OneA Chapter by Becki Intro O N E “Luke! You are so dead!” Ember Mathews yelled furiously as she chased her little brother down the hall in their small cottage.
“I don’t think so, Em!”
“And don’t call me Em!” She screamed, wrenching open his bedroom door and charging in after him.
“My, my, you must have had a bad nights sleep.” The ten-year-old observed.
“It was fine until you woke me up with that stupid music of yours!”
“Oh, you heard that, did you?”
“Of course I heard it! You were playing it full volume in down my earlobe!”
“Why the annoyed look, sis?”
“You know why, I-” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to get her temper under control. She eventually managed, “I’m so glad I’m not related to you by blood.”
“Tell me about it, why Mum had to pick you, out of all the kids in the adoption centre I’ll never know. It can’t be because you were cute, because you so weren’t-”
“How would you know?! You weren’t even born then!”
“-it can’t be because of your sweet and gentle nature, again for obvious reasons,”
“Don’t get started on my temper again! And I distinctly remember telling you to never wake me up before eleven!”
“You can’t avoid dad forever you know.” Luke remarked slowly, watching the fiery redhead carefully.
“I know.” Sadness was clear in her voice, “It just annoys me so much, the way he treats Mum.”
“At least you can get away from him for three months.”
“Yeah, but Birmingham isn’t exactly amazing is it? No sand, no mates...hey, how about I take you and Kenny to the beach later?” He squealed. Ember winced. “Never do that in front of your friends. I’m gonna go back to bed now, if you wake me up, there’ll be hell to pay, got it?” He nodded, still grinning insanely. As Ember strolled back to her own messy bedroom, she couldn’t help but let a smile spread onto her lips.
*
Despite what she had said, Ember knew it would be futile to try and go back to sleep. Once the sun was up, Ember was up and couldn’t, no matter how dark the room or how comfy the pillow, fall asleep again. So instead, she got her sketchbook and sat on her window seat (after clearing it of clutter with one sweep of her arm). She flicked though the pages, they were mainly of one thing; the view she was looking at at that very moment. She drew it nearly every day, taking in every slight change in the scenery. Some girls kept a diary, Ember was much too unique to do that.
After she had made her own lunch (her foster mother worked in the hospital in Truro and her foster father would still be sleeping off the aftermath of his ‘little trip’ to the pub last night) she went to collect Luke from Kenny’s. Kenny was the most irritating and infuriating little boy she’d ever known but he and Luke were inseparable, much to her annoyance.
The small Cornish village thy lived in was set on a slope down towards the tiny harbour and golden beach. As Ember, with Luke and Kenny following and occasionally giggling hysterically, wound her way down towards the beach. On her way down, she was joined by various friends coming out of their own houses to join her.
The village’s teenagers, despite their small number,
The small Cornish village they lived in was set on a slope down towards the tiny harbour and golden beach. As she wound her way down towards the beach where she always met her mates, they joined her, appearing out of houses and lanes. But then they were interrupted by another gang who’s leader was also a girl, so naturally there was some rivalry between the two groups. The village teenagers were split evenly, half on Ember’s side and half on Stacey’s. This rivalry was made worse by the fact that Ember and Stacey both liked the same boy at their school in Truro so the rivalry was viewed as a contest for him.
Stacey had badly dyed blonde hair that had been a lank brown originally. Her pink nail varnish was chipped and she had bright red lipstick on her teeth. She was dressed in a short mini-skirt and a tiny halter-neck. Fake tan was splattered liberally on her arms, legs and face; so much so that she looked like an orange. But despite her failed attempt at looking like a Barbie doll, she was tough, almost as good as Ember in a fight and just as good as her on a skateboard. She was coming over now. Her gang pushed Ember’s out of the way to make room for Stacey to walk through them. Some of Ember’s gang retaliated and fights started up. Stacey walked forward in what Ember presumed she thought was cool, strutting forward, until she tripped in her ridiculously high heels, Ember laughed, mockingly.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Mathews!” Stacey said, glaring murderously at Ember, like it was Ember’s fault she tripped.
“Done what?” Ember asked maliciously.
