Casey Chapter One


Casey is an average fifteen year old about to enter into the first year of high school. With an extremely Christian dad, and a deceased mom, Casey has more than academics on mind. Making new friends, creating bonds, but keeping a large secret is all in a day’s work.


Warning: This is rated M (meaning MATURE ADULT), and for a reason. Some of the chapters may seem tame, but it will get into sexual and adult situations. Please be aware. Do not read if these things may upset you.


Chapter One

The mall was bustling about; maybe a bit more than usual even for a Saturday. Old men walked by trailing along behind their old wives. Children yelled out and begged for things from the center sellers. Items were shining in the windows for each of the stores. I didn’t bother much with looking at the things, though. I watched the people. There were teenagers who wore their skin tight clothes or the goths who were heading down the way toward the food court. I loved to watch everyone. I studied their gait and saw how different the girls were from the guys. It was a busy Saturday, but I really loved the noise.

“Casey!” I heard someone yell out. I turned my head quickly, my long auburn braid swung against my back, as my friend Mary came running toward me. Her long knee length skirt had a pattern of roses on it, and her blush colored shirt covered from her elbows, up to her neck length and down the torso completely. I knew that even if she reached above her head for something skin would not show on her belly. She stopped and panted beside the bench I was sitting on. Some people stared at us as she caught her breath, but we didn’t pay them any heed. “What in God’s name are you wearing, Casey McPherson!”

I looked down at my Metalica short sleeved T-shirt, basic baggy jeans and tennis shoes and then looked at her with a raised brow, “Clothing.” She rolled her eyes as I smiled as innocently as I could.

“Your father will kill you if he saw those clothes,” she said and then looked around as if my old man was going to pop up suddenly and smite us both. “Where did you even get them?!” She suddenly waved her arms and I had to lean back to avoid being hit by her enthusiasm.

“A store,” I answered simply. I stood up and she gasped again. “What now?”

“Where are your… uh… where are your…” and she gestured to my chest.

“Boobs,” I answered for her. She nodded and then started biting her thumb nail in nervousness. “Walk with me, Mary. I will let you in on my little confession.” I gathered up my three plastic shopping bags from the various stores. For a minute I didn’t think she was going to follow as I turned to join the throng of people.

She quickly gained her steps and slid in beside me. I had been practicing my walk and now it seemed I was doing well. I mimicked the boys from the people watching as we made our way to the other side of the large city mall.

She waited for a few strides before looking over at me anxiously. “I’m going to cut my hair,” I announced to her. I waited for her to gasp again, but she just looked shocked. “You have known me since I was three, right?” She nodded and I continued, “I have always been the odd one in our little band of Christian martyrs. Mary,” I stopped and turned toward her, “I’m not really a girl.”

She looked confused. “I’m pretty sure you are a girl. We used to take baths together, remember? I mean, we went to camp together last year, too, and I remember you changing. You’re definitely a girl.”

I sighed and turned to were the hair style shop sat across from where we were standing. I pulled on her gently to make sure we weren’t in the way of traffic. Leaning against the wall of a punk rock shop, “I’m in the wrong body. I always have been. Your memory is great, so answer this: Why is it that I am always uncomfortable in the mandated clothes of church? Why is it that I demanded to know why I wasn’t a boy, when we were younger? Do you remember that time that I got the spanking for asking for a boy shirt from the store? I always snuck off to try and get the boy’s toys from the nursery in the church, or how I wanted to be put into the boy’s section at school? Mary, I am a boy. I am inside a boy. I feel like someone is forcing me to be this clown and perform in this circus I never signed up for.” She looked me up and down and then reached around for my braid. She didn’t say anything as her fingers ran along the pleats. “It has to go, too. I can’t continue to be what they want me to be constantly. I am going to scream if I have to enter another school, high school even, and pretend to be something I’m not.”

She contemplated something and then nodded, “What about your dad? Does he know?”

I shook my head quickly forcing the braid from her hand. It fell neatly down to rest along my front. The end beat against my knee as I continued to shake my head, “No, but he doesn’t need to.”

