/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟏.𝟙.𝟢

"tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" ~ Mary Oliver

~july 1971~

The screen door slammed and Artemis Blake felt a gust of wind blow towards her, ruffling her dark brown curls. She didn't look up when her mother entered the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal.

"How's it going, love? How was your night?" Jane Blake asked, tilting her head to try and see her daughter's face. Artemis's hair fell in a curtain to obscure her view as she took a bite of her own cereal.

"It was fine," she said in a quiet voice. Jane reached over and stroked Artemis's hair lovingly.

"Yeah? You feeling okay?"

Artemis was very rarely this quiet, but the last year had been hard on everyone. She continued to stare into her bowl and nodded her head. Jane shrugged off her jacket and adjusted her black skirt and top.

"I've only got a few hours before I have to go back," she said. Artemis's mother worked long double shifts at a restaurant in the nearby village, leaving Artemis home alone for most of the summer holidays.

Artemis gave a half shrug and Jane put her arms around her. "Honey, what's wrong?" she said into her daughter's shoulder. "Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?" Artemis pushed her mother off, but immediately felt bad.

"I feel fine. Maybe you should rest or something before your next shift, you were gone all night."

Jane softened even more at this and she hugged Artemis again, making it hard to eat her breakfast. "My Artie," Jane gushed. "Always worrying about everyone else." Artemis's heart sank when she saw that her mother's eyes had filled with tears. She managed a small smile and leaned into her mother, trying not to breath in the smell of fried food too much. She hated the state in which her mum came home from work, but she knew it wasn't Jane's fault. Money had been tight ever since Artemis's father died last year. Finally, Artemis was released and her mother stood up, stroking her hair again. "I think I will go take a little nap- wake me up at noon, will you?" Artemis nodded and turned her dark eyes back to the table, finishing her breakfast in silence.

~

Artemis shook her mother awake at exactly twelve o'clock. She noticed how Jane hadn't even changed out of her work clothes, but she didn't say anything about it. "Mum, come on. You've got to get up."

It took fifteen minutes for Jane to finally roll out of bed, and when she did, her eyes widened in panic as soon as she noticed the time. "Shit! Oh shit- sorry, sorry, I shouldn't swear in front of you." She rushed to the mirror to poof up her blonde hair and run lipgloss over her smooth lips. "Get yourself lunch and I'll be home for dinner, sweets-" she kissed the top of Artemis's head. "-I love you, bye," and she was off, running out the door and down the front steps to the little path down to the village.

Artemis let out a sigh and collapsed onto her mother's bed, curling up in the blankets. She inhaled deeply, hoping to smell her mother's sweet perfume she'd loved so much as a child, but could only smell the fried food Jane served at the bar. She rolled out of the bed and started pulling the blankets off and piling them into a basket. Jane had taught her to do the laundry the year before, after Artemis's father had died and Jane picked up so many hours at work that she didn't have the time for much of anything else. Artemis grabbed the sheets off of her own bed on her way downstairs and threw the whole load into the creaky old washing machine before heading to the kitchen to make herself a cheese sandwich.

She ate in the living room, flipping through one of her father's old art history books. Andrew Goyle's passion had been art, and he spent all ten years he knew his daughter trying to teach her as much as possible about the art world. When he died, Jane and Artemis moved all of his books to their tiny living room and Artemis spent the long summer days reading them and remembering everything she could about the different artists and their works. She payed special attention to her dad's annotations in the margins, which usually included funny sayings and notes about each artist. Things like, "that old bastard thought he knew everything," and "ahhh, do I miss old Vincent? No, I don't. The man was an asshole." He always acted like he knew them personally. Artemis usually had her older brother, Percy, to share the information with, but he was staying at a friend's house all summer.