Just keep reading by Lolita

"Just Keep Reading"

By Lolita the beer wench

Rating PG: For violence

Setting: about the year 1507

"Oh, my little Carlos. I love you" "I love you mommy."

Carlos climbed into his mother's lap, nuzzling into her neck. He was a skinny boy of eight, with straight golden locks and adorable round eyes. His mother hugged him tightly, trying to protect him against the cold Spanish wind. Her small wooden shanty was less then desirable, but it was all the mother and son could do. Life was hard in their small town, where most of the villages were poor. Stealing was the only way to survive, and even that couldn't really be called survival. Carlos and his mother lived in constant fear of the guards that patrolled the stony streets.

"Mama, tell me a story." the boy said innocently.

"Alright once there was a little boy-"

"And he was arrested for stealing." A gruff voice boomed into the small shack. Carlos and his mother looked up to a tall, burly man in shining silver armor. At his left hip sat an old pistol; on his right a long sword. His hand clutched the pistol. "The Spanish guards caught them, beat them, then threw them into cells where they rotted and died." He said as he took a step towards them, his face revealed in the stream of light that poured through the crack in the wall. "The End" he said cruelly. His dark brown eyes seemed like black pools of ink. Carlos held his mother closer. "Mama." "It's alright," she whispered, rising to her feet. Holding Carlos in her arms, she bravely walked past the guard and out the door, where three more men in armor stood waiting. One of them pulled Carlos from his mother's arms and threw him to the ground. "You'll walk," he barked. Carlos' Mother dove into the guard, knocking him to the ground. The other two pulled her off and the one she tackled sat on her thighs. Carlos lay only a few feet away, watching in horror as the man ripped apart the buttons on the front of his mother's dress. "Run Carlos!" She screamed through her tears. "Run! Don't look back, just go!!!"

He took a moment for the cries to register into hi brain, but when a guard made a grab for him, Carlos scrambled to his feet and started running. He dodged the people in the streets who were on their way home from a day's work. As he ran deeper into the twilight, his mothers' screams echoed through the sky, then were all to quickly silence by a gunshot.

Carlos rundown the dirt road until he could hardly breath, then he stopped and threw up in a patch of grass. He leaned against a stone building for support, panting. Never before had he run so fast, and never before had he been so scared. When he finally caught enough breath to move, he began walking on the road out of town. His thoughts flew furiously through his mind. Should he g back for his mother? Would she know where to find him? He hoped that he would see her face waiting for him up the road, but deep down inside he knew she was dead.

The sky grew dark quickly, and the wind grew much colder. Carlos pulled his jacket tightly around him. The moon illuminated everything with an eerie glow, like liquid silver. On each side of the road were fields of nothingness. Carlos walked through the night, shivering and frightened. It had been an eerily quiet night. He walked numbly towards dawn, hardly noticing anything but his own fear. The sun peeked out just as he stepped into a big city almost twenty miles from his home. Carlos was cold, lonely and hungry. The townspeople started to come out, giving the city life. When the sun hit the top of the church steeple wonderful smells began dancing through the streets. Carlos' stomach grumbled loudly. He stepped nonchalantly into a bakery, plotting his next move. His mother taught him exactly what to do: how to create a diversion, how to hold the steal, and most importantly: how to escape. While passing by a display of pies, he kicked a basket of rolls and they spilled over the floor. While the scrawny baker grouchily gathered the rolls, Carlos grabbed one and stuck it into his pocket. Humming slightly, he left the shop and pulled out breakfast. He bit into the warm bread, his taste buds sighing in gratitude. A strong hand clamped onto his shoulder, and Carlos spun around to a well-built man in armor and froze.

"Excuse me, son, did you pay for that?"

Carlos nodded.

The guard eyed him skeptically. "Come with me, young man..." His mother's words rang in his ears; he threw the roll into the man's face and ran. The guard took off in a flash, but the young boy out-ran him in the twists and turns of the city streets. Carlos fled down a side street toward a large farm with a four-foot stone wall surrounding it. He hurdled over it, landing on the top of an extremely steep hill. He stumbled down helplessly, his little brain scrambling in his head. After spinning for what seemed like years, he hit his head on a rock and blacked out.

* * *

He awoke later to a young woman shaking him gently. "Are you ok?" He crawled away from her quickly. He didn't know where he was, what had happened, or even his own name. Hi whole body ached "No, It's ok!" The woman said softly. "I won't hurt you."

Tears lined the boys' bright green eyes. "I don't know what happened," he croaked.

"Well it looks like you fell down the hill. Are you alright?" "It hurts." He started sobbing uncontrollably. "Who are you?" "I'm...I'm your mother." She seemed hesitant when she said it, but he didn't notice.

"You are?" The woman nodded. "What's my name?" "Miguel, honey. Your name is Miguel." She took his hand and together they walked back to the house.

To this day, Miguel occasionally has nightmares of a woman being beaten by a strong man, and a young boy running through the twilight.

THE END



	"Just Keep Reading" By Lolita the beer wench Rating PG: For violence Setting: about the year 1507 "Oh, my little Carlos. I love you" "I love you mommy." Carlos climbed into his mother's lap, nuzzling into her neck. He was a skinny boy of eight, with straight golden locks and adorable round eyes. His mother hugged him tightly, trying to protect him against the cold Spanish wind. Her small wooden shanty was less then desirable, but it was all the mother and son could do. Life was hard in their small town, where most of the villages were poor. Stealing was the only way to survive, and even that couldn't really be called survival. Carlos and his mother lived in constant fear of the guards that patrolled the stony streets. "Mama, tell me a story." the boy said innocently. "Alright once there was a little boy-" "And he was arrested for stealing." A gruff voice boomed into the small shack. Carlos and his mother looked up to a tall, burly man in shining silver armor. At his left hip sat an old pistol; on his right a long sword. His hand clutched the pistol. "The Spanish guards caught them, beat them, then threw them into cells where they rotted and died." He said as he took a step towards them, his face revealed in the stream of light that poured through the crack in the wall. "The End" he said cruelly. His dark brown eyes seemed like black pools of ink. Carlos held his mother closer. "Mama." "It's alright," she whispered, rising to her feet. Holding Carlos in her arms, she bravely walked past the guard and out the door, where three more men in armor stood waiting. One of them pulled Carlos from his mother's arms and threw him to the ground. "You'll walk," he barked. Carlos' Mother dove into the guard, knocking him to the ground. The other two pulled her off and the one she tackled sat on her thighs. Carlos lay only a few feet away, watching in horror as the man ripped apart the buttons on the front of his mother's dress. "Run Carlos!" She screamed through her tears. "Run! Don't look back, just go!!!" He took a moment for the cries to register into hi brain, but when a guard made a grab for him, Carlos scrambled to his feet and started running. He dodged the people in the streets who were on their way home from a day's work. As he ran deeper into the twilight, his mothers' screams echoed through the sky, then were all to quickly silence by a gunshot. Carlos rundown the dirt road until he could hardly breath, then he stopped and threw up in a patch of grass. He leaned against a stone building for support, panting. Never before had he run so fast, and never before had he been so scared. When he finally caught enough breath to move, he began walking on the road out of town. His thoughts flew furiously through his mind. Should he g back for his mother? Would she know where to find him? He hoped that he would see her face waiting for him up the road, but deep down inside he knew she was dead. The sky grew dark quickly, and the wind grew much colder. Carlos pulled his jacket tightly around him. The moon illuminated everything with an eerie glow, like liquid silver. On each side of the road were fields of nothingness. Carlos walked through the night, shivering and frightened. It had been an eerily quiet night. He walked numbly towards dawn, hardly noticing anything but his own fear. The sun peeked out just as he stepped into a big city almost twenty miles from his home. Carlos was cold, lonely and hungry. The townspeople started to come out, giving the city life. When the sun hit the top of the church steeple wonderful smells began dancing through the streets. Carlos' stomach grumbled loudly. He stepped nonchalantly into a bakery, plotting his next move. His mother taught him exactly what to do: how to create a diversion, how to hold the steal, and most importantly: how to escape. While passing by a display of pies, he kicked a basket of rolls and they spilled over the floor. While the scrawny baker grouchily gathered the rolls, Carlos grabbed one and stuck it into his pocket. Humming slightly, he left the shop and pulled out breakfast. He bit into the warm bread, his taste buds sighing in gratitude. A strong hand clamped onto his shoulder, and Carlos spun around to a well-built man in armor and froze. "Excuse me, son, did you pay for that?" Carlos nodded. The guard eyed him skeptically. "Come with me, young man..." His mother's words rang in his ears; he threw the roll into the man's face and ran. The guard took off in a flash, but the young boy out-ran him in the twists and turns of the city streets. Carlos fled down a side street toward a large farm with a four-foot stone wall surrounding it. He hurdled over it, landing on the top of an extremely steep hill. He stumbled down helplessly, his little brain scrambling in his head. After spinning for what seemed like years, he hit his head on a rock and blacked out. * * * He awoke later to a young woman shaking him gently. "Are you ok?" He crawled away from her quickly. He didn't know where he was, what had happened, or even his own name. Hi whole body ached "No, It's ok!" The woman said softly. "I won't hurt you." Tears lined the boys' bright green eyes. "I don't know what happened," he croaked. "Well it looks like you fell down the hill. Are you alright?" "It hurts." He started sobbing uncontrollably. "Who are you?" "I'm...I'm your mother." She seemed hesitant when she said it, but he didn't notice. "You are?" The woman nodded. "What's my name?" "Miguel, honey. Your name is Miguel." She took his hand and together they walked back to the house. To this day, Miguel occasionally has nightmares of a woman being beaten by a strong man, and a young boy running through the twilight. THE END