Hey everyone.
Just want you all to know that, if you are familiar with this website, I have set up an account on www.fictionpress.com under the name of Fire Of The Phoenix. Just something I thought I would let you guys know.
Also, I know that I haven't been posting in a few weeks, but with my homework, classes, my job, and trying to maintain some kind of social life, my writing has kind of taken a back burner right now. I am sorry about the wait and I wish it wasn't so busy, but life comes first. I hope you all understand :) Anyways, hope you are all well!
Wild Cat
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Taken Away Chapter 2
“What do you think she’s going to be like?” Bethany Christenson asked her older sister Olivia.
“From how she’s grown up as a billion dollar child, probably a stuck up snob,” Olivia answered, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice.
“Give her a chance, Liv,” Arabella Davenport said. Olivia didn’t reply. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a response, but she didn’t want them knowing why she’s hated her little sister for almost her whole life.
“I can’t believe how much we look alike, aside from her dyed hair, of course,” Bethany said, practically vibrating in the backseat of Arabella’s car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. It was three o’clock and Arabella said she’d pick up Olivia, her best friend, from the University with Bethany from school. Arabella was a senior in high school and have been best friends with Olivia since they could walk. They met in daycare and haven’t separated since. Even with Olivia in college, they hang out whenever possible which was almost every day since Arabella practically lived at the Christenson’s home. Olivia usually drives herself home, but her car is in the auto shop getting fixed after breaking down for the third time in six months. She was soon going to have to get rid of it and that troubled her greatly.
“Do you think—” Bethany started.
“Stop with the ‘do you think!’” Olivia growled. “You’ll meet her in ten minutes so chill out!”
“Like you have the right to lecture me about chilling,” Bethany said, glaring at her eldest sister.
“Both of you chill out!” Arabella barked, glaring at the road since she couldn’t glare at the sisters. “You’re not doing any good snapping at each other. If you’re nervous, how do you think she feels? She just found out her entire life was a lie! She had to abandon everything she’s ever known to live with complete strangers; a family she never even knew existed. Her parents die than four years later, she finds out she was kidnapped as a baby and everything she’s ever known was at the expense of a family’s pain. Olivia, I don’t know what your problem with her is, but keep a lid on it while you’re around her. Bethany, she may seem exciting to you, but don’t hover and ask a million questions I know you have for her. Give her space so she can get used to what’s happened to her.”
Both girls were dumbfounded by Arabella’s speech.
“You’re right,” Bethany said, feeling guilty.
“You two just need to calm down. I know this is bigger than anything you guys have been through, but handling like you are now is going to make it a disaster,” Arabella replied. “Liv, even if you’ve pre-judged her and don’t want to make an attempt to get to know her, try to be civil to her for Alyson.
Olivia remained silent, knowing but not wanting to admit that her best friend was right.
“Thanks Ari,” Bethany said sincerely. She knew she needed that; they both did.
“No problem. You guys know I’m always here to set you right when you’re being less than intelligent,” Arabella said with a warm, genuine smile.
“Oh, and who puts you in your place when you’re wrong?” Bethany asked, raising an eyebrow. Arabella flashed her a cocky smile in the backseat.
“No one, because I’m never wrong,” she stated arrogantly, her eyes alight with amusement. Olivia scoffed loudly, which made the other two girls laugh.
They pulled into the Christenson driveway two minutes later.
“Tells me what happens later tonight,” Arabella said to Olivia, who muttered a “later” and exited the car. Her younger sister was about to leave, but the driver stopped her. “Beth?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me what really happens tomorrow in school. You know Liv can be a little over dramatic sometimes,” she said. Bethany smiled.
“No problem, Ari.”
“Remember, questions to a minimum.”
“Promise,” the fifteen year old replied. “Bye.”
Bethany went inside to find her eldest sister and her mother talking.
“Hey, Bethany,” Alyson greeted her third child.
“Hey mom,” the girl said, hugging her.
“She’s upstairs?” Olivia said, her curious tone betraying her determination to appear nonchalant.
“Yes, she’s unpacking.”