“You know perfectly well what.” Then she noticed Luke standing behind Ember. “What have we here? A mini Mathews, eh? God, he looks just as puny as his sister!” She laughed and all of her gang joined in. Ember felt anger bubbling up inside her as she looked around at all of the laughing faces. No one insults Luke. She thought with a hatred that shocked her. She looked at Stacey, just looked at her. Stacey saw something in her eyes that she hadn’t seen before, something dangerous.
“No one insults my brother, but me. No one. You just started something I’m never gonna let you forget. Grab your skateboard; we’re going to have a competition.” She smiled dangerously, her eyes flashing.
“What’s the point in you even competing?” Stacey snickered. “We all know I’m better than you.”
“In those heels? I don’t think so.” Ember said, glancing down at Stacey’s stilettos. Stacey said something to a member of her gang and a pair of trainers were passed forward. She slipped them on and held a hand out for her skateboard, it was passed to her without a sound; everyone’s eyes were on the two girls.
“Now we’re even!” Stacey smirked again.
“Right, even in everything but talent, you know I’ve got a lot more than you!” Ember snapped. Stacey watched her rival with growing alarm. They were evenly matched in skateboarding, everyone knew that, but today something was different about her. She was more confident, but it wasn’t that. Her golden eyes seemed to burn with an uncontrollable anger and the sun was reflecting off her already bright hair, creating a fiery halo around her head.
“Come on then, let’s do it, unless you’re too scared you’ll lose?” Ember taunted.
“To you? As if!” Stacey sneered back, “still, I suppose it would be quite fun to see you get ground to a pulp in front of your gang!” she smirked.
“Let’s get on with it then.” They walked over to the top of the steep road, that other people had placed makeshift jumps and ramps down, and took their positions. Ember looked up and saw that the blazing sun was right overhead, burning across an azure sky. It was midday, the warmest time; Ember could see steam rising off the narrow roads.
Everything was silent.
Ember looked up again at the sun and closed her eyes, letting its warmth and strength absorb into her. Then she heard a startled cry, her eyes flew open and she stared in shock at the wheels of Stacey’s skateboard. They had melted into the tarmac, making them unable to turn.
“What the…?”Stacey looked in complete disbelief at her skateboard. Ember took advantage of the situation to speed ahead and complete the course in record time. She came back up the hill to where Stacy was still struggling with her pink skateboard. Someone had offered her another, but she refused, claiming that she couldn’t use a ‘cheap and nasty’ skateboard. The person had looked rather affronted at this, and had glanced back at the rest of Stacey’s gang, frowning slightly.
They had thought that their leader was so nice, so kind, so good at everything. But now she had shown her true colours, and her gang didn’t like what they saw. They saw a spoilt child, refusing to touch something that she thought beneath her. They saw their glorious leader, defeated, and taking it badly. She was yelling at Ember now, as if it was Ember’s fault for her wheels sticking to the ground. Her gang shifted uneasily. They had seen it wasn’t Ember’s fault, why was Stacey acting like this?
Then one girl, Nina, walked out from their midst and approached Ember. Stacey smiled, thinking that she was going to slap Ember or something, but no. Nina quietly asked Ember if she could swap gangs. Ember glanced at Stacey, laughter in her eyes, then smiled at Nina and said that of course she could, then more people came out, making the same request, until eventually there were only two teenagers left with Stacey. Stacey’s jaw had dropped open. Now it snapped shut, her teeth grinding together, her eyes a strange mixture of hurt and loathing.
“Why doesn’t anyone slap her?!” Her ‘friends’ looked away from her. She burst out crying and was lead away by her two remaining followers. Everyone looked at Ember as if asking what next?
“My god, melodramatic much?” said Ember rolling her golden eyes. The tension was broken as everyone laughed and began swapping numbers with their new mates. Luke just gazed adoringly at his sister while Kenny picked his nose. Everyone started moving off in the direction of the beach as they usually did when it got hot.
The pink skateboard lay forgotten and abandoned. Only Ember looked back at it, glued to the tarmac. Something strange had happened, it had been hot yes, but not hot enough to melt tarmac. And even if it had been hot enough the rest of the tarmac should have melted too. Why did only that bit melt? And why had she felt so strange just before?
