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CHAPTER 1 “Are you looking for someone Mr Spielberg?” A lanky slim man asked, carrying few books in his hands. CharlesSpielberg shruggedhis shoulder, andtookoutapaper giving it to the man. “Iamhere tomeet someone--an old looking man,” hesaid. The lankymanconstrainedinto a bellylaugh, taking thepaperfrom Charles withhis freehand.“I will callhimrightaway.” He walkedaway, andenteredintothe castle. Charlesheaved
Blinking her eyelids, her sight came clearer and clearer until she met the cracks in a spiderweb patterns hanging in the ceiling with missing shingles. The girl groaned. "No, no!" She cried, her face screwed up as of she wanted to cry. "No!" She kicked her legs aimlessly in the air. "I made it clear to you to wake up before 'leven," a male voice resounded. "Because you tend to have imaginative thoughts at sunrise." Sheila got up straighter from the tattered bed, her face contorted in frustration. Her ginger medium hair disheveled and shadowing her shaggy ginger brows. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tugged her hair away from her face. "I dreamt of a certain servant 'bout to give me a crown," Sheila said. Michael Lovatta rais
"I don't think we'll be permitted in 'er library again," Sheila said, as they were on a walk to the main street. "Then I'll be in search of another library, or we can try the library at the campus." "Ye want to get me into trouble, I see." Louisa laughed. As they strolled down the busied sideways, billboards and city screens were standing over six stories tall, attracting the attention of the pedestrians approaching. Sheila was smitten by a good-looking man displayed on one of the billboards. The man on the displaywasdressed in a black tuxedo,his dark coffee hair styledin a pompadour fade, and his kissablelips curled up into a rich smile. "Who's tha
Blazing sun shone through the Blue Castle College building, no clouds but a clear blue sky. Charles was staring in front of the chalk board. When he heard an audible whispering his ears, he whipped his head towards an open window of the class. White and blue butterflies fleeted into the air, and standing a mile away from the window was a girl in a white robe. Charles narrowed his eyes, when he blinked, the girl disappeared and he found himself staring at a girl in class, her name was Yolanda. Thinking Charles was staring at her the whole time, she smiled, her cheeks turning into shades of red from blushing. Realising this, Charles turned his focus back to the chalkboard. Did he have a dream of the redhead girl with open eyes? How was that even possible? He chuckled to himself.
“Should I leaveyou here, sir?” asked asherolledtoastopbythe Holypark.“Yes, it's here.”“Isit nota bitcrowded?”“Don'tworryaboutthat, I'll manage.” Charlessighed.Halesbert climbedout ofthecar,and opened thecar door for Charles.Charlestonhoppedout, wearinghis brownparka,andpullinghis hoodie over his tousled dark coffeehair.Thesensationof awindyairhitting on his face calme
The next hour of that early evening, Sheila strolled from Northforth to Greenfalls, heading to Kateworm library. She wore a plain wear and tear sweater dress, with thigh-high socks, and black ballet flats. She's wearing a brown newsboy hat over her ginger hair.Last night, she couldn't sleep, her mind was filled with thoughts about the book. She has to get that book today or never, she told herself. Looking at the cream sky, she knew it was getting late. She quickened her pace, the library was closing at half five.After what seemed five minutes of trolling, she saw three young girls coming out of the library laughing loud, as they grasped onto borrowed books. As soon as they left her sight, she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Ms Kate was placing books back into their respected shelves. Sheila took a glance at Ms Kate's black chocola
Sheila entered into the quiet cabin, darkness enveloped the room making it hard for her to spot out the lantern on the wooden table. She blindly strolled towards the window for a Dietz lantern. As soon as she got in touch with it, she put on the light, concealing the dark.She inhaled heavily. Her brother's presence is unseen, his black coat isn't on the hook.Perchance he went for hunting,she thought. However, her brother's hunting tools were in the room. So he might have gone somewhere and not in the forest."Ah! Perhaps he left to seek for me," she thought, after a second she stripped of her own forethought.She ambled towards a small cabinet, and pulled it open. She yanked out a long wearisome sigh. There was no food in the drawer, which means she might stay hun
Sheila sat on a green bench of the Holypark, eating her snacks. Her brother's view of the city bothered her, but she didn't let his opinion ruin her love for the city. It was Monday morning and it was rare to see anyone walking by the park, because most elites went to work to be more rich, and elites went to school to be more educated on being more rich. While dregs can't afford to go to school, or get employed, they become beggars by day and by night, or to some like Sheila, who wanders around the city, goes looking for what to take from the elites. Roaming her eyes, Sheila spotted an hawker across the streets seated at the corners selling newspapers on a fixed newstand to passersby. She cracked into a smile, and stood to her feet, throwing her plastic chips into the bin next to her. She adjusted her blue dress and hair. As she
Parkfields overflowed with all breed of persons that not one could fathom how affluent they appeared to be. Boulevards were restricted; shopping parades, espresso bars, and city restaurants throughout Parkfields were shut down in the honour of every elite graduating. The ballroom was then occupied by every young beautiful women and men by 6 p.m. There was a soft music in the background, playing a 1930s classical song titled 'J'attendrai' by Rina Ketty. Hundreds of gentlemen dressed up in tuxedos and women in luxurious and inexquiste dresses from high society were seated around tables adorned with golden platters, having polite conversations, drinking and mirthful laughter from every corner filled the room . In the upper room, Charles sat on a chaise, wearing a well-fitting blue water tux jacket with a freshly white pressed shirt, a bow tie and polished black shoes. Standing beside him in navy blue tux, was Jackson. "This looks to me like a nuptial and it is as if I am waiting on
Sheila had by no means thought she would be raided by such an unexpected quantity of money in her whole life. Being charged to pay £625 was a nightmare, and what seemed to reign in her was to find a way to escape this dilemma, but how will she do that? She took a glance towards the exit, but there are two suave men footing at the entrance as if they were conducting the eatery; there were twosome dining at the corner of the entrance, they would only seemed to be interrupted from their passionate moment just to watch Sheila been chased. And there were passers-by; anyone could try to hold her down for pilfering. She had to think of another option. "Miss Sheila, the payment needs to be made as soon as possible. You're paying on cheque, cash or swiping?" Dennis asked serenely. Sheila's jaw had reached to the ground. Why in hell didn't this man notice she wasn't an elite, but a Proletarian? But, she knew she was in trouble, hell trouble. First, she had to find a way to escape this nightmar
The news about Charleston breaking up with Lucy Martinez was made known to everyone, but nobody knew the reasons behind the breakup, which Charles wanted it to be kept secreted. Parties, and unusual celebrations was held by every girl to celebrate Charleston's breakup, and they knew from any moment that the prince charming will be looking for a woman to marry since the presidential election will be held in two months. Probably, Charles had his countdown. About Charleston's graduation day, specifically wealthy people received an invitation. Some girls were misfortune because their life wasn't known much of fame but it was of second-rate; and to invite such girls wasn't luck. It was an early fresh morning, where the sun greeted the sky with its smile. Louisa sat on a bleacher, stretching her legs. Nadia and Bella joined her.
