I. Dominant Eye

Hearing the sound of a powerful breeze blowing swiftly, I gaze at the warm leaves hanging from their soaring branches. As the fresh autumn air pushes against my back, I immediately feel energy streaming from my crown to my toes. I feel free… alive. I count ten long seconds before finally exhaling the remaining oxygen from my lungs, releasing all tension from my body. Instinctively, I raise my hand to adjust my dancing dark threads behind my ears. I should know that it was quite useless; the air is blowing violently today.
With both legs standing straight one next to the other, my torso is as still as a log while I look over my left shoulder. With time, I learned that concentration is the key. At the same time that I take a second deep breath, I lift my red bow up forward and aim for the middle of the colored target, 50 meters away on the grassy field. Seconds pass while I focus with my right eye. I cannot move an inch or my efforts will be in vain. Yet, I am confident and comfortable with my bow.
Letting my mind erase everything except for my goal, I am shielded from all distraction. I am completely centered. My three fingers are holding the arrow shaft against the tense arrow rest, ready to snap at my signal. I feel every inch of my muscles, my left arm reaching forward, my left, firmly reaching back in a bend. Then, in complete stillness, I let go of the arrow just like I did countless times before. Cutting through the air with the speed of a bullet, it shoots directly towards the target, sticking its head right in the middle of the yellow circle, making it a perfect attempt.
"Whoa! May, that must be one of your best shots!"
Pulled out of my deep focus, I turn around to peek from where the shout came from and spot Emma, skipping in my direction with astonishment mixed with a tiny bit of envy painted on her freckled face.
"Thanks Em, but I haven't been able to hit the 10 points section for three times in a row yet. The regional’s are in less than two weeks and I need to be more than ready" I say in a lament.
"Oh, stop being so hard on yourself! I'm not a pro like you."
She then fakes an upset face. I quickly realize that I should've probably accepted her compliment but I am not satisfied with my technique, yet. I want a place in the nationals this year and I know that it will only happen if I stay focused and prepared. However, once I was practicing alone for restless hours on this vast public practice field and I noticed that I was working way too hard. Later, a solution popped into my mind. Emma now comes every Tuesdays to practice with me. She always knows how to cheer me up and she also gives me the opportunity to teach her some archery basics.
"This is your sixth practice and I'm sure that you'll be very good with a little more training. Go on, try to shoot as close as possible to my arrow and remember to stay grounded on your two feet." I finally answer.
Noticing her hesitation, I gently push her forward. After my bow is put aside, I cross my arms and walk ahead to examine my small framed friend frowning in application while aiming with her beginner bow.
"Stand with solid legs and keep both arms strong."
"Ok." she answers while adjusting her position.
In a ponytail, her golden hair is going down her back and threads of rebel hair are hanging over her forehead. Even tough she is taller than my 5"4; Emma is fragile and delicate, like a porcelain doll. But to my surprise, she opens her fingers and releases the arrow to hit the target... and splits my arrow in half. My jaw drops to my knees.
"A Robin Hood! Is that even possible?" Astonished, I can’t believe what I just saw.
"What's that?" She asks innocently but with a proud smile, since she had hit the 10 points for the first time.
"Did you just see what you did there? You didn't simply hit the middle of the target, your arrow also implemented right into mine. Come."
I then grab her hand and drag her 50 meters further to the end of the practice field, where the bright blue, red and white target is.
With her blue bow in her hands, she walks ahead to examine our arrows meticulously. The period of silence is suddenly cut short. Realizing her big accomplishment, she immediately begins to dance and vocalize made up lyrics while swinging her arms in the air. Even though I am envying her perfect shot, I can't help myself but laugh at her craziness. We may be complete opposites but I think that there is some yin yang involved somewhere, because we're best friends.

