The Tinkerbell Effect (On Hold)

The Tinkerbell Effect: Chapter Two

A/N: Here it is!  Please comment and tell me want you think! :)  Critiques are welcome!

Chapter 2

     “You know, all of these girls are pretty shaky to me.  Greg could do way better,” Loewen states, sticking a kernel of popcorn in her mouth.  She sits beside me in my room as we watch the television.  I roll my eyes at her.

     “Lo, The Bachelor isn’t exactly the most commendable show there is.  All of them, including Greg, are flimsy,” I say with a laugh.  Loewen throws some popcorn at me and flips the channel.  After finding nothing else on, she shuts it off and lays back up on the bean bag.  I imitate her and give her a questioning look.

     “So,” she starts, putting her hands under her chin, “what are you going to do for your birthday?” 

     I shrug my shoulders indifferently.  I honestly didn’t want to talk about it.  So much is riding on this birthday, it is extra pressure that I don’t need now.  For me, turning eighteen is not something I am looking forward to.  I will be officially out of foster care, legally independent, no where to go, no money to use, school to finish, and all the other problems associated with them.

     “I don’t know.  It is a week away and I have no clue what is going to happen.  Of course Steve and Diane want me to stay, but there is no reason for me to after graduation.  I’m not their kid, not their legal responsibility,” I say.  I sit up straight and do not say anything else.  Loewen looks at me with a twinge of pity in her eyes, which only makes me feel worse.  I hate pity.  Pity is my life story.  I sigh and stand up to set the popcorn bowl on my desk.  Loewen had changed into her pajamas after dinner, but I am still dressed so I walk into my closet and grab a soft two piece I made a few months back.

     “Hah, you still make those?” Loewen asks once I return.  I give her a ‘duh’ look and strip down to my underwear.  I have always made my own clothes.  Made them or buy clothes made of recycled material.  Being in a foster home and after some of the families I have had, sowing was practically an essential skill.  I pull on the bottoms then reach for the top.  I had found a very pretty flower pattern at the supermarket and decided to make the night clothes out of it.  Yellow and purple orchids poke out from dark green grass and vines.  I plan on making a summer dress out of the leftover fabric.

     Once I’m dressed I jump on the bed and look over the edge to Loewen.  She hasn’t moved from the bean bag but is laying belly up now.

     “Kira, don’t worry about your birthday too much.  It won’t be that bad.  And if you are worried about burdening your parents and having no where to go, you can always camp out at my house.  I’m going to be at the local college so I won’t be leaving,” she says then sits up, “and hey, we can do whatever you want for your birthday.  We will celebrate until dawn.  Oh!  A dance party!  Everyone at school would come!”

     I laugh at her, but can’t help but agree.  If the girls at school aren’t a problem, then the guys definitely aren’t.  Either way, I don’t think a party will help much.

     “Thanks for the offer Lo, but that’s not something I would have in mind,” I say as I get up from the bed, “I’ll get some more popcorn.”

Fire.

It surrounds me like water, smoke just as thick.  A crackling sound enters my ear, signaling another tree minutes away from crumbling to the ground.  A rabbit speeds past me to safety, knowledge telling me a lake is nearby.

Running.

I pump my legs as fast as I can though the hare is long gone.  I dodge a tree branch with a gasp.  Run faster.  Longer strides.