Everything Ripples

01

Chapter 01
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{music for the chapter:// My Own by Whitaker}
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After weeks of waiting, weeks of studying and stressing out over meaningless work, we are finally on summer break. Emerging from the school, I bask in the warm summer sun, one I had been deprived of for the past 9 months. Around me, students barge past, eager to begin their holiday as quickly as possible. But I just want to stay in the moment a while longer, to feel the light rays cast their bright glow on me. There's a reason summer is so special, so precious, but leaves as quickly as it came. It's the feeling of freedom, when you feel the world has come to a stop just for you and has let endless days of happiness come your way. But as soon as that's over, it's back to reality, and that summer feeling disappears. That's why I try to treasure summer, especially this one. This summer, my last summer in Rowan, will be the summer to outshine all others. I'm going to make sure that happens.

Walking down the steps, I look around and see no one apart from a few stragglers. Everyone has left to start their holiday as quickly as possible. I smile, glad for the quiet it brings. I start my way home, walking through the streets to my house. My mind is clear, which is rare for me, and I feel elated at the prospect of the events this holiday. I could do so many things; theme parks, days at the beach, chilling by the pool. The list is endless.

I drop my bag on the front step of my house, narrowly missing the roses planted near. Rummaging through my bag, I find my keys and let myself in to a dark, silent house. Frowning, I walk in, inspecting the hallway. It's unusually quiet, especially for a Friday afternoon.

"Hello?" I call, my voice echoing.

"In here."

Moving to the back of the house, I find my mother in the conservatory, painting our garden. Giving her a hug, I flop down on the couch next to her, my head leaning back.

"How was school?" she asks even though I can tell she's not interested.

"Fine," I reply curtly. "Why are all the lights off?"

She sighs and puts down the paintbrush, wiping her brow.

"Haven't had a chance to turn them on. Been working on this all day."

I nod and stand up, already forgotten about as she goes back to painting. It's a coping mechanism for her, the endless painting. She used to do it occasionally, but now she paints whenever. Never goes to work for more than a week, and I'm afraid she's lost her job. All she does is sit at home and paint.

I trudge upstairs to my room and jump on the bed, spreading out. Around me, photos cover the walls and the ceiling. None of them are of anyone in particular, but more of landscapes and strangers. Photography is one thing I never gave up. It has this pull on me, like the camera beckons me to it, calling me. Maybe it's my coping mechanism, like painting is with my mother.

Pushing myself off the bed, I go to my window and open it, stepping out onto the flat roof. Climbing up, I sit on the tip of the house, gazing across the town. When I first found out I could get to the roof, I was thrilled. I could leave the hellhole downstairs and escape to somewhere far away. It's my safe spot, my secret place. No one can harm me from up here, not a single person.

Below, I hear an engine cut, and I sit up, peering over the edge. Watching my father walk inside, my jaw stiffens, and I glare down. I hate what he's done to this family, to me. I can hear muffled greeting from inside, then quiet. Silence. And that's how the household works. A couple of words, a few smart remarks, and nothing else. Nobody speaks. Usually I'm okay with silence, but today it just doesn't feel right. I feel like screaming and yelling, and letting all my frustration out. But I can't. Because in this life, it's better to keep your lips sealed and your mind locked.

"Dinner," my father calls from the garden.

I think he knows I'm on the roof, but I refuse to say anything. Sliding through the window, I land on my cream carpet clumsily. Quietly I shuffle down the stairs into the dining room, where my parents are already sitting. Knowing this dinner is going to be awkward, I sit as far away from the two of them as possible. My father raises his eyebrows skeptically, but ignores me as I dish out food onto my plate. My mother pays no heed, but she never does anyways.

"Hilde, can you fetch me my scotch?" my father asks our maid, and she humbly obliges. I feel a twisting feeling in my gut, so I shove food in my mouth to quench it.

"Wait."

I stare at my father, still shoveling food down my throat. I'm not going to listen to him, not when he commands me like his men. Earning a glare, I sigh and drop my fork on the plate.

"Sandra?" he asks my mother, who sits up straight and nods. I start to worry, and start to make assumptions. Is someone dying? Am I being shipped off?

"As you know, we're leaving Rowan at the end of the summer," my father begins. I nod slowly, unsure of what he's going to say.

"Well, I've decided, that since we're not going to live anywhere near this part of the world, we should go up and see Grandma for the last time."

A/N: Hellooo everyone! Hope you like the beginning of my new story :) Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions!