BOOK REVIEW: All the Light We Cannot See

The reason I picked up All the Light We Cannot See is because I was intrigued. Here's a basic, spoiler-free summary of the plot.
   Taking place in World War II, All the Light We Cannot See follows the stories of Marie-Laure and Werner. Marie-Laure is a sixteen year old blind French girl. Werner is an eighteen year old German soldier. Marie-Laure's father works at a Parisian museum and when the German army is invading France, he is given a very valuable stone to protect. With the stone and his daughter in tow, he flees to the city of Saint Malo. Werner is a German orphan who has an uncanny ability to fix radios. This ability gets him noticed by the German army. He is sent to a private school and finally put out in the field. His unique gift leads him to Saint Malo, where his and Marie's paths may cross. That's honestly all I can tell you without spoilers, so if you haven't read it, go read it. It's a very moving, profound book that is well worth your time.


Now for a completely spoiler filled review for those that have read the book, or those who want to read the review even if they haven't read the book. If you're one of the second people, shame on you, and go pick up the book!




The structure of the novel was something I particularly liked. It was divided into overarching sections with subchapters in each section. The first two or three chapters of a section were taking place at the climax of the book, then the rest of the section would be spent switching between Marie-Laure and Werner's past lives and what took them to Saint Malo. About half way through the book we were introduced to Sergeant Major von Rumpel and would occasionally get a chapter from his point of view. The structure was very intricate and conveyed the story in the manner which I feel the author intended.


Now let's discuss characters. Obviously our co-protagonists are Marie-Laure and Werner.
Marie-Laure is a very curious and intelligent girl, despite her disability. She a very admirable character throughout the novel. She's very brave, even if she claims she is only getting up and living her life as she can. her intelligence is shown through her ability to navigate her way around first Paris and then Saint Malo. Marie-Laure is the embodiment of light and purity throughout the novel, ironic because she can see no light (see what I did there?).


Werner on the other hand, has a bit more complexity and darkness to his character. He is an orphan who is had to look after his younger sister Jutta his entire life. When he finally gets the chance to make something of himself, he takes it. Can we blame him? No. Like Marie-Laure, he is a very intelligent and curious character, even though both of their schoolings have been very limited. Just as Marie-Laure is fascinated with novels, Werner is fascinated with radios. We have to admire Werner's determination, his intelligence to fix radios, and yet we are rather afraid of the dark side of him we see while he is at school. Fredrick, who is Werner's close friend, is continually beaten, picked on, and ultimately destroyed by other students and officers. Werner tries to think of other things, tries to help Fredrick in subtle private ways, but cannot stand up for his friend publically. This emphasizes Werner's drive and desire to be accepted by these men at the academy, to not make himself the weakest target, because he is rather small for his age. When Werner and his comrades are traveling around searching for unauthorized radio broadcasts, we again glimpse a darker part of his spirit. He does his job, even if it costs innocent people their lives. But he isn't feeling guiltless, he doesn't feel good about it. We can see his inner turmoil at this by his refusing to write to Jutta and when he becomes haunted by the little girl's face. For me, one of the most moving parts of Werner's character was when he saw Marie-Laure for the first time. His instant desire to protect her, to help her, was very moving amidst the turmoil he has been through to this point.


I want to just briefly touch upon the foil between Fredrick and Werner. Both boys have a similar core value deep in them, yet Fredrick acts upon his. Fredrick has a soft heart, and does not become course as the academy wishes him to be. Werner's desire to be accepted and successful overrides his human intuition on good and bad. When the officer at the academy has the boys throw water at the prisoner, Werner does not feel good about it, but he does it to fit in. Fredrick does not. The foil between these two is used to show how our actions on our intuition and conscious can effect the turn out of our lives. I also would like to point out how Jutta's actions are more inline with Fredrick's than Werner's were. I feel that if Jutta and Fredrick had had the opportunity to meet, they would have really been the best of friends.


The relationship between Volkiemer and Werner was a very interesting one to me. Volkiemer was known as a giant, we often saw how ruthless he could be, yet he was always very gentle and kind with Werner. it was obvious that Volkiemer felt a softness towards him. I think Volkiemer shows that no one is purely good or purely bad. Volkiemer is supposed to highlight this quality in each of us, only in a more extreme light.


I'll be honest, at first I had very conflicting feelings about the end of the book, but I loved it. I loved it. Some people might be worked up that Werner and Marie-Laure seriously spent less than a day together. It was so fleeting, we read 500 pages for a fleeting moment. But isn't that what was so beautiful about it? It was so honestly real. We're not always going to have that huge moment where we have someone come bounding into our lives to stay forever. Sometimes people are fleeting. I think that was the beauty of it, was that even seventy-years later, Marie-Laure remembers the day she had with Werner and the three times he had saved her. It was very touching and beautiful to me when Jutta and Marie-Laure were talking at the end of the novel.


Now for Werner's death. I cried. 100% honest, I sobbed like a baby. I cry in pretty much every book I read, so don't judge me. I swear I'm normal (ish). Werner was haunted now by all the people he'd killed, all the bad decisions he made.  I don't believe that Werner would have ever been whole again if he had survived the war. He was struggling, he was haunted, he was broken. I don't know if he could ever face Jutta knowing how she would feel about all he had done. I don't think a relationship between him and Marie-Laure would ever really work out because of how broken he was inside. I think him walking onto a mine field that he (more accurately his army) set up was very symbolic of his own inner self destruction. The first step he took away fromm the orphanage, away from Jutta, he was on a path of self destruction. His one light in this path was his brief encounter with Marie-Laure. Now don't get me wrong, I wanted them to be together, I wanted them to be together so bad! I feel like together they were light, they were curioustiy and intelligence and innocence and experience and they were light. But now, they are all the light we cannot see. They, we, never got to see how a relationship like that would pan out, if he had lived, if there hadn't been a war, if he had been born French. Now they are all the light we will not see.


Overall, sad book, horribly sad book, but also so incredibly moving as well. Each character relationship was so complex and interesting and each so uniquely different from the last. It was a moving book that is differently deserving of the awards it has won already and will hopefully continue to win.


So sound off in the comments if you have anything to add, if you disagree with anything I said or if you feel differently about the book. Just be kind people, because if there is anything to take from Marie-Laure and this book in general, I think it would be kindness. Be humane to others, be a Jutta, a Fredrick, a Marie-Laure to the world. Don't diminish the light inside of you, don't allow it to join the ranks of other's lights we can't see. The world wants to, needs to, see your light.

Disadvantages of Being a Reader

I've been writing since I was ten and reading long before that. Over the years I've read countless romance novels, hundreds of adventure books. I've read stories of hopeless lovers overcoming obstacles, of people discovering themselves on one incredible journey, or finding a love that is worth fighting for. I'm a big fan of books, obviously. There are some serious advantages of being a reader, a) books don't leave you, don't want to hang out with you, b) you've lived countless lives through different characters c) studies show that readers tend to be more sympathetic and understanding. But there are some disadvantages of reading all these stories. We, the avid readers, dream about having a story that is novel worthy, a love that brims people's eyes with tears, an adventure that makes people realize something within themselves. A life changing moment where everything suddenly becomes crystal clear. Some people say we are unrealistic or childish for thinking these things, but I don't think so.
I think we are optimistic. I'm not saying I think everything in my life will work out perfectly and even my trials will be perfect because I know that is not true, but I also know that without hope, dreams, imagination, life would seriously suck. I think this outlook for adventure is what keeps us excited, because life is full of story worthy adventure, it's just up to us to identify them.
So my dear readers and dreamers, in the words of One-Handed Thug From The Tangled Pub, "Go, live your dream."

Thirty-Seven Letters

    The alarm sounds and my eyes fly open. I’ve been waiting a year for this day. Today is the day I get to read the letter addressed to me. I’ve been waiting forever to read her last words to me.

