Setting the stage

Aron couldn't sleep. He was tired, sure, but the black oblivion of sleep wouldn't overcome him. Something. some tittering sense of foreboding was at the back of his mind, and it wouldn't let him rest. 

'Perhaps I just need a snack,' he thought to himself. He went to the cupboard and rummaged around until he found a mason jar half-way full of a dark liquid. Licking his lips, Aron removed the lid and raised the jar to his mouth.

He rolled the sweet nectar around in his mouth with his tongue, savoring its sweet flavor. It was cold, though, so it had coagulated, giving it the texture of thick cream verging on spoiling. Aron swallowed a few mouthfuls then put the jar back, sighing with frustration. He ran a hand through his wild mane of red hair.

'Okay, lets try a walk,' he decided.

Aron was already wearing a pair of black jeans, so he pulled on a purple shirt and left his apartment, thankful the sun wasn't unbearably high yet. Still, he stuck to the shadows.

As he walked, he concentrated on the nagging sensation in the back of his mind. As he thought about it, his feet walked automatically, turning random corners. Finally, he found himself on an unfamiliar, still suburb street lined by small one- and two-story houses. Thankfully, the sidewalk was dotted with leafy trees providing blessed shade.

Looking around from the safety and relative comfort of the shade of a large oak, he noticed a blue minivan pulling up up in front of one of the houses and parking alongside of the sidewalk.

Curious, he jumped up into the oak and settled on one of the thicker limbs to watch.



Care "Carey" Smith sat in the backseat of her mother's minivan, her earphones blaring Beethoven, a worn green volume labeled 'Our family' on the cover in gold lettering. She watched the scenery of this quiet Michigan suburb flash by. She was 13, and this was the first time she had been away from New York for longer than a day.

She fingered the cover of the album, rubbing her fingers over the letters. In the slim tome was some of her last mementos of her past life- including her father.
 
Carey opened the book and traced the edge of the first photo- a family portrait from when she was a baby.She smiled fondly as she looked over the familiar picture. Her parents sat next to each other, smiling at the camera.

Her father, Stan, wore a powder blue suit. His curly brown hair was combed straight back revealing his high forehead and bushy eyebrows. His blue eyes shone. Carey's mom, Patience, sat there in a light cream colored dress and white heels. A silver chain with a locket adorned her neck and her short, straight blond  hair was pulled away from her face with two silver clasps. Her face glowed with happiness and her emerald eyes sparkled. Carey herself was only one in this picture, but you could tell she was her parents' child. Her short, dark curls were just like her dad's, but her green eyes were just like her mom's. A yellow-green ribbon adorned her hair and she wore a spring green summer dress embroidered with yellow flowers.

She slowly turned the pages of the album, looking at each picture in turn even though she already had burned every image into her memory. As she looked at each picture, she thought of her old life, back on Dupont Street.

When she was five, Carey's parents bought a small two-story house on Dupont Street. There was a good school nearby, lots of other families with kids Carey's age, and her dad's work was close. They lived there for the next three years without really standing out. She befriended her next door neighbors, Becky Goldberg and Daniel Green quickly and within a year was completely settled in her new surroundings.

The next year the trio started kindergarten together. School was fairly uneventful for them all for the next two years. When they were in second grade, they spent a month studying the pioneers. On the last day of the unit, the students were all supposed to do some sort of presentation on pioneer life.

The three friends decided to re-enact a day in school for a pioneer child. They all dressed up and everything. That was how she found out that she enjoyed wearing 1800's clothing.

Her parents were fine with her dressing that way, as long as she could do everything she normally could in jeans. At first, everyone told her she was weired, but she wasn't the type to buckle under peer pressure. Eventually, everyone accepted her rustic costume to the point where she was given the nickname 'Time Traveler' or T.T. for short. Over time, people became so used to her clothes that when she wore normal jeans and t-shirts, everyone thought she looked funny. She usually kept her long unruly hair in a thick braid. She was also never seen without her necklace- a gold chain with a small pendant in the shape of a rose, witch Danny gave her for her 10th birthday.

Carey also learned several other important pioneer skills. But she really shone when it came to her sewing. She would show off her skills everyday in the form of her clothes. Once she had gotten good enough, she started to sew her own dresses. 

A month after she turned 13, the three started middle school together. The school year passed like any other. Then it happened.

Three months ago, in March, her father went to work, just like any other morning. But he never came home. They searched for a month before finally giving up. There was no trace of were he could have gone, and no reason for him to just up and leave.

Carey's eyes teared with tears of pain and anger just thinking of him. The stream of pictures stopped in the middle of the book. She stared at the last picture. It was the last photo of their family, taken the Sunday before he disappeared. The had all went to a nearby park for a picnic.

In the picture, her parents sat side by side and Carey stood behind, holding a Frisbee. Her dad wore loose jeans and a plain blue tee, his hair blown about by the wind. Her mom wore jeans and a white tank top. Her hair was longer than in the first picture and held back in a ponytail. Carey herself wore a pale blue short-sleeved dress, her gold necklace glittering. They were all grinning hugely, all happy.

After the search for her father stopped, Carey's mother decided that it would be best to move here after the school year finished. Patience rented a small one-story house in a tiny city in Michigan, called Cabel. She also got a job in a grocery store to support them.

Mom had said this would help them try to 'start over and forget', but Carey knew she would never forget. Never.

Carey was yanked from her reverie when the car lurched to a stop in front of a nondescript white house with gray roofing tiles and a white porch. The door was a wood finish. The front lawn was lush and green with a slender cement path cutting its way through the lawn, leading the way to the porch. Carey and her mom stood side by side, just looking.

"Well," Patience asked, her green eyes hopeful, "how do you like it?"

Carey shrugged and replied in a detached and unemotional voice, "It works."

Carey's mom sighed, obviously hoping for more of a response, but nonetheless led the way down the path. Carey followed, the hard heels of her pioneer era leather shoes clicking softly , her ankle-length tan skirts slightly hampering her movement.

Carey didn't notice the young red-haired pale-skinned boy in the nearby oak, his black eyes wide as saucers in surprise.                                                                       
          

Author's Note

Sorry it took a while. Any feedback it highly appreciated! thx ;)

Reviews

[Jessie Sianodel]

I like it, definitely not full of typical stereotypes. A girl in pioneer clothes? In modern times? Definitely not.

I don't know, but something is not completely meshing right. The beginning was fine, but when you get into Carey's story the paragraphs kind of sound a little....I don't know, choppy? Maybe you could put more of a transmission, but that might just me. But I do want to read more, so it works as a first chapter!

-Jessie

[the-One-with-the-Darkne..]

I really enjoyed this very creeative want tot hear more Also rasding and music is how i escape we hace sometihng in common ;)

[lyssilou]

i really like it. it is unique!

[isthatamonkey]

I really liked this. I think it flowed well, and from what I read, I think you have a real knack for writing. :)