Clockwork Daisy

Chapter 4

Deacon

Chapter 4

It was nice to see my dad again. He sat across from me at the kitchen table, sipping stale coffee out of a cracked ceramic mug. I was grinning at him like a little boy. He was talking, but I couldn't quite make out the words. Mom was standing behind him, silently sobbing. Anya was cross legged on the floor, making him valentines, even though it wasn't even close to that holiday. Suddenly, Dad stood up and sloshed his coffee on Mom's face. She feel to the ground slowly out of shock, and there was a definite crunch as her skull came in contact with the tile. Dad's face was red and murderous as he walked toward me. I just kept on smiling. 

"Dee, you forgot to set your alarm!" Mom was leaning over me, alive. Her long hair was practically touching my cold sweat stained skin. I quietly gasped for air. It had only been a dream. 

"Sorry." I mumbled, sitting up. "I'll be in the kitchen in a sec."

Mom's eye brows creased together, and she picked up a laundry basket she must have set down before she woke me. "Are you feeling alright?" She asked, lingering in the door frame. "You can stay home if you want. It's not that big of a deal if you miss the first day of school."

It was sweet how caring my mom was. "I'm not sick, just had a bad dream, that's all."

"I hope that's not a bad omen for the year to come!" Mom teased, walking to the kitchen.

I chuckled, then rubbed my face with my clammy hands. I was still half asleep, trapped in that bizarre dream. If that was a sign of what was to come, I was going to have one hellish school year. But instead of dwelling on that thought longer than I had to, I forced myself up and stumbled into the kitchen. Anya had already poured herself a heaping bowl of generic brand sugar cereal. I grabbed the open box in front of her and served myself some. It wasn't too bad if you didn't mind a cardboard after taste. 

"Do you like my hair, Dee?" Anya squealed. 

I glanced over at my sister. Her flame like hair was sprouting tight ringlet curls. "Very pretty, Anya. Did Mom do that for you?"

Anya nodded, proud. "We used bobbi pins!"

Mom smiled and ran her fingers through her own hair, which was identical to Anya's. "It's an old, cheap trick I used when I was a teenager."

Anya trilled on about how exciting she anticipated fifth grade being. I chimed in when I felt necessary, but the clock was ticking too fast, and I soon had to excuse myself to get ready. I pulled on some jeans and a white v-neck, then slipped into the claustrophobic bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth with my bristly toothbrush. My fraying backpack was waiting for me near the front door, where I had readied it the night before. Anya's bright pink pack was beside it, stuffed with elementary school supplies. I swung my backpack on, and then picked her's up in my hand. "C'mon, Anya! The bus will be here soon." To most high schoolers, riding the big yellow school bus was worse than a dead sentence. I didn't mind, though. My mom needed the car more than I did. Therefore, I took the bus. 

Anya scooped her backpack from my grasp and fit it onto her back. She had a huge smile plastered on her face, but I couldn't help but worry about her. She was small, and actually a little young for her grade. She was often stuck in a fantasy world and wasn't exactly mature yet. I wondered if she got picked on. I crossed my fingers that she didn't.

"Have a great day!" Mom wiped her hands on an aged blue rag and kissed my cheek, then gave Anya a little squeeze. "Don't overwhelm yourselves too much, okay? It's only school. You'll get through it."