       The first time I had met Calyn she had been a sophomore in high school, and I was a senior. That year we had become really good friends.  She had been fifteen so I never asked her out. Don’t get me wrong, I had wanted too. By the time she was sixteen I was almost ready to go on a mission: I couldn’t get attached to her before I left. Throughout my mission she would email me occasionally, but then about seven months before I was to come home, the emails stopped. And I never knew why.

The last time I had seen Calyn she was waving good-bye as she drove away. I vividly remember calling her the night before I left for my mission.  I thought she was crying by the way her voice sounded, but I didn’t say anything about it. I had told her I would see her in two years. And I honestly believed that I would. I think the biggest shock was when I came home and learned she was gone. It was two days after I got home when I picked up my phone to call her. I remember my mom putting her hand over mine and telling me she needed to talk to me.


About six months into my mission Calyn found out she had cancer. “Why didn’t she tell me,” I asked my mom.

“She told your sister she didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want you to think about coming home,” my mom’s eyes welled with tears.

“She talked to Jarin before she…before...” I couldn’t say it because I still didn’t believe she was gone.

My mom nodded, “She gave Jarin something to give you when you came home.”

 

I stood in the doorway of Jarin’s room, watching her at the computer. Her fingers rattled away on the key board. “Jarin?”

She turned around, her bright smile fading when she saw me. “Mom tell you?”

I nodded, trying to keep the tears away. “She said Calyn had given you something for me.”

Jarin nodded as she went to her bed, pulling a box from underneath. It was an old box with Calyn’s sleek writing across the tope: Wilder.  

            My little sister handed me the box as her tears dripped onto it. Soon I found that my tears had joined hers on the lid of the box. Jarin wrapped her thin arms around me, the box in between us. I don’t remember how long we stood there, holding onto each other, crying.

                That night in the safety of my room I opened the box and found a short note.

                Wilder,

            I’m sorry, but I need you to do this one thing…well actually its thirty-seven things. Each of these letters is addressed to a person and has a date. If you want to do this, please go in order. Don’t skip letters. I know it’s silly but it means a lot to me. On the date of the first letter give it to the person it is addressed to, read it with them and then move on to the next one.

            ….I’m sorry.

           

I pull my jacket on as I pull myself out of the memory.  I had made it to the thirty-seventh letter. And the letter was addressed to me. For the last year I had delivered the other thirty-six letters. I think I know what she was trying to do when she wrote those letters. Each of the letters was addressed to a mutual friend of ours, someone who had experienced something with us. Each date had been specific to when that experience had occurred. They were all three years apart from whatever the situation had been.

The first letter I delivered was to her mother. Her mom read the letter aloud, it was about the day we had first met and when she had come home and told her mom about it. She told her mom she was sorry and she loved her.

The second letter was to a friend from school. The third was to one of the kids we had worked with. The fifteenth letter was to our government advisor. The twentieth letter was addressed to Calyn’s dad. The twenty-fifth letter was the one year anniversary from when she learned about the cancer, and she had addressed that to her sister. The thirty-third letter had been to my sister. The thirty-fourth was addressed to my parents.

The thirty-seventh was addressed to me. I have the letter tucked in the pocket of my jacket as I make my way to her grave. There isn’t a certain place where she wanted me to read this, but I have a feeling she would want me to read it with her.  The cemetery is deserted when I arrive. The clouds gather thick and grey overhead. I push a hand through my hair as I walk towards where she is buried. 

Tears drip from my face as I sit down next to the grey stone. I trace the name engraved there.

Calyn Jay Hardings

March 14, 1996 – April 25, 2013

I take a deep breath and pull the letter out of my pocket. The handwriting across the top isn’t hers. I break the seal of the envelope and withdrew the letter. My hands are visibly shaking. I take a deep breath before I begin to read the thirty-seventh letter.

Hey Wilder.

If you’re reading this, then thank you for delivering the other letters. And if you aren’t reading this, then I guess these words shall just stay in space. But that isn’t such a bad thing is it?

I think you probably already guessed what those letters where for. I hope they took you through the last two years of my life. From when I met you to when you left. And then everything that happened after you left.  Wilder, I am sorry I didn’t tell you, but you see why don’t you? I didn’t want you to worry and I didn’t want you to think about coming home.

