Her Tears are Real(On Hold)

Ubel Rossiter Zeitschrift

(Sorry it has been so long since an update, I've been pretty busy...and to be honest I'm beginning to run out of ideas. We're with Chuchoter...enjoy~!)

Chuchoter opened her eyes to a blinding light, the sun was already high in the sky...probably sometime around noon. She looked around sleepily, the man with snowy hair was no where to be seen. Had he left her?

She got up quickly and made her way to where he had been sleeping, but nothing was there except his bag. Chuchoter picked up the bag and began to rummage through it, maybe he had left a note.

"Bon sang!" Chuchoter cursed. Nothing was in his bag except a small book in a language she couldn't read, an already bit apple, a pen, and a large pad of paper. She opened the book to the first page, it read, "Die Stadt Der Geister".

"What does this mean!?" Chuchoter growled in anger. She nearly threw the book, but stopped herself. What if the man came back and it turned out the book was important to him? She carefully placed the book back into the bag and took out the pad of paper. She carefully flipped to the next page of the already tattered book, it looked like someone had been writing in it. But again, it was in a language she didn't understand.

"Ubel Rossiter zeitschrift. Zurück wenn gefunden!"

"Die stadt der Geister ist ein magischir ort. Ich werde bald wiederkommen."

"Sollte ich wieder wenn...? Mein körper sagt ja, aber...mein verstand sagt mir etwas anderes. Ich traf so viele nette leute...aber keiner von ihnen mögen mich. Oder zumindest das ist, was iche denke. Sie schienen angst vor mir...aber ich nehme an, dass für einen guten grund dafür ist."

"Ich frage mich, wenn sie angreifin, wenn ich weider...?"

Chuchoter was very confused, this seemed to be a journal...but she wasn't sure. Was it really the man with blonde hairs book? Could he tell her what it says? Chuchoter continued to look through the pages, all of them were written in that strange language except for one page around the middle.

"Zalig told me to write this entry in the language she is teaching me...the words are...hard... and feel foreign on both my tongue and pen. Schwierig zu verstehen. Ich mag sie nicht. She will be angry at me for saying that. But, it does not matter. Does it? For she does not like me either. Yet, she continues to teach me. Why is this? The 'alte hexe' continues to help me...what is that word? I do not remember that word. Erreichen. That is what I wanted to put. I can't remember it in English though, maybe I should ask Zalig? But I do not want to wake her. She said she was tired. So sie schläft."

"I wonder what it would be like to be so old? She must be over eighty years! I could not imagine what it would feel like to be her. At least she has learned much in her travels, she says she knows over fifteen languages! I hope I never have to learn that much. Ich werde den Tag hassen, dass ich eine andere Sprache lernen müssen! Es ist bereits Folter genug Englisch lernen!"

Chuchoter stared blankly at the page, so this 'book' was a journal. But who is Zalig? She placed the book back into the bag a second to late.

"Vhat do you think you are doing!?" The man growled.

Chuchoter quickly turned around, the man's hair was wet, his clothes were soaked, and the blood that had covered him had disappeared.

"Uhm..." Chuchoter was at a lose for words.

"Vell...at least you do not know German. Do you?" The man sneered.

"German...?" Was that the language in the book?

"Yes." The man plopped down beside her and pulled the small book out of the bag. "This is Die Stadt Der Geister. It is a good book...but it has a sad ending. You were trying to read it, yes?" The man mumbled.

"Uhm..." Chuchoter was reluctant to reply, she didn't really want to admit she had been looking through his journal. "...so, why does it have a sad ending?" Chuchoter finally managed to ask.

"Neither of the main characters achieve what they were hoping...nicht eins." He whispered uncomfortably.

"Oh...that's unfortunate. I guess you weren't expecting it to end that way, huh?" Chuchoter asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"No. Definitely not what I was expecting. Not at all. Ganz und gar nicht." He let out a tense laugh.

"I know how you feel." Chuchoter giggled.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"....You know, I've been wondering this for a while but, what is your name?" Chuchoter whispered.

"My name!? Will sie ernst meinen Namen wissen?!" He gasped in surprise. "My name is Ubel Rossiter...!"

(So, I won't be translating anything in this so I would Google it...plus if you do know German and I got something wrong please don't be mad! To be honest I used Google translate. Btw the picture I used for this chapter is what I think Ubel looks like.)