We didn’t move for a few breaths as we both envisioned the outcome of him finding out my revelations. He was a strict man and a very devout Christian. We read the Bible every night and he would quiz me on whole passages when he had the time. Yes, Joseph McPherson was the most pious man in our church currently, besides the pastor himself. Just this last Sunday the men of the church had passed around a petition and my father had been the largest most vocal signer against the gay rights movement of allowing marriage in the country. As a child and female I was to be quiet during the entire service and later we sat in our religious group, preteens and teens separated by gender, and learned why homosexuality was wrong according to God. On the ride home Mary’s family and mine shared their fifteen passenger van to be dropped off at our house. Our fathers talked about the days of Jesus’ time and how stoning and flogging should be brought back for the sinners against God. How Jesus himself had gone into a temple and destroyed it for their heresy and now our government had turned into that temple.

Mary spoke and brought me from my memories, “How will you hide this from him?” Her voice trembled as I’m sure she worried about her own punishment if they found out she was helping me.

I sighed, smiled again, and brought my hand to dig into one of the bags. My bright blue eyes met her dark brown ones as I dragged out another plastic bag. This one was clear. Holding it up for her to see; she looked confused again. I smirked again and handed it to her. Gently her hands pulled out the contents from the bag. A length of brown locks flowed down her fingers. Not as long as my hair, this one would only reach my middle back, but it was done beautifully. “A wig?” she asked. She looked up at me with a new look of terror.

“I thought it was clever,” I shrugged. “C’mon, I have an appointment to keep with destiny.” I grabbed her left hand and pulled her, with the wig still in her right hand, into the salon.

“I think I am going to be sick,” she said. She did look pale as I sat her down in a waiting chair. The magazines were enticing. They had glossy pages full of styles and I needed one that suited my desire. I held up the page I had been thinking about to my friend. She shook her head, pale now and maybe a bit green, she had tears in her eyes. “Please don’t,” she begged me.

“Mary, I know you’re scared, but I need to do this. No one will ever know. I promise to everything and swear on my soul that I will never let anyone know you came with me. I just need your help right now,” the tear fell down from her left eye. She used her half sleeve to wipe her face and nodded. “Good, now, which one?” I showed her two styles I was thinking about. “I need a bit of hair so I can use the bobby pins to attach the wig on, but I need the short hair to really make me who I am.”

She shuddered in a breath and pointed to the style she liked best, “Johnathon has that hair style.”

I smiled, “Are you ever going to tell your mom you like Johnathon so that she can speak with his mom?” Dating was prohibited within our church, but it was an unspoken rule that kids petitioned their parents to talk with the other parents and hook the couples up. “The fall social is coming up, and now that we are going into high school we can go.”

It brought her out of the shell she had slunk into about my change of style. She blushed, “I told her yesterday while we were doing dishes. She said he is a sweet boy. I think that means she will talk to his mom tomorrow during Woman’s studies.”

One of the ladies finished her customer and called me over to see what I needed done. She had bright green eyes and strawberry blond hair. I wondered if she was much older than a high schooler, honestly. I saw Mary biting her thumb again as I showed the picture to the lady. Her careful hands pulled out my braid as she said, “You’re cutting the entire length? That is a drastic change. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nodded sharply with a smile on my face, “I have wanted this since I was six. Keep it in the braid and start by cutting the base off. I want to donate it to a charity.” She nodded as she reached for the scissors.

“Oh God,” Mary wept as the first cut went through and the braid came clean off.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Copyright: 2015 France Gamble

Please leave a comment review!


The Storm Chapter Two

The Storm

France Gamble

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC.

Chapter Two

Merlin was terrified. He stood next to the legs of his guardian and listened as the king announced the death of the queen to the entire court. He looked over at his best friend who was sunk in his grand chair next to where the king stood straight backed and proud. Merlin felt very impoverish looking at the regal dress of his friend for the first time in his young life, but mostly it was the king’s shimmering robes that brought that out of him. His own basic clothes were enough for him, but even Gaius wore colorful robes to this event. The younger boy could see the grief in both of the monarch’s face. A few started to sob in the crowd as the king continued with his announcement. Merlin didn’t understand where his fear was coming from, but it settled deep into the pit of his stomach.

