Invigoration

- Chapter 1 -

Chapter 1

BRODY WAS SAT ON THE SOFA, his eyes appeared like crystals; deep sapphires, but they were just filled with tears. One by one, they trickled down his iced cheek, before dropping on to a frizzy, pink cushion, which was actually his mother's pillow. Ready, and dressed in black, he was taking a short break from the events that made the last weeks of his eighteenth year emotional hell. Dock was trying to enlighten him by his side, but was appearing to fail.

Aaron, stood proudly, came out of his room, trying to stay strong for Brody, who had celebrated his nineteenth birthday last week.

"Son, I think it's time to go," he said, sounding as if he were about to burst apart into tatters.

Neither of them had expected Debbie to pass away. A short battle against cancer brought an end to her short-lived life.

"She'd have wanted us to stay strong... she's in a better place, Brody," he replied, after a few minutes with no reaction. Brody slowly turned around, and stared into his eyes, before subsequently smiling. "I know, dad... I just feel like it's all my fault!" moments before his mother's death, he had the most horrific argument with her, and, since, Brody felt guilty that he was the one who pushed her over the edge, to her death.

"No, we talked about this last night - it would've happened anyway!" And those last few words were the ones that made Brody's blood boil the most. He was nearing the transition from an uttermost sadness to a fuming anger. An anger that he wanted to make sure would never, ever generate inside him again.

But first, he had to get through the funeral. Reluctantly, he rose up and wiped the odd cushion feather and dog-hair off him. "Ready, let's do this well, in mum's memory!" he said, as a sole, rare flow of positive-thought travelled through him. With Dock in his bed, Brody followed his father out of the door, as his heart continued to ache like the burn of a roaring flame, defragmenting into moaning tears.

~

Brody celebrated his eighteenth, and ninteenth, birthday's without his sister, Katisha. In fact, neither him, his father or late mother had heard anything from her since just before their seventeenth: and that was when she called to explain her worrying dissapearance, claiming she went to persue a college course, early.

But Brody knew this certainly wasn't the case; Katisha was indeed not within even the top two thirds of the school! Nervertheless, Debbie and Aaron were supportive of her, as always. Recently, however, her whereabouts were becoming far less known, to the point where the family had to admit they had no idea where she is - or even if she's still alive.

~

Bonmouth, a large seaside city, was hustling and bustling every nanosecond, as always, as Katisha jogged along Palm lane, to the building where of which her modern, snazzy pad laid on top. She continued her workout as she leapt over steps and steps, and passed doors and doors. Finally, she arrived at her own, automatic, door, which slid open once she entered her passcode. Lit around the edges by large glass windows for walls, and sky light multi-coloured filters elsewhere, this large, futuristic flat could only be most people's lottery-win dream.

Before strolling to her post box to check her mail, Katisha polished the trophy she kept proudly on the mantelpiece of her suspended, glass fireplace. She'd won the 'Local Weather lady of the year' fourteen months after she begun her role on 'Bonmouth TV Weather', at the central studios, though every day she remains hoping that she'll be promoted to anchor-woman: her dream role.

Katisha flicked through various letters and bills; such as the huge mortgage and debt she had after paying in all her savings for a deposit for her sci-fi den. There was one letter, however, which particularly caught her attention. She opened it to find some wrinkly papyrus paper within, headed by a red, silk ribbon. She began to read it, and every word she read added to the accumulating pain, and guilt, her body language was giving off.