If I Had A Choice by Abigail Livinghouse (book recommendations based on other books txt) đ
- Author: Abigail Livinghouse
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âOh I see, so youâre the messenger?â I asked. Another shrug, but I could see the small bit of curiosity shining in her odd, golden eyes. I cleared my throat. âUh, well . . . itâs, um . . .â
I looked for a way to explain myself without actually explaining myself. Eliot warned us all that if we told any new arrivals about the hellish nature of him or the horrible way he ran Carom House, then the punishment would be far worse than the children finding out about Eliotâs cruelness. So we kept quiet, in fear of what this terrible unknown punishment might be. So, I decided to try to tell a bit of the truth, only shrouded enough so that Circa wouldnât be able to decipher the whole truth.
âWell, you see . . . the rules here are very strict, and when disobeyed the punishments can be a bitâharsh.â I said, struggling for the right words. Circa cocked her head to the side.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â She quipped. I pursed my lips, thinking. I couldnât tell her everything, no, I could barely tell her anything. I ran a hand through my hair, Circa watching me carefully.
âItâs hard to explain.â I said at last. She just shrugged again.
âSo? Try to.â She said, as if it was that easy. With deliberate slowness, I got up off the bed and went to my door, going halfway out into the hall.
âMake yourself at home. And a piece of advice for you, just listen to Eliot.â I warned.
Circa got off the bed as well, and came up to me, staring intently at my face. She was at least a head shorter than me, but the intensity in her stare was enough to make her look like a giant.
âIs there something going on here? I can tell thereâs something wrong. I might not be a mind reader like you, but I know that thereâs an odd shift in the air here.â Circa said, her gaze sharpening. I shook my head, sliding all the way out into the hall until only my head peeked into the room.
âDonât ask questions. Just listen and obey.â I cautioned. Circa âs lip curled in a judging sneer.
âWhat? Like a dog?â She asked.
âYes.â I said without hesitation, and ducked out of my room.
Chapter 7I walked quickly to the end of the hall and went into the last room on the right, where Sam sat on his bed, sketching on a tablet. I closed the door behind me and locked it. When I turned around, Sam was watching me, a skeptical expression on his face. He held up his pad, showing an intricate design with a beautiful bald eagle spreading its wings in the center. Sam was a wonderful artist, like most kids in the house were. Sometimes, when children couldnât quite express visions theyâve had, they draw them. Even though Sam doesnât have visions, he still draws. His work is always so magnificent. I came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, judging his sketch with only a glance.
âItâs beautiful.â I said in a deadened tone.
Sam raised one eyebrow at me before he began making alterations to his already perfect drawing, his head bent over it like an enticing book he just had to finish.
âWhatâs bothering you?â He asked, his focus seemingly consumed by his art but instead partially fixed on me. I clasped my hands together in my lap, playing with my fingers.
âSome of the new kids are wondering whatâs wrong with this place.â I said.
Sam nodded, absently erasing a mistake on his paper. âWell, they are certainly a bit quicker than the last group. It took them weeks to see through Eliot.â He said.
My eyes widened in alarm. âYou donât find this a bit startling? Not at all?â I asked.
He shrugged, still focused on the tablet in front of him. Frustrated, I got up and began to pace around the room, from the window on the far north wall, to the door. Samâs room was small and compact, just like every bedroom here. He had a writing desk in one corner, a single bed in the other, a small dresser, and a medium sized closet. This was how each and every room in Carom House was laid out, unless you had a roommate like some of the younger kids, then thereâd be two single beds. Everything else would be shared.
Even though I was nervously pacing, my mind was reeling. Could the new group actually have Eliot figured out already? Was it possible? Usually, Eliot got by on the childrenâs trust for a few weeks, until he showed his true colors. But, could the new group of teens possibly see through Eliot? I shook my head. I admit, he had seemed a little bit off when I first met him, but I had trusted him. That is, until he had me writhing in agony on the ground, punishing me for not addressing him as âmasterâ. Everyone except Kelly were expected to call Eliot master, no exceptions. And when Iâd refused, well, letâs just say I didnât do that again. However, these teens didnât know what Eliot could do. They didnât know his power, and if they disobeyed him, then they surely would get a bitter taste of that power. I had warned Circa, and I just hoped that sheâd follow my warning and pass it on to the others. But I had my doubts.
