The Missings

Amee meets the Missings on a rainy November night. Unsure of how they view her, she decides to accompany them on an adventure across the States.

Chapter One: The Missings

Blinking the rain out of my eyes, I jogged across the street to an abandoned house.  The door made that classic creeeeak that only happens in movies and to me.  Inside, one singular chandelier shed light on the elegant foyer which was weird, considering the power was out city-wide.  “Who are you,” someone asked from the staircase, washed in shadow, the last word echoing off the walls and mixing with the rumble of the rain.  I raised my eyebrows, brushing water off my jacket.

A tall, thin red-head stepped into my view, squinting suspiciously.  Her lime green hoodie made her shamrock green eyes stand out.  “Who are you,” she repeated.

“Who are you,” I replied, squaring my shoulders.  I had always been a tough girl, beating on any boys who tried to mess with me.

“You run away?” she ignored my question.

A kid of about ten with spiky dirty blonde hair joined her.  I nodded.  “Okay, listen kid,” she started, “Listen hard, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.  Me and my baby brother here are runaways too.  I’m the fifth kid out of seven, he’s the sixth.  My name is Xandra Lynne Fremont. Recognize the surname?  That’s ‘cause I belong to Fort Lauderdale’s very own family of super-geniuses.  When Mommy and Poppy found out I was into electronics…not science and stuff, I got the boot.  They were considering sending me to boarding school.

“Little Danny here’s into sports; smart kid, but ain’t no egghead.  My main man Liam has his own story.”

Another red-head stepped out of a shadowy corner and joined the ranks between Danny and Xandra.  Behind a curtain of orange hair, electric blue eyes glittered accusingly.  He tilted his chin up in a ‘Sup gesture.  “Hey,” I grunted.

“Anyway,” Xandra continued, tugging on her French braid, “His parents died in a plane crash over Congo a few years ago.  Of course, being filthy stinkin’ rich, they pass most of their cash onto Liam and his sissy.  Sister Lilly dies in a ‘accidental’ car accident, the other party being Li-Li’s evil uncle, Jeffery Mitchell.  Jeff takes over care of Liam, in hopes of getting his hands on the fortune.  Lilly’s money was passed onto Liam so, obviously this is one rich thirteen-year-old.  He runs off, leaving Mr. Mitchell to pout over the dough, finds me and Danny-Boy and Badda-Bing we’re a team.”

I nodded, Liam blinked indifferently.

“I know you’re wondering so, I’m sixteen in two months.  Liam’s seventeen and my little bro’s eleven.”

“Thirteen,” I told them.

“What’s you’re name, New Kid,” Liam said, his voice deep and raspy.

“Amee.”

“That your full name?”  Boy, for being geniuses these kids don’t have very good grammar.

“No, its Amethyst.”

“Like the rock,” Danny told Liam.

“How do you guys not get dumped in foster homes?”

“I’ll tell you in a sec, Kid,” Xandra smiled, “But I need to know your story.”

“My parents are dead,” I spat angrily, “My adopted parents don’t give a rip.  So I ran.”

“Short sweet and to the point,” Xandra sighed, “Okay, so here’s the thing:  I’m eighteen, Liam’s nineteen, Danny’s still eleven.  Me and little Lee-Ham are newly weds, been married a little under a year.  My baby brother, Daniel,” she paused as Danny winked at the mention of his name.

“Is staying with us,” his older sister continued, “Now we need a story for you.”

“She’s my kid sister,” Liam offered, “Visiting from…”

“Michigan?” I threw in.

“Michigan.  Good One.  She decided to stay here.”

As he finished there was a loud knock.  Xandra sighed dramatically and straightened, pasting on a look of excitement.  Liam straightened up and smiled, his eyes still cold.  Danny moved over to a video game and I stayed put, dripping quietly on the tile.  Xandra threw open the door and smiled sincerely.  An middle-aged woman stood there, holding a plate covered in a dish towel.  “Hello, Deary,” she cooed, “I thought you might enjoy these.”  She pulled back the towel to reveal a plate heaped with warm cookies.  My mouth watered at the sight of them.

“Oh! Who’s this,” she shuffled over to me.

“Amethyst…or Amee,” I answered, staring at my shoes.

