their broken knees: an excerpt

enjoy the crumbs of my beloved book and add it on goodreads <3

COPYRIGHT © ALEENA ROSE 2024

His bones worked for a few seconds before they were twisted into something terrible. His fall was more graceful; something a painter would later romanticize and immortalize within her canvas. Arched back, curls tumbling into the open air, muscles sculpted from God’s will that scratched against the clouds.

It was beautiful in a way that only he could not admire.

The canopy of leaves softened his fall, passing him between their hands before dropping him to the dirt. He fell on his knees, and he failed to withhold a scream. His chest heaved, fighting to retain the air. He had been so close to the apples.

The boy lifted his head from the soil and surveyed the area. The thicket here was thin, allowing the sunlight to bathe him where he lay. And he would have stayed—would have let the leaves pull him below the earth, but his legs were bent in a way that made him want to scream again. And a bed of twigs was starting to claw his back.

He propped himself onto shaky arms and turned his head. He was the only one here, excluding the creatures that watched him from the safety of their branches. When his heartbeat settled to a dull hammer, he bit his lip and picked the rest of his upper body up.

He fell, cursing. Pain dragged its teeth down its back, and he turned his head to the pile of twigs.

He picked the smallest of the group. He considered it for a moment before placing hands on both ends and snapping it. The crack chased the creatures away, but his brown fingers closed around another one before he could notice their panic.

He pressed a hand to the dirt, finding a larger twig. He lifted it to his eyes, following the bridge of lumps and knobs that carried a family of insects across its length. They moved slowly, but he had no time to waste on them. He dug the end of it into the dirt, and with his good leg, lifted himself from the ground. The branch wobbled as he struggled to find his balance. His feet were large, but the branch held firm until he found the proper way to stand on them.

He wasn't exactly doing well.

The forest watched, occasionally shuffling its canopy to allow the sunlight to hit his body. He lifted his eyes through its nooks, seeking the red lumps that burned against the sky. Apples waved from their branches, swinging precariously from thin stems that made the boy suddenly afraid for them.

Would they hurt if they fell, as he did?

He swallowed hard and turned away from the fruit, all notions of its sweet flesh now forgone. Through the trees, the sunlight cupped the farm he had wandered away from—not wandered, rather. The farmer, now hunched over deep fields of crops, still howled in his memory, kicking him away from the shovels with the same words he had used toward his dog.

The boy supposed he would have been asked to leave at one point or another. He had not, however, expected the sudden desire that had prompted him to flee the farm; a marionette-like commander, ordering his limbs with a precision that could only speak of something otherworldly. Perhaps he was possessed.

Later, he would realize that he was only afraid.

Deep whines echoed through the woods as the farmer’s dog hurried out of the house, too insignificant of a speck for the boy to see. But he could hear its nails, scratching and creaking against the wooden planks of the porch, and his heart soared into his throat. He wheeled around, lurching into the trees.

TBK is back in my agent’s hands! While I wait to continue with revisions, and to thank you lovely people for your patience, please have these scraps of a character who you may or may not know. Clearly, he’s not doing so well, but that’s not my fault. I love you.