I'm Not Ten Years Old, I'm Fourteen, You Dingus

Chapter Twenty-Six: Back to the Little Old Town of Redrum

Brooklyn pitched a case with the advisors. She insisted on letting us go home for at lot a little while. I ache for the little town of Redrum. So they shipped us onto a plane, and let us go home to Redrum. Then we were shoved into a car and sent from the nearby city to our home town.

"Violet? Wake up." Rayna says while shaking my shoulder. "Huh?" I ask, groggy from sleep. Or lack thereof. Still trying to conquer my insomniac tendencies. "Guess I might of fell asleep along the way." I yawn before getting out of the car. "Thanks, Mrs. Crookumpet." I say to Rayna's mother before getting out and stepping onto the driveway of my house.

The house has had no occupants since Gran died. I never got to go to her funeral. The outside looks the exact same. When I step inside, I almost expected to hear Gran's voice. "Is that my Violet Ruby there?" She'd always say when I'd come into the house. Instead, I was greeted with silence.

I went up the stairs and found my room. It was almost the same as when I'd left it. The walls were that same faded light green (Jessica always referred to it as 'vintage green'.). The flooring was the same dark wooden panelling. My bed was in the same corner it was always shoved in, the rose speckled duvet was pulled smooth over the bed. The bureau with all my various brick-a-brack on the top, clothes still folded neatly inside. A cream-coloured shelving unit was in the corner, stuffed with books and various school supplies. On my nightstand stood the same little floral lamp and my second-hand iPod rested on it.

I was still looking like a prep-school student, in my uniform and with my hair all tied up. I didn't want to look like this anymore than I had to. This wasn't me. This was some sort of unfamiliar student who just so happened to have forearm crutches. Not Violet.

I burst into the tiny bathroom, grabbed a towel, threw off my clothes, and jumped into the shower. I washed my hair better than I ever could care to do at that school. When I got out, I grabbed some clothes that I hadn't worn in a year. I was so darn sick and tired of those same three outfits I'd been wearing ever since I got discharged. The light blue tank top and green shorts felt comfortable, quite a change from that darn uniform and sweatpants. Putting my hair into a fishtail braid, I went out the back door to soak up some sun.

The white sand felt good on my bare feet. Realization struck momentarily that I should have just had a shower tonight instead of before since I probably was going to get a ton of sand in my hair. But I didn't care. It had been so, so long since I'd been here, that I possibly could not care less about sand in my hair. "Ah, screw these crutches." I said to myself as I unstrapped my crutches. The doctor did say to try going without them so I wouldn't totally rely on them forever.

Deciding to do a cartwheel, I failed. Badly. I ended up face-first in the sand. Then I heard the burst of laughter after my failure. "Really, Violet?" I heard the voice manage out between bouts of laughter, and I realized it was Abi. I looked up and began to laugh too. She tackled me and we both were rolling in the sand, laughing our heads off. Sadly, our laughter was interrupted by Abi's mother. "Abi Lynn Bloom, do your clothes match?" Yelled her mother from the kitchen. We rolled our eyes. I mean, really? We're gone a whole year getting chemicals pumped into us and fricktons of therapy and your first concern when we're back in town is if Abi's clothes match?

"Yes, Mother!" Abi yelled back, slightly exasperated. We were silent for a little bit, before I broke it. "So, um, how are you?" I asked her. "Oh, you know. Well as can be expected. Just a little shocking that the man I thought was my dad for my whole life isn't. But it could be worse." Abi sighed. "That's a positive way of thinking." I replied.

Soon we heard the familiar sound of feet digging into sand as people ran. Our heads looked up, and we saw the others. "Take off your crutches, girls!" Commanded Brooklyn in her authority figure tone. "Yes, Ma'am." Joked Abi as she detached her crutches and threw them off to the side.

We headed off to the sand dunes, climbed up onto one, then jumped off. The air and rush of the jump made me feel as if I were flying. Until I smacked straight into the water. I swam up and broke through the surface of the sea. The girls were giggling. "You guys!" I protested. "It's not that funny." "Sure, whatever you say, Violet." Rayna responded, still laughing. I swam over and playfully swatted her on the shoulder. "Ouch!" She exclaimed, and inched herself away from me a teeny bit from the shock. "That's not fair, swatting is against the rules!" She yelled at me.

"You never said there were any rules." I sassed back. Rayna stuck her tongue out at me. I did the same. "I swear, you are like little children sometimes." Brooklyn sighed. I splashed Brooklyn and disappeared under the water. I could hear her muffled "It's on!" From under. Nice trying to catch me, I thought to myself as I cut through the sea water. Suddenly, a hand sharply grabbed my ankle, and began to drag me away. Oh my garnet. Is it a shark? Is it? Please don't let me die. Pleasedon'tletmedie..

"Hey, are you alright there?" Asked Jessica. I lifted up my head from the sand, where I had been hiding it for the past two minutes, screaming. "Oh, it's just you." I said, my cheeks turning about as red as my hair. "We're gonna have a driftwood fire. So, um, help us collect driftwood." Jessica reached down and grabbed my arms. We bustled around the beach, collecting the pieces of the dry, faded wood from all over the beach.

I sat hugging my knees as the match fell into the pile of wood. The green-blue flames started as barely a flicker, then crawled up, then engulfed the whole pile on bright fire, dancing all over. Watching it, my eyelids began to droop and I was feeling drowsy. Apparently, so was everyone else. We doused the fire, and set off to our own houses.

When I got into my room, I shoved on my poncho and fell asleep on the couch, a bottle of red Gatorade beside me. My eyelids closed, and they eventually shut themselves. I went to sleep. But not for long.