Actions Speak Louder Than Words

In a small village away from society 3 families live secret lives as shape-shifters. It is only as a child decides to run away from home that the families must use their powers that they wished they never had, in order to find the missing child and stop themsleves from being exposed. This story is about loving yourself for who and what you are, and about accepting others as well.


3. To Endure

Jeane sat perched on a spare upturned metal bucket, humming a tuneless song. Megan Wendrock and Harpreet Dage flanked either side of her as they both tapped buckets absentmindedly in time to the rhythm. Megan suddenly cut off from her tapping and turned towards her company, taking in thier forlorn faces. Harpreet's lips quivered in the cold; they had already turned a startling shade of blue.

Outside, all Jeane could see was a large, carved, wooden statue resting half finished against a rock on the hill. Megan had started carving it a few years ago, when she too had gone through a phase to that of what Jamie was going through at the moment - she had wanted to make something of herself, to not let life just pass her by. So in an attempt to get her name known, and despite her family's wishes, she started sculpting, but she had no inspiration.

Therefore, the statue wasn't based on anything. It was just a hunk of gnarled wood, curving in places, coming to a point in others. Over time, great, big, leafy ferns had sprouted from the abandoned trunk; nothing would ever come from it now.

"We need to do something." The two women turned to look at her, their faces a sea of surprise. Jeane was surprised at herself; she was not someone who liked to speak out often.

"Jeane, honey, if we don't do this, then the room will flood! And if the room floods-"

Harpreet, calm down! I'm not talking about the rain! I know we have to empty the buckets! But nothing ever happens around here! I mean, look at that statue! Megan never even finished it!"

Across the room, Megan flinched, dropping a bucket and causing its contents to splash out onto the dark panels and drip through into the room below.

Harpreet sat quiet. She knew in her heart what Jeane was talking about. Jamie had been talking about it for the past few weeks. It had finally caught on.

"I don't want to talk about this. I have enough from Jamie!" Harpreet rose her voice, just a little so that she could be heard.

Jeane felt her temper slipping. If only Heath was here. Harpreet had a soft spot for Heath, who was absolutely gorgeous, having inherited his father Barnaby's brooding good looks, as had Ella, Heath's sister. At the age of 22, he was tanned, incredibly toned with rippling muscles, and had an award-winning smile that would make anyone crumble under it, combined with his stereo-typed dark and mysterious smile.

"You may be scared for Jamie, and I understand that what you went through is enough to make anyone stay well clear of the city. But Jamie and Megan, and Ella," Jeane waved her hands above her head, suddenly at a loss."They're only teenagers." Now, Jeane paused for affect. "The last thing we want is for them to grow old and alone like us."

Harpreet threw her empty bucket to the floor and stomped towards the door. "We are not alone. We are in this together!" Harpreet's voice faded into the howling wind.

"Then why are you leaving?!" Jeane screamed, shaking her head madly.

Harpreet glared back and Jeane and whispered, "I said I don't want to talk about it. So I won't." With one last filthy stare and contemptuous sniff, Harpreet scurried from the room. Megan stared out of the window, having tried to ignore the whole arguement, and a small smile grew on her lips. "I never did finish that statue did I?"

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