Accidentally In Love

I’m not sure how it happened, exactly.


That stupid cowboy charm, or the silence harbored behind his deep, plum-hued eyes, or whatever it was, wasn’t supposed to affect me. I wasn’t destined for love. I was unlovable.

At least, that was what was pounded into my head during the five years I spent at my mother’s sister’s house. I will never call her aunt. She hated my mother, thought she had abandoned the family when she ran away and married my father, who was the lowly pool boy. She pasted on a smile whenever I was around, but I overheard the conversations she had with my uncle:

“Alessi should have drowned her at birth. Chelsea will never amount to anything more than her mother was- a slut.”

Even thinking of it was like sticking shards of broken glass straight through my heart. I had never known love outside of my relationship with my mother, which had died along with her. Cancer did not only take my mother; it robbed me of my spirit, of my soul, no matter how cheesy that sounds.

I had to get away from it all. I couldn’t bear the accusing glares, the whispered conversations, the pretense of acceptance. So, the minute I turned eighteen, I collected my mother’s meager bequest and headed off for the next ferry- to where, didn’t matter. I just needed to go.

Of course, I didn’t expect the boat I was on to crash. I didn’t expect to float like a piece of driftwood until I reached a tiny, deserted island. I didn’t expect to be one of several survivors. But life’s funny that way.

In a way, I guess the boat breakdown was my mother’s way of looking out for me, even after death. Although I hated the thought of living on the island- named “Sunny Island” by one of the female survivors, who was extraordinarily optimistic, even after the events of the day- I couldn’t help thinking, Maybe this is what I need.

And so that’s how I found myself volunteering for the role of “rancher.” The next day was riddled with tutorials on how to work a series of rusting, poor-quality tools to cultivate land and such. Sweat was pouring down my back, my throat was dry… and I felt strangely invigorated. I felt alive. And I loved it.

(Sorry, this is a shorter chapter than I'd like it to be, but I didn't want to draaaaaag it on...)

Of course, even the smoothest of roads has a pothole or two. I came across my first one when he arrived at my doorstep.

I groggily opened my door, only to find myself face-to-face with a leather hat. “Um…hi?” I said to the person behind the hat. He raised his face to look at me- no, scratch that. He glared at me. I startled immediately and my defensive reflexes grasped my instincts.

“I’m Vaughn. I’m the animal trader for this island. Mirabelle, the owner of the animal shop, said I should come introduce myself.”

”Well, I’d certainly hate for you to do anything you didn’t want to,” I said with an air of false sincerity, eyes wide in an innocent expression.

“…” He just stared at me blankly.

“I’m Chelsea. Well, I guess you filled your obligation to visit me,” I snarled. I realized, too late, that I was being a jerk, but I couldn’t help it. I hated feeling like a burden to anyone.

“What?” Vaughn’s voice held no apologetic undertones, only confusion. “Listen, I don’t know what your problem is. I was trying to be neighborly.”

“Oh, yeah, because mommy said so,” I growled.

He was silent for a moment (I was sensing a pattern here), and then he spoke. “My mother is dead.”

My heart softened immediately. “I- I’m sorry.” My face turned red almost on cue, and I felt sick. He bit his lip and turned away from me.

”Whatever. It’s not like you care. I have work to do.” With that, he turned on the heel of his boot and stalked away, leaving me staring after him, slightly dazed.

Farmwork, as I quickly learned, was not all fun and games. Blisters were rising on my palm as I repeatedly attacked the rough soil with my hoe, and sweat was pouring down my neck, back, and face, dampening my hair and soiling the only clean clothes I had left. It’s not like there’s Laundromats on deserted islands, you know.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath and to look at the work I had completed. Satisfied, I slid my eyes over the three fields I had plowed that day. My mouth watered just thinking of the delicious foods I could make. Right now, I was living on chocolate bars from the store and the wild herbs I found around the island. It wasn’t exactly the nutritious diet a farmer’s life requires, but it kept me from collapsing in the field.

I set my hoe down and walked over to the little stream by the edge of the field to refill my watering can. After filling the metal canister to the brim, I kneeled down on the bank and cupped my hands. I splashed cool water onto my face, feeling trickles of water leaking down my chin and dripping onto the front of my shirt. I didn’t care. I bent over to splash my face again, when-

“Hey.”

“Augh!”