When the doctor first told me I had cancer I couldn’t believe it. It was like a numb feeling and then this stabbing pain. I kept thinking why did this happen to me? But I think it turned out to be a blessing hidden deep, deep in disguise. I met so many amazing kids while I was in the hospital. A four year old boy named Aden recently lost his leg due to cancer, and a little girl, Oliva, just got her wig and Wilder, it made her so happy. I realized there are worse things than having cancer at seventeen. I could have had it when I was seven, before I got to live life, before I got to meet you.

Remember when I used to say you’ve changed my life and you would just laugh at me? I want you to take me seriously right now. You changed my life. The day I met you, you smiled right at me and made me feel right at home. Since then I’ve considered you to be my best friend. I thought a lot about you when you were on your mission and I missed you like crazy. And I thought about what it would be like when you came home.

Maybe I’m just getting the guts to say this now because I know I won’t be there, but I had hoped we would still be friends. In fact, I wanted to be more than friends. I have since I was fifteen. But after you left, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

Then I started going through the chemo therapy. That’s when I really became friends with Jarin. She was there for me when no one else was, Wilder. I seriously love your sister, please let her know that.

There are water marks from where her tears landed while she wrote this, and new marks from where my tears join hers. I angrily push the tears off my cheeks and continue reading.

Do you know what today would have been? One year from the day you should have gotten home. One year from when I would have seen you again. Wilder….I miss you and I’ve been so lucky to get to know you. And I’ve got to tell you that I

There are smudges from where she had erased and re-erased. And that is the last thing on the page. That is the last thing I get to hear from her. The letter just ends there. A single post it note is stuck to the inside of the envelope.

Wilder. She didn’t get to finish this letter before she passed away. I hope you know what you meant to her.

            -Kara

Kara is Calyn’s mother. I would never get to know what Calyn wanted to tell me but I have a pretty good idea that it’s what I want to tell her. I push the tears from my face as I lift myself off the ground. I carefully fold her letter and tuck it back into my pocket. I stand above her grave, gazing down at the headstone for a moment.

                The rain begins to fall from the sky. It drops from the clouds to the earth, cleansing the earth of impurities, washing away the dirt. “I love you too,” I whisper to her, to the rain, to the world. With those words on my lips I turn and walk away, the thirty-seventh letter seeming to burn inside my pocket.

 

 

 

 

Rebel

  For years the building seemed to call to me. It was nothing but an old, run down, yellow-bricked building. It had been abandoned for almost a century, ever since the third world war. It was a run-down building sitting in a run-down town. The color on the bricks had almost been worn away and the roof had crumbled in a long time ago. It was nothing extraordinary. It looked…well, it was deserted. But there was something so strange about this building. As if it were a magnet and I was a piece of metal. I was inexplicably drawn to it. The shadow loomed over me as I stood before this building I had longed to enter. I knew myself all too well. If I waited another moment I would chicken out. Without another thought I pushed against the wooden doors.

 For a moment all I could see was darkness. No natural light penetrated the abandoned halls of this building. Slowly shapes began to emerge in my view. There was no dust on the floor. Actually there was no dust anywhere. The inside of the building was in perfect condition. Long metal tables were neatly placed throughout the room, papers were left scattered across the tops. It looked as if the workers were only on a lunch break and would be back any moment. My eyes drifted to the stairs that led to the second floor, they were in perfect condition, but the material they were made from didn't match the rest of the building. The steps were made of crude wood while the rest was a slick metal. The stairs had been replaced. Mindlessly I made my way from room to room, searching for any sign that would tell me why I had been drawn here.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" A deep voice shouted. Panic gripped my heart like a vice and instincts took over like autopilot. I began to run. I didn't know where I was running to, or who I was running from. All I knew was that I was running. I could hear footsteps pounding on the floor behind me. I was being chased, and from the sound of the steps, they were gaining on me. But I couldn't stop running; if I stopped it meant I didn't have a chance. If I kept going, I at least had a shot. A slim shot, but a slim shot was better than no shot.

 Arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground. A scream bubbled up inside me but was cut off by a hand clamped over my mouth. "I don't want to hurt you," the deep voice whispered. "I just need to know how you found me. I'm going to let you go now, okay? Are you going to scream or try to run again?" I shook my head, moving his hand with me.

  "Good," he mumbled as he released me. I stumbled forward, putting as much distance between me and this stranger as I dared. Turning towards him the first thing I noticed were the markings. Both of his arms were crisscrossed with dark brown markings. They seemed to be in some kind of pattern, but I couldn't tell what. My eyes flickered up to his face. He was young, maybe eighteen. Blond hair fell onto his forehead, nearly covering his electric blue eyes. A thin, pale scar on his cheek stood out against his otherwise tan skin.
"Who are you?"
 "Jarin." I said, resenting the fear that caused my voice to quiver.
"What's your full name?"
"Jarin Believe Jones."
 His brown eyebrows arched up, "Believe? Are you serious?"
  I put a thin hand on my hip, "Yeah I'm serious. Is there something wrong with my name?"
A slight grin graced his face, "Not at all. I actually like it."
 "And what's your name?"
A full grin overcame his face, "Rebel."
 "Your name's Rebel and you had the nerve to laugh at my name?"
"You'll learn that my name happens to fit me very well, thank you very much." 

 My breath caught in my throat. Rebels. There were whispers of rebels in the outer cities, in the abandoned cities. But that couldn't be true....could it?

  "Are you....Are you one of the rebels?" My fists clutched the fabric of my pants, trying to hide their shaking.

 He cocked one eyebrow and grinned, "Follow me and find out." He brushed past me, walking down the hall. I stared at Rebel's back for one second before running after him. I had to know.

Two Years

   The stage lights glared in her face. Jordynn could hear the low mumbling of a crowded auditorium. Of course it was packed; it was graduation day. She breathed in slowly. It was one five minute speech. It wasn't anything she hadn't done before. This was easy compared to the rest of her senior year. The ceremony seemed to pass in slow motion. The only think she could think about was if he was there. He had said he'd be back by graduation, but that didn't mean that he was. After the ceremony she did all the traditions. Taking pictures with friends and family, tons and tons of pictures. But the moment she had a chance to escape she did. Pulling the heels off her feet she made her way up to the football field. The metal bleachers sat empty before her.
   She choose a seat in the center of the stadium and just sat there, thinking. For four years this had been her life. Now this part of here life was at an end, and she had another life to live in three months. It was a surreal feeling. It felt almost as a dream would. Jordynn wasn't sure she had been sitting there when she heard the approaching footsteps echo off the bleachers. Her head snapped up, her breath caught in her throat as she saw her best friend for the first time in two years. He looked so different, so grown up. His hair was shorter, and he seemed taller. But he was still Josh. She stood up and made her way into his outstretched arms. Her graduation cap tumbled from her head but she paid no attention to it. They seemed to stand there, just holding each other for what felt like forever. He pulled back and stared at her. Pushing a strand of black hair from her flushed cheek he whispered, "Hi." Hi. It was such a simple thing to say after two years of not saying anything.
  Jordynn grinned, "Hi." They seemed to stare at each other for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. He leaned down towards her, she held her breath, though she wasn't sure why. His lips were a hair away from hers when he paused. "May I?"
   "Yeah," she breathed. He smiled slightly before leaning down to kiss her. She couldn't believe it. Two years he had been gone, sometimes it felt like he might never come back. She pulled back and just smiled at him. It seemed to be the only thing she could do. Smile.
   Again he pushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "We go to college in three months. I know three months together isn't enough to make up for two years apart, but it'd be worth a shot. To see what happens, I mean. Do you...I mean...would you.." his voice faltered.
  She slipped her hand in his as they began to walk away from the football field, "I know what you mean."
  "Good," he whispered and then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

