The Awakened

Chapter 5

 After my encounter with a delicious breakfast, I headed towards my closet door. I acknowledged the dresser-like closet in front of me. Made of pure cedar, little woodland creatures were gracefully carved into its sides and corners. I unlatched the handle, discovering every article of clothing was folded and placed into each shelf and drawer within.

 
My eyes wandered over the individual articles of clothing, searching for the perfect thing to wear. I ran my fingers through my hair slowly. A non-ripped pair of jeans and a T-shirt would be fine, wouldn't it? But then again, we have company, and I would prefer to make a good impression.

I settled on one of my very few dresses. It was simple, yet elegant, a dress made of darkness. It fell slightly above the knee, with a deep V-neck and straps that crossed in an x across my chest. I moved over to the shoe rack placed underneath the hanging clothes. I reached to grab the pair of black Vans on the rack.

With quick movements, I grabbed undergarments from the many cedar drawers then began to undress. I put on the undergarments, then proceeded to put on the dark dress. It still fit me perfectly, the top and waist were snug, but not uncomfortable and the bottom flowed outwards until the fabric ended just above my knees. Shortly afterward I pulled up some socks and slipped on my Vans, completing the outfit.

I steadily walked toward the bathroom, guilt already clutching my chest. Sure, meeting new people might be fun, but having the remaining people in the house clean made me uncomfortable. I should be helping, I thought as a tousled piece of brown fell past my brush. I combed out the remaining knots, slicking back my hair into a quick bun. Once finished, my eyes wandered to meet themselves in the mirror in front of me. With a sigh, I turned to the door.
In an instant, I ran into the hallway outside the room, then proceeded down the first portion of the steps only to slow to a walk. With a deep breath, my movement continued, descending the steps so as to not keep my mother waiting.

 
Laughter along with cheerful voices bounced off of the stairwell walls. My chest felt tight as I rounded the corner that revealed the doorway where a total of five people stood, chatting. Jackson, my mother, and my father made up three of the five, however, two unfamiliar faces stood near them. One was female, she looked fairly young, except for obvious streaks of grey riddled throughout. This led me to believe she was close to my father's age. The other was male, he looked to be slightly older than myself.

"Ah, Makayla!" My mother exclaimed. The sudden notion resulted in eyes turning to face my own.

"My she's just as beautiful as you Abigail," the lady who must be Mrs. Lewis, grinned. The man who stood beside her smirked, nodding his head in agreement, eyes eating me.

"W-well I'm not sure if I'm as beautiful as my mother, but thank you for the compliment," I stammered. My mother walked up to where I stood smiling with pride. She grabbed my hand, leading me to the unfamiliar pair standing before the door.
"Now, introductions," my mother stated, clasping her hands together. "This is my lovely daughter Makayla. Makayla, this is Torini Lewis and her son James Lewis." I studied them both.

Mrs. Lewis had a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. Along with flawless, slightly sunkissed skin. Straight black hair framed her face hanging slightly below her chin. Her hazel eyes stared into my own, looking warm, yet cold. Her son, on the other hand, looked like the stark opposite. Aside from their sun kissed skin and similar bone structure, they held no other similarities.

James had sandy curly hair that fell just above his ears in a messy way that seemed to suit him perfectly. His eyes were a coffee brown seeming to hide mischief behind them.

"It's nice to meet you both, I hope to get to know you better," I smiled sweetly and held out my hand which Mrs. Lewis shook gingerly.

As I stuck my hand out to James his eyes scanned me from head to toe. Before he grabbed it, footsteps sounded from behind us as Chase ascended from the stairwell, holding all of the dishes I'd left in my room. James's attention was fully focused on Chase as he walked toward us.

"Mrs. Clark, do you have a list of the chores you'd like me to take care of?" Chase glanced towards James and Mrs. Lewis with a bitter expression for no more than a moment that soon flickered back into his neutral gaze as he looked towards my mother. I had begun to retract my hand when James grabbed it softly and knelt down to the ground, placing his lips against the back of it.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Makayla," he smirked, remaining knelt for a few moments before rising. In a moment, everyone had become silent, and the atmosphere suddenly became awkward. Chase was mute, not even a breath seemed to escape him. Green eyes wandered from James, who still held my hand, and myself. His jaw was tightly clenched, forest eyes clouded with what appeared to be irritation. My parents and Mrs. Lewis stood silently, the atmosphere heavy. Chase took a step forward when Jackson grabbed him by the elbow easing him backward.

James's chocolate brown eyes locked with Chase's piercing green ones, for what seemed like an eternity, until I finally saw James mouth something to Chase, which set him off.
"James if you say anything to h-"

"Enough!" My father instantly intervened, pushing Chase behind him, ending the sudden burst of rage which caused the tray he was holding to clatter to the floor, taking the dishes with it. Both the plate and glass shattered upon impact with the wooden surface. "Clean this mess up then get back to work, your chores list is on the fridge," my father's voice was laced with an underlying warning. Chase squeezed one of his hands into a fist, his nails seeming to dig into the palm of his hand.

 "Of course, Mr. Clark," he spoke calmly, annoyance lacing his words. He shook Jackson's hand off him, he picked up the tray and everything else that wasn't demolished off of the floor. Anger radiated off of him as he walked into the kitchen. "My, my. Your butler sure is hot headed, isn't he?" I looked back at James who was shaking his head and chuckling to himself. A flood of irritation rushed through me, however, I stayed silent. "Enough of your nonsense James, you have no right to be talking about someone else's anger problems," his mother flicked him straight on the forehead. "You should know your manners in another person's household." I was taken aback by everything that had just happened. My head was spinning and had begun to hurt as questions of what James may have whispered floated about.