treblehearts Presents: The First One

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Hey, y'all it's Jesse! I'm also known as treblehearts here on wattpad, that one girl who decided to write a story through a guy's point of view and it went off pretty well? It's called A Thousand Words and I'm here to give you guys an exclusive prequel chapter. This is set years before A Thousand Words and narrated by a lady named Sylvia. Those who are already familiar with her character will get a kick out of this because this is where it – and I mean the secret it that I won't mention because that'd be a spoiler – started, with a little girl named Jessica ;) Hope you enjoy!

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THE FIRST ONE

By Jesse (aka treblehearts)

I thought I was dreaming. It could've been my imagination, or my old ears failing me already. But the sound was too mournful, too heartbreakingly real for it to be anything else. It was the sound of a child weeping.

The cries of that child resonated with the heavy pour of rain. I lay awake in my bed, listening intently with dread building within me. What was that poor thing doing out there at a time like this, and in such terrible weather no less? Oh, my heart ached to go aid the child who sounded like she was in such distress. I stayed where I was, just for a few moments, lying in hope that perhaps the guardian of that child would calm the crying. The wait was left in vain, for the moment of peace never came and the child's cries remained unwavering into the night.

I hurriedly took my robe from where it lay on my desk chair and put it on as I went down the steps. The noise seemed to grow louder as I drew closer to the door. Swinging it open, I was prepared to run out into the rain with my umbrella. If I hadn't stopped dead in my tracks, I would've stumbled over a small, young girl sitting outside my doorstep. She was the source of the crying.

"Heavens, what are you doing out here?" I cried, crouching down beside her. She couldn't have been over five or six years old! If she heard me, she hardly seemed to care. The flimsy jacket she had on did a lousy job keeping her warm, as her whole body was racked with violent shivers. Her blonde hair  stuck to her face and shoulders.

So many questions jumbled together into a pile of messy curiosity inside my head, but I shoved that aside for later.

I placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Please, come inside. You'll catch a cold if you stay out here any longer."

Thankful for the little resistance she gave as I gently pulled her to her feet and led her inside, I closed the door and said, "Wait here. I will get you a towel."

A small puddle had formed around her by the time I came down. "Here you go," I said as I kneeled down and wrapped the towel around her trembling body. Though her loud cries died down when I brought her in, silent tears continued to stream down her face. I swiped at them with my thumb.

Speaking in a soft tone as I dried her off, I asked, "What's your name, Sweetie?"

"Jessica," she answered. Her voice was good as gone.

"Well, I'm Sylvia. And how old are you, Jessica?" She held her hand up, showing me four fingers.

My frown deepened. "And your parents? Surely there's someone looking for you. They must be worried sick, especially with the weather so terrible outside. Is there anyone I can contact to come pick you up?"

This is where Jessica dropped silent. A shake of her head was the only response I would receive if I tried to ask anymore about her parents, where she came from, or how she found herself out here. Suffice to say, by the time I had her wrapped up in nothing but a big blanket as all her clothes were in the dryer, I was left with very minimal information about who Jessica was. With nothing but negative answers to almost every question, I began to question if she knew much about herself or what had happened.

The next morning didn't give me anymore answers either. I was left just as clueless about her situation as I was last night.

The way Jessica sat at the breakfast table looked as if she was a kid sitting outside the principal's office. Her anxiousness of being with me is understandable, but I wasn't the kind of old lady who was going to wave a cane and shout at children.

Despite my attempts to start conversation about anything and everything but her situation – that ol' method usually did the trick with putting the kids at ease – Jessica sat stiff as a board, staring at the eggs that were quickly turning cold.

"Jessica," I began, "would you mind going out with me today? I think there's a few things we need to do, as well as things to pickup if you're going to be staying here for a little bit."

"Okay," she said quietly, now picking up her fork to poke at the yolk.

"And would you like to buy something to eat if you don't favor the eggs?" The loss of appetite must be due to the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and how she's feeling at a time like this. I'd buy her anything she wished for if it would get her to eat.

She shook her head no, poking harder at the yolk with enough pressure that it began to seep down onto her plate.

I left her to debate on whether or not she should eat the eggs as I took a private call. Being a former worker in human services here in Philadelphia and then finding a child outside my door didn't seem so coincidental, but I needed a second opinion.

"It could be fate or it could be totally purposeful," said Arnold, whom I used to work with before my retirement. "If anybody would want to dump their child at someone's door without anything tracing back to them, your doorstep is perfect. Maybe they caught wind of the project you're launching later this year in New York?"

"But what if she showed up on accident? Jessica hasn't told me much about who her parents are or how she ended up outside my place. I'm not sure if she's refusing to tell me or if she truly doesn't know what happened."

"So you want to bring her in for questioning?" he asked.

"No," I said, hearing the chair scrape against the floor from the dining room, "I can handle that part on my own. Maybe she just needs a little more time before she opens up. I'd like if you could look into this, see if you can find anything on her."