***

Like every other day when I practice on the targets with Emma by my side, time flies and with my watch indicating 5:52 pm, I know that it is time to call it a day. I begin to put together my equipment and place my precious bow in its bag while Emma does the same. The practice field that we use isn't at its finest, the grass is only cut once in a while and the ground is a bit sketchy. But despite that, it is a very beautiful vast property that is encircled with aged pine trees. It is also the only outdoor practice spot for archery in Portland. I take two or three refreshing gulps of water from my bottle and then follow Emma who is now bouncing in front of me in her agitated, yet usual pace back to the Portland's archery admission building. Without talking about her tiny childish size, Emma is always full of energy. In conclusion, it makes it hard to believe that she is 17 years old. We walk in and I open my locker and quickly pull my sweater and my tiny purse out. I make sure my archery gear is well locked and look back at my watch; 6:02 pm.
"Yikes, Em I'm already late for work, gotta go!" I shout while pulling my sweater over my head.
"Oh, alright, see ya!" she calls back while I am already running out the door. I grab my helmet, hop on my bicycle and I'm off speeding to Samy's Candy Store only two blocks away, thankfully.

***

It is with 10 minutes late that I enter the colored lollypop shaped store with an exhausted gasp from pedaling as quickly as I could. Founded by Samy Fundel, the store has been in business since the late 70s, I think. The structure and the merchandise sold have mostly stayed the same with time, which is why Samy's Candy Store is more popular than ever. I can barely open the ringing door and make it two steps on the "Welcome" carpet before I hear my name shouted in a discernible high pitch voice:
"Mayumi Hopkins!" I regretfully turn around to face Danielle, a midle-aged genereously curved woman with big colourful cheeks and short red hair pointing to the ceiling. Wearing an apron, my noticeable boss quickly walks from the counter to meet me. She is the type of person with a golden heart who wears a wide smile all the time. To my deceit, she is now looking me in the eyes with a straight face. I swallow nervously, louder than what I hoped.
"You are late and it isn't the first time, Mayumi. What am I going to do with you?" She is the only person I know who calls me by my full name.
"I...well..." I try to apologize.
"Look, look" she cuts. "You are a wonderful young woman, full of talent and you have what it takes to work here as a cashier since the day you applied for the job. I also promised your father from day one that I will always look after you and that will never change. So this is why I feel like I should warn you that you have a place here but under one condition: You have to be on time. Have I made myself clear Mayumi?"
"Yes... I'm sorry." I shyly answer while looking at the black and white tiles on the floor.
"Great! Now get to work!" Her generous smile suddenly appears, forcing my lips to bend in a nervous smile. Danielle Gates is a powerful woman and you better want to be on her good side. Turning her head over, she sees a customer at the counter and quickly walks in that direction. As if she suddenly remembers something, she stops and turns around, her green eyes squeezed into a solved facial expression.
"How is training?" She knows why I keep coming late, of course.
"Well, uh, I'm doing ok. The competition is in exactly two weeks."
"Very good. I'll be there to encourage you." And then she adds timidly:
"And say hi to your dad." Then she returns to the counter to meet the customer, probably taking that moment to hide her cheeks, both red as a candy apple. To my astonishment, this strong woman transforms into a teenager who just discovered love everytime my dad is mentioned. Since the day that I've had been interviewed for this job, 2 years ago, it's been quite obvious how Danielle is turning around father (who by the way, seems to be completely blind).
Even tough it is quite amusing to see at times, I am not quite sure how to feel about them to being together, if that ever happens (my dad realising her presence would be a good start perhaps). My dad has been a widow for 17 years now since my mom passed in a tragic car accident while on her way to work one morning. I don't remember a thing for the obvious reason that I was a newborn during that period of time.
The ringing door bell quickly and reminds me that I am paid for a reason here. I immediately run to the counter and place my nametag on my t-shirt while another customer arrives to buy a bag of Smarties and Gummy Bears.

