Chapter 1

A Chapter by Girlpuppy

First chapter to my Novel, Aimless. Reconsidering title.

Chapter 1

Iris

Iris always hated the first day of school. Freshmen year was no exception. The first day of school. First of her last four years. This was it. The beginning of the end. Her end. It was worse because she wasn't going to the same school as Cody, Naomi, or Luis anymore. Cody dropped out, he wanted to spend his last four years having fun. Naomi was being home schooled. New York City public schools were terrifying, and her family can't afford any of the private schools. Luis was going to one closer to his home. Thankfully, Sam was going to the same school, but he was one year ahead of her. A sophomore. So she was all alone, and Iris wasn't going to make friends. She refused. She didn't want to lose them when she died. That’s why she clung to the others, because they were gonna desert Iris too. Even, fair and square.

Iris looked in the mirror, and frowned. Her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. Naomi was always jealous of Iris’ hair, because Naomi didn't have any. All gone because of her chemotherapy. Iris’ grey eyes were narrowed slits, disapproving of her appearance. Her pale blue dress barely touched her knees. It looked inappropriate, yes, but it was her elder sister’s. Iris’ parents were successful, but they couldn't pay for her medical treatment, rent on their apartment, private school, and brand new clothing. So Iris just recycled her sister’s dresses. She was pale, very pale. Iris was sick, it was expected. But it looked odd, golden hair, pale skin with dark eyes. Iris shivered slightly, unknowing if it was the cold of Autumn or the look her eyes had. She snatched up an old cardigan and threw it over her shoulders. A simple cold could spell Iris’ death.

Iris took one last lingering glance around her room, her tiny, cramped bedroom, and slipped out the door, down the steps, and into the grey cityscape. Her feet brought her down the streets, towards a stout brick building.

Iris paused. She gaze up to the third (and highest) story, and turned towards the nearest corner window.

“Sam!” Iris called, griping her backpack tightly. She waited two minutes, and then called again. The window shot up, and out popped a hand. It opened, and a piece of paper wrapped around something plummeted to the ground. It plopped in front her; she picked up the red and blue cow stuffed toy, which Sam and Iris dubbed ‘Messenger’, and removed the note fastened to its neck. The careful, neat handwriting of Mrs. Fisk sprawled upon the paper.

Iris,

Sam is being too damn lazy; continue ahead,

he will catch up.

-Nora

Iris scowled crushed the note into a ball, and pushed Messenger into her bag. She wandered from the apartment, growling curses under her breath. She detested when Sam broke meeting times. Of course, a voice whispered in her mind, you’re almost always late; no wonder he was asleep the one time you arrive on time. Iris scowled, and picked up her pace. She hated logic, especially when it put her at fault. Actually, that’s the only time she hated logic. Whatever.

She wandered the streets of New York City, stumbling along the twenty minute route at her normal, extremely slow pace. She was half way to school when she heard someone calling her.

“Iris!” Sam yelled. She froze, her white and pink floral backpack bumping her rudely.

“I’m sorry about missing you,” Sam began, panting slightly from his run.

“It’s fine.” Iris said shortly. With his solid, tawny brown eyes, dark brown hair, and steady voice, Sam Fisk was the picture of comfort. It was nearly impossible not to smile at Sam as he talked. Yet, Iris was the only one who could do it.

“So,” Sam grinned as they started walking again. “You were actually on time today.”

“Oh shut up,” Iris growled, bowing her head and bumping Sam lightly with her shoulder.

“Ah, don’t worry Blondie,” Sam yawned, throwing a friendly arm over her shoulders. “I still like ya.”

And I love you, Iris thought. She forced a grin, and the two friends made jokes and witty comments the rest of the way to school.

Naomi

Naomi sighed. She only got 3 hours a school a day, if that. But why did it matter? She was going to die. Why waste precious short time on school.

You may live. Her mother always sang in an overly bright, somewhat painful voice as the two began the tedious home school lesson. Yeah. Right. Chemotherapy was a hell of a lot of pain, yet after years of treatment, it hadn’t eradicated her pancreatic cancer. It staved off her death, and slowly helped, but it wasn’t worth it in Naomi’s opinion. But, her mother clung to any hope there was.

Speaking of her mother… Naomi glanced through the archway the led to the living/ sleeping room. Her mom was still asleep, reluctant to release the last tendrils of dreams. Another one of those days. No learning today. She smirked. Not a problem for Naomi. She grabbed her shoes, put on a cap that was long enough to cover the tip of her ears, and left the cluttered apartment.

Naomi wandered the streets of New York, humming a made-up happy tune to herself. She paused outside of a bodega, and slipped inside.

“Naomi,” A warm voice greeted, followed closely by a short plump man with sloe eyes.

“Hey David,” Naomi grinned. An old family friend, David always helped the Whitelow family from big to small problems and favors.

“Do you still have my supplies?” she inquired, following David to the counter. David smirked. “Oh shut up,” Naomi growled

“You’d kill me if I lost them my dear.” David chuckled as he bent behind the counter and picked up a small brown paper bag. Naomi smiled pleasantly as she reached into the bag and removed a large sketch book. David watched quietly as Naomi flipped through the book.

