The Green Eyed Boy

Chapter 1

Rosie was spending her summer at her favorite aunts summer cottage. It was painfully hot and all of the grass and trees were praying for a little rain. But there wasn't a cloud in sight and Rosie loved it. She loved the heat and the dryness of the air. Rosie liked the way the dead crusty grass tingled on her bare feet and how she could just lay on the ground without a care in the world. Despite loving her aunt and her little cottage and the weather, she hated the stupid little town. She hated the way it had just stopped on its tracks while other towns were actually known for something. She hated the fact that the closest body of water was more miles away than she could even imagine. And she hated the towns tasteless name, Oakwood. 

So Rosie just sat in a bad mood under a tall unknown tree in her aunts backyard. She held a heavy pen in her right hand and a piece of paper was resting on her legs. A couple of feet away a little bird, she had named Napoleon, was picking tiny seeds from the ground. The dark feathered bird had grown to like her as the weeks had gone by, and now Rosie was able to actually draw a decent sketch of it.   Rosie's mother had always said that Rosie could make anyone model for her.

''Rosie! Quit being blue and moping around, and come help me.'' aunt-Tessa yelled from the open backdoor. Tessa could be mean sometimes, but she was always honest and down to earth. She had brown eyes and hazel colored hair. Tessa barely ever wore makeup, but she had a natural glow to her skin. Tessa reminded her of summer.  Rosie's aunt was a lot like her mother. That might of been the reason why she liked her so much. Rosie got up and took her things and said goodbye to Napoleon. Napoleon chirped back while picking the ground. She walked towards the red cottage's backdoor and stepped in. Inside the summerhouse it was even hotter than outside. All of the windows were cracked open, but all it did was bring more heat in.

''What did you need me for?'' Rosie asked Tessa as she entered the old kitchen. As soon as she stepped fully in the kitchen she got her answer. There was something burning. Rosie noticed dried up burnt cookies on the table, and looked at her aunt. ''Well.. The little old lady in the yellow house has her grandchild over for the summer. So one thing led to another and I decided to bake cookies for the kid.'' Rosie blinked trying not to laugh. Tessa unlike her mother could not cook for the life of her. ''I see now, that I should have not.'' Tessa smirked and threw the horrible looking cookies in the trash. Rosie and Tessa started the process of making cookies all over again. And when they were finally done, they looked so much better than Tessa's batch. 

''That's a huge improvement. Aaa-nd because you made them, you have the honor of delivering them.'' Tessa ordered. Rosie rolled her eyes, but knew there was no use arguing over the matter. She'd take the cookies like Tessa told her to, come back and go and draw. Simple as that.

Rosie made her way to the yellow house, with a box full of cookies. The house was older than the sky, it had been there forever, but it was still kept in good condition. She jumped over a ditch and stopped at the gate. What should she say? Hey my crazy aunt tried baking cookies but she can't so I did. Goodbye. No. Oh god. What am I supposed to say. Should I just - ''Who are you?'' Rosie's trail of thought was interrupted by a little boy. He looked about six or seven. His skin was so pale and cheeks so hollow, Rosie was suddenly very wary of the sun. The little boy sat cross legged on a swing that whimpered under the weight. Rosie felt like the kid looked straight through her with his piercing green eyes. She squirmed under his gaze. ''I'm Rosie. I baked some cookies.'' She lifted the box and the boy got up. He made his way through the garden to the gate. Now that the boy was closer Rosie could see how very small he was. ''I'm Charlie. Thank you.'' the boy said and took the box. ''Wait there.'' he said and ran off.

When Charlie walked back he didn't have the box of cookies anymore, but he had a small black wooden box with him. He stopped at the gate again and lifted the lid. Charlie reached to take something out of it and put it in his palm. ''Here. You can have this.'' Charlie said and opened his palm. In the center of his tiny palm was what Rosie thought was a rock. Rosie took it anyway, thanked and left. 

When she got home, Rosie went back outside and finally looked at the rock. It wasn't a rock after all. It was an acorn. Rosie was about to toss it, but then she remembered what her mother had told her when she was five and exited to see the large oak trees. ''Oh honey, there hasn't been oaks in Oakwood for twenty years.'' her mother had said. The acorn didn't look old, or even dried up. Where did Charlie get this?

That night Rosie dreamt of a large oak, and under the tree was the boy with the green eyes. Charlie.