***

The sun slowly hides behind the passing bushy trees while I’m pedaling back home. I hope that father thought of preparing for diner. I can already imagine a big plate of cooked lobster and feel the taste in my mouth, yummy! I swiftly check my watch and just because of that, my stomach growls: 7:05! Lobster would sound really good, indeed. My feet are now augmenting the speed, creating a grim sound coming out of my aged European city bicycle. Quickly passing by familiar buildings, I discern workers carrying a massive couch and living room appliances into a small home that was previously resided by Rose-Anne, a heartwarming elderly lady who just died last month. The details of her passing are unknown to me but her house was unoccupied until now. I spot the "FOR SALE" sign but it is now topped with "SOLD" lettering.

***

I reach my neighborhood a few minutes later heavily panting but without slowing down my speedy cycling. I spot my small pearly house at the end of the road and Rufus, my white German shepherd, who identifies me right away. His ears are swinging on the top of his head while he enthusiastically meets me halfway on the sidewalk. A sentiment of hilarity gains me every single time his snowy fur muzzles against my thigh and his humid tongue licks my fingers and cheeks while I snuggle his large face. Walking ahead with my bicycle on my right hip and Rufus loyally following behind, I pass our mailbox decorated with artificial flowers and birds with ''Hopkins'', painted in fat blue letters on one side and a pink heart poorly drawn on the other side. My dad and I had the idea to decorate the rusty metallic mailbox when I was four years old and it stayed that way since that day. I spent most of my childhood alone with him, he always was my only family and he needed me too. I remember being lifted that special day by his strong hands so that I could reach the mailbox for a final touch, thinking for a few seconds and then I immediately painted that pink heart with a paintbrush.
''This is very beautiful sweetie! You could be an artist one day.'' He took my paintbrush and drew a dot on my nose and I remember that it made me laugh.
''Thanks daddy, this is for mommy so that she can see it from heaven and know that we love her.'' And in my childish mind, I didn't know why my dad seemed so sad once I mentioned my mom.
''I'm sure... that she will like it.'' He finally answered to the sidewalk. Lifting his head up, he then tried to fake a smile for me. But even at my very young age, I felt that he was carrying too much of that pain in his chest for too long.

***

Thirteen years have now gone by and I am not an artist, nor a good drawer. We still live in the same small house in that same neighborhood but things have changed, slowly breaking down. At the second that I open the door, Rufus makes his entrance into our house while I follow him to the kitchen for his daily treat. The house remains unchanged since my birth: The same old bittersweet couch in the living room, placed in front of the TV. The same torn carpet under my feet. But this is home for me; I’ve grown up between these embracing beige walls. Every year, my annual school picture is hung on the wall connecting the living room to the kitchen, to my irritation. UntiI was 9 years old, I insisted to hold my teddy bear ‘’Dusty’’ everywhere I went and that included during school pictures or I would cry unstoppably until I was holding Dusty tightly again. I can now say that I’m embarrassed by these pictures and I still have the reputation of ‘’the girl with her teddy bear’’ at school. I usually have no problems with the ‘’popular’’ kids but I’ve been with these loud mouth jocks since Pre-School. They also occasionally yell a few racist asian jokes when I’m around but I just ignore them while Emma has my back without fail. In these moments, she is quite a source of entertainment for me and a fine warning for them. I stare once more at the pictures on the wall: In grade 1, my it was taken while I had 2 black ponytails hanging unevenly on my shoulders, a straight bang covering my eyebrows and I wore a cute amber dress stained with a little mud and grass marks. Yes, I did look ridiculous way back. In the following shots, my slant-eyes are red from sobbing and an uncomfortable smile covers my face. Still, dad contently pin them on the wall each year. The most recent picture was taken a month ago, I am wearing plain clothes, my hair is hanging on my shoulders and I am giving a small smirk to the camera to get it over with. I guess that I was never really photogenic.