“What’s she like?” Bethany asked, looking as if she were about to start bouncing on the balls of her feet. Alyson sighed and looked up the stairs.
“She’s...not what I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...with how she found out about us and us about her—”
“By getting arrested for breaking and entering and vandalism,” Olivia snorted with a frown. “Sounds like a great kid.”
“I admit I thought I was going to have some problems, such as behavior. However, she’s very polite, laid back, and outgoing. She’s very aware of how I feel about this situation and she assured me of many things.”
“What do you mean assured you?” Bethany asked.
“She said that I can ask her about her life because she would be insulted if I didn’t want to know. I thought she was going to be closed off because of who we are; a family who took her away from her home,” Alyson replied.
“Huh...maybe she’s not as big a brat as I thought she was,” Olivia admitted.
“Olivia Lynn, you will not speak like that in front of her,” Alyson scolded the nineteen year old.
“Don’t worry mom, Ari already read us the riot act in the car. I’ll behave,” the eldest child said.
“Good, at least someone is thinking about Blake’s feelings.”
“Can we go meet her now?” Bethany said, thinking that the argument was pointless and stupid.
“Yes, let’s go,” Olivia said with mock enthusiasm.
The three women walked up the stairs only to hear a thumping bass and the sound of hip hop greet them. Olivia recognized the artist.
“Great, she’s an Eminem fan,” she said with disgust. Alyson cleared her throat and knocked on the door. They waited for a minute, then Alyson tried again.
“She probably can’t hear it,” Bethany said.
“Who could?” her eldest sister asked with a slight sneer. Alyson hesitated, then grabbed the door handle and turned it, opening the door just barely. She peeked in and saw Blake hanging a poster of a rock band called Avenged Sevenfold on her wall.
Olivia and Bethany gasped when they entered the room. It wasn’t that it looked that different, but what was in it definitely was. An extremely state-of-the-art, very expensive looking stereo standing against a wall. Next to it were six guitars, one acoustic, another a double neck flying V, the rest various other electric guitars, all of them looking very costly. On the other side of the room were two computers, both laptops. One was, if one could call it, a normal laptop. It was looked like a high end and all three of the Christenson’s knew it probably cost more than any of them have ever spent in one place. The other laptop was...different? they all thought. It’s screen was larger than normal laptops and, instead of a regular keyboard, it had multicolored keys and about twice as many. On the walls were an assortment of posters, but also, to their surprise, two guitars mounted on the wall. The posters, however, were of two different types. One was of artists such as Eminem but also rock bands such as Avenged Sevenfold as from before, but also the Columbia singer/dancer Shakira in a revealing bikini on a beach and looking very suggestive. The second type were of cars. Sports cars, SUVs, supercars, motorcycles and almost all of them had half naked women on or by the vehicle like a male’s car calendar.
Other personal belongings were placed around the room and almost all of Blake’s clothes were in the closet or dresser. Blake turned around after she finished her placing her poster on her wall and looked slightly surprised. She grabbed a remote and paused her music.
“Sorry about that,” she said. She approached her biological family with her head high and shoulders square. She saw the ones who were her sisters and mentally took a deep breath.
Olivia was taller than her and her build was almost lanky. She had dark brown hair to the bottom of her ears with it very wavy; it looked natural to Blake. She had sea green eyes and sharp facial features. If Blake hadn’t known better, she wouldn’t have any idea that they were even related, unlike Bethany. Blake almost gasped when she saw her younger sister. She was almost a clone of the middle child, only few years younger. Same hair color (minus Blake’s artificial addition in her own). They could have easily passed for twins to an unknowing eye. However, the thing that Blake was both fascinated and also found a little creepy about were her eyes. They were the exact duplicates to Blake’s; a very beautiful, hypnotizing, striking emerald green eyes. It was easily both of the girls best physical feature. Blake had to do a mental head shake to get her bearings.
“I’m Blake Harris,” the middle child said with a smile. The oldest looked as if she had only just bit her tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark, one that Blake could see it in her eyes. What the hell is her problem? she wondered.
“Olivia Christenson,” the older girl said, her voice sounded like she was forcing herself to speak with Blake, who was becoming more confused by the minute. She’s said three words to the college student. What’s with the hostility?
“Bethany Christenson!” said the fifteen year old. Blake looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. This girl was practically bouncing with excitement.
“Nice to meet you,” Blake said.
“You have a really sweet stereo,” the younger girl said, looking at the music playing device with a mixture of awe and envy.
“Thanks,” Blake said with a smile. Her stereo was an RCA bookshelf that was on a small, hand painted green bookshelf she found in the closet. Next to the bookshelf on both sides were two Mirage OS3-FS floor standing speakers with the grille taken off. “It docks an iPod and has a 5 CD changer with AM/FM radio.”
“That’s awesome!” the girl said with a wide smile. Blake stopped herself from laughing.
“Calm down, Bethany. It’s just a stereo,” Olivia scolded her younger sister, who shot her a glare. Blake held back from giving her one of her own. The older girl was not getting on Blake’s good side and that wasn’t good for anyone in the house.
“You’ve done a lot in only an hour,” Alyson said, trying to get rid of the sudden tension in the room. Blake shrugged and looked around the room.
“The only thing that took a while was unpacking my clothes. Didn’t realize how much I have until I opened three suitcases of them,” she answered.
“Three suitcases? Can I—I mean—never mind,” Bethany said. Blake chuckled, knowing what she was asking.
“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” she replied. Bethany let out a small squeal of excitement and dove into the closet.
“Bethany Christine,” Alyson said sternly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Blake assured the mother. “I really don’t mind.”
“She should know better than to ask to dig through someone’s clothes.”
Blake shrugged. She was confused, however. Aren’t sisters supposed to share and go through each other’s clothes, borrowing them with or without permission? She decided not to ask and went to the closet, where Bethany was holding up a deep purple tank top.
“Cute!” Bethany said with a smile. Blake wondered if she had a permanent one fixed on her face and returned the action.
“You like it?”
“Purple is my favorite color,” Bethany replied, holding up the top to her torso. The house phone decided to ring then and Alyson excused herself to answer it.
“Try it on,” the seventeen year old said. “See if it fits.”
Bethany’s smile widened and she took off her tee shirt to put on said tank top.
“How does it look?” she asked.
“Perfect. Purple looks great on you,” Blake complimented and then seriously worried if the younger girls’ face was going to break with her huge smile.
“Cut out the creepy happy face, Bethany. You’re grinning like an idiot,” Olivia said, almost looking disgusted at her sister’s display of ecstasy. Bethany only stuck her tongue out and looked at herself in Blake’s mirror.
“You like it?” Blake asked, ignoring Olivia’s comment, although she was really getting on her nerves.
“Yes, it’s majorly cute,” she answered, beaming. Blake laughed.
“Well, I have more clothes than I think is legally allowed. You can borrow anything anytime you want. Just let me know ahead of time.”
“For real?” her younger sister asked in disbelief. The teenage guitarist shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Score. Thank you!” she cried, then quickly hugged Blake, much to the surprise of the older girl, who kind of stood there, unsure of how to respond. She awkwardly patted Bethany’s back.
“No problem, kiddo,” she muttered.
“Let her go, Bethany! You just met her,” Olivia said, now glaring daggers at Blake openly, which ignited Blake’s anger. However, she forced herself to calm down, not wanting to start a fight. What is with this girl, anyways? she asked herself.
Bethany went red and extracted herself from Blake with an embarrassed smile.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll let you finish unpacking,” the fifteen year old said, remembering what Arabella said.
Olivia left the room without another word, with Bethany following her, who smiled at her again before shutting the door. Blake sighed audibly and fell onto her bed. She tried hard to not think about her older sister and whatever problem she had with Blake. After a minute of glaring at the ceiling, Blake stood and went to finish unpacking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blake went down stairs after she was finished emptying her suitcases. She was in search for her biological mother and found her in the kitchen. It was about five o’clock at night and she was starting dinner. Blake cleared her throat to get Alyson’s attention, still unsure with how to address the older woman. She felt that calling her real mother by her first name would insult her, but Blake knew she wouldn’t being calling her “mom” any time soon. It would be too weird. Alyson turned to look at Blake and smiled.
