A Touch of Grey

Part 1- Lemons

Warning... before you read...this story contains subjects of abuse and loss. But on top of that, there is strength, love, perseverance, and the will to live !

Greya's POV... Five Years Later...

You know the saying, " When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?" Well, sometimes the lemons are so rotted that there's no possible way to get any good lemonade out of them.

Don't get me wrong, I've been able to produce a few satisfying tablespoons here and there, but nothing compared to what's already spoiled. That is my life. Something always goes wrong, or someone close to me dies. Life's always a struggle, and on the off chance something does go right and could possibly make me happy, it never lasts very long and the ounce of lemonade I've managed to produce, trickles down to only a drop.

"Greya! I can't find the clothes you want me to wear," my brother Chase yells from his room.

"They're at the end of your bed, feel around until you find them," I shout back from the bathroom. If I don't finish getting myself ready, I'll never have time to help Chase and get us both to school on time.

I quickly throw on a white blouse before pulling up my dark jean shorts. I never wear any make-up, the most I've ever applied was a little lip gloss and eye liner. Ari tells me I'm one of the few lucky people in this world that doesn't need to hide behind a painted face. Fortunately, I was blessed with a pair of big light green eyes and long, thick wavy brown hair. I can thank my mother for that, well I can't thank her anymore, but she was the most beautiful woman I ever knew, inside and out.

"Grey! Please I need your help, I still can't find them," Chase starts yelling again.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll help him, you finish getting ready."

"Thanks Gram, I'm almost done in here." I smile at my selfless grandmother. She tries to help as much as she can but she's a month past ninety years old and there's only so much she can do anymore. She's taken care of us when we had no one else and now it's my turn to take care of her.

I finish putting my hair into a long French braid and trot back to my room to pack my bags. I have a big game today and I can't forget to pack everything. I have no time to commute back here before field time and if I do forget something, my soccer coach would have my head. I'm fortunate that my coach understands my situation.

I make it down to the kitchen and throw some waffles in the toaster just in time to catch Chase as he slides with his socks across the kitchen floor and almost slams into the counter.

"Chase, you can't come flying through the kitchen like that. What if I had a hot pan in my hand or a cup of coffee and you bumped into me? You could get hurt."

"But you don't, and I didn't get hurt," he shrugs his shoulders at me like it's no big deal and jumps up onto the stool.

He's a typical ten-year old boy, full of energy. He just doesn't realize he needs to be more careful than other boys his age. I can't take the chance of him getting hurt under our Grams care. Child Services are already concerned that my grandmother is getting too old to take care of a ten-year old with challenges. I know I'll be old enough to take over as his legal guardian when the time comes; I've practically raised him on my own since he was three anyway. But our grandmother was selfless enough to move in and claim responsibility of us after our parents passed away and I'm not going to take that honor away from her before I need too.

"Come on Chase, eat up, we can't be late for school," I hand him his waffle and glass of milk.

He carefully glides his hand over the counter and finds his fork and uses his other hand to locate his plate. The movements he makes are so natural to him and I can't help but smile at the way he handles life.