“It has been determined that magic was the weapon used to kill my wife,” the king ground out. His eyes leveled with Gaius and Merlin looked up to see the sadness reflected in that gaze. “Her funeral will be in two days’ time. The accused will be executed tomorrow at dawn. Everyone is dismissed!” People started to clamor out of the large meeting room.

Merlin turned to leave when a hand held him back. He looked up to see Gaius still not moving and still having a staring match with their lord. In the corner of their eyes, Arthur moved from his chair to go to his best friend. He swallowed a few times during his walk down the steps of the thrones, but couldn’t hold back anymore when he collapsed into a hug by the little black haired boy.

“Gauis,” the king summoned the man over to where he still sat. The physician walked over and bowed slightly to his king before waiting for him to speak again. “Gauis, magic killed my wife. Could there have been anything she could have done to prevent it?”

“Magic can really only be fought with magic, sire,” he hesitated before adding, “I don’t know if we could prevent any death from happening. It is a horrible tragedy.”

The king looked over at the children. “If magic didn’t exist, my wife would still be here today,” his eyes hardened as they locked with the blue eyes of the smallest boy. Merlin quickly looked away and hugged onto Arthur tighter. “I need to protect my son, now,” he whispered.

“Sire, I don’t think…” Gauis started to protest.

“Gauis, friend, make me a promised from this day forth,” the king turned steel eyes to the other man. “No magic will be done in this place ever again. You will not perform another spell, ritual or incantation. You will not use another artifact.” Fear came to the physician’s eyes but he nodded. “I will announce it at the funeral. Anyone caught doing sorcery will be put to death. It is the only way to stop this evil from spreading.”

“Sire, it was one…”

“It was my WIFE!” the king bellowed. In the corner the candles blew out from a wind that came from nowhere as Merlin squeaked in fear. Both boys held each other tightly and the eyes of the older monarch turned back to the children. “That one…” he pointed to his son’s best friend.

“He cannot stop himself, your highness. He is very young and was born with…” Gaius tried to defend the child.

“Then he is a monster, a devil, that needs to be sent back to where he belongs,” the king started to march over to the frightened children.

“Please, Uther, don’t do this! I will teach him to not use it. Just as you trust me to not use mine, I will teach him to not use his,” Gaius followed after the king until he stopped next to the quivering youngsters.

The graying haired man stared at the young boy who was doing his best not to look at him. His son unlatched himself and turned eyes that mimicked his mother’s own toward the king. They were a challenge, but still hopeful and young. Turning away from the children the king ordered, “Erase my son’s memories of magic in this place before the law is set and lock that thing away until he can be useful to my son and not be a monster.” He turned to storm from the room, but before he left completely he said without turning, “If I see him before he can control it, Gaius, I will do what is needed to ensure my kingdom is safe.”

Merlin didn’t understand what had just happened. He turned to his guardian with questions wanting to fly off his tongue, but Gaius didn’t hesitate to take both boys by their arms and escort them back to his chambers.

As he shut and locked the door the two boys stood side by side now with fear again gripping their hearts. “Merlin, go to your room. I’ll talk with you in a little bit,” he ordered the little boy. The child took off up the stairs and shut the door quickly as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. “Arthur,” he lowered himself to look into the sea blue eyes of his young prince, “I have to do this because your father asked me to, but I’m not going to take all of your memories of Merlin away from you. I think having a friend will be very important for you.”

He gently put his hands on either side of the blond boy’s head and closed his eyes as he said, “Tóg an draíocht as a chuimhne. Fág gach duine eile.” Behind his lids his eyes flashed a bright gold and the boy collapsed into the man’s arms.

A few hours later the door to Merlin’s room opened up to find the young boy lighting and extinguishing his candle next to his bed over and over again with a wave of a young hand. “Merlin,” Gaius sighed. The boy let the candle go out and he looked up to his foster father.