“Hey Blake,” she said.
“Hey,” the teenager replied. “I, er, finished unpacking and I need someplace to put my suitcases. There’s a lot of them and there’s no room left for them upstairs.”
“Oh, you can bring them down stairs and just kind of throw them anywhere. You can put them under the stairs. It’s not really being used for anything,” the woman instructed.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help?”
“No thanks, I got it,” the green eyed girl answered, then turned to go back up stairs.
After about twelve trips, Blake had all of her suitcases in the basement and was currently laying on her bed, a hand behind her head.
“Now what?” she asked herself quietly. She decided to play guitar until dinner was ready. She grabbed her red and black Dean Dimebag Darrell USA Razorback V and then went to work on her laptop—the one that Alyson was wondering about. Blake turned it on and, once the main screen was loaded. She double clicked on a music note icon, a program that was called “Composer.” Blake then grabbed her iPod and USB chord/sync and connected it to her black iPod Classic and to the laptop.
Immediately, a list of all the songs on her iPod appeared on the empty window screen. With a few double clicks of her wireless mouse, Blake found the playlist she wanted. She then stood up from her sitting position on the bed and grabbed a few things from her closet, which was where she kept her three amplifiers, and took out a long chord. She put it into the input of her guitar and then to the amplifier, setting the volume to five. She strummed all six strings, the sound perfectly tuned and resonated throughout the room. Blake then set up her microphone and set the volume so only someone who was in the room could hear her singing. The last thing she did before going to her laptop was connect one more chord from her amplifier to her laptop.
When she sat back down at her computer, Blake went to options and chose to have the lead guitar and lead vocals would be left out of the song while it played through the amplifier. She scrolled through the playlist, trying to decide what she wanted to play first. She found one and smiled as she double clicked on the song. She stood up and heard the five clicks of a pendulum fill the room from the speaker of her amplifier. After the last click, Blake began playing the song “Burn It Down” by Avenged Sevenfold, her all time favorite rock band. She played the lead guitar that is originally played by Synyster Gates of the band, a guitarist who was one of her musical heroes in that specific genre, which is metal. One of her favorite things to do is have a “duel” with someone who is as good at the guitar as she is. Play the same piece, one right after the other, just like Synyster Gates does with Zacky Vengeance (the other guitarist in Avenged Sevenfold) in many songs.
The beginning of the song, which was a fast paced instrumental piece, lasted about twenty seconds until Blake stepped up to the microphone to begin singing. Blake’s singing voice, before she turned fourteen, was high and at the very normal level for girls her age, even though she was a much better singing than most girls. However, after fourteen, her voice changed to a deeper, ashy pitch. This allowed her to sing songs at a lower octave, such as the song Burn It Down; she was able to almost perfectly match M. Shadows, the lead singer of the teenager’s favorite band.
This was one of Blake’s favorite songs to play by this band just because she loved the fast, high pitched, complicated sounding shredding of a guitar, which this song provided her very nicely. Although the solo wasn’t as long as she wanted it to be, she enjoyed the song nonetheless.
Blake finished out the song with a smile on her face. Music was the only thing in Blake’s existence that she was truly passionate about. Everything about her was music and there was nothing else in the world that gave her the kind of bliss that music did; not even cars, which was Blake’s other passion in life. She was extremely knowledgeable in both areas; although she cares about music much more deeply than cars.
The teenager guitarist went to her computer and chose which song to play next. She smiled at the one she found; Back in Black by AC/DC.
“A classic,” she whispered. She double clicked and waited for the five clicks to stop.
~~~~~~~~
“No, not again!” moaned Olivia, covering her ears and putting her head on the dining room table.
“Why do you say that? She’s incredible!” Bethany said. They were sitting in the dining room down stairs. Olivia was on her computer while her younger sister was reading a book.
“This music is horrible,” the nineteen year old replied.
“This is AC/DC. How can you not like them?” Bethany asked her incredulously.
“What about the song before this one?”
“Didn’t you hear the guitar? It was amazing. She’s incredibly talented.”
