Chrysophrase

Chapter 2

I stood still, staring at this woman. Her accent was so thick,  but I understood her perfectly. A minute passed...

"Is what you looking on me for?! You don' see the time going! You want me knock you over? HURRY UP!" She walked out and slammed the door. I jumped at the sound.

"Chrysophrase!" Sight called out. "Didn't I say to blend in? What was that?"

"I...I didn't know what to do... I've never seen anyone like that before..."

"You haven't seen anyone before! Just go to your closet - it's on your left - and get dressed. Since you obviously can't handle anything you've never prepared for, you'll find your 3 year old brother downstairs. He's loud and rambunctious. Call him Ethan. Call your mother 'Mommy' - it's an affectionate way of calling your mother, and is customary where she is from.. Your 'father' has passed on. Go ahead."

I walked to towards the closet and opened it, and was bombarded with a rainbow of fabrics. I looked at them, and looked, and looked...

"Sight?"

"Yes,child?"

"...What do I put on?"

Sight sighed. It was a little comical, hearing the dark, looming voice sigh out of frustration. Another gust of wind blew, this time without the light...or whirlpool, rearranging my closet. After the wind died down, Sight instructed me to pick a hanger. I looked in the closet and saw an outfit put on each hanger. I picked one, and found a pair of blue jeans which were wider at the top than at the bottom, and a green blouse with a V shaped collar. I changed into them and head downstairs.

My mother looked up and acknowledged my presence. "Chrys! Is wha' you up dere doing so long?! You don' understand 'Hurry up!'?"

...Let's rephrase: My mother looked up and berated my presence.

She continued to mutter under her breath: " I dont understand dese pickeney in dem times here you know. I don' understand why dem cyaan listen to what we say you know..."

"CHRYYYYYSSS!!!" I looked in the direction of the voice - the very loud and very shrill voice - and saw a small, slim, dark skinned boy running towards me. He ran and ran, then jumped onto me. It was only by sheer luck that he hadn't crashed right back onto the floor, that I had managed to catch him.

His voice assaulted my ears once more: "CHRYYYSSS! Guess what! I had a niiiice dream last night!"

I was completely enamoured by him. "You did?" I asked him, a bright smile on my face.

He nodded so fast and exuberantly, I thought his head would pop right off. I chuckled, "What was it about?"

He launched off into his tale: "Weeellllll, me and you was inside a marshmallow house, aaallllll by ourself!! It was soooo big and sooooo fluffly, and we played a lot of lot of games! Then, we ate some of the marshmallow, and we ate and ate and ate 'till we was full full full, and our tummies say 'no more!'. And we laughed and laughed and live happily ever after!" He was smiling so hard, and his person practically oozed happiness. I couldn't help but feel happy, too.

Laughing along with him, I lowered him onto the ground, where he proceeded to spread his arms and run around, mimicking an airplane.

"Come and eat this, Chrys." My mother called my to a meal of fried eggs and bread. She placed a plate on a granite topped island in the middle of our kitchen, and I sat on one of the three tall stools right behind it. I cleaned my plate and got up from the island, awaiting further instruction. My mother stood with her back facing me, busy seasoning meat. I cleared my throat to get her attention.