“You’ll have to tell your mother Naomi,” David said quietly. Naomi jerked

slightly, and glanced up, fear plain in her green eyes.

“I-I can’t! Mom hates artists ever since Dad and-” Naomi’s words tumbled out quickly, and warbled slightly. David took her frail hands in his large meaty ones.

“Your father was a deadbeat, and he did nothing for your family except hurt it. When he left, I would hope your mother moved on to…” David hesitated, and Naomi noticed not for the first time how his eyes sparkled whenever he spoke of her mother. “A better life.” Naomi nodded feebly. She didn’t like discussing her father; A few months after her parents met, Naomi was conceived. After that, the two began to argue bitterly, and hated one another. Never married, her mother begged for a simple, quick ceremony, to keep up with her Catholic faith. Thomas agreed reluctantly. They were married two weeks before Naomi was born. He left two months, and Naomi never got to know him. All she knew about her father was that he was the reason that Mommy cried every night. But Naomi didn’t think of him as a monster, but as a superhero, who would one day come back and save them, and they’d be a big, happy family again.

And he did come back, when Naomi was five. Unfortunately, he came back for his own funeral. Marie insisted on planning the funeral. Naomi cried along with her mother, and learned the hard truth that superheroes weren’t real.

“She never stopped loving him,” Naomi said softly, watching David carefully. He flinched, and his eyes flashed with heartbreak for an instant. The he gave her a tight smile and snuck a pack of gum into her brown bag.

“Off you go little one.” David snuck into the backroom. Naomi grabbed her bag sullenly, and walked to Central Park. She sat on a bench, and stared carefully at a tree, carved with hearts and names. She opened her book, and began to draw.

Luis

Luis stared blankly at the old-fashion blackboard as his 4^th class teacher droned on and on about class etiquette. The day quickly grew into the normal first day of school; lots of handouts, confusing schedules, not to mention the bullies. As a freshman in an all boy’s school, Luis was doomed. There was no way for him to avoid the traditional ‘F’ marking on his hands, arms, face and neck. By fourth period Luis had been Marked six times. There was no pain, just annoyance.

The bell rang shrilly, and Luis fairly jogged to his next class, to avoid being Marked. There, he bumped into a fellow student, who turned slowly.

“Please don’t Mark me!” Luis squealed, holding his binder in front of his face for his protection. But the boy who turned was Marked with a red ‘F’ on each cheek. The boy grinned.

“I was about to say the same to you.” He thrust out a hand, which Luis shook in relief.

“I’m Luis,” He smiled shyly.

“Jay,” offered the boy. He was taller then Luis, by two or three inches. His hair was a dirty blonde, with �"somehow friendly,-icy blue eyes. He had a radiant smile, one that Luis couldn’t help but return.

“What’s your next class?” Inquired Jay. Luis glanced at his schedule, then frowned.

“Advanced algebra, you?” Luis resisted the urge to laugh as Jay grimaced and a look of disgust filled his eyes.

“Regular algebra. I’m dreadful at math,” Jay said chuckling. Luis thought it was adorable that he said ‘dreadful’. Wait, adorable?

“I’ll tutor you if you want,” Luis said smirking. Wow, you’re forward today, he thought bitterly.

Jay laughed. “I’ll need it.” Suddenly, Jay’s eyes widened, and he shoved Luis between a wall of lockers, effectively concealing short Luis.

“Hey-” Luis began, stunned. Jay shushed him as two large, frightening looking seniors approached the freshmen.

“Freshie, eh?” Clucked the taller of the two.

“Well,” Jay said bitterly, “I didn’t draw these ridiculous ‘F’s on my face for fun.” The stout one smirked. “Wrist. Now.” Jay rolled up his sleeve and showed the pale skin of the inside of his arm. A bored look crossed his face. Luis pushed himself further against the lockers. The two burly men took out large red sharpies, and Marked Jay.

“There,” Jay said simply, shoving his hand in his pockets. “What’s the point of this damn marking thing anyhow?” The tall one shrugged.

“Tradition. Don’t worry kid,” He added, not unkindly, “people here are actually pretty decent. But tradition is tradition.” He clapped his hand on Jay’s shoulder then the two strolled away.

“Huh, they’re not so bad are they?” Jay smiled, backing up so Luis could escape the corner. Luis scowled. “For now. Thanks by the way.” Luis began walking with Jay.

“Hey, we have lunch together!” Jay noticed happily, pointing it out on Luis’ schedule. “Shall we eat together?” For some reason, a flush crept up the back of Luis’ neck. “S-sure,” he managed to stutter out. Jay grinned happily. He paused at his classroom door. “It’s a date,” he laughed, ducking inside.

Date? Luis was in a haze of confusion and delight throughout math.

Sam

Sam stared dully at the sidewalk in front of him as Iris chattered on about her first day. It was white noise. Normally, it was amazing to listen to Iris’ musical voice, to watch her face animate with a story, her mystical grey eyes light up. But it was another bad day. Bacterial Endocarditis gave him awful head aches.