BOOK REVIEW: Dangerous

Book Review: Dangerous By Shannon Hale
    Hello Internet World! So I got this book yesterday and just finished it. The only time I put it down was for school. So I naturally I need to share it with someone! Anyone! The book is Dangerous by Shannon Hale.  Shannon Hale is probably best known for Goose Girl, Princess Academy and Austin Land. Her books are usually directed to either a younger audience or an adult audience. I've read all her books and really enjoy all of them. Well now she's published one directed to the teenagers. Dangerous. And Shannon proves she can write to all audiences.
    So spoiler free review?
     Dangerous is about Maisie Danger Brown, a completely ordinary teenager from Salt Lake City, Utah. Maisie has been homeschooled because she is missing her right arm. She was born without it. Her small world contains her parents and her friend Luther, who is also homeschooled. Maisie has always dreamed about being an astronaut and when she gets the chance to enter a sweepstakes to go to an astronaut boot camp she takes it.  And she wins. When she gets to the camp she meets Jonathan Ingalls Wilder, who is just called Wilder (like all teenage boys who suddenly to go by their last name).  They are put into fireteams for drills. Maisie meets Ruth, Mi-sun, and Jacques. The winning team gets to go up to space. Wilder is added to Maisie's team as they go into space. And this is where things go crazy.
     Throughout the book I thought "oh it'll be okay because it's a kids book right?" Then I reminded myself, "Oh wait....nope I pulled it outta the teen section..." Shannon Hale really did a great job with this book. There is love and hate and emotion and fear and adventure and just...ahhh! I really loved the book. Probably in my top 10. I think Maisie has a strong, yet relatable character, and there is just so much about this book I just loved! Go read it! NOWWWWW!!!!! :)
   Now for the spoiler FILLED review! :)
     I'm usually not a science fiction kinda girl, but I really loved the way Hale handled it. It wasn't pure science fiction, not pure adventure, not pure romance. It had a little bit of everything which I think will appeal to a lot of people.  I think Hale developed such deep characters that I just fell in love with.  So let's do this by the two main characters because I don't know how else I should go about this.
Maisie Danger Brown: I love Maisie's character. I think she is really strong yet vulnerable at the same time. She isn't just standing there like, "Oh someone save me!" But she isn't like "That's right I have no fear. Eat dust aliens!" She's afraid yet still does what she needs to do to save herself, her family and the world. Maisie is missing her right arm, and has been since birth. I love that Shannon created a flawed heroine. Maisie doesn't let her disability stand in her way. She is all around a strong character with a relatable personality and emotions. It was so interesting to watch her grow throughout the story. As she battled her feelings for Wilder, you could see her becoming more aware of the world and losing a bit of her innocence. Her character progression didn't feel forced by the writer, it felt natural. As if it could happen to any one.  So Maisie defiantly is going onto my list of top heroines.  Agreed?
Now while I love Maisie, I am so completely intrigued by Jonathan Ingalls Wilder.
Jonathan Ingalls Wilder: I can't even begin to explain the emotions I went through with this guy. Gosh I was more confused than Maisie.  When we first meet him he has this bad boy kinda vibe. He is very flirty and charming. I instantly liked him. Some will probably disagree with that. I liked when he took his dad's car and just drove with Maisie. That might have to do with the fact that I want it to happen to me, but just look past that for a minute. I feel like there are three phases of Jonathan Ingalls Wilder's character development. For the first half of the book he is called Wilder. For the second half Maisie calls him the Wild Card and for the last few pages she refers to him as Jonathan. I think each of these name changes represent something within Wilder and within Maisie herself. Going by a last name is something that a lot of teenage guys at my school do to put on a show. It's almost like they are detaching themselves, trying to be something they are not. I think this is what Wilder is. It is a show. He puts on a show to please his dad, to please the people around him, to please Maisie. When she starts referring to him as The Wild Card it is his "hero" name. With the token he has become another person. The Wild Card suggests something dangerous and uncontrollable, which is exactly what he has become. Maisie thinks the tokens have turned him into another person completely. The Wild Card starts when Jonathan breaks away from his dad and starts doing his own thing. It's another shift in his character. Now my personal favorite is Jonathan. It's a real name. No more showy Wilder, no more superhuman Wild Card. He is just Jonathan. Jonathan isn't putting on an act for anybody. This is the climax of his character development.
Overall I really loved this book. I thought the characters were all very interesting, the plot was strong and unique, and while there was a slight love triangle it wasn't the focus of the book and didn't take away from the plot or characters. I would highly recommend this book!! 
  Has anyone else read it? I don't know anyone else who has and would love to get some feed back or opinions besides my own. Did you like it? Or did you think it was cheesy and cliché? If you've read it let me know in the comments below!  Oh and any book recommendations, toss those down there too!

