More emotional trauma for our heroine.....read on, I dare you!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad & Bonzi (the bored)Cat.
part 72 (that's like six dozen!).

“Tell us, Mr. Bond, have you any children?”

“No! Wait! This is all just a mistake!” he shouts as he is taken through the door.

This was too good to be true, thought Lizzie Jane, but she was so excited that she did not stop and think that the man may not be telling the truth. Also, he appeared to be a gentleman. What harm could come from that?

She decided to take him up on his offer.

The police was back at Reverend Walker’s home. “We may have some bad news,” one of the officers reported.

“When the Mobile police got to the address she called from, she was gone. They questioned some boys who last saw her and they said that she got in a car with a unknown male. The Mobile police department has been watching that address very carefully and have planted a plainclothes woman in the area to investigate the suspicion that white slave traders work out of that section of town. From the description given by the boys, the male who has her in his car may be the suspected ringleader of the group.”

“You mean---“ began the shocked Reverend.

“Yes, she may never be heard from again,” replied the officer. “She may be shipped to another country and sold as a slave — if the male is indeed the person the Mobile police think he is.

Life around Casa Bond tries to return to normal...but just what does THAT mean???

A poem and a statement all wrapped up in one tidy package. I wrote it this morning after a conversation with a friend... that really led to places that it shouldn't have but was a fun and entertaining conversation, anyway!

In this chapter, Madam Martinique is called away to deal with an emergency, leaving Billie and Tod alone with whomever might be running the commissary. There we learn about Billies connection with his sister, how it leads (indirectly) to him being caught shoplifting, and see the beginnings of what may turn out to be his first crush.

Madam Martinique's Finishing School - Part 3
Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown
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After reading the story “The boy who wasn’t seen, and the Girl who couldn’t speak” by Rankan, I got to thinking about that storyline and decided to try out my own ideas. I hope that is okay.
 
“Why?” he looked into her incredible brown eyes. “Why are you doing this… Going to a summer camp with a guy from school who is considered the plague?”

“Because I owe you so much, Eric. You have been such a friend to me and helped me in so many ways.”

Now Eric was really confused. It must have been written all over his face, because Samantha continued.

“Do you remember my sister, Summer.”

Of course he did. Summer and he were in art class together and shared an interest in comic art. Summer committed suicide a year and a half ago. The whole school had to go through group counseling. Eric nodded.

“After Summer left us, I went through her stuff.” Samantha explained. “I found her diary and sketch pad. She wrote a lot about you and how talented you are. How you made her bad days a little bit better. How your drawings and your sense of humor helped her make it through each day. After I got closer to Summer through her stuff, I found you on line. I started reading your comics, and admiring your art. That is when I started to email you. I wanted to get to know you better. To see everything my sister saw in you. I just couldn’t do it at school, I’m not strong enough to deal with all the cliques and pressures. Anyway, I thought by spending the summer with you, I could get to know you better, like my sister did. Maybe through you, I can understand her better. Besides, it sounded like you needed a friend, and I felt it was the least I could do to help you out.”

This story dedicated to all the TG editors out there who volunteer your time. You ladies and gentlemen are the backbone of our community.

This story is dedicated to my good friend Darkside, who inspired me to reach beyond what I thought I was capable of writing.

This story is dedicated to my TS brothers and sisters, who have the guts to stand up to the world and say, "I'm not going to live a lie anymore."

As Dave and Jenny crossed the threshold and entered Castle Bond, it was easy to see they were both well past the point of exhaustion. As Dave dropped their bags just inside the door and they both plopped down on the sofa in the front room, he spoke, “Home, sweet home. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to be anywhere in my entire life.”

“Oh yes, that part was great. It was everything else that went on that wore me out. And I still have decisions to make.”

This story is dedicated to all the survivors of child abuse, both physical and emotional. May you find the support and strength to deal with it like I did.

This story is dedicated to Susan M. Bidwell - a young lady who died before her time.

Dinner is served, for Greg, Cathy looks like the main course....

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 69.

“Who–who are you?” asked Lizzie Jane in a frightened voice.

“Oh, just a traveling partner,” the voice answered. “I ride the rails often. How about you? Are you a run-away?”

“No — no — I was just trying to get in out of the rain.” Lizzie Jane replied, still with a nervous voice.

“Rain? The sun is shining, hon.”

“Well, it was raining.”

The man smiled. Lizzie Jane adjusted her eyes to the light. The man had on tattered clothing, a short beard and two front teeth missing. “You must be from North Alabama. I understand that it was raining cats and dogs up there.”

“I am from Carter’s Bend”, replied Lizzie Jane.

“Yep, know right where it’s at”, answered the man. “You are in South Alabama — a fer piece from Carter’s Bend. My name is George.”

“I am Elizabeth Jane, but my friends call me Lizzie.”

“Well, can I be your friend — Lizzie?”

“Well — I guess so,” was the young girl’s reply.