Mind Over Matter

iii.

f a m i l i a r b r e e z e

Twelve hours. It took them twelve hours to get to Cedarview. Aria thought that it was a bad name for a town without any cedar trees in sight. But it was definitely better than having your only aunt glare at you, with her daggers for eyes, every once in a while. Other than that, it felt great to sit on a car and stare at the horizon on the other side of the window as it melts and disappears in your peripheral vision completely; to jam to great melodies and consume anything less than healthy on the way.

The car arrived at a full stop and as she stepped out, Aria immediately felt at home. The cold, fresh and familiar breeze brushed her face. The town hasn’t changed a lot since she was last there, since she was thirteen. It still had the same rows of houses and the same streets. The park stood in front of Miranda’s house, adorned with flower patches and lines of trees. All of it was achingly beautiful and sentimental that Aria wished that her mom was there, to see everything she was seeing.

Miranda accompanied Aria into her home, shutting the door behind them silently as if she was sneaking in. The inside resembled a cabin but with brick walls instead of wood. Family photographs were scattered around the living room. On top of the television, on the walls and on the center table. The room was filled with the sound of gunshots and mild cursing from the television show, Gun On Hand, that Lucas was watching. Her uncle lurched forward and shot backwards throughout the show.

“Honey,” Miranda said. “Aria’s here.” For a split second, Lucas turned and nodded as a sign of acknowledgement before fixating himself once again on his show. So much for a friendly welcome, Aria thought. Although she hadn’t expected it, it would have been nice to hear one ‘Welcome.’ from the family. “Let’s go,” Miranda pulled her to the second floor.

The household was usually noisier that this but that was before Austin, the eldest of the four children of Lucas and Miranda (and not to mention her only approachable cousin, which instantly made him her favorite one), left to pursue his college education. So, ultimately, she was bummed.

Guestrooms were usually, usually, comfortable in movies and also in Cath’s house but in this case, it wasn’t. The room seemed more like an attic than a guestroom. Boxes scattered here and there, making the place look crowded and hot and definitely not pleasing. There was one bed by the window that was dominated by old books. The walls were painted a shady blue that was already fading.  Not a good way to impress, but it was a great way to depress.

Her aunt stood by the doorway with Aria frozen by her side. “This’ll do,” Miranda announced. Her face was like a carbon copy of her mother’s but they weren’t twins. Miranda was older by two years. They were so alike yet so different at the same time. They had the same physique, the same skin color, the same almost everything. The only difference was their eyes; Miranda’s were icy blue—lethal and deadly.

Aria, on the other hand, looked nothing like them. She was pale and skinny and her eyes were dark gray, not blue or hazel. Her mother once told her that she got them from her dad who mysteriously forgot that he had a daughter who had his eyes. The words came out of her silently and unnaturally, “Thank you.” she said.

And, of course, Miranda ignored her. “Fix up.” she said before walking away and letting out a slightly miffed sigh.

She knew she had to follow her or she’ll throw her to the wolves eventually. Aria took all the boxes and carefully deposited them to the corner of the room, avoiding any damage she can cause to them. As soon as she was done, she grabbed her bags and stuffed them in the drawer across her bed without bothering to unpack.

There was a faint knock on the door and it opened. A girl was mounted there with a book in her arms. It was fragile and obsolete beyond its years. The cover seemed like it was going to fall any moment. The girl had brown flowing hair and the same glacial eyes as Miranda’s.