It's her twelfth birthday. That's the only thought in the morning air, floating like a lone cloud on a sunny day. She sits up, unrolling herself from the position, the one that had not shifted in those years. Her fingers reached for the ceiling, and she yawned again, her nose scrunching up, her light green eyes squinting against the bright sun.
She ran her delicate fingers through her hair, her beautiful brown hair, thinking it would be six inches shorter by sundown, her birthday present. Walking over to the indention in the wall she used as the bathroom, she took a quick break, then washed her hands. She picked up her old silver scissors, and cut a straight line from her collarbone. She sighed as the now-dead hair wisped down to the floor. The broom did it's job, and in five minutes, the floor was clean, and her hands ached. But it was inspection day. And it was Trip.
She bustled around on her light feet, cooking eggs for breakfast. She had learned to cook just last year, atleast, cooking without burning everything down. Eggs for breakfast. And orange juice, she had almost forgotten. A whole jug of orange juice, a rare treat. Another plus to a year older.
She got out dress, the only one she owned. She had to wriggle into it, sucking in her belly, but it's still tight. She smiles anyway, she'll get a new one today.
She sits down and reads another chapter of her latest treat, To Kill A Mockingbird. Sometimes she hears Them say to each other about how she is 'a little young don't you think?' and 'my daughter's thirteen and she still can't read like her'. But she thinks she can read just fine. After fifteen minutes she sets the book down on nightstand. She looks around. It's a great improvement.
There is nothing lying on the floor, the couch and tabletops cleaned. She had been anticipating today for what seemed like forever. Another year older, and her first Trip.
She takes a quick peek at the clock. 10:37. They won't be here until noon. She sighed. And hour and a half with nothing to do. She looked around. There was nothing left to clean, and she was too excited to read. So she sat. Sat and stared out Window. Not down of course, she had outgrown many things, but her stomach was still queasy everytime she looked down Window.
And He was going to be there too. Since there was nothing else to do, she though about Him. His light brown hair, and the dark emerald eyes she knew her father had also. The small indention on His left cheek, the, what was it? The dimple. The dimple on His left cheek. He didn't have a name. She had asked Him once what her name was, like Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mockingbird. He just got that look in His eye and changed the subject. But before He left He had told her, "We don't have names around here. We don't need them." He had looked her straight in the eye without blinking for sixteen seconds straight, before He turned and shut the door behind Him.
She lost curiosity in names long ago. What was the point if she lived all by herself? And there was no one to call her her true name? But she guessed it'd be nice knowing, just for her own satisfaction, but she would never ask Him again. The one time she had asked Him was the closest she had ever seen Him that close to angry.
And when He was angry, so was she.
She looked at the clock again. 11:21. Already? She wondered. Only forty minutes until her first trip, and she was never the patient type. She wondered about fantasies she only read about in books. How would the grass feel in her toes? She didn't have shoes, she hoped someone would bring some for her. She had read about rocks, they must hurt your feet. She picked up her foot so that her knee was bent outward, and she looked at the sole of her feet. She perfect peachy skin that had never stepped on anything but the cork tiles up here.
She wondered if she would see bugs, butterflies, and bees, and spiders. Once a butterfly had flown up to the window, to the flower she had grown. It had flown away before she reached the window, and she had never seen another one. And spiders, everyone was afraid of them it seemed. But she wasn't afraid of anything. Just the view from the window.
She sighed. She wondered if she would get some ice cream today? She had only read about the sweet, cold treats. Her lips were wet from her licking them. She vaguely remembered Them saying they would get her something special now that she was twelve. They didn't tell her why, she liked to think it was because she was practically an adult now.
12:03. She wondered why They weren't here yet. They were never late before. She sighed resting her head in her fisted hand. Should She risk it? She decided it was worth it. She walked over to the window and took a look. They were there. She scrunched her eyes in confusion. They looked like They had been there a while. Why weren't They coming up to get her? Then she saw Him. He was yelling at one of Them. She didn't know why, but she didn't think she was supposed to be watching this. She didn't know why, but... She knew, but she couldn't look away.
He was screaming, she couldn't hear, but she could see the way His body crunched up like he was yelling, and the way They were flinching. She could see all that even from here.
Oh no. She hoped He wasn't doing anything to ruin her trip. She looked down again, and did a double-take. He, and one of Them, was staring up at her. She wanted to tear her eyes away but she couldn't. He looked like He was ordering someone, then pointing at her, and one of Them walked up to the tower. She smiled. She was going after all. They were coming to get her right now. But there was still an uneasy feeling at the bottom of her stomach, from the way He had yelled.
There was a knock on the door, and she sprung up. Smoothing out her hair and dress, she walked over to the counter, and fingered the white pearls in-between her thumb and fore-finger. She questioned it, in her head of course, but then popped it in her mouth. One would last her all day, she thought. She walked over to the door, gave herself one last look-over, and opened the door.
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She touched the walls, her fingers brushing along the walls.
"Keep moving." Their gruff voices told her, Their rough hands pushing her forward, down the wooden stairs. She didn't like Their hands on her back. No one had ever touched her except Him, and she had liked it that way.
Her bare feet stepped cautiously, her hands on the cold rail on the side. She went slowly, savoring every moment.
"Hurry up." They told her. She tried to hurry up, so They wouldn't push her again, but she just needed time to adjust. Her feet had to find their way first, stepping tenderly on each step.
"Stop."
She had been focusing on her feet so long she hadn't seen that they'd reached the bottom. The floor was smoother here, like tile, but all in one piece. The sunlight filtered in through the windows, and the rays cast light shadows on the floor.
She was so mesmerized by the room she hadn't seen Him. His light hair fell in his eyes in just the right way, like chocolate ribbons, curling the right way. The bright green eyes shone out, and His smile was big, the little dimple coming out. She had already forgotten His previous outburst, and she smiled widely, His arms open wide. She walked right into them without even hesitating.
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I left her trip out for a reason. :) Five votes for an upload? And more if there's already five. But don't vote cause of it, only vote if you liked it!!!!! Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, comment!!