*
In the middle of Warwickshire in the east wing of a huge mansion, Orchid Carmina Willoughby yawned and stretched luxuriously in her satin sheets, slowly opening her eyes. She sat up and rang a small golden bell that was next to her bed. A moment later a maid knocked on the door, then came in, curtseyed, then said politely,
“Low fat strawberry yogurt, Miss Orchid, as usual?”
“Yes, Angela, with freshly squeezed orange juice, no bits.”
“Naturally, Miss Orchid.” The maid hurried off, relived that Orchid had chosen her normal breakfast, that meant she could bring it in almost instantly, Orchid could get really angry if she was kept waiting. Meanwhile, Orchid swung her legs out of bed and into very fluffy slippers then slipped into an equally fluffy dressing gown.
As she waited for the maid to bring in her breakfast, she assessed her reflection in the ornate hand-carved mirror that had been imported from Venice. She would never dream of tell her mother this, but Orchid thought that she looked better without all of the make up her mother insisted she wore. She smoothed her chestnut locks of hair worriedly; she thought it was looking decidedly frizzy today, when in fact she was one of those annoying people whose hair stays looking perfect no matter what happens to it. Her best feature was her startlingly emerald eyes, though she disagreed. She hated the small spattering of freckles across her nose, and had her maids’ plaster on foundation liberally to cover them.
Sighing at her reflection, she wandered over to the door that led out onto the balcony. She opened it, stepped out and breathed in the fresh, morning breeze. She liked living in the country. All its smells, the huge trees, the plants and all the different colours of flowers, like a rainbow. She loved it.
Just then the maid walked in and placed Orchid’s breakfast on a table. Orchid waved the maid out, still annoyed. Orchid ate her breakfast and went through into her dressing room where her personal maid was waiting to style her hair and help pick her clothes from the huge walk-in wardrobe full of designer clothes and shoes. She had her hair, brushed, trimmed, curled and piled up elaborately on top of her head in the latest fashion. This fashion however, just made her face look flabby and pale. Too get rid of her pallor, Orchid didn’t change her hairstyle, only the amount of makeup she used. Her mother had recommended her to ‘layer it up’ and the out come was makeup an inch thick, because she always listened to her mother. She looked awful, but she thought that the more makeup and the more expensive the clothes you wore were, the better you looked.
“Nicola, tell Mrs Dawson that I won’t be here for lunch will you? I’ll be back by four to discuss floral arrangements for my party with Mama.”
“Yes Miss Orchid. Where are you going, Miss?”
“I’m going shopping for shoes with Charlotte and Amelia. I think I shall wear the pink Jimmy Choos, the white Chanel skirt, the pale pink chiffon Dior top, the white Versace jacket…and the pink Pravda handbag.” She said very quickly, then paused and asked, “Did you get that?”
“Yes, Miss Orchid.” Nicola smiled. It had taken her a while to get use to Orchid’s stylish wardrobe at first, but now she knew every item of clothing in it, which was a considerable feat considering how big the wardrobe was, that was why she was irreplaceable, and Orchid knew it.
“Where’s Marie? I told you to always bring her to my room when I am picking clothes! She’s my muse...oh, there’s my little baby cakes!” The last part was addressed to a snow-white, clipped miniature poodle; with a diamond collar no less, that had just trotted in. Nicola rolled her eyes, that dog was a menace, only Orchid and her mother didn’t see it. Maria had a whole wardrobe to itself, all pink designer doggy coats and luxury travel carriers. Orchid had gathered Marie into her arms and had given her a hug. One thing Nicola could say was: Orchid did love her dog and Marie was devoted to her.
“Now, my darling, would you like to go shopping with your mummy today? Would you, baby? If you’re good, I might even buy you another cape, I saw a gorgeous one in Harrods the other day, but I was in too big a rush to buy it. Shall we do that then, darling? Shall we?” Orchid walked out of the room, still taking to Marie. Nicola rolled her eyes again and followed them.
*
Orchid had returned from her shopping trip, her chauffeur heavily leaden down with bags. On entering her mansion, she passed them to a maid telling her to put them away. Then she went out into the formal garden where her mother was waiting.