"Can I get a last name?"

"Andrews. She gave me that much."

"All right, I will," he said. "But, Sylvia, just keep the kid with you in the meantime. If we find out her guardians dropped Jessica there on purpose, well, then she can be the first one."

I looked around the corner and found Jessica sitting on the couch with a pillow pressed against her chest. Her eyes were trained on the remote and I said to her, "Go ahead, Jessica. Why don't you watch some TV while I get ready to go out."

With her silently occupied near the TV, I sighed and made my way towards my room. "While I'm glad she's in my care and didn't spend the night by herself in the pouring rain last night, I hope that isn't the case. Whoever left her like that has no moral compass. She's only a young girl."

"I think that should make you even more grateful that she ended up with you," Arnold replied. "Jessica's in better hands now than she was before, if whoever left her there had the audacity to leave a four year old in the middle of the night."

"I hope Jessica will realize that soon," I murmured, more to myself than to Arnold. It'll take time to adjust, but I hope she won't shut me out more than she already has, if that was even possible. I wanted to help her, and if what Arnold said was true then Jessica truly will be the first one.

* * *

"I should've gotten vanilla instead," Jessica moped ahead, practically dragging her feet as we approached my place.

I smiled as she scrunched her nose at the red velvet ice cream she got. "It's always good to try new things because you'll never know if you like it unless you try it."

"I don't like it," she said, looking up at me while I opened the front door.

"Now we know, don't we?"

The telephone was ringing as we walked in and Jessica ran to go answer it.

Eight weeks passed and Jessica was still the second member living under my roof. It took less than two whole months for her to drop her walls and put her trust in me. I've treated her like she was my very own granddaughter – gave her clothes, bought enough food for the both of us, took her out for some fun. Her blue-green eyes shone each day, no longer clouded with emotions of the past.

It's strange. She's not trying to go home nor is she sad about being away from whom she previously stayed with. It was these subtle hints that I've noted during her stay, and it helps me form conclusions.

We got closer and closer to the end of my time here in Philadelphia, and there was still nothing on Jessica's parents. That is until the little one came trotting back with the phone back in her hand, saying, "It's Arnold!"

I passed her my chocolate ice cream. "Here, have mine and go sit in the living room. I'll be right there."

Jessica took the treat happily and abandoned her red velvet as she followed my orders. I moved to the spare room that's been transformed into a bedroom for my guest. I bent down to pick up some drawn pictures off the floor and spoke into the phone. "Hello, Arnold. Have you found anything?"

"They don't want her," were the first words he spoke, and I nearly dropped the crayon box I was holding. It took me a moment to process what he said. Then the anger set in.

"They don't want her?" I asked incredulously, remembering last minute to lower my voice. "She has two parents, then. Does this mean you talked to them?" 

"A letter. An actual letter, with no return address. Very vague, written probably by a man. All it said was that he and his wife have moved and want nothing to do with Jessica. They heard of your project in New York so they thought they'd leave her with you. That's all." I can sense the anger in his words, though he tried to be calm about it. I was anything but calm.

"She's only four years old and have completely abandoned their responsibilities as parents. She's their daughter, how could they do that to her?" I asked angrily.

"I don't know, but they've made it very clear they're not to be contacted about this any longer. They're just . . . done."

I lowered myself on Jessica's bed and pressed a hand against my forehead.

How could they? I thought, baffled, as I heard Jessica laugh from the living room. She's been nothing but a bright ray of light in this house, an absolute sweetheart since she dropped her defenses. From what I've experienced, it was hard for me to see why they would leave her behind.

I guess the bottom line here was that it wasn't the child's fault they found themselves abandoned, it was the parents.

"Fine, then," I huffed, standing with a clenched fist. "If they're going to drop their child and try to act anonymous about it, then she will be the first one. And she's going to find a wonderful new family who will love her to the fullest."

"So you'll take her to New York then?" Arnold asked.

"Of course I will!" I cried. "I am not going to abandon her. However . . ." I trailed, slowly sitting back down on the bed. "I don't think I will tell her the truth just yet. It'd break her down completely. It might be best if I tell her when she's a bit older."

Even so, it'll be hard for her to understand her parents' reasons even when she is older. I myself don't understand, but I'm quite in the dark when it comes to knowing what Jessica went through before she ended up here.

"Hey, don't worry about it. She's a bright girl, I'm sure she'll find a home in no time. It'll take more adjusting, though."

I hoped so. Five more months and the two of us are off to the big city together. I guess Jessica really is the first, and she'll be the first girl of many to come. 

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Thank you guys so much for reading! If you'd like to see what happens to these two characters after they head to New York then go check out ATW on treblehearts. Also, for my little giveaway I'm offering a thorough critique/review on the first three chapters of any desired story and a little one-on-one chat with me so you can ask for any advice or opinions.

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