Chatterbox: Blab About Books

Merissa Meyer's Heartless is one of the most wonderful and one of the most painful books that I have ever read.

I have recently come to love the author of the Lunar Chronicles for her riveting plotlines and her engaging writing. Heartless was such an amazing book, but I wasn't completely satasfied with the ending. Scratch that, the ending completely killed me. So, I decided to take a stab at writing fanfiction for the fist time..... 

Please, please keep in mind that what I am about to post is a very, very rough draft. There's still a LOT of smoothing out to do, and quite possibly a complete rewrite of the entire thing. But the reason I'm posting it on here is to ask you guys if you think that I should continue writing this, if I should dive deeper into the land of hearts or just leave it be. At the moment, I'm not really sure. 

Oh, also, one more thing. I've noticed that Bab is pretty slow, and I'm not sure what the odds are that the very few people on here who have probably read this would just so happen to check here when this thread is up....... I may post it somewhere else if this fails. Maybe. Unless that would be rude, in which case I won't.

(Again, very very rough draft. Also, the italics may or may not show up. If they don't, then this whole thing is going to look very strange XD) 

~Prolougue~

The night was moonless.

Twinkle twinkle little bat,

Hatta slammed the door of his cart closed, and the sound echoed through the still air.

How I wonder where you’re at

Time was not one his side. Time had never been on his side. He had tried to run from time, but time had found him, time had claimed his mind….

Up above the world so high

Treacle. The air felt like treacle, pulling him apart piece by piece. He watched casually as his hands slowly disintegrated in front of him, flying apart into millions of bleeding hearts.

Like a tea tray  in the sky

Tea….. hearts…. Time. What was the point of it all, really? He was mad, he reminded himself. There really was not point.

Except.

Except.

Tonight, the queen was having a child. And there was a chance…. A small chance that this child was not the king’s. And if so…….

Hatta grinned to himself in the darkness.

The queen had never played by the rules of the game.

And so neither would he.

“Would you like to see her your majesty?” the physician, a tall, lanky stork, gently wrapped a screaming newborn girl in a soft red blanket embroidered with tiny hearts. The baby began to bawl as it drew air into its tiny lungs for the first time. The queen scowled. “I suppose I should look at the tiny wretch, shouldn’t I? After all, it’s going to  have to rule this kingdom one day.” The expression that filled his monarch’s face when the stork handed her the princess took the stork somewhat by surprise. He had never seen such disgust, such pure loathing, aimed at a child.  Then again, you didn’t see many other expressions on her majesty’s face. Maybe she simply wasn’t capable of feeling anything anymore.

The queen thrust the baby into the physician’s wings. “Take it away!” she shrieked. “Take it away and drown it!” The stork blanched. “B-But your Ma-” The queen snarled. “Say that it died soon after birth. If you don’t…..” the queen leaned forwards until her hot breath ruffled the stork’s feather. “If you don’t, then it’s off with your head.”

The night engulfed Hatta as he crept through it. His breath came in deranged pants, and beads of sweat plastering bits of frizzy, untamed hair to his cheeks. An endless chant was running through his head, echoing throughout every corner of his mind until he wanted to scream for release.

One to be a murderer, the other to be martyred.

One to be a monarch, the other to go mad.

One to be a murderer

The stork hurried down the road, praying that the child wouldn’t start bawling. Killing a baby went against his natural instincts  Then again, so did dying.

The other to be martyred

The baby princess stirred in her blanket, then flailed her arms in the air, blindly searching the air for her mother. She opened her eyes to stare up at the stork.

One to be a monarch.

Yellow eyes. The princess had lemon yellow eyes. The stork stopped in the middle of the road, shocked.

The other to go mad.

Hatta leaped out of the darkness, his violet eyes crazed and desperate. Before the stork could give a cry of protest, Hatta grabbed the princess and dropped a black, feathered top hat onto his head. Instantly, the stork began to change, his body shrinking, his feathers darkening, and his voice turning to a shrill caw. The hat shrunk with him, and would not come off, no matter how much he struggled. Hatta gave a wild grin, leaned down, and whispered to the bird “Why, my good friend, is a raven like a writing desk? You of all people should know the answer to that, now, shouldn’t you.” Giving a loud, shrill caw, the raven clumsily spread its wings, launched into the air, and became one with the velvet darkness of the night.

Hatta stared down at the child. “And what might your name by, love?” the baby gurgled and blinked her yellow eyes at him. Hatta sighed. “Jess it is then. Just like your father.” Jess reached her tiny fist into the air, grabbing onto Hatta’s thumb for dear life. The tiniest of smiles crossed Hatta’s face as he turned on his heel and began to walk. “We’re going to Chess, love. Better hold tight. It’s going to be an impossible trip.”