Her mother was stunningly beautiful with blonde hair also piled up in the latest fashion only it suited her, emphasising her high cheekbones. She had soft brown eyes with long, dark lashes that she batted flirtatiously at the butler who was serving her drinks where she sat at a table.
“Darling!” her mother cried, holding her hands out to her.
“Mama!” Orchid replied, kissing the air next to her mother’s cheeks as she sat down next to her. “So anyway, about the party, I was thinking…” Her mother broke in, her eyes filling with tears as she cried desperately,
“Oh darling, I’m not sure we can have a party.”
“Oh Mama, why ever not?! The guests are invited, I’ve ordered my dress, the caterers are preparing right this minute, the band is booked and the florists are here now expecting my decision. Why can’t we have a party?”
“Darling, in case you haven’t noticed…the grass is completely yellow, I can’t present my garden looking like this. I have a reputation!” Her mother waved an elegant white arm towards the lawn. Orchid looked and saw that her mother was right; the normally perfect lawn was brown and dry. Her face fell. Her mother, upon seeing her downcast expression said anxiously,
“I’ll have a word with the gardeners to see if they can do anything about it, there’s still two days after all!”
“Thank you mama.” Orchid said, smiling. She watched as her mother gracefully sashayed back up the path. Her mother meant well, but she wasn’t the brightest of people, bless her.
Orchid turned and walked out into the middle of the dead lawn and sat down. She ran her fingers through it, it was coarse, dry, and felt sorry for it. It wasn’t its fault that the sun had baked it. It wasn’t its fault that the nasty weed killer the gardener sprayed daily on it had killed it, as Orchid was sure this was one of the reasons it had dried out so quickly. But not have a party? It was unthinkable. The Willoughby parties were famous. She flung herself down on the grass and cried her eyes out. Then a strange thing happened, it was if the grass had entered her mind. No, not the grass, its essence, its soul and spirit and had given her strength. She sat up and wiped her eyes. Then she gasped as she looked around her. Where there had been dry, dead grass around her, it was know bursting with life. The grass was a lush, rich green, the birds were singing and daises had popped up everywhere.
Suddenly the peace was shattered by a shrill scream. Orchid turned to see her mother standing on the veranda, clutching the rail and staring in horror at the lawn. Orchid jumped up and rushed over to where her mother was standing, frozen.
“Mama, what ever is the matter?” Her mother raised a trembling arm and pointed it at the lawn.
“It’s…it’s…it’s covered in weeds!” Orchid looked back at the bright green grass. In her eyes, the lawn was perfect, her mother obviously didn’t agree.
“Gardener…gardener! Get your weed killer out, we have an infestation!”
“Mama, what is it?”
“Look, they’ve just sprouted up everywhere!” Orchid looked again, but all she could see where the daises.
“Do you mean the daises?”
“Of course I mean the daises! What else could I mean?”
“Oh, Mama! Please don’t kill the daises! They give it the…the…the family touch!”
“Hmmm. I suppose that that can be one thing Lady Reeves hasn’t thought of…alright darling.”
“Oh, thank you very much, Mama!” Her mother patted her distractedly on her head and wandered back into the mansion. Orchid turned to stare at the lawn. What on earth had just happened? In the blink of an eye, the dry grass had become fresh and green. Her mother may believe that it was the gardener’s ‘amazing’ solution that had made it green again, but Orchid was certain that wasn’t it. She had been out there the whole time, and she hadn’t seen the gardener. But, she had felt a little strange when she was lying on the grass, like she was completely in tune with her surroundings. That was something for her to think about, but for now, she had a party to prepare for.
*
Zephyr was sitting at her white desk in her white room with her white skin glowing from the reflection of her laptop’s screen. Her mum knocked on the door softly, came in and smiled timidly at Zephyr. She was struck, as always by the sharp contrast of her daughter’s white room with her jet black hair and gaunt face. Zephyr was impossibly thin with bony arms and stick-like legs. She calmly regarded her mother with emotionless grey eyes, sunk into her skull by lack of sleep.
“Time to get ready, sweetheart” she said tentatively.
“If I must.” said Zephyr in a flat voice.
“What would you like for breakfast, darling?”
“Dry toast.”
