off-white | wlw

lawnmower and authors note

Delilah jolted up quickly, looking around squinting. She started speaking in Koren and laid back down, and Ryn shook her a bit more.

"Delilah, Delilah wake up."

She was clearly very out of it and didn't want to be awake, but they had to get home before their parents got worried, though Ryn was sure they probably already were. Finally, Delilah sat up and fully opened her eyes, her surroundings suddenly becoming real to her as she muttered something Ryn couldn't understand from where she was sitting. Delilah stood up, itching one of the many bites on her arms, and grabbed her jacket and guitar.

"Oh god, this is my bad, I was the last one up, I don't know what I wa-" Ryn finally becoming the one to cut her off and she shook her head groggily.

"It's fine, it doesn't matter, we should just get home."

Ryn stood up, her jacket in her hands as well and they both hiked up the small hill that led back to the creaky tree. They stayed silent as they got closer to the backyard of the farm, as the morning was still setting in. It didn't seem like it was too late in the day for Ryn to sneak in noticed, as her parents weren't the most attentive about her.

When Delilah reached the steps to the house, she waved her goodbye. Ryn took a mental note to not wake her up in the future, as it was clear she liked her sleep. Ryn rushed home as fast as her still waking body would let her go, which wasn't very fast.

The light sun was shinning painfully bright for how early it was in the morning, which the girl wasn't used to. The Koren sun was never as painful as the sun in the country. Delilah had a feeling she would never get used to the bright lights constantly shinning.

She opened the loud rusty door into the uncleaned farm, as the workers hadn't been there yet. She creeping inside, her guitar on her back as she tried to step on the boards that crept at the slightest touch. Dust flew into the air, as she walked, and she sighed a sigh of relief as her father wasn't there. She turned her head to find her grandmother sitting at the dinner table, and her heart almost leaped out of her chest.

"Ah, there you are dear, just in time for breakfast." Her grandmother smirked, a smirk that meant so much more than just something sweet like it usually meant.

Delilah stood dead still. Her grandmother was good, her bones felt frozen, she didn't want questions to be asked, and things to be assumed, as adults always assumed things. She didn't even feel like explaining things. She didn't want to explain the grass in her hair, the bites scattered across her body, the slight sunburn that tinted her body. So, she didn't. She walked over to the dining table in desperate need of a repaint. She pulled the unevenly laid chair out and sat down. Her grandmother began eating, and she started putting some of the food on her plate. Her grandmothers' food did nothing but surprise her and make her want to eat her own weight in biscuits. Everything tasted homegrown and natural, it tasted wonderful and like nothing she had ever had. At home, they had never really eaten this type of stuff, as her mother always bought the cheaper and easier to make meals, but this tasted like the expensive stuff the rich kids would eat, and Delilah wasn't complaining.

She felt a tinge of guilt, knowing her grandmother was in the kitchen all morning, waiting for her and cooking. She wanted to say something, a sorry possibly but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She didn't want to risk the possibility of her grandmother saying something about her absence. She finished her plate pretty quickly. and stood up, plate in hand.

"May I be excused?" She hoped this gesture of manners would please her grandmother, as she was old school and southern, and that would save her from questions and accusations. Her grandmother nodded and waved her off.

"Go ahead, don't worry about it." She smiled a smile that wasn't like her usual one.

Delilah reluctantly walked back to her room, her stomach full, but still tired from a terrible sleep outside. She knew she would probably never do that again, no matter how tired or late it was. She reached her room and quickly jumped onto the bed. The bites covering her legs and arms itching painfully. She was surprised her grandmother didn't say anything, but that could also mean her father might say something. She leaned against the bed, wrapping herself in the covers that smelt like laundry detergent. She heard the sound of a lawnmower starting outside.

She listened to the rumbling of the loud mower outside as she found herself crying. Delilah wasn't a person to cry. Whether or not it was the overwhelming of everything around her or the fear of being asked questions by the adults. She hated the questions and assumptions of the adults, she always had. The last thing she would ever want is the assumptions they always make. The things they say behind the younger people's backs, thinking no one knows but they make it so obvious. The things they say when drunk, the things they say when you're alone with them. The things they do. She hated them. She hated the way the boys acted at parties, they acted like they had no control like they own the world. She always stayed with girls, since she was little she had never had an interest in boys, and she was not planning on starting now.

She heard the mowing of a small cat next to her and she put out her hand, hoping for her small cat to reach her side. The cat rubbed its head against her hand, and she pets it, wiping the tears off of her face as she did so. She was never the person to cry for a long time, it was only ever a little bit. She scooted over so the cat could lay next to her. She didn't remember taking the cat back so she assumed she found her way home. Delilah tried to fall asleep to the sound of the quiet purring next to her but her thoughts were running through her head faster than ever. The farm was such a good place, but at the same time she never wanted to go back, she wanted to sleep for the rest of her life, and never wake up, never wanting to take risks again for fear of the adults knowing. So she slept, finally the sound of the lawnmower outside drifting away as the only thing on her mind.

Ryn reached her house and was relieved to find her parents car gone, they were probably on another long trip. She walked into the house and found a note on the kitchen table proving her suspicions. They would only be gone for a few days, but she was glad to have a short time alone. She leaned onto the couch, looking around for the old record player she had found in the old lady's basement. She sighed and shook her head, as it wasn't important to her right now. She laid down on the old couch that creaked if you sat on the wrong cushions. She allowed herself to feel free for once, the memories of yesterday danced in her head. The small bit of music Delilah played that day under the creaking tree repeated in her had and it made her feel bliss for the second time in the short span of a couple of days. She knew these memories would be sacred for a long time now, and she wasn't complaining. Delilah and her smile flashed in her head once more, maybe she did feel something different for Delilah. She shook her head, that was impossible, as they were both girls and they had only known each other for a short day, yet in that day she felt something she hadn't felt before, a different kind of happiness. One that made you feel like flying, no matter how cliche and basic it sounded, its truly how it felt. She knew she had never felt this way, and she knew her friends were feeling that way, so why wasn't she? Why was it that every time she looked at her best friend, she felt like she was on fire, but when she looked at the popular boys she felt nothing, cold and empty, but her friends talked about how they would do whatever they could to date them?

She sighed, rubbing her face in her hands as she rolled over on the couch, looking out the window into her yard. She heard a faint lawnmower in the distance and she stood up, walking over to the bathroom for the medicine cabinet. She looked around in the cabinet for something to relive her bites, but her search was to no avail as she couldn't find anything, and walked away, scratching her arms as she laid back on the couch, looking bored. She grabbed the remote and turned on the old tv her parents had found at a garage sale.

a/n

hello everyone, this chapter is almost over, and I just wanted to say I'm not to happy with the way this turned out, and I have a few other ideas better than this one, and im def gonna be slowing the updates maybe even stopping if the other story goes well. sorry everyone