“She’s been playing since she was five,” Alyson said as she walked around the kitchen making chili, as per Bethany’s request. “She told me she has over twenty collectable guitars at her home in Detroit and she owns a total of eight guitars that she plays.”
“Collectable guitars are incredibly expensive. Owning over twenty would cost thousands of dollars!” Olivia said in disbelief. Alyson and Bethany looked at the other girl, both with an eyebrow raised.
“Liv...are you forgetting that she’s inherited almost half of the world’s auto making industry? And that she’s worth a few billion of dollars?” Alyson asked. Olivia frowned; obviously she had a momentary memory lapse.
“I’m pretty sure a few thousand dollars to her is like a couple dollars to us,” Bethany said.
“Still, she could be spending her money on something more productive than guitars. Like charity or giving it to the Church,” Olivia replied.
“How do you know she doesn’t give to charity?” Bethany asked. Olivia scowled.
“She has a right to spend her money however she wants. Besides, she can’t take all of her money and give it to charity. If she has a hobby she loves, then she should be able to spend money on it, just like everybody else. Also, she isn’t religious,” Alyson explained.
“She’s an atheist?” Olivia asked exasperatedly.
“She never said she didn’t believe in God, but she just told me that she’s never been to church,” Alyson corrected.
“Still,” her oldest daughter said, sighing. “Wait! Maybe I can convert her.”
“Don’t you dare ambush her or pressure her,” Bethany said, scowling at Olivia. “She’s been through enough; she doesn’t need some Jesus freak harassing her.”
“I wouldn’t ever ambush anyone; that’s wrong. But what’s the matter with trying to show someone the glory of God’s love?” Olivia asked.
“Nothing, unless you’re trying to force it onto someone who doesn’t want it.”
“That’s enough you two. Olivia, let her get settled in before you ask her to church. I don’t want her to feel like we’re alienating her or trying to change who she is.”
“From what I’ve read about her, she needs some changing,” Olivia muttered.
“Olivia Lynn, don’t you ever let me catch you saying something like that again,” Alyson scolded, looking very upset. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read about in the papers; not to mention that she is your sister. You accept her for who she is, even if you don’t agree with it.”
Olivia wisely kept her mouth shut, even though she desperately wanted to say something in return.
“Now, will you two please behave for dinner. We need her to feel as comfortable as possible in this house. You wouldn’t want to upset her, especially on her first night here,” Alyson said, her tone was final and neither of her daughters replied. She continued making dinner.
Blake was just putting her guitar away forty five minutes later when she heard a knock on her door. She called for the person to come in and saw, to her annoyance, that it was Olivia.
“Dinner is ready,” the eldest Christenson said stiffly, but Blake could see the irritation in her sister’s eyes, as if it were a major chore to tell Blake it was time to eat.
“Thanks, I’ll be down in a second,” Blake replied. Olivia didn’t say anything as she turned to leave. Blake took a deep breath and went to the bathroom to wash her hands.
“From how she’s grown up as a billion dollar child, probably a stuck up snob,” Olivia answered, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice.
“Give her a chance, Liv,” Arabella Davenport said. Olivia didn’t reply. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a response, but she didn’t want them knowing why she’s hated her little sister for almost her whole life.
“I can’t believe how much we look alike, aside from her dyed hair, of course,” Bethany said, practically vibrating in the backseat of Arabella’s car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. It was three o’clock and Arabella said she’d pick up Olivia, her best friend, from the University with Bethany from school. Arabella was a senior in high school and have been best friends with Olivia since they could walk. They met in daycare and haven’t separated since. Even with Olivia in college, they hang out whenever possible which was almost every day since Arabella practically lived at the Christenson’s home. Olivia usually drives herself home, but her car is in the auto shop getting fixed after breaking down for the third time in six months. She was soon going to have to get rid of it and that troubled her greatly.
“Do you think—” Bethany started.
“Stop with the ‘do you think!’” Olivia growled. “You’ll meet her in ten minutes so chill out!”
“Like you have the right to lecture me about chilling,” Bethany said, glaring at her eldest sister.
