It's Not That Simple ((Chapter Seven))

Fiction By Madeline // 6/13/2011

Hey readers! Okay, so thanks for your feedback last chapter. This one throws another "curveball" if you will. It's your choice to believe what a certain character says or not. Completely up to you. And if this is getting dramatic, well, the title basically says it all. Ellie's life is NOT easy, sadly, and it's more fun that way! haha! XD But if things begin to seem unrealistic, I apologize. Life in general, a normal life, is often at times unrealistic. It's the way things work. It's what makes things interesting. SO! Sorry for my long, boring paragraph. Just another heads up. And thanks for reading!!! I will finish this book eventually all thanks to you guys........


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I was giddy over the next several days. Phillip took me out every afternoon, dined with us, and then bid me goodbye with a quick kiss. Nana’s eyes filled with pride whenever she saw us together.

            “I haven’t seen Brandon in some time,” I commented as we walked along the riverbank, our hands linked, on an especially sunny afternoon. The tress provided for some shade, so it wasn’t uncomfortably warm. A small breeze weaved its way through the oaks and sycamores.

            “He’s been busy,” Phillip replied quickly. “His studies are failing and I’ve requested that he stay home and work on them.”

            “Why does he have to be a tutor?” I asked shyly, staring at the ground. Phillip pulled me to a stop and frowned. It distorted his usually perfect features.

            “It’s my wish. Since I’m now the man of the household, he must do exactly as he is told. And I think a tutor would polish him quite nicely. He’s rather…rough if you will. Their father pretty much let them do whatever they pleased. Now that he’s gone, I’m going to assume more of an authority position.”

            “How’s Marion?” I asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

            Phillip shrugged indifferently. “Fine, I suppose. I haven’t been to see her since she was taken to prison. I think it best that way.”

            “I want to visit her,” I mussed thoughtfully, staring off into space.

            “Really? I’ll take you,” Phillip volunteered eagerly.

            “I’d love that!” I said with excitement. “When?”

            “How about right now?” Phillip pulled me toward the main road anxiously. I was surprised by his sudden burst of enthusiasm.


            The walk to the jail was spent mostly in silence. It wasn’t very far. We came up to the narrow, gray brick building with the intimidating electric fence. Slowly I walked up to the door, letting myself in.

            “Arms out, feet apart,” a uniformed man instructed us formally.

            I did as I was told. He ran his scanner over my body. I was glad I hadn’t brought my keys with me. It would have been embarrassing to beep.

            Phillip, however, did beep. I stared at him with surprise. The officer removed a pocketknife from his suit jacket.

            “May I ask why you have this?” The officer asked, holding it up.

            “For protection,” Phillip answered immediately

            “Boy, in a town as small as this, you don’t need protection.” The item was chucked into a nearby trashcan. “Go on in.”

            “Why do you carry a knife?” I asked quietly as we walked on, frowning.

            “Protection! I’m a businessman. I go out of town often.”

            “Fine,” I said, taken aback by the rude tone in his voice.

            We came up to a desk, where a refined looking woman was sitting behind, intently reading some papers.

            “Yes?” She asked without looking up.

            I stepped forward. “I’m here to see Marion, um…”

            “She’s already out in box seven. A guy came to see her and left about ten minutes ago. Go on ahead. Next!”

            I moved forward, turning around. Phillip was gone. I tried not to let my panic rise as I walked forward through the groups of people. Criminals sat behind glass walls, where people talked to them through a black telephone. Marion was near the end of the life. My throat thickened when I saw my dear friend in orange-and-cream stripes. Her beautiful black hair was now a tangled mess, falling past her shoulders. Her eyes had deep purple under them, hinting at lost sleep. Her fingernails were dirty and over grown. She also looked thin--very thin.

            “Marion!” I said, sliding into the chair sitting in front of her. The warm brown eyes I knew so well widened in surprise. She picked up her phone, and I picked up mine.

            “Ellie. You shouldn’t have come!”

            “I miss you,” I said, ignoring her hurtful jibe. “And I’m so sorry, Marion. It’s my fault this happened. I found the necklace.”

            “It’s okay.” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse. “Don’t worry about it.”