Xandra swung the door closed and let her smile drop.  “Thanks for the cookies, Marsha,” she sighed.

“No problem, Alexandra,” Marsha smiled, turning away from me.

“Who’s she,” I asked, concerned that Xandra seemed so comfortable around her.

“This is Marsha Cunnington,” Liam explained, “She’s the only one besides us who knows our whole story.”

I nodded, understanding immediately and shivered.  Xandra cast a sideways glance in my direction, “Your room will be the third floor; fifth door on the left,” she told me without a pause for thought.

Making my way to the stairs, I climbed them slowly, taking in every creak and groan.  If I was going to live in this house, I would have to come to know the voice.  The third floor was a long wide hallway with pretty white wallpaper on the walls.  I counted the doors as I went.

One.

On the wall was a wrought iron light fixture.

Two.

The clean white door had a big X mounted in the center.

Three.

Open door, with a creamy yellow room yawning beyond.  The bedding was yellow, the curtains and so on.

Four.

A wooden picture frame mounted on the wall displayed a boat on a placid, turquoise ocean.

Five.

I stopped, my hand hovering over the brass door handle.  The faint sound of classical music drifted from across the hall and two doors down.  As silently as I could, I tiptoed down the hall, in front of the door.  Sure enough, light music, woven with violin, cello and flute wrapped me with a sense of peace and calm.  I pushed open the door slightly.

A guy dressed in a dark blue t-shirt, red hoodie and jeans was sitting cross-legged in a bean bag in the corner.  His black curls were tamed under a white knit cap and he was barefoot.  He looked up at me when I came in.  The first thing I noticed was that his eyes were purple like mine.  The second thing?  That even though his face looked like he would be some Goth bad boy, his room was done in dark blues and pastel greens.

“I heard your music,” I explained, pointing to an old-fashioned record player in the corner.

“It’s Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto Number Three,” He told me, standing up and coming closer to me.

“I’m Zach,” he said, looking intently into my eyes.  I could detect the subtle twang of an Italian accent.

“Amethyst,” I replied quietly.

Cool Name.  The only weird thing about that sentence was that he said it, in my head.

“You can read minds?”

“Only yours.  Well, that’s not true.  I have some sort of weird thing that gives me a link with other people with purple eyes,” he chuckled, pulling on his lower lid.

“Is it natural.”

“Not at all.”

“Well then how’d you get it?”

“I’m a lab rat.”

Zach moved back over to his beanbag chair and closed his eyes, tapping a finger on his leg in time to the music.  I decided it would be best to leave him to his music.  Bye Amee, he whispered in my mind.  The tickle of his voice in my head still gave me the willies.

My room turned out to be done in lavender and cream.  I threw open the wardrobe to find a neat row of jackets and jeans, all my size.  The dresser contained shirts and pajamas.  I peeled off my soggy leather jacket and hung it on the shower curtain rod in the adjoining bathroom.

A voice over the intercom system that was apparently  wired through the huge house scared me out of my wits. Everybody report to the main entrance in ten minutes.  Be ready to leave, Xandra’s voice echoed robotically.

Leave for where, I thought, pulling a black backpack out of the closet and throwing some clothes in it.

A few minutes later, the whole gang was gathered in the foyer, waiting to find out where we were headed.  Zach galloped down the stairs, holding a bright green waterproof jacket.  I suddenly noticed that everyone else was wearing warmer clothes.  “You left this upstairs,” he lied, handing me the coat.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, while thinking: Thanks for covering for me.

No problem, he shot back, smiling to himself.

Author's Note

Worked hard on details! Hope you like it.

Reviews

[YouoweYoupay]

It is pretty obvious that you've worked hard on the almost fast-pace-ish detailed events. This story began with an attractive sentence, a mysterious, freshened-up cliched theme (orphans sticking togther and what-not) and an ending that leaves the reader wanting more. I say congratulations on having the courage to write and publish your first chapter of your book. (hope i get this kind of courage someday too lol) KEEP WRITING. *thumbs up*

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful first chapter. You create situation, strong characters and events leading into the story. I like the description and detail. The story had great possibilities. You got my attention. I would like to read more. A outstanding beginning to the story. Thank you.
Coyote

[Chellie]

This sounds like a great story. I enjoyed the descriptions and the storyline. And I love her name. I can't wait to read more.