“Where is Arthur?” he asked.

“He is sleeping off the charm I had to use on him,” the physician sat down on the small wood slat bed. “You won’t be able to play with him for a while. I don’t even know if it is possible, but you will need to learn not to use your magic…”

“I’ll die!” Merlin cried out. The doors to his clothing dresser swung open and crashed against the wood wall. He stood up and balled his fists at his side as tears fell from his eyes. “I can’t stop using magic! I’ll die!”

“Merlin!” Gaius scolded. His eyes softened though as he watched the young boy cry. He sighed, “Merlin, you just need to learn to control it. Until you can the king has banished you to these chambers. You need to stay in your room if someone is in the main room, but I’ll be here for you. You won’t be alone.” The boy sniffled as large arms engulfed him, his hair was smoothed down from the back and the promise was repeated, “You won’t be alone.”


So little time in a day

Everyone has 24 hours in their day, but yet I find myself seeming to need more. I’m sure I’m not alone in that. People everywhere look at a clock and figure out their own juggle of their schedules.

My life is chaotic with four kids, their special needs appointments, my full time job, and going to school full time. Add in that any quiet moment I have, I write. I can’t help the stories that flow through my mind.

I find that at the end of the day I have thought through most of a new book. I get the outline finished as fast as I can, but writing the actual stories takes a lot more time. With more outlines than I ever have time to write, I sometimes wish I could split myself in two.

Besides posting my stories on this blog for everyone to read, I find myself needing a journal as well. Between posts of my books with new chapters every week, you will find at least one journal entry. Am I pulling time from writing, though? I need a place for random thoughts, and I find I cannot sit without writing down a book instead. This is my escape during break time at work.

No worries to my fans. My stories are being written in a timely manner so far. I will have an update every week. I will try to keep two stories going at once, as well. My style is always to write more than one at a time and I don’t see myself changing that anytime soon.


The Storm Chapter One

The Storm

France Gamble

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC. I don’t own Frozen, either.

Chapter One

The giggles filled the halls as two boys ran from each other. They passed by statues made of wood, tapestries of ancient maps, and passed guards who side stepped them easily. Maids and servants smiled at the two very different looking children as they continued on their path through the castle to the gardens below. Running through the open doors and into the refreshing sunlight from the tomb like area of the entrance was like being born into a new world for the kids. The younger one, with dark black hair, tripped and gasped as the ground came quickly at him. He pushed himself back up into a kneeling position to see the blond, older boy holding out his hand to him. Both of them smiled as the younger child was brought up to his feet again.

As they continued their journey through into the center of the large garden the giggles ceased and they panted from their play. The air was crisp with a hint of winter on the way. The older boy rubbed his arms a bit, and the younger one took off again farther away from the castle. “Wait for me!” the blond yelled as he followed his friend.

Laughing again they collapsed onto a patch of still green grass. As the giggles stopped they rested staring at the bright white fluffy clouds lingering through the sky above them.

“I wish it could stay like this forever!” the dark haired boy said as he pointed both hands to the sky above.

“No way. I can’t wait to become a knight. I am going to be the best ever!” the older boy emphasized his point by swinging his right arm like slashing a sword against a cloud.

“I don’t want to hurt things and swords hurt things,” the boy sounded sad. He sighed as his friend lifted up onto an elbow to look directly at the younger one.

“That’s because you’re a girl, Merlin,” the boy laughed.

The young boy pouted up at his friend, “That is really mean, Arthur.” He crossed his arms and looked away.

“Oh c’mon! You’re such a whiner,” Arthur Pendragon fell back against the lush grass. “I’m bored.”

Merlin smiled as a thought came to him. “Okay,” he said. He stood up quickly and held out his arms to his side. His eyes flashed bright gold and all around them the gentle fluttering of wings started to happen. Arthur sat up and smiled brightly as a rainbow of butterflies encircled them both.

“Let’s catch them!” Arthur yelled.

