LCNWRIWE- The Noir side Options

[Frisk]

So yeah, I'm writing two. If that's a problem Shio can tell me and I'll drop one. If I do, I'd like input on which one to keep writing, but I guess it doesn't matter. *Ahem*


DAY 1- IN WHICH OUR PROTAGONIST IS A CHILD WHO IS NOT FOND OF RELIGION


“Hey, do you remember how we met? It seems like so long ago, that it didn’t actually happen. Like it was all part of a dream I eventually had to wake up from. Memories are weird, huh? People tend to smooth over the rough parts. It casts everything from our youth in a positive light. I don’t want to do that, but I know I will, like everyone else.”

Adam sat on the left side, in a row near the middle. He sat there every Sunday, without fail, next to his grandmother. He stared at the ground while older people came and went, commenting on his cuteness, his shyness, his intelligence. Anything they could think of, because that was the custom. Make a round and talk to everyone before service began. And every Sunday, his grandmother would brag about how smart he was; how his grades were the top of the class, how he was reading on an eighth grade level in elementary school. Even at that age, he knew she just wanted to inflate herself. Something about the way she talked, blowing up each and every achievement to anyone who would listen, aggravated Adam.
For the most part, church meant nothing to him. The ideas of heaven and hell, of a creating father and loving savior, were all just that to him: ideas. The fiery passion which his preacher imbued into every word, stirring the congregation with a fervent desire to repent for their wrongdoings… Swept by Adam completely. Honestly, he hated it here. The only people his age avoided him and thought he was weird, and he didn’t like being around adults. He wanted to just go home and never come back, but any mention of skipping church reduced his grandmother to tears. She was so sure that he would lose his soul. In the end, it wasn’t worth the trouble or the aggravation. He kept going, ignoring the people around him.
The floor of the church was a worn-down green carpet. He amused himself by running his foot up and down it, drawing designs in it. His forehead rested on the back of the pew in front of him, obscuring his face from the rest of the church. Sometimes his grandmother would lightly tap his leg and tell him to sit up straight. He didn’t. He slowly traced circles over and over. It was still about twenty minutes before church started. Twenty minutes of his life he would never get back. He sighed and leaned his face up to rest his chin on the pew, and his eyes met someone else’s, centimeters from him.
It was a girl, somewhere around his age. He had never seen her before. She had bright blue eyes, and they were staring at him curiously. She smiled at him, and he saw small dimples form in her cheeks. Her hair was brown, a really light brown, and it fell down in waves. They sat there for a while, neither saying anything.
“…Hi,” he finally said. She was silent. “What’s your name?” After watching him for a few more moments, she answered.
“Anne.” She started to say something else, but Adam’s grandmother cut him off.
“Christine! Is this Dana’s child? She is just the cutest thing. How’ve you been? Oh, I haven’t been too good myself,” shut up, “but you know how it is. Adam’s dad is up to his ways again. But I guess I can’t complain too much. I know the lord will see me through. So, how have you been, Christine?” Anne looked at Adam’s grandmother for a while, then back to him, still smiling. She turned from sitting sideways along the pew to facing her whole body towards Adam, sitting her knees on the pew. She began silently mimicking both of the adults talking around them. Adam couldn’t help but laugh. Then he noticed that her right arm was wrapped in a thick cast.
“What happened to your arm?” he asked.
“She fell and broke it when she was climbing a tree house,” Christine said. Anne’s face turned red, and she looked at Christine angrily.
“Mawmaw!”
“What?” Christine asked. Anne didn’t say anything, but she continued to stare sullenly at the old lady for a while. Then she suddenly turned back towards Adam, with a strange look on her face.
“Hey. Let me see your hand.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“No.”
“Pleaaassee,” she whined, utilizing every drop of cuteness she could muster. Adam had already lost.
“No.” But he could still fight.
“I can make your hand smell like flowers,” she said. And that was what ended it. Bear in mind that he was still in elementary school, and was quite an impressionable and naïve child. He stuck his left hand out towards her, and she began to trace circles around it in much the same way he had drawn circles in the church’s carpet. Then she started doing fancy loops. Finally she raised her hand and brought it down into a poke on the center of his. Curious and confused, he raised his hand to sniff. The instant he did, she smashed her hand into his. It hurt like hell. And she just laughed.
“Want to come over to my house after church?” she asked.
“That hurt.”
“Sorry. So, do you want to come over?”
“I’ll ask my grandma,” he said, rubbing his sore nose.

After a valiant amount of whining and arguing, Adam’s grandmother agreed to let him stay at Anne’s until church started again for the evening. Once the invitation to join our lord and savior Jesus Christ in blessed redemption had finished, he left the church with Anne and Christine. He sat in the back, watching the terrain pass by quickly and quietly. It wasn’t long before they were at Anne’s house. Actually, Adam remembered it vaguely. Maybe his grandmother had brought him here once before.
Anne led him through the house into her living room and pushed him onto a couch placed near one corner. She then ran to the opposite corner and grabbed a massive chest, straining to pull it with her good arm. Adam thought about helping her, but she had laid this seat on the couch out for him. It would be rude to just get up after that.
“O…kay. Here’s,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath, “all my toys.” She went to the back of the chest, and lifted the lid. The amount of toys was staggering. She had action figures, and dolls, and those weird little things made of wire and beads. You know the one. She had video game toys, and coloring books, and and everything. She looked at Adam and put her hands on her hips, smiling smugly. She was just so proud.
“Well? What do you think?”
“You have some cool toys. I guess.” Her proud look turned to shock. Payback for the face beating.
“What? I have the coolest toys. I bet you don’t have toys as cool as me. Don’t even lie.”
“Whatever you say,” Adam said, picking up a few action figures.

After several hours of intense action figure battling, Christine came in with a tray of pizza rolls and drinks for Adam and Anne. The two of them paused their play long enough to devour the food.
“You know what I like?” Anne asked, in between pizza rolls.
“Yes,” Adam said. Anne just looked at him, confused. “But just so you can tell me anyway, what?”
“I like eating noodles.”
“Me too. My mom used to make them for me and my older sister.”
“But I like them not cooked.” This girl was weird. She stretched out at the table and took a large sip of her drink. She was easy to talk to and get along with. She could be annoying, but she was fun to annoy back. He wondered why she had never come to church before. His grandmother had said she was Dana’s kid, so she must not be Christine’s. Maybe Dana was Christine’s daughter. He wondered if Christine was going to start bringing Anne to church every Sunday.
“Alright you two, start getting ready for church. It’s almost time to go back.” They finished up their food and got in the car.
No one said anything about the two of them coming to church together. No one even seemed to notice. The old people were too busy making sure everyone was okay to pay attention to two kids, and the other kids went right on ignoring anything to do with Adam. They went back to their pews and talked until service started. When it did, Adam kept himself distracted by watching every twist and turn of Anne’s hair as she moved.

“You know, after that, I didn’t really mind coming to church as much. I finally had a friend there. After that, I sat at the pew watching the door every morning until you showed up. As I got older, I was made an usher. I took up offering and sang in the choir, and all that other stuff. But every Sunday morning and night, I also helped at the front door, opening it and shaking hands. I waited for you to get there, so we could smile at each other. You made church bearable for me.”