“Both of you chill out!” Arabella barked, glaring at the road since she couldn’t glare at the sisters. “You’re not doing any good snapping at each other. If you’re nervous, how do you think she feels? She just found out her entire life was a lie! She had to abandon everything she’s ever known to live with complete strangers; a family she never even knew existed. Her parents die than four years later, she finds out she was kidnapped as a baby and everything she’s ever known was at the expense of a family’s pain. Olivia, I don’t know what your problem with her is, but keep a lid on it while you’re around her. Bethany, she may seem exciting to you, but don’t hover and ask a million questions I know you have for her. Give her space so she can get used to what’s happened to her.”
Both girls were dumbfounded by Arabella’s speech.
“You’re right,” Bethany said, feeling guilty.
“You two just need to calm down. I know this is bigger than anything you guys have been through, but handling like you are now is going to make it a disaster,” Arabella replied. “Liv, even if you’ve pre-judged her and don’t want to make an attempt to get to know her, try to be civil to her for Alyson.
Olivia remained silent, knowing but not wanting to admit that her best friend was right.
“Thanks Ari,” Bethany said sincerely. She knew she needed that; they both did.
“No problem. You guys know I’m always here to set you right when you’re being less than intelligent,” Arabella said with a warm, genuine smile.
“Oh, and who puts you in your place when you’re wrong?” Bethany asked, raising an eyebrow. Arabella flashed her a cocky smile in the backseat.
“No one, because I’m never wrong,” she stated arrogantly, her eyes alight with amusement. Olivia scoffed loudly, which made the other two girls laugh.
They pulled into the Christenson driveway two minutes later.
“Tells me what happens later tonight,” Arabella said to Olivia, who muttered a “later” and exited the car. Her younger sister was about to leave, but the driver stopped her. “Beth?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me what really happens tomorrow in school. You know Liv can be a little over dramatic sometimes,” she said. Bethany smiled.
“No problem, Ari.”
“Remember, questions to a minimum.”
“Promise,” the fifteen year old replied. “Bye.”
Bethany went inside to find her eldest sister and her mother talking.
“Hey, Bethany,” Alyson greeted her third child.
“Hey mom,” the girl said, hugging her.
“She’s upstairs?” Olivia said, her curious tone betraying her determination to appear nonchalant.
“Yes, she’s unpacking.”
“What’s she like?” Bethany asked, looking as if she were about to start bouncing on the balls of her feet. Alyson sighed and looked up the stairs.
“She’s...not what I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...with how she found out about us and us about her—”
“By getting arrested for breaking and entering and vandalism,” Olivia snorted with a frown. “Sounds like a great kid.”
“I admit I thought I was going to have some problems, such as behavior. However, she’s very polite, laid back, and outgoing. She’s very aware of how I feel about this situation and she assured me of many things.”
“What do you mean assured you?” Bethany asked.
“She said that I can ask her about her life because she would be insulted if I didn’t want to know. I thought she was going to be closed off because of who we are; a family who took her away from her home,” Alyson replied.
“Huh...maybe she’s not as big a brat as I thought she was,” Olivia admitted.
“Olivia Lynn, you will not speak like that in front of her,” Alyson scolded the nineteen year old.
“Don’t worry mom, Ari already read us the riot act in the car. I’ll behave,” the eldest child said.
“Good, at least someone is thinking about Blake’s feelings.”
“Can we go meet her now?” Bethany said, thinking that the argument was pointless and stupid.
“Yes, let’s go,” Olivia said with mock enthusiasm.
The three women walked up the stairs only to hear a thumping bass and the sound of hip hop greet them. Olivia recognized the artist.
“Great, she’s an Eminem fan,” she said with disgust. Alyson cleared her throat and knocked on the door. They waited for a minute, then Alyson tried again.
“She probably can’t hear it,” Bethany said.
“Who could?” her eldest sister asked with a slight sneer. Alyson hesitated, then grabbed the door handle and turned it, opening the door just barely. She peeked in and saw Blake hanging a poster of a rock band called Avenged Sevenfold on her wall.