“We can’t hurt them!” Merlin warned. The older boy rolled his eyes but agreed to not hurt the creatures. They spent hours and hours until the sun had set beyond the forest catching and releasing the mass amounts of bugs. Merlin lifted his right hand to the sky and the butterflies flew off and into the distance.

“I wish I could do that,” Arthur said, “but a bit less girly stuff.” They walked back in the direction of the castle. At the main steps inside the court yard, they said they would see each other the next day, and both split to their own chambers and areas.

As Arthur was being dressed for bed by one of his nurse maids, Merlin was being lectured by his Uncle about safety in the castle. “Time and time again, Merlin, I have said you cannot run through the castle!” his uncle shook his head at the young boy.

“It was Arthur’s idea! He started the game!” Merlin protested. “Am I supposed to tell the Prince of Camelot that I cannot follow his orders?” The man rose his left brow at the audacity of his young ward. The boy shrunk a bit to hide behind the table he was seated at and supposed to be eating the broth given to him for his evening meal. “I won’t do it again, Gaius,” he murmured.

“Merlin, you are under my care, and how am I to teach you anything if you’re going to be kicked out of here for being wild?” Gaius sat down across from him and laid a gentle hand against the top of his raven hair. “Uther will deal with Arthur in the morning,” he promised.

“I made butterflies today,” Merlin said as he sipped on his soup.

“Hm, interesting. With the spell I taught you?” the man asked as he cooled his soup.

“Uh, no. I couldn’t remember the words, so I just made them,” Merlin admitted. The man across from him sighed, and they ate their soup in silence.

Down in the courtyard an older lady with gray hair looked up at the shinning narrow windows of the court physician’s chambers. Narrowing darkened blue eyes at something she felt from inside her she hobbled on toward the main entrance to the castle. Going through the dark corridors with her black cloak pulled tight around her, she melted into the shadows. Sliding passed the guards and into the center of the castle was easy. Quickly she made her way up a long stair case and into a darkened chamber.

On the bed covered in silk was a beautiful blond lady. Her hair was cast about the pillows as her breath was even inside her chest. The old lady walked up to the fair woman and leaning over her bed she placed a beautiful charm across the sleeping beauty’s chest. “Codladh domhain. Codladh go maith. Codladh i bás,” she whispered. The stone in the center of the charm glowed a bright red and the lady’s chest took no more air. Her lips turned a purple blue and her body paled quickly.

The lady ran from the room and right into two guards making their rounds. They grabbed onto her arms and before she could mutter another spell, one of them clamped their hands around her mouth. As one red clad guard held the foreigner, the other one went into the chambers. “My lady?” he questioned the dark room. Grabbing a torch by the door he struck a flint stick to bring light into the area. “My queen?” he asked as he approached her bed. Seeing her laying still and dead under the covers he screamed out for more guards. The one holding the prisoner set about taking her to the dungeons for later questioning.


When the world isn’t this one…

I have always been a dreamer. I was teased a lot as a child for not paying attention to the common things kids saw. I could look into a forest and see the fairies and the elves. I ran around the playground in my own world since people didn’t want to join me there. As other kids played out their own versions of Power Rangers, I was battling dragons on a far away island. The girls would play princesses or house, but I didn’t like reality to do those things. As they were all being moms to their dollies or other friends, you could find me exploring the world of being a warrior in the galaxy. Even my own sisters sometimes joined in on the fun when they were alone with me in the house, but never out in public.

I wanted to grow up to be a story teller, a bard, like in ancient times. I sat for hours even at five years old writing down my own stories and giving elaborate tales. I created space ships out of sticks and cigarette boxes I found around the house. Marbles became boulders that blocked the entrance to caves where trolls lived. My dolls weren’t my babies or children, but rather prisoners to an evil baron who needed rescuing.

Today I once again felt like my younger self. Left alone for most of the day to check for products that have expired and to set a whole new aisle after that, meant I could daydream. I still helped guests when they needed me, but those added to my daydream. Just side quests, if you will, to the end of my adventure during my eight hour shift. I am a mom now. I am an adult now. I did adventure around the world when I was a young adult in the military, but still I daydream.