“You need to have more protein. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day…” Her voice trailed off as Zephyr fixed her with an empty stare. “I’ll just go and make it then…” Her mum slipped out. It went the same way every morning, exactly the same conversation.
Zephyr smiled. She loved the power she had over her mother, she felt strong and in control. It worked on everyone, teachers, people at school, except her sister. Her sister didn’t look frightened when Zephyr turned her cold stare on her; she just laughed and walked away. Zephyr hated her sister. She was everything Zephyr wasn’t, popular, funny, lovable, with amazing people skills. She was pretty too, blonde hair in perfect waves and big blue eyes. She had caused a mild sensation when she had moved to Zephyr’s school. She was older then Zephyr, so assumed she could boss her around, Zephyr didn’t stand for that. She argued, she shouted, she talked softly, in her hypnotising voice. Roxanne didn’t fall for it.
At that moment there was a tap on the door and Roxanne entered. The she-devil herself stepped into the room, tossed her long, blonde hair over her slender shoulder and said,
“Rory’s coming round to take me to town in a minute, so stay inside. I don’t want people to associate me with you. I swear, you’re adopted.” Roxanne shook her head, her hair bouncing around, then falling effortlessly back into place. Rory was Roxanne’s boyfriend, cool, popular, and generally just as perfect as Roxanne. Highlighted hair combined with ‘dreamy’ brown eyes and hours in the gym made him just about irresistible to all females, except Zephyr. He was so full of himself, it made Zephyr feel sick. He was out there now, in his flash sports car, honking on his horn, waking all the neighbours up. Roxanne rushed to the window and waved. She turned back to Zephyr and said,
“Isn’t it great?! Rory got his licence last week and his uncle, you know, the really rich one, brought it for him! Just imagine, in a year that could be me, pity you have to wait four years.”
“It’s my birthday in two days, remember? Oh I’m so sorry, I forgot that you’re a blonde, things go in one ear and out the other.” Zephyr said in a malicious voice. “Anyway, can’t Rory take me to town as well? Or you did forget that Mum said that you have to take me as well, blondie?” Roxanne narrowed her eyes at Zephyr.
“You are going to be sorry you said that…blackie!”
“Is that the best you can come up with?” Zephyr sneered. Roxanne floundered.
“I’m leaving now, and no you can’t come with us, weren’t you listening to anything I was saying earlier? Well, got to go, ciao.” With that Roxanne waltzed out of the door, leaving the cloying scent of her favourite perfume on the air. Zephyr wrinkled her nose in distaste and swiftly walked over to open the window.
She gazed down at Roxanne who had just flown out of the door and into Rory’s arms. Pure hatred bubbled up inside her. She had won this time, but there were countless other times when things had turned out differently. Like the time Roxanne thought it would ‘amusing’ to spread a rumour about Zephyr around the school, everyone had believed her, of course they did. She was Roxanne was the pretty one, Roxanne was the friendly one, Roxanne was the popular one. ‘What happened to Zephyr?’ was the phrase on everyone’s lips when Roxanne had moved to the school. As she gazed down at her sister, who was now passionately wrapped around Rory, Zephyr smiled a cold, cruel smile. She would bring Roxanne to her knees, and she would start with her boyfriend.
*
Zephyr was gripping the window sill hard, her long pointed nails making marks in the wood, glaring down at her sister. She wanted to ruin Roxanne’s social life, starting with Rory. She smiled like a cat that had caught several birds. She knew exactly what to do. She went to her entirely white wardrobe, with a few black things, and selected a long, floor length black skirt, a shapeless black jumper and huge black boots. For a finishing touch she added a black crucifix, applied thick black eye liner around her eyes and black lipstick. Zephyr regarded herself in the mirror and smiled what Roxanne called her vampire smile that revealed her two pointed teeth on either side of her mouth. Satisfied with the effect, Zephyr slipped silently out of her room, leaving it as if she had never been there.
She emerged out of the house to find Roxanne chatting to Rory about the ‘amazing’ party last night while she waited for her mum to get some money for her. When Zephyr appeared Rory stopped nodding at Roxanne and instead stared at Zephyr. Roxanne noticed and turned to see what he was staring at, and a murderous look appeared in her eyes, she hurried over and dug her painted talons into Zephyr’s arm.