While I was in the process of bending over, the voice from behind me had made me turn around, which wasn’t the best idea when half of your body wants to go one way and the other half wants to go the other. I toppled into the river.

It was times like this that I really wished I knew how to swim.

I struggled to keep my head above water, flailing my arms wildly and screaming under the water. As bubbles floated to the surface, I could feel my lungs tightening. Terror took over, and I flailed even harder.

My vision started to fade; my thoughts became heavy and dull. One final thought passed through my head at the brink of consciousness:

This is it. This is what I've been dreading. I'm going to drown, just like Daddy.

After what seemed like hours, a pair of rough, calloused hands suddenly grabbed me under the arms and pulled me out of the water. I landed on my back, hard, gasping for air. I coughed up about ten liters of water, and Vaughn patted my back, apparently trying to help me out.

“You okay?” he asked stoically. I sat up, still trying to catch my breath, and motioned for him to wait a second until I recovered from the shock.

“Uh…sorry. Probably shouldn’t have scared you like that,” he muttered as I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. “I just wanted to… apologize. For the way I came across the first time I talked to you. I’m not exactly social. But I can be really rude. Sorry.” For some reason, his face flushed. He pulled the rim of his hat even further down on his face.

Finally, I found my voice. My teeth were chattering, but I still managed to choke out, “N-no reason t-to ap-pologize. I-I was t-the j-jerk. S-s-sorry.”

Vaughn sat there, watching me shiver uncontrollably, and then he got up. “Come on,” he said, reaching a hand down to me.

“W-what?” I said. My mind wasn’t functioning properly yet.

“I said come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, and then he dropped it like it was on fire.

“W-where are we g-going?”

“I’m going to take you back to your house.”

“B-but I still h-have work t-to do!” I protested, looking over at all of the untilled soil that I had planned to cultivate. Vaughn followed my glance, looked back at me, and then sighed.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll finish up for you. But you need to go dry off, get changed, and then call it a day. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“S-sounds like a p-plan to m-me. B-but I don’t have any c-clean clothes.”

“Oh.” Vaughn flushed, and then looked over at the entrance to my farm, which led to the main town, where he was staying. He sighed, and then said, “Hold on a second. You go take a shower or something, and I’ll go see if Julia has any clothes you can borrow.”

“O-okay,” I agreed. I looked at him, and tried not to stutter as I said, “Thank you.”

He blushed and walked quickly, pacing slightly in front of me, until I went into the farmhouse.

After I finished my shower, I peeked out of the bathroom door to see a neatly folded pile of clothes on my bed. I smiled to myself.

*fangirl squeal*
AWESOMESAUCEEEE~
That's cuuuuute~ Is there gonna be more?

Ohhhh yeah. ^^"

It's definitely not my best, but I was extremely bored and not really in the mood for rewriting and editing, so I'm like "whatever, I'm just going to write a drabble." I was BORED! XD Besides, I <3 Chelsea/Vaughn stuff.

That's exactly how I made the ClairexSkye stuff~
Fangirl dribble is like... An air vent for your inner wild fanatic~ XD

"if you don't post another on soon i'll bite your ear off, then i'll put ketchup and musterd on it with some broccoli, and it'll be a huge hit!" (lol avatar abriged series quote!)

Same as Cierra! But, I'll call it "Kid's Ear Who Didn't Continue Her Story." (Parody of Avatar Abridged Series. o.o)

Gah! *writes frantically*

"better hide those ears, mwahahahaha!" *gets out ketchup and mustard*

*pulls hat over ears*

Get's knife and fork ready*

“Oof.” After two weeks, I still wasn’t exactly used to all the strenuous work that was required daily of a farmer. In eight hours, I had managed to water eight fields of crops, stave off weeds and logs from my carefully cultivated ground, collected aforementioned logs to use as upgrading lumber material, and finally, caring for my brand new chicken, Rieke.

My rucksack didn’t exactly seem like the best place to keep a chicken egg, but I had no fridge to store it in. And I wasn’t exactly hungry, either. And though I realized that it was stupid of a “starving artist” (which would be a fantastic description of me if sweating like a pig was an art) to give away potential food. But what else was there to do with it?