During my daydream I came up with a good one shot for this month’s Gundam Wing fanfiction challenge and I wrote out the entire next chapter to The Storm. The kids are playing their own adventures and I am writing down each and every thought I had today on my stories. Later tonight I will finish my Medical Terminology work for the week so that I am free to daydream again tomorrow.

I don’t like reality, so I chose to rarely live in it. Everyday in my life turns into another adventure. I love finding out what will lay ahead for this protagonist.

Blank Slate Chapter One

Blank Slate

France Gamble

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Chapter One

“Duo!” Someone called out from the mass of people celebrating. He turned his head rapidly around, his braid flinging to his left shoulder, as he searched for the familiar face that went with that familiar voice. There was a bright blond head bobbing in the crowd. He waved his hand high to signal to his friend where he was. Suddenly baby blue eyes were infront of his violet tinted pair before he was practically crushed in an excited hug.

“It’s over!” the slightly smaller boy yelled over the throng.

“Quatre… breathing…” he choked out, and then laughed as the blond gasped and let go, “I think you broke three ribs!”

“Won’t stop you from talking, would it?” a Chinese youth asked as he stopped next to the pair. He smirked at the chestnut haired boy to show he was joking.

“Nothing could stop him from talking,” a tall European teen answered matter-of-factly. A Japanese boy stood next to him, “We could rip his tongue out.”

Duo grabbed his tongue with his right hand and tried to talk back. Quatre tilted his head slightly, “What?”

Duo let go of his red appendage, laughed out, “Wuffie is so mean. Trowa, you’re right. See Heer? I can still make noise!” He started laughing hysterically as the Chinese boy growled out, “It’s Wufei.” Quatre laughed along and they all blended into the celebration to party for the first time in their lives.


It was annoying. The sound, that is. It kept going. The rhythm kept on. What was that sound?

Now warmth invaded his senses. That was nice, he knew. He was warm and comfortable for it.

Slowly he opened his eyes. The room he was in was bright! His eyes shut again rapidly. He groaned as they stung.

“Oh-me-God! He’s waking up!” he heard a female voice say and then heard hurried footsteps rush away from him.

Footsteps again hit his hearing, this time coming toward him. He slowly opened his eyes again as a man with a black beard and black full head of hair came into his view.

Florescent lights and the sun coming in from a window made the small room very bright. The annoying sound was a heart monitor next to the uncomfortable bed he was flat on his back laying. A sheet and blanket were pulled up to his shoulders making him comfortable warm.

The bearded man hovered over him and shone a bright light into his left eye. Flinching and shying from the light, his hand came up to cover his face. “Sorry, ” the man, a doctor, apologized.

“Where am I?” he rasped, quietly, his voice cracking.

“You have been admitted to St. Francis Hospital. You are in the brain trauma ward,” the man answered. “I’m your doctor, Dr. Jamie.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m… I’m… ” He crinkled his face as he tried to think about what his name could be. He looked at the white coated guy, “I don’t know who I am,” he whispered.

The doctor once again put the bright light into his eye; this time he let him do it. He switched to the other side. “You had a very bad concussion. Let’s see what else you know, okay?” He nodded to the doctor to continue. The doctor sat at the end of his bed and said, “Okay, let’s start with the year.” He slowly shook his head. “Okay. How about your age…?” Again he shook his head. “Two times four?” the doctor asked. The boy looked at him strange and shocked, and said, “Eight.” The doctor nodded. “So, schooling is still there. Do you, maybe, remember anyone else’s names? Like friends or family?” The boy looked down at his feet for a minute and then up at the doctor, “No.”

The doctor stood up as a nurse entered the room to start tending to him. “Well, that’s alright. Does it make you upset to not know?” He shook his head a bit faster this time. “That’s good. We’re going to let you sit up in bed for a while. The remote to the TV is attached to the bed controls. The nurse here will help you with everything. I want you to stay in bed today, though. We’ll start removing things tomorrow that you don’t need any more and maybe even start getting real food slowly into you. I want to make sure that you rest today, though.” He nodded his understanding as the nurse helped him raise the bed. The doctor left the room after giving the boy a reassuring smile.


The next day, when he awoke to the sun coming through the window again, he was happy to see the doctor striding into the room to start to unhook him from things. First they changed his IV to one that just would keep him hydrated. Then the doctor did the agonizing task of removing his cathedar. When he could breathe again steadily, he asked the doctor when he would be able to eat real food. His stomach was clenched in emptiness and he really wanted to find out what he liked. He couldn’t remember what anything tasted like and he wanted to try everything off of the small menu. The doctor crushed him a bit when he told him that the nurse would be bringing him a bland diet of soups and breads.

He slumped a bit in his bed, his long hair pulled slightly and he reached up to bring it loose. The nurse came to him then with a small brush in her hands. “We should get the tangles out of your hair, okay?” He nodded and smiled at her. The doctor left with his instructions set and the nurse set to helping the boy brush out his long mane of hair. He turned in the bed to sitting on it sideways, his legs dangling off one side and he stared out the window. She knelt on the other side, behind him. It was so long that he sat on it. He didn’t know how long it was, since he hadn’t tried standing up yet, but he knew it was un-naturally long for a boy. At least, that is what he assumed since the three guys he had seen since waking up and the males on TV all had pretty short hair. She worked at it for a while, being careful to not pull at the long strands and break them. “Should I braid it?” He turned to her slightly with a questioning look on his face. “It was braided when they brought you in. I think with this long of hair it will probably be easier to care for if it was kept braided.” He nodded and turned back to being straight and looking out the window.

“Why do I have my hair so long?” he whispered.

She finished tying it off and put the black clothed lined hair tie at the bottom of the long braid, “Maybe you just like it this long. Doesn’t there have to be a reason?” she asked him. He shook his head, but he felt that the long hair was cumbersome and so there had to have been a reason he had it so long.

“I just was wondering why I can’t remember anything. My hair is long, even by female standards, and so it’s got to be hard to manage,” he told her. It was the most he had spoken since waking up. She helped him turn to sit back against the bed and smiled at him.

“Are you getting agitated at not knowing?” she asked him. He shook his head. It didn’t really bother him that he didn’t know things, but he also knew that one of these days it might become something that he’d have to really analyze.

She smiled brighter at him, but it still had a slight tinge of sadness to it he realized, “Do you want me to turn the TV on for you?” He shook his head again. He had watched a lot of TV the day before and found that he couldn’t like anything he saw on it. It was all just mindless drooling crap, he had thought. “Well then, what would you like to do?”

He thought about it for a bit and asked shyly, “Read? I think I know how to read. Can I get something to read?” She nodded and left the room. She came back in a few minutes later with a book in her hands.

“One of the nurses has a boy your age and she thought maybe you would like to read some of the books he owns. This is one of them,” she handed him a paperback novel with a picture plastered on the front. He didn’t know if it was something he would like yet, but it was probably better than drooling all over himself for the rest of the day.

He grabbed the book gently and asked her, “How old am I?”

She was startled for a minute, nodded to herself, and said, “We think you must be 12. You’re body seems to have just started puberty, so that’s why we calculated as about 12.” He nodded and thanked her. She gave him a quick hug and left the room with the promise of bringing him food soon. He opened the book and started to read the first chapter.


For the next few days he read the book given to him, slept, and ate the bland diet of wheat bread and different broth soups. He thought maybe he should have been bored with only being able to get out of the bed to use the bathroom, the bath he was helped with once a day, and nothing else to do, but he wasn’t. The book was interesting and the next book was at the nurses’ station for he had been assured when he asked if it was a series. The doctor came in once a day to check on him and see if he remembered anything. By the fifth day awake he did finally remember something. He knew his name started with a D, but that was it. Every time he tried to get his name out, his tongue would start with the sound. The doctor told him that was good and it meant that maybe he would get his memories back. He also warned not to be disappointed if he never did.