I looked at Sam, who seemed to have finished sketching as he was observing me quietly. âSo, you donât find this strange?â I asked again.
âNo. I donât.â He answered right away. At my bewildered expression, he explained. âThink about it, Siena. These are teenagers, not children. Rarely does Eliot bring in all teens like today. Theyâre smarter, much more advanced than children. They donât brainwash as easy.â He said matter-of-factly. I continued my pacing, as Sam continued speaking.
âAll youâre doing is worrying for nothing. Theyâre teenagers, and they can fend for themselves.â He said. I stopped abruptly, staring at Samâs smooth, expressionless face. âDonât worry over something thatâs not worth worrying over.â He said.
Chapter 8At dinner, things were stiff. Eliot sat at the head of the table, Kelly at his right. Her color had faded back to normal, to mine and everyoneâs disappointment, but her jaw was taught and she was eyeing everyone with open hatred. Though, her anger wasnât needed to thicken the tension in the atmosphere, it was already thick enough to cut with a knife.
Alexander, Chelsea, and Circa sat across from me, Sam sat two people away from my right, while the two people in the middle were William and Leonard. Leonard was sitting as tall as could be, his spine straight as a ruler. His green eyes were fixated on a wilting centerpiece, as he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with everyone who attempted a glance. William was almost identical, except his eyes were wandering everywhere, and resting on everyone. When they came to me, I looked away, afraid of what Iâd see when I looked into those large brown eyes.
Itâs easiest for me to read people when Iâm near them. However if they arenât paying much attention to me Iâm able to keep away, but when they look directly at me itâs nearly impossible to resist their thoughts. Itâs like theyâre screaming at me, willing me to listen. I could already hear some people thinking much too loudly, their scrambled thoughts creating a faint hum, like when youâre flipping through stations on a radio, this was just like that, waiting for me to tune into one station. I kept my focus though, paying as little mind as possible to the people around me.
Circa was laughing as she talked with Chelsea, who was smiling faintly and nodding her head. Alexander was keeping busy watching me, his eyes glued to my face. I refused to look up, I didnât want to read anybody right now, especially not him. I could feel his gaze, his red-hot gaze burning a hole right through me with those oddly colored eyes. I felt sweat begin to form on my brow, my heart beat picking up speed. I was about ready to look up just to end this when Eliot tapped a spoon against a water glass.
My head snapped up, breaking the trance. I was so grateful, I didnât even care that it was Eliot who was speaking. I wouldâve picked anyone to talk just so that I could escape the fiery depths of Alexanderâs stare. Eliot cleared his throat to get everyoneâs attention, even though all eyes were already on him.
âIâd like to propose a toast.â He said loudly, raising his glass high above his head. âTo the new arrivals.â He grinned broadly, as some feebly, some proudly, raised there glasses along with him.
âMay your stay here be full of experience, teaching, and knowledge.â He said, âTo the new arrivals.â
Some shouted, while others merely whispered. I could hear Alexanderâs deep voice agreeing with Eliot as he drank from his glass. I took barely a sip, then set my glass down.
âNow, by all means, letâs eat.â Eliot announced, and the food was promptly served.
It was the usual when new kids came, steak, baked potatoes, a small salad, and some vegetable to go along with it. Most of us took little, knowing that if we gorged ourselves Eliot would get pissed because we wouldnât have any leftovers for tomorrow. I ate very small bites, trying to ration my small helping of dry meat, half-cooked potato, and cold green beans. Alexander, Circa, and William however, took so much their plates were nearly overflowing. Though Chelsea and Leonard took about as much as me, seeming reserved about the food and what their group members had taken.
A small wrinkle creased my forehead in confusion. How did they know to take little food? How did they know, but the others didnât? I stole a glance at Eliot. His face was smooth, his jaw set. He seemed to be calculating something. I bristled in anticipation, wondering what kind of gruesome things were going through his head, but before Eliot could do anything, someone suddenly spoke.
âYoâ, Everyoneâs heads swiveled around to face the person who had spoken. It was Circa, whose mouth was stuffed with food, and who
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