            “I just want to ask you one thing,” I said softly, trying to avoid the stares of the other people around me.


            “Why did you take it, Marion?”

            She sighed, looking exasperated. Carefully she looked over her shoulder, and her voice came back on the phone.

            “I can’t tell you with people watching and listening to us.”

            “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

            “Lean in and say the following.”

            I leaned forward, surprised by her instructions. “Okay.”

            “Now say, ‘Mom misses you.’”

            “Mom misses you?”

            “Try to sound convincing.”

            “Mom misses you, Marion. She cries every night.”

            People around me started to look uncomfortable. A couple even turned away.

            “What the-“

            “Now say, ‘your boyfriend is sorry.’”

            “Your boyfriend is sorry, too.”

            Several people turned away, giving me sudden privacy. I smiled.

            “Okay, one more thing and people will feel totally rude about listening in. You have to say it, even if you don’t want to.”

            “Is it going to be bad?”

            “Yes. Quite.”

            “Fine,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

            “Say, ‘and it’s not your fault my boyfriend cheated on me with you and you cheated on your boyfriend. Really. I get it. He’s totally cute.’”


            “Just do it and then we’ll be alone.”

            “Fine. Ugh. It’s not your fault my boyfriend cheated on me with you and you cheated on your boyfriend. Really. I get it. He’s totally cute.”

            Several people walked away from the area.


            “Human psychology. They wanted to listen to our conversation until you willingly gave the ‘gory’ details.”

            “You’re trying to distract me.”

            “Yeah…I am. But we only have five minutes until the officer comes to take me back to my cell. Can we leave our conversation as friends?”

            “Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

            “If I tell you the truth…you’ll be mad.”

            “I want to know.”

            Marion took a shaky breath. “Promise you’ll be okay?”

            “Yes! I promise.”

            “Okay. Phillip did it.”

            I gasped. “Stop lying!”

            “Ellie, you promised. He really did do it. He stole it and framed me. I think he’s working with someone at the prison.”

            “How could you say that? Phillip’s been nothing but nice to you ever since your father left you.”

            “I think Phillip’s the reason why dad left. It wasn’t by choice.”

            I sighed. “I’m done listening to your…junk!”

            Marion’s face crumpled and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Go then, don’t believe me. Brandon does and I don’t need you!”

            I opened my mouth but no sound came out. A man approached Marion from behind. He unlocked her handcuffs and grabbed her arm, roughly leading her from the room. I watched her leave, feeling slightly like a monster.

            “Did you have a nice visit?”

            I jumped with surprise and turned around to face Phillip. “Um…yeah.”

            “What did you discuss?”

            “Nothing much. Just…life.”

            Phillip offered his arm, smiling at me. “Good. You needed some girl time.”

            I still hadn’t grabbed his hand. I stared down at it, hesitating.

            “What’s wrong, Ellie?”


            And I took it.



 This is so not simple! Poor Marion, if that's true (which I'm inclined to believe). Poor Ellie. Please write more!

Laura Elizabeth | Tue, 06/14/2011

The best stories are those that are focused, unassuming, and self-confident enough to trust the reader to figure things out. --

I'm sorry, but since WHEN is

I'm sorry, but since WHEN is it Phillip's job to make sure Brandon behaves himself???  UGGH!!!! The ARROGANCE of that evil man!!!  And yeah, I COMPLETELY believe Marion.  Phillip's a jerk.  Kill him immediately.  And painfully.  AND SOON!!!!

Bridget | Tue, 06/14/2011

"I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question." - Harun Yahya

No longer team Philip

It took me awhile, but I am no longer team philip. I disagree with Bridget though, I think that philip should somehow have a lifetime prison sentence, and all his pupils that he ever taught should know of his DISGRACE ! Btw, were you actually planning on reading my story, or were you just being polite? :)

Kathleen | Tue, 06/14/2011

Thank ya guys!! :)

THANK YOU EVERYONE!!! But I may not kill Phillip. It depends on my mood, I suppose. XD 

I will read as soon as I get the time--just been on long enough to post this and such. So, thanks! Started and got halfway thru the beginning before I had to get off. It's really good and intriguing so far. It may take me awhile, though.

Madeline | Tue, 06/14/2011


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