Olivia and Bethany gasped when they entered the room. It wasn’t that it looked that different, but what was in it definitely was. An extremely state-of-the-art, very expensive looking stereo standing against a wall. Next to it were six guitars, one acoustic, another a double neck flying V, the rest various other electric guitars, all of them looking very costly. On the other side of the room were two computers, both laptops. One was, if one could call it, a normal laptop. It was looked like a high end and all three of the Christenson’s knew it probably cost more than any of them have ever spent in one place. The other laptop was...different? they all thought. It’s screen was larger than normal laptops and, instead of a regular keyboard, it had multicolored keys and about twice as many. On the walls were an assortment of posters, but also, to their surprise, two guitars mounted on the wall. The posters, however, were of two different types. One was of artists such as Eminem but also rock bands such as Avenged Sevenfold as from before, but also the Columbia singer/dancer Shakira in a revealing bikini on a beach and looking very suggestive. The second type were of cars. Sports cars, SUVs, supercars, motorcycles and almost all of them had half naked women on or by the vehicle like a male’s car calendar.
Other personal belongings were placed around the room and almost all of Blake’s clothes were in the closet or dresser. Blake turned around after she finished her placing her poster on her wall and looked slightly surprised. She grabbed a remote and paused her music.
“Sorry about that,” she said. She approached her biological family with her head high and shoulders square. She saw the ones who were her sisters and mentally took a deep breath.
Olivia was taller than her and her build was almost lanky. She had dark brown hair to the bottom of her ears with it very wavy; it looked natural to Blake. She had sea green eyes and sharp facial features. If Blake hadn’t known better, she wouldn’t have any idea that they were even related, unlike Bethany. Blake almost gasped when she saw her younger sister. She was almost a clone of the middle child, only few years younger. Same hair color (minus Blake’s artificial addition in her own). They could have easily passed for twins to an unknowing eye. However, the thing that Blake was both fascinated and also found a little creepy about were her eyes. They were the exact duplicates to Blake’s; a very beautiful, hypnotizing, striking emerald green eyes. It was easily both of the girls best physical feature. Blake had to do a mental head shake to get her bearings.
“I’m Blake Harris,” the middle child said with a smile. The oldest looked as if she had only just bit her tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark, one that Blake could see it in her eyes. What the hell is her problem? she wondered.
“Olivia Christenson,” the older girl said, her voice sounded like she was forcing herself to speak with Blake, who was becoming more confused by the minute. She’s said three words to the college student. What’s with the hostility?
“Bethany Christenson!” said the fifteen year old. Blake looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. This girl was practically bouncing with excitement.
“Nice to meet you,” Blake said.
“You have a really sweet stereo,” the younger girl said, looking at the music playing device with a mixture of awe and envy.
“Thanks,” Blake said with a smile. Her stereo was an RCA bookshelf that was on a small, hand painted green bookshelf she found in the closet. Next to the bookshelf on both sides were two Mirage OS3-FS floor standing speakers with the grille taken off. “It docks an iPod and has a 5 CD changer with AM/FM radio.”
“That’s awesome!” the girl said with a wide smile. Blake stopped herself from laughing.
“Calm down, Bethany. It’s just a stereo,” Olivia scolded her younger sister, who shot her a glare. Blake held back from giving her one of her own. The older girl was not getting on Blake’s good side and that wasn’t good for anyone in the house.
“You’ve done a lot in only an hour,” Alyson said, trying to get rid of the sudden tension in the room. Blake shrugged and looked around the room.
“The only thing that took a while was unpacking my clothes. Didn’t realize how much I have until I opened three suitcases of them,” she answered.
“Three suitcases? Can I—I mean—never mind,” Bethany said. Blake chuckled, knowing what she was asking.
“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” she replied. Bethany let out a small squeal of excitement and dove into the closet.
“Bethany Christine,” Alyson said sternly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Blake assured the mother. “I really don’t mind.”
“She should know better than to ask to dig through someone’s clothes.”
Blake shrugged. She was confused, however. Aren’t sisters supposed to share and go through each other’s clothes, borrowing them with or without permission? She decided not to ask and went to the closet, where Bethany was holding up a deep purple tank top.