The General

   Eliza Hardings rung her hands together, attempting to twist the anxious shaking from them. The war had ended five weeks ago. He had promised he would return within three weeks of the war. It had been five weeks since the nation had been rejoined and General Adams hadn't been seen or heard from. The worst of thoughts ran through her mind. What if he had been killed at the Battle of Gettysburg? What if he was seriously injured? What if he just decided he didn't love her anymore? Decided that she wasn't worth returning to?  She tried to go about her chores on the farm, but the anxiety for General Adams's safety was ever present on her mind. Would she ever know what had happened to him?
   She sat on the old milking stool by the cow. As the milk plopped into the tin bucket, the tears began to run down her cheeks. When she heard the barn door creak open a minute later she furiously wiped the tears from her face. Her step-father loathed when she cried. He called her weak, a coward who couldn't face the world. If her mother could only see how her second husband was treating her daughter now that she was gone. "Sorry sir," she said as the footsteps approached. She braced herself for the slap that was sure to come. The man was right behind her, yet no stinging slap came.
    "Eliza?" A deep voice questioned. Her breath caught in her throat. She feared turning around, feared that she had only imagined the beloved voice. A gentle hand touched her shoulder as he whispered her name again, "Eliza."
     In a second she was on her feet, staring silently at General Jared Adams. His blond hair had grown since she had last seen him, almost two months ago. His blue eyes seemed locked on hers. An open gash ran down the right side of his face. She reached out, her fingers softly trailing over the mark. He smiled down at her before pulling her to him. Five weeks had been too long for both of them. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly.
    The door to the barn flew open, startling both Jared and Eliza. Her step-father, Edward, loomed in the doorway. The expression on his face was nearly as dark as the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. "Who are you?" Edward's words slurred together: he had been drinking far too much again. Eliza clutched her skirt tightly with her fists to hid the shaking of her hands. She knew what her step-father was capable of; she had been the victim of his violent fits more than once.
    Jared stepped forward, placing himself between Eliza and the drunken man. "General Jared Adams of the Union, sir." Jared stuck his out towards Edward. The older man just stared at it for a moment before Jared lowered it.
  "Get out of my barn."
   "Yes, sir," Jared reached behind him, taking her hand in his, "Come on Eliza."  Her knees felt weak, fear constricted her breathing: she thought she might pass out. As the couple came closer to Edward he stepped into their path, pulling a revolver from the band of his pants.
  "She's not going anywhere, solider." The gun swung lazily from Eliza to Jared and back again. Fear paralyzed her. For four years she had lived with the constant cloud of fear hanging over her heart. Jared dropped her hand, and then lunged towards Edward, attempting to wrestle the gun from him. A shot sounded and the bullet ricocheted across the building, striking a wooden beam.
   Jared was stronger than her step-father, and managed to get the gun away from him before tossing it across the barn.  With one punch to the face, Edward was sprawled unconscious on the dirt floor.  "Come on," Jared beckoned her forward. They walked out of the barn, leaving the drunken man where he had fallen.
   Jared's blue eyes pierced hers, "Is there anything you need to get?"
  Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.
  "Is there anything you need to get before we leave?" He clarified.
   She shook her head, her dark brown hair swinging over her thin shoulders, "No, I have nothing of value." He didn't wait for her to say anything else before he lifted her onto his horse. General Adams mounted behind her and nudged the horse with his heels. As they began to ride away, Eliza almost swore she could hear a scream followed by a gunshot. She shuddered and leaned back against the young general. She was safe now. Fear could no longer be her companion.