He was looking out the window and trying to think about what his past might have been, when the lady he had never seen walked in. She had on high heels and a gray business suit. Her arms were loaded with files and paperwork, which she set on the tray next to his bed. She smiled at him and held out her hand, “Good morning. My name is Alecia Grahm.”

He shook her hand, “Hello. I don’t know my name.” She nodded.

“The doctor told me. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged, “It doesn’t bother me, except that everyone keeps introducing themselves to me and I cannot do the same.” She gave him a strange look that he could not figure out and then grabbed the file on the top of her stack.

“I’ve come here because we haven’t been able to place where your family is. We have put your picture on the news a few times now and have asked around the best we can to find out who you are and where you come from. We even put it on national news stations, hoping that maybe we just hadn’t looked far enough. There has been nothing, though. I’m sorry. No one has reported you missing, either. With how long your hair is, it should have been a red flag to anyone who knew you,” she told him sadly. He nodded and looked back out the window. So, he was nameless and no one was missing him. He didn’t care that he had no memories, but how come no one wanted him? She continued, “I’m here, though, to tell you that we need to place you with a foster family. At your young age, we cannot guarantee that you’ll ever be adopted, but living with a foster family will allow you to go to school and at least be a normal preteen.”

He turned his bright violet eyes to the woman, “I am leaving the hospital soon?”

She nodded. “The doctor called me in because, even though you still are getting your strength back, you’ll be leaving in a week from here. I know you can’t walk far on your own yet, or do strenuous things, but you were in very good shape when you came here.” She used her hand to push back a strand of her brown shoulder length hair to behind her ears as she opened the folder she had laid on the bed next to him. “We need to put down a name for you in the system. Do you have any idea what you want to be called?”

He shook his head, “I just know that my name had started with a D.”

“Okay, so do you mind if I named you right now, then? We will change it when you remember your name,” she said to him.

He waved his hand at her, “Be my guest.”

She nodded and said, “Daniel sound good to you?” He nodded. “Okay, any idea what your last name might have been?” He shook his head. She again nodded and said, “Okay, how about Daniel Francis? We’ll use the name of the hospital.” To him that seemed very fitting to be named after the place that saved his life. She continued on, “How about your birthday?”

He sighed, “I can’t remember anything, and so whatever you choose for all of these questions is fine with me.”

She sighed as well, “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable instead of making all of these choices for you. Let’s put your birthday down as the day you woke up, okay? June 1st. You will be going into 7th grade this coming September, but sometime next month a teacher is going to come to your foster parent’s house and test you to find out where you are in your learning. We want you to be comfortable. I’m your social worker, so I’ll be visiting you every so often as well to make sure that you’re adjusting well to where you are staying. We want to make sure that, as you heal and grow, you do so as best you can.

“Your first home is going to be with Mrs. Snow. She is an older lady whose children have all left the nest. She fosters teenagers mostly, but we’re going to place her with you because she has her home open currently. You will be the youngest child she has ever had, so I hope you remember that. You will be attending the public middle school in her area. She is within walking distance to it, and I’m sure she’ll help you get there the first few times in September. She has no other kids with her currently, so you’ll be alone in that sense. That isn’t saying she won’t get some, though. She is a kind lady. I think you’ll like her a lot.”

He nodded and again turned to the window.

“I’ll leave you to rest, but this week the doctor told me that you will be required to gain your strength again. I am going to go and tell Mrs. Snow that she is going to have you in her home on Saturday, okay?” He nodded and they said good-bye to each other.

‘I am 12 and without a home or family. No one knows who I am. How can I have gone 12 years without anyone knowing who I am?’ he thought as he watched the tree outside his room sway in a breeze.

~*~ Tsuzuku ~*~

A place for me!

Hi everyone. I figured that I didn’t have enough time on my hands already, that I should get myself a place to put things down. Thoughts and updates to stories will happen here. For right now this will be my first post, but look for me to be copying my stories into this blog from now on. Thank you everyone for your support and love! Remember, I have a Facebook as well! Look for me under my name!

-France Gamble