“Inside now!” she hissed.
“Oh don’t worry, sister dearest I’m going so you can get to do what you were telling me all about last night.” Zephyr said loudly, winking at Rory, “She’s told me all about what she’s done with you, Rory.” She was playing the innocent little sister to the full as she looked back at Roxanne. “I really came out here to ask you what you thought of my outfit. I mean, I know they’re all from your wardrobe, I was just wondering what you thought they looked like on me.”
“Those are your clothes, Roxy?” Rory asked in a disbelieving voice.
“No, no, no. I would never wear something like that…” But the damage was done. Rory was looking at Roxanne with something like suspicion in his eyes, but it was hard to tell because, frankly, Rory’s expression didn’t change very much.
“Roxanne, those aren’t in fashion now, they never were! What was going through your head when you brought them?!”
“It was for…” Roxanne said, thinking quickly, “…Halloween! That was it, I brought them at this quaint old shop I found when me and Katie got lost. We went in to ask for directions, then I saw this, Halloween was coming up so I thought: why not?”
“Oh, that explains things, but why is your sister wearing it, when Halloween is still a month away?”
“She’s just weird, you know her.” Roxanne smirked, linking her arm through Rory’s while directing a triumphant glance over her shoulder at Zephyr.
Zephyr was fuming inwardly but on the outside she managed to maintain her cool demeanour as she turned and walked sedately inside the house. But upstairs was a different story, she ranted and raved, yelling pointlessly at the blank walls, but Zephyr was not one for wasting energy. She took several deep breaths in to calm her self down…and began to think of a way to get her sister back. She wouldn’t have gone yet, it always took her scatter-brained mother at least half an hour to find her handbag, let alone count out enough money for one of Roxanne’s shopping trips.
Then a breeze blew in through the window that Zephyr had left open earlier to rid the room of Roxanne’s perfume. It tugged on her skirt, imploring her to come to the window. She went. Which was unusual for Zephyr, she never obeyed anyone or anything. But the breeze was so refreshing, just what she needed to cool her temper. Opening the window wide, she noticed her sister, still waiting for their mother, still laughing at her with Rory. The anger, humiliation, returned, but this time, the wind didn’t calm her. It soared with her, roaring in her ears, a sharp contrast to the gentle breeze of before. It reflected her feelings perfectly, the first time anything had ever understood her. She flew with the wind, feeling its strength and power, the power to blow boats out of the path of a storm…or right into its centre. It was the power Zephyr had been looking for, but never finding, all her life. It also had the power to make people look ridiculous, Zephyr smiled, an idea forming in her head.
A sheet on the line standing a little way away, tugged at the pegs holding it down. But determined to be free, it pulled away, and was carried by the wind to wrap itself around and around Roxanne. She screamed as it enveloped her and Rory burst out laughing. Upstairs, Zephyr smiled, Roxanne would never know, but Zephyr had scored another point against her. That feeling, Zephyr decided, the one just before the sheet had been ripped off the washing line, was an incredible one. One that had to be explored, but not now, now she could just revel in her victory, and wonder about how she did it later.
*
Sunlight steamed through the open curtains onto Aqua’s calm face. Her ever-changing blue eyes flickered open. She blinked, glanced at her the clock on her bedside table and rolled out of bed. She slipped into her simple clothes and ran a brush through her white-gold curls, then went to see if her grandmother was awake yet. She wasn’t really her grandmother. She had adopted Aqua when she was a baby, but now her health was failing and could only just get up to make her lunchtime meals. Aqua did the rest of the work. She cooked breakfast and dinner, before she went to school and when she got home. She cleaned the little bungalow they lived in. She drew water up from the outside well because they didn’t have any running water or electricity. And all this was before she went to school.
That particular morning she went into her grandma’s room to check that she was alright.
“Are you all right, Grandma? You were coughing a lot last night.” Aqua asked, concerned.
“I’m just a little thirsty that’s all. I’m feeling much better. I’m sure that I will be able to get up and help you today.”
