What Happened Last Spring

~Sun Rays~

Sphinx Academy

111 Wing Road (Located on the foundation of the Hermitage of Braid and Blackford Hill)

Blackford, Edinburgh

Scotland

Ruxana - Amani White
Al Majlis St
Abu Dhabi

'Huh?' An idiom that never left her mouth out loud made its way into Ruxana's mind, spotting the cream white envelope with a lone wing as a stamp as she collected the daily mail from the over-extravagant mail box that decorated the lawn of the house she and her parents were living in.

--"Pretty homely" were the first words that left her tanned beige lips when she was actually asked for her opinion on something from her father, more specifically, her opinion on the seaside resort which would be called home by the White family for the rest of her life, or at least until she decides to move somewhere else on her own;

"Do not use such words Amani." Her father spoke up not altering his gaze from in front of him as a sign of dominance, once again finding something that her daughter did 'non-perfect' and feeling obligated to correct it.

She gave him a questioning yet warned look. Not sheepish. She had never appeared and never would be, sheepish. But not daring nonetheless, she knew better.

"'Pretty' is just a decorative adverb Americans and such people use because their sentences aren't full enough. Your sentences should ALWAYS be full enough, without using many words. That's what power through words is."--

Why did that memory rise up now? And in the bloody morning from all hours!

She stood there for a moment or two. Her long, luscious dark locks spread apart in various directions, subtly and softly being pulled back and forth by the summer, salty wind, well, summer was almost reaching its end at that point but it the air was still warm and humid as it almost always was in the island she was living in. It was almost never cold. In the day that is. Abu Dhabi was no different than the dessert it was neighboring, especially weather - wise. Warm days and freezing nights. Well at least they had a ton of heaters to supporting the foundation and walls of the house therefore Ruxana had never really felt 'freezing' weather. That was about to change.

Holding the cream envelope along with 12 or so other envelopes and papers from the mail box in her not so tanned hands, the powder pink robe she wore tight around her body, its tips running along with the same wind, same movements as her locks, she gazed at the house again. Her light brown eyes that glowed a honey - like colour when met with Arabia's butter cloak caused by the sun fixated on the memory.

Was it because she was standing in the exact same spot she had been standing when the memory was made?

Was it because the envelope loosely tucked in her palm by her fingers was her father's idea?

Or was it because her brain basically hated her?

Hm, probably the last one. 'Great' another thought emerged in her head, this one accompanied with a nasty tone no one but her could hear as she walked down the rock path towards the front door.

Twisting the white door's handle she stepped in her house, bare foot as she had gone out, leaving the papers on the right of the two marble, round little tables that welcomed whoever stepped in. She casually walked into the kitchen - lounge area she sat, at the once again marble kitchen table supported by one of the five black, high bar stools.