The Enhanced Ones (paused)

Ch. 1 Willow

November 21, 2012

When you are raised to see things only one way, it can be very difficult to accept it when the world is nothing like it should be. This is what I realize as I watch my school burn by my own hands.

Approximately 16 hours earlier

~beep beep beep~ My alarm yanks me from my dreams at five A.M. sharp, same as every morning. I linger only a moment before tossing back my covers letting the cold air surround me. My body shivers telling me that I should promptly put on something warmer than my thin nightgown. I roll off the bed swaying slightly as I shuffle to my dresser where I pull out fresh under garments. I grab my robe off the back of my door then tiptoe down the hall to the bathroom. The only upside to rising this early is that the hot water is all mine. I only indulge long enough to lather up my hair and skin and get a thorough rinsing. When I finish a cloud of steam follows me out of the small bathroom. When I reach my room the clock says it's 5:14. I pull on a comfy pair of sweats and a long sleeve plaid shirt. Once again I take to the hall as I pull my shoulder length red hair into a ponytail.

On the enclosed back porch I pull on my heavy car-hart pants and jacket as well as slip my feet into a pair of rubber boots.  The cool air wraps around me as soon as I leave the surrounding confines of the house. I hurry to the barn first. Its an ancient structure mostly made of wood that stands only twenty feet from the house. I flip the switch as I enter the people door. The hanging lights flicker to life in the small side room I have entered. To the right are buckets of feed for our various animals. Ever since I can remember it has been my job to feed and water the farm animals we have. First stop is the grain for Gretchin our milk cow. I fill the bucket and lug it over to the first set of sliding doors. Gretchin, already awake, chews her cud and stares at me with her big brown eyes that match mine.

"Good morning ol' girl." I greet her as I dump the contents of the bucket into her feeder. I check the level of her water trough and decide that it will be enough till Dad wakes up and lets her out for pasture. I set the grain bucket aside and reach for the sanitized milk bucket that we keep in a tub outside Gretchin's stall. After positioning the stool I set to work. My back is aching by the time I finish. I take the bucket to the milk fridge we keep in the side room, where my dad will pick it up later. I put the stool away and say farewell to Gretchin. I go back to the grain containers and grab several hand fulls which I promptly toss into a tiny pen for our chickens. Next I get a scoop of pellets for the bunnies Mom uses to make yarn. I exit the barn and walk farther out to a small half open shed that has three metal sides and one completely open. The inside has been divided between Mom's bunnies, our two goats Sugar and Bambi, and the pigs. Dad doesn't let me handle the pigs other then checking their water, he thinks I'll get hurt. I deliver the pellets to the bunnies and refill the upside down water bottles at a water spigot at the end of the shed. Next I go to our back field to where Sugar and Bambi have been spending their days munching on fresh grass and weeds. I don't have to move Sugar's spot today so that will save some time. I pick up the end of her chain and pull it to its length. Once I place it I take the water bucket and refill it. Once that is completed I go back to the shed and get Sugar on a leash so I can guide her out to her spot on the field. As soon as she is hooked to the chain she starts munching away. I move to take care of Bambi next. When both goats are contentedly eating in the field I wipe my cold fingers on my jacket and and head for the house.

On my way back I stop by the dog house where Sebastion our three year old German Sheprador stands guard. I check his water level and give him a good belly rub promising to drop of breakfast before I go to school. He just wags his tail giving me his doggy smile in total acceptance of any action I take. When I get to the porch I can already smell breakfast cooking making my mouth water. I shuck off my chore clothes and duck into the main part of the house. Some of the chill has lifted now that the rest of the house is up. My little brother John sits at the end of the table shoveling down eggs and toast like he hasn't eaten in a week. Dad sits at the other end, eating only slightly slower than his growing son.