It's her again, the girl with red hair, smiling at him!It is the first time he find it a pleasant thing to sleep during the day just to see the mysterious redhead girl, and this time the dream was special to him. He saw her face, clearly! When she smiled up at him divinely, tiny dimples appeared on her cheeks, her skin was flawlessly snowy, her hair wasn't red like crimson, but it was the most rich of browns, flaming and fiery. Her eyes, oh yes, her blue eyes were like staring into a pool of kindness. Her perfect full-lips were fruity and gave him the urge to kiss her.When he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, he didn't want to open his eyes, but continues seeing those eyes staring at him, those lips curling into a smile. He cursed whoever had interrupted his dream.“Charles!&rd
Throwing the door room open, Charles vaulted himself to his bed. He was man enough, and he was not going to let a tear flow from his eyes. How devious, malicious Lucy was and he hated her as much as he had loved her. He hugged his pillow to his chest, and squeezed his eyes shut. His jaw tightened, tears sting his eyes and his heart twisted that he almost felt it tear apart."Mr Spielberg, you called for me?" Constance said, bowing her head.He groaned, and took a deep breath. "What do you think, Constance? Do you think this is my fate?"Constance furrowed her brows in confusion. "What fate?"He turned to face her, his blue eyes soaked. "Lucy is married. She has a daughter and she's pregnant. She used me."
Charles sat down in his study, pondering about the meeting he had yesterday with the elders of Elites organisation. They had poured out their thoughts about what they thought of him for the presidential position, reasons could be because Icelanders adored him, and that was a good image for the country, and had graduated with a PhD in politics. The whole meeting was mostly spent of political leaders speaking of his achievements, and throwing him compliments after compliments. Charles was weary of hearing their praises, and felt that walking out of the boardroom would have been the best option, but the leaders would have spoke about his impulsive act, and his father, Donne Spielberg, would have had him on the throat. Earlier this autumn day, Bryan had asked him over to watch the netball game that was taking place later the day, but he d
CHAPTER 11: It was noon, and an exquisitely bright and clear spring day. Clumps of building and snatches of parks looked through the clouds like dim islands rising out of the sun arrays. Wallace was a market town, and verily was the opposite of Lowtown. Second-rate, who were considered to be neither rich or poor, but a middle-class people making a living in Wallace. Luckily for them, they were sometimes accepted to do what elites do. They could afford what they could, rather than the ploleterians. The rich, the second-rate and the poor lived very close together but they rarely visited each other's territory. The proletarians' quarters were sharply separated from the sections of the city reserved for the Elites and the middle-class, uncommunicating and opposed
Later that day, Charles sat alone at the large beautiful garden, paved with rose beds. Shutting his eyes as in the time of meditation, he heard footsteps next to him. "What is it that you wanted to tell me, Mr Hensworth?" Charles asked, the familiar of peachy scent penetrated his nostrils. "Have you come to tell me good news or bad news? If it's good news stay, if not, depart from here. My father has put me in enough stress." Alabaster Hensworth chuckled, shaking his head. "What if it's both good news or bad news?" Charles sighed. "What do you want?" "The interpretation of your dream," he said nonchalantly, "Do you want to hear it?" Charles fluttered his eyes open and g
Sheila sat on the bed with crossed legs, staring at the newsprint laying beside her. Her lips curved into a wide grin. "How can a man be this beautiful?" She giggled, tracing her fingers over the Charles's face on the newsprint. She reached out for a scissor, and deftly cut off his face, leaving Mr. Montero and Mr. Spielberg's. Taking up the piece of Charles face, she beamed holding it to her chest.The wooden door flew open and Michael stepped in. Sheila stagged the picture behind her back instantly.Michael planted his old traveling bag on the floor, sighing. His neck-length hair was disheveled and uncombed, sweat beaded his forehead, a shred of his grey shirt was ripped off. He looked as if he came from a clash. He turned to face his sister, his eyes tuning in different emotions of breaking down, or of glittering sadness.