***

Face against the dining table, the hard working author, Victor Hopkins, is deeply asleep. Again. With the years, my dad has been closing himself to others, including me and slowly transformed into laptop starring zombie. Well, not quite, I shouldn’t say that but he spends more time writing than anything else. Our relationship is summed up by our typical routine of saying ‘’Hi’’ and then ‘’See you later’’ during the day. I remember a time when my father was strong, very active, humorous and talkative. He used to ask me what I learned that day at school and cheer me up when I needed it or wiped my tears when I got hurt. Only a few counts of gray hair garnished his thick brown hair on the top of his head and he went for a jog every morning to stay fit. Now, he is only the ghost of what he once was; Most of his hair is shaded and gone, leaving a bald spot on the top of his head. He is pale from the lack of sun and he isn’t in shape like he used to be. Plus, my dad had lots of friends back then when he was a successful author. But with the years following mom’s death, the phone calls became rare, such as the visits. I sigh and open the fridge in a last glimpse of hope; but from what I regretfully see, there won’t be any lobster for tonight. Or anything else, unless I would like to snack on fish leftovers, they are probably passed the due date anyways. A sound captures me attention and when I turn I see Rufus standing up with his front legs on the counter. Obviously tired of waiting, he tries to grab the bag dog treats by himself, which was a bad idea.
‘’Ruf…’’
And before I could intervene, the treats flew into the air, succeeded by a surprised Rufus and a bowl. BANG! The result; a big mess of dog food on the floor, a spooked ball of fur and a grumpy dad awakened.
‘’You got to be kidding! What happened?’’ Dad asks in an obvious irritated tone.
I can’t help but clench my jaw tight at the sight of his intimidating eyes pointing at my pet. In fault, my dog is rolled in a protective ball, for what seems like an attempt to make himself as small as possible. His snowy ears are pulled back while he stares at us, in total guilt. I try to reassure my pet with eye contact but I know what is about to follow.
‘’Bad dog! Bad Rufus!’’ screeches my dad in a loud irritating tone while pointing at the messy kitchen floor.
Poor Rufus, I’m sure that if he could disappear completely, he would by now. The punisher takes a few steps ahead to the misconduct and raises his arms to point the living room for my dog to go. Rufus doesn’t wait a second and quickly walks to his spot next to the couch with his tail between his legs. I know that dad is now staring at me with his laser eyes so I turn around to meet face to face. I notice the purple spots under his tired eyes, the neglect of shaving by a centimetre or two of gray facial hair sticking out of his chin. The so-so clean clothes that he is wearing are just another sign that proves that he hasn’t slept a full night nor went out for a very long time.
‘’You couldn’t just simply watch him? Is it THAT hard May?’’ he lifts his arms in agitation.
‘’I did dad! I just didn’t have the t…’’
‘’Excuses! I don’t think that we should’ve bought that dog in the first place.’’
It’s the second time that I’ve been cut off today. And he won’t take Rufus away from me!
‘’That’s not fair! It was an accident!’’ I try to explain.
‘’When we first brought him home, 3 years ago, you’ve been spoiling him way too much. I was fine with that at first but now it has been enough! No wonder that he’s always begging for food and sleeps on the couch!’’ his tone rising up.
‘’Well at least he enjoys my company, unlike you!’’ I shout.
I am not sure if I regret of saying that.
‘’May… This is not the truth, you know that.’’ He replicates with guilt taking place on his face. But that doesn’t stop me from saying one last thing.
‘’Well it sure feels like it. Every day, you just type on your computer and type again. The groceries haven’t been done since 2 weeks ago and I bet you didn’t even know that my archery competition is heading up soon. Anyway, I’m gone studying.’’
‘’May, I…’’ But I’m already walking up the stairs.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think! This should be the complete idea of my first chapter. Critical reviewing welcome!

Reviews

[Joe_VILOT_]

brilliant just brilliant so so funny

made me think of hunger games at first yet when it went to the part about work i realized it was more than that phew glad of that.

caught me by surprise with the candy store twist hah hah ok ill go with that so th verdict

flawless 75557755/75557755

[Dandelion]

Thank you! There is much more to come soon.

[SquinklaPsyOps]

It does make me want to read the book, which is the purpose.

[Dandelion]

I am very happy to hear that, thanks!