I headed into the main town as the sun began to sink in the sky. The carpenter’s daughter, Elisa, and the merchant’s son, Charlie, giggled as they ran past me, obviously involved in a heavy-duty game of two-man tag. I smiled as I watched a blur of curly blonde hair and deeply tanned skin tumble past me on the sidewalk. I loved little kids. It had saddened me to be an only child, but my mother had been more than enough company for a young girl. She would say, as we worked at cleaning other people’s houses for money, that we were princesses, and that we needed to clean the castle before the prince arrived so that he would be able to sweep us off of our feet. My mother loved fairy tales; if it had to do with queens, princesses, or fairies, she valued it.

I shook my head, trying to shake the memories. But, as I have learned over the years, recollections are not like a pesky bug. You can’t just swat them away.

My feet had directed me somehow to the door of Mirabelle’s Animal Shop. Quickly, I thought of the day of the week- Wednesday. Vaughn’s here today, I thought, stomach turning. I didn’t exactly know why I was avoiding him. I think it had to do with the fact that not only had he seen me at my most vulnerable, but also because I had no doubt been portrayed as another “damsel in distress.” The femme fatale character was fine in fairy tales; in real life, it made you weak.

Nevertheless, he had helped me out. I owed him at least the courtesy of a visit. With a pounding heart, I pushed open the heavy door. I heard the gentle chiming of a bell that was hung on the door as a scent of hay and animal odors hit me like a wave. It was appealing, despite the negative connotations attached to the idea of an animal store.

It didn’t take long to locate Vaughn. Tufts of silvery hair poked out underneath his worn-for-the-weather cowboy hat. Purple eyes focused their gaze on me, locking on me like a laser on an intruder. I would never admit it, but it made me feel about two inches tall. I forced a smile and walked up to him, ignoring the stares from Julia and Mirabelle that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight.

“Hi,” I said, surprised to find my voice was timid and meek.

“…” He didn’t reply, just continued to stare at me. I nervously chuckled, and then dug the fragile egg carefully out of my knapsack.

“Um, I- I brought you this. To…to thank you…for pulling me out of the water?” I added when his facial expression took on a confused look.

“Oh. Is it really for me? Thank you. I like it,” he said, gently taking the egg from my hands. For a brief millisecond, his rough fingers slid over my palm. My breath caught in my throat at the touch, but I remained composed. He noticed the spark, too, because he jerked away suddenly and cleared his throat. His face had slid back to an apathetic look, and I hummed nervously.

“Uh. Well. That was all I wanted to say.” I stood there awkwardly for another minute, and then, when he didn’t say anything, I continued, “So…uh, bye.” Humiliated by my behavior, I turned and dashed out of the Animal Store, not glancing at a single person until I reached home and stared at myself in the mirror.

“Stupid girl.” The phrase seemed more accurate than ever as it left my lips.

"Awesome story!"

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. Not bad. I don't know how to rate it. Aren't you supposed to make a new paragraph when someone is done speaking? That's the step in writing you know. Dialogue is the important thing and how to assemble it is much more important. I assemble dialogue like this:

"No everything is fine with Missy." I said petting the maltese.

"I trust you with my puppy-wuppy named Missy." Missy's owner replied.

This is just an example. But anyway, not bad.

Not nessecarily. You can continue on with a paragraph as long as a new character doesn't speak.

Example:

"I don't know what to think," I said dumbfoundly. It was surpisingly truthful. I had no clue how to react to this bombshell. I stared over at Dean, wondering where my best friend had gone.

"Me niether," he muttered, not meeting my glance.


The only real time you have to start a new paragraph when you're writing a dialouge scene is when a new person speaks. If the same person is speaking, you don't have to make a new paragraph.

I never heard of that dialougue. That might be simple dialogue. The one I mentioned was advanced in my grade. Well that's what my teacher said.

Where do you live? This is pretty basic dialouge from where I am...

I shouldn't say my addresse but I'll say my state. Illinois.

Hmm. Well. Maybe it's just a preference kind of thing. O.o

My teacher said that the dialogue I use is something I learn in 8th grade and that will move me to high school. I'm in 8th grade right now. So your dialouge might be simple/basic. What grade are you in?

I'm in eighth as well, but I take gifted courses, so I'm on about an eleventh-grade level.

O.O Funny very funny. I take gifted courses as well! I'm in a gifted class called The Math And Science Academey/Acadamey.

I'm applying to a very prestigious high school's magnet program. There's definitely a very, very high chance that I'll get in. I'm definitely thinking about being a journalist someday. ^^

I'm already in a program like that. Not the exact though. Different place.