking. I can see his plan. But I’m not keen!
No way! There is no way, at all!”
Um, yes way! Just get on my shoulders will you!” I can’t believe he’s making me do this. I look from the book on the highest shelf, to Jacks now impatient face. I swing my legs over his shoulders, so I sit on the back of his neck.

I shudder as he stands up straight. I grip one hand on the shelf for support. And the other hand hanging around the top of his head.
Don’t you trust me?” He asks sounding a little discouraged at the feel of tension in my body. “Just don’t let me go.” Is all I can manage say! 
“I Promise,”
He holds each of my legs against his chest. I feel the support strengthen, causing me to relax a little more.
Can you see it?”
I skim over the covers; till I come over 'Romeo and Juliet' I get my fingers into the space, pulling it from the shelf.
Got it!” I cheer…
Jack whoops with the success! He’s laughing. I swing my legs from his shoulders to around his waist. Throwing my arms around him, holding the book to his chest; Leaning in kissing him on the cheek.
What Do you think you’re doing?” Cries the Librarian, standing in the opening of the shelves. Her arms crossed in displeasure. Jack takes the book from my hand with a free hand, the other still holding one of my legs in place.
We found the book!” he says trying not to laugh. The woman looks at us both speechless. Then adjusting her glasses she adds. “Could you please keep the noise down? This is a library.”
I drop to the floor giggling. Jack follows me doing the same.
Its moments like these that make up life. The moments of pure happiness that keeps us alive. Or even just sane, for the days to come. My stomach hurts hard from the laughing.
He leans in and kisses me on my forehead. What goes around comes around!
I freeze. The feel of his lips against my skin.
He folds his legs on the floor; I sit down across from him, legs folded. I use my hand to brush off the dust on the cover. Coughing with the dust in my lunges. I don’t know what we are waiting for.
Jack grins at me. “You ready?”
Ready for what?” I ask dumbly. He leans his face into mine, like he’s going to share a great secret with me. I lean in interested. I don’t know much about the story really. Only that the two main characters die, from manifested suicide.
For the impact!” I screw my face up. “What?”
For the dramatic story, of two star crossed lovers, destined to die for their love.” I sigh and pull back. “I knew that much.”
He raises his eyes, “Really Mistral?” I punch him in the shoulder, “okay, okay.”
He opens the hardcover. The prologue sits on the first white page.

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new munity, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; whose misadventured piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parent’s strife. The fearful passage of their death-marked love, and the continuance of their children’s end, nought could remove, is now the two hours’ traffic of stage; the which if you with patient ears attend. What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Jack and I take turns reading on part at a time. He finishes with the words, “What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”
Wow,” mutter. 
“It really tells it all.”
I scowl at him confused. “I just mean. The prologue explains the whole set of tragic events in first part of the book. I mean it was like Shakespeare was not even concerned about spoiling it for the readers.” He pauses, only to go on, “But that is what the story is about. Star-crossed lovers, set out on earth by God, only to not be aloud each other. And in the end, their love was self-destruction, all cause of the pride of their family.”
He’s deep. The passion he expresses toward the story is more than I had ever heard before. He looks up at me, “Pride, my dear Mistral, will destroy us one way or another. It was not love that killed them. It was the pride of the ones above them that fell and crushed them.”
I bit my lip; then flip the page over. “Why do you care so much about Romeo and Juliet?” I ask quietly, and softly. Allowing my voice to be kind to him for the first time. I look deep into his eyes. They are mixed with danger, but something else. I don’t understand what.
It’s the injustice. Falling under the weight of someone’s pride. No one should have to put up with that.”
I all of a sudden don’t like where the conversation is going. We skim over the words on the next page. He reads it upside down, so that I can read is right side up.
We read the whole chapter. Jack moved himself to my side, so that he could read it properly. The death of a Capulet/Montague. The fight against the family.
Once the chapter is over, we close the book. Looking at each other, in silence. “Good story ha?” I nod silently. “Well,” he says taking my hand. “I must bid you adieu .” Kissing my figures; then standing up. I pull my hand to my side, holding it. Holding in the smile that comes to my lips.

See you later Iris. Be careful…” He leaves the aisle. Giving me one last smile.


  1. I like Jack :)
    (Just putting this out there) Reading this feels so much like my first draft, jumping back and forth, just trying to get what is in my head on the page. Thank heavens we can come back and organise our thoughts! :)
    I don't know if thats just me, or if it's true. Now I'm making no sense xD

    1. Thanks!
      And Yeah, I get you. I am grateful of the opportunity of being in control of my own work. Even if it doesn't make sense trying to write the first draft. At least you can try and make it better the second time round! :)