“Hey, Sam?” Iris had stopped walking, and touched Sam’s shoulder. He turned, and did his best to hide the pain flaming in his eyes. It didn’t work.

“Let’s go. It’ll get worse and you know it.” She snatched his arm and pulled him along to her apartment. She’s surprisingly strong, he noticed dully. He winced, a stab of paining slicing him quickly. Iris pulled harder.

They arrived at her apartment, and she led him by hand into her bedroom; her parent’s weren’t home.

“Bet you always wanted me in your bed,” he joked weakly. Iris scowled, and looked like she was debating not to hit him. “Hit me, I’m injured.” He grinned.

“Just shut up and try not to die,” she snapped, handing a couple ibuprofen. He shook his head. “No good.” Sam muttered.

Light broke through his eye slits, causing pure pain. He let out a muffled whimpering sound until Iris closed the blinds. Voices faded in and out. Naomi? Probably. She spent every afternoon with Iris. The voices grew closer. Sam ignored them; eyes relaxed, body limp, waiting for the pain to fade, he was almost always in this position. Being sixteen, he barely had a chance to relax, between school and sleep and medical visits.

A few minutes �"hours?- later, Sam sat up, and glanced at the clock. 3:30. Only half an hour? Relief hit him like a wall as he strode into the living room. Naomi was still sitting there, and has taken her cap off, showing it’s stark baldness, save a small smattering black fuzz covering her head.

“Hey Fuzzy.” He grinned, hugging her. It’d been a while since they last saw each other, and he always protective of her. She suddenly flushed a deep red, and mumbled a ‘bye’ as she fled the home, leaving Sam stunned in her wake. He turned to Iris.

“Was fuzzy a step to far?” He asked, bewildered. Iris smirked, the tossed and envelope at him. “Better roll on out Sammy Boy, Dad’s coming home early.”

And Sam left, confused and a little hurt. About halfway home, he remembered the envelope. He opened it carefully, and found a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it as he walked and paused and he looked at it.

It was him. A perfect drawing of Sam, as he was resting on Iris’ bed. It was a black and white sketch, but it was anything but simple. It was so…exact. A small note was written on the back.

Sam,

Couldn’t help it.

Fuzzy.

He smiled at Naomi’s signature, and carefully refolded the sketch. He walked him, grinning from ear to ear.

Cody

Cody scowled. Again. He was either scowling or smirking slyly, never an in between for him. More often then not, it was a scowl.

“Hey, you gonna buy or not?” The bodega cashier shot Cody the evil eye. Cody glanced up at him with his own dark, chilling black eyes.

“Gimme a sec,” Cody growled as he pretended to look at a magazine rack. His eye perused the store. Security cameras, but they weren’t on; no red light. Cody suppressed a smirk. Few bodega owners and workers turned off the cameras, but some turned them off when they were at the counter.

The balding man frowned bitterly. “Take your damn time then. I’m taking a smoke break.” He stormed off through the storage door. Cody had about one and a half minutes, maybe less, before the cameras were back on. Not enough time. He grabbed some gum and mints, and all the change out of the take-a-penny tray. As an after thought, he plunked a few pennies back on to the cold metal tray. Can’t be too noticeable. He strolled out of the store, glancing at the cameras. Still off, approximately a 30 second job. Not bad, he thought, smirking. Cody made his way to Luis’ apartment, chewing on pilfered gum.

The city landscape rose and fell, building to building, all similar, all different, and all amazing in their own way. Cody loved New York; it was his domain, his kingdom. All he had to do was take what he wanted. He half wished he had more then four years left. Five would be enough. But, then again, the pain at that point would be unbearable. Creutzfeldt �" Jakob’s disease was deadly.

But then again, so was Cody.

Ruth smiled gently at the five of them. She had been assigned to keep them mentally equipped for their early deaths. She was a motherly figure, gracefully slim with honey eyes. She loved each of the children, and grieved silently for their short lives. That visit, her curly copper hair was twisted into a graceful, loose bun, and stuck through with elegantly carved chopsticks.

“How was everyone’s week?” She chirped, glancing at each in turn.

Iris considered her week of fighting how she truly felt for Sam, and her final decision to just stay friends with him. “Mine was normal; crazy.” Iris glanced out the window, tracing the whorls on her usual wooden rocking chair seat.

Naomi thought of her love for art, her mother’s fear of it, and her father. “Average,” Naomi said simply, drumming her fingers on the arm rest of her floral arm lounger.

Luis remembered Jay. How his new friend made him feel. Happier… different…freer. “Nothing new,” Luis said with a smile, shifting his weight on the off white couch.

Sam wondered about his headache. “Same,” he muttered, the only one actually telling the truth. He rolled his shoulders back and moved his legs, sitting cross legged on his resting spot on the ottoman.

Cody didn’t even consider his theft. Ruth would be appalled. “Boring.” He sighed heavily and sat further back into his seat next to Luis.

Ruth frowned at the group, but said nothing.

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