Finding The Remains (Book One of the Love Loss Betrayal Trilogy)

Finding The Remains (Book One of the Love Loss Betrayal Trilogy)

What if you lived in a society where there was no emotion? Adelinde Walsh does. As she nears her eighteenth birthday she is pulled into the dark secrets of her society. Can she learn to cope while regaining her emotions? Or will they tear her apart? While she is dealing with petty things in her everyday life can she be strong enough to face the truth and rebel for what's right? Or will she let it slip away?

Chapter 1

Problem Child

Everybody looks half-dead. No, that's not right. Everybody looks impassive, emotionless. That's probably because they were.

Well strictly speaking, they still had emotions. These emotions were just numbed. It took a lot to surface those emotions. Over time humanity experienced too much, their senses dulled. The emotions were there just hidden very deep underneath. It was like our emotions were locked in the very center of the Earth-the core- and we were on the surface-the crust. We could see that the emotions were there, if we focused long enough. However we couldn't access them.

When someone was able to gain touch with their senses, truely feel their emotions...it never ended well. Usually that person fell into a coma, died, or retreated into their own mind and made their own personal fantasy in which they now lived; crazy. That was the best case scenario.

The worst that had happened was that the new found emotions drove the poor person insane, they became insane. They started to kill, rápe, do horrible crimes. Unfortunately this happened often, the emotion destroyed them and others. It was a curse.

Though everyone wanted to feel something, not like the sensory overload emotion where it broke your mind, body, and spirit; but a little something. People wanted to feel like they were actually living, even if it was only for an instant.

There were three types of people now. First were the Catecholamine, who were insanely reckless. The adrenaline rush, the sense of fear and dread before hand was primitive. However it did it's job, the people who followed the Catecholamine path felt a flicker of their humanity come from jumping off of a plane.

Next were the people who felt their humanity come to them through a safer way, passion. These were the people who lost themselves in music, dance, running, whatever made them happy, sad, mad, hurt, lost, human. This group was called the Ardour.

The Lost were easy to explain. They knew that they weren't a Catecholamine, as the weren't brave--or maybe stupid--enough to complete those acts of daring. However they weren't an Ardour, as the didn't know their passion yet. If they even had one.

These groups left holes though. What if someone was both an Ardour and a Catecholamine, there were some more than likely. And what if someone could actually feel, or felt to much? What were they called?

I knew the answer to the second question. Sensitive, cry-baby, weak. The lack of emotion turned people selfish and blind. Or maybe cruel. They teased and tortured people who had the very thing they wanted and made them loose it too. It happened to me, it could happen to Tristan.

My name is Adelinde Walsh and I am a Lost. I was a 'cry-baby' up until seventh grade. That's when the constant teasing made me loose all emotion. Buried it. It was lost, just like I was. I look over at my best--prefered friend--Tristan. She looks at me concerned. She shouldn't be. If she wants to keep her humanity she should hide it. I won't always be there to protect her.

Maybe my passion was protecting people, but no that could lead to doing the acts of bravery to save people. By doing those acts I would start being a Catecholamine. Was it even possible to have a passion such as justice or protecting people and still be an Ardour? Maybe everybody was an Ardour and the Catecholamine just had passions that lead them to dangerous situations. Or maybe their passion was just danger.

I put my head in my hands. This was too much for me. "Miss Walsh," I hear the sharp edged voice of the teacher Ms. Kill say. I should explain Ms. Kill's name. While it was spelled kill, like murder kill, it was propronounced key-ill. Though 'kill' suited her better.

"Yes Ms. Kill?," I ask with sugary innocence. It's fake of course and you can hear the layer of sarcasm laced underneath. I see Ms. Kill's mouth tighten. The emotions she connected best with were annoyance and disapproval. I always managed to bring out her 'humanity'.

"Please tell us why you find yourself excused from paying attention Miss Walsh. Do you think you are superior to your peers?" I look around at my classmates, they didn't know my past. I moved here--Washington--in the middle of eighth grade. My father had a job transfer.

Here I was well respected, the closest thing to well-liked as possible. I flash a blinding smile. I am not particularly pretty really; plain brown hair that wasn’t either dark or light, gray eyes, small stature, no I wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t terrible either but I wasn’t going to win any contests soon. However I had enough confidence to appear somewhat good looking at times.

"Well I didn't say it," I tell Ms. Kill. Oh I am going to be in so much trouble. "You did." My classmates smile and I even get a couple of chuckles.

Ms. Kill slaps me. I suck in my breath, a look of hate coming over my features. I grip the desk as I know what's coming. "That's a lot coming from a girl with no passion and not enough bravery to become a Catecholamine. A Lost."

Ouch. That hurt me so much. Not. I decide to infuriate Ms. Kill further. I shrug and roll my eyes. "Maybe being in a room with you poisoned me. I mean its enough to give anyone brain damage."

Ms. Kill looks ready to explode. I actually wondered if she could explode. "Adelinde Walsh out," she eventually manages to gasp out pointing an oversized finger with three rings towards the door. "Office."

I get up out of my seat and grap my stuff. I twirl a peice of my hair and give Ms. Kill a sarcastically sincere smile. "Thank you," I say stretching my voice out to a drawl. "I no longer have to sit through this torture."

Then I leave. I consider not going to the principal's office, I mean I was almost eighteen. I mean it wouldn't matter. People in my class were leaving often now. If they already knew if they were a Catecholamine or Ardour--and they knew their passion--they would go join their common people. However Lost's had a week of being a Catecholamine and then up to two months of being a Ardour, in which your passion would be found--if you even had one. Then you had to choose your way of feeling. Either that or be degraded to being inhuman.

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