“Grandma, you say that every morning, and we all know what happened last time you tried to help. Look, I know that you feel helpless, and a burden, but you’re not. You’re ill. That’s why you’ve got to stay in bed. I don’t mind doing everything. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
“You’re a sweet girl, Aqua, and I know that you want to help me, but I feel so useless. I hate seeing you do all the work around here, and keep up your school studies as well. I don’t know how you do it. A girl your age should be going shopping with her friends after school and at the weekends, not stuck here looking after me.”
“Grandma, I told you I don’t mind. I’ll go and make you breakfast now, and remember, don’t get up!”
Aqua gave her grandma a quick kiss and a hug, then went into the kitchen, today was a Sunday, so no school. That left her a whole day to look after her grandma. It meant her grandma didn’t have to get up to make herself lunch, which was a relief to Aqua because that was always her main worry, that her grandma would hurt herself while trying to get up and there would be nobody in the house to look after her until Aqua got home much later. Aqua smiled. She loved weekends, simply because she could be with the old woman.
Today she would do that weeding in the garden, and then she could plant some spring bulbs so that in the springtime her grandma could look out of her bedroom window and see tulips, daffodils and crocuses. Maybe if she was feeling better she might even be able to get outside to smell them as well. Aqua collected the bulbs, stepped outside and breathed in the crisp, morning air, it was a beautiful day.
*
Aqua was busy making dinner, nothing fancy, just some homemade chicken soup. The doctor had prescribed her grandma a food timetable that listed everything her grandma had to eat and when she had to eat them. Aqua had taken one look at the expensive ingredients and thrown it in the bin. Instead she made things that were high in protein to help her grandma get better quicker.
Then she heard her grandma coughing. She rushed into her room and supported her grandma’s head while she tilted a glass of water so that a small amount of the liquid trickled into the old woman’s mouth. She had soon finished the glass, but still wanted more.
Aqua hurried outside to the well and lowered the bucket down, waiting for the splash as it hit the water. But it didn’t come. She kept on lowering until she came to the end of the rope. Still no splash. She frowned, thinking that she must have missed it. So she pulled it up…but it was empty. Oh no, she thought to herself, not again. Last time the well dried up I had to leave Grandma for two whole hours as I walked up into town to buy some water.
She sighed and sat down next to the well. She couldn’t leave her grandma alone, not when she was in this state. But if she didn’t go and get some water her grandma would die from dehydration. What could she do? She began to cry, horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, brought on by sheer helplessness. Suddenly she felt a wave of calm wash over her, as if cool water was washing all the rage and despair out of her. She took a deep breath in and got up to go inside to tell her grandma where she was going.
As she got up, she nearly tripped over the bucket; she looked down and gasped in astonishment. The bucket was full of crystal clear water that reflected her face like a mirror. She gasped again, her eyes. She knew that they changed shade to reflect her mood, but they were a colour that they had never turned before. A deep, fathomless blue that seemed to reach down into the depths of her soul, and then they changed back to their usual forget-me-not colour.
She blinked and shook her head slightly to clear it. Something strange had happened. Her logical brain struggled to find an explanation. The water, she must have missed it when it came up, for some reason she hadn’t seen it. Yes, that must be it, she hadn’t noticed it. But her eyes, it didn’t explain why her eyes had turned that colour. Anyway, she didn’t have time to ponder it now; she had to get the water back to her grandma.
She slipped into the room carefully carrying a jug that she had poured the water into. Her grandma smiled gently at her.
“You look troubled, dear, what’s the matter?” Aqua sighed, she didn’t want to tell her grandma about what had just happened, but she always told her everything so she proceeded to relate to the old woman everything that had taken place outside by the well. When she had finished, her grandma looked at her contemplatively.
“You’re growing up. Your fourteenth birthday is not far off. When it comes, you must not be surprised and you must not try to escape your destiny.” With that the old woman, who was in fact older than Aqua or anyone could have guessed, rolled over and started to snore while Aqua stared at her in astonishment. What was that all about? The doctors had warned her that she might start to lose her mind, but Aqua had refused to believe it until now.
Her forehead creased with worry Aqua left the room, turning only once to look the vulnerable frame lying on the bed.
© 2008 BeckiAuthor's Note
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