“Cute!” Bethany said with a smile. Blake wondered if she had a permanent one fixed on her face and returned the action.
“You like it?”
“Purple is my favorite color,” Bethany replied, holding up the top to her torso. The house phone decided to ring then and Alyson excused herself to answer it.
“Try it on,” the seventeen year old said. “See if it fits.”
Bethany’s smile widened and she took off her tee shirt to put on said tank top.
“How does it look?” she asked.
“Perfect. Purple looks great on you,” Blake complimented and then seriously worried if the younger girls’ face was going to break with her huge smile.
“Cut out the creepy happy face, Bethany. You’re grinning like an idiot,” Olivia said, almost looking disgusted at her sister’s display of ecstasy. Bethany only stuck her tongue out and looked at herself in Blake’s mirror.
“You like it?” Blake asked, ignoring Olivia’s comment, although she was really getting on her nerves.
“Yes, it’s majorly cute,” she answered, beaming. Blake laughed.
“Well, I have more clothes than I think is legally allowed. You can borrow anything anytime you want. Just let me know ahead of time.”
“For real?” her younger sister asked in disbelief. The teenage guitarist shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Score. Thank you!” she cried, then quickly hugged Blake, much to the surprise of the older girl, who kind of stood there, unsure of how to respond. She awkwardly patted Bethany’s back.
“No problem, kiddo,” she muttered.
“Let her go, Bethany! You just met her,” Olivia said, now glaring daggers at Blake openly, which ignited Blake’s anger. However, she forced herself to calm down, not wanting to start a fight. What is with this girl, anyways? she asked herself.
Bethany went red and extracted herself from Blake with an embarrassed smile.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll let you finish unpacking,” the fifteen year old said, remembering what Arabella said.
Olivia left the room without another word, with Bethany following her, who smiled at her again before shutting the door. Blake sighed audibly and fell onto her bed. She tried hard to not think about her older sister and whatever problem she had with Blake. After a minute of glaring at the ceiling, Blake stood and went to finish unpacking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blake went down stairs after she was finished emptying her suitcases. She was in search for her biological mother and found her in the kitchen. It was about five o’clock at night and she was starting dinner. Blake cleared her throat to get Alyson’s attention, still unsure with how to address the older woman. She felt that calling her real mother by her first name would insult her, but Blake knew she wouldn’t being calling her “mom” any time soon. It would be too weird. Alyson turned to look at Blake and smiled.
“Hey Blake,” she said.
“Hey,” the teenager replied. “I, er, finished unpacking and I need someplace to put my suitcases. There’s a lot of them and there’s no room left for them upstairs.”
“Oh, you can bring them down stairs and just kind of throw them anywhere. You can put them under the stairs. It’s not really being used for anything,” the woman instructed.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help?”
“No thanks, I got it,” the green eyed girl answered, then turned to go back up stairs.
After about twelve trips, Blake had all of her suitcases in the basement and was currently laying on her bed, a hand behind her head.
“Now what?” she asked herself quietly. She decided to play guitar until dinner was ready. She grabbed her red and black Dean Dimebag Darrell USA Razorback V and then went to work on her laptop—the one that Alyson was wondering about. Blake turned it on and, once the main screen was loaded. She double clicked on a music note icon, a program that was called “Composer.” Blake then grabbed her iPod and USB chord/sync and connected it to her black iPod Classic and to the laptop.
Immediately, a list of all the songs on her iPod appeared on the empty window screen. With a few double clicks of her wireless mouse, Blake found the playlist she wanted. She then stood up from her sitting position on the bed and grabbed a few things from her closet, which was where she kept her three amplifiers, and took out a long chord. She put it into the input of her guitar and then to the amplifier, setting the volume to five. She strummed all six strings, the sound perfectly tuned and resonated throughout the room. Blake then set up her microphone and set the volume so only someone who was in the room could hear her singing. The last thing she did before going to her laptop was connect one more chord from her amplifier to her laptop.
When she sat back down at her computer, Blake went to options and chose to have the lead guitar and lead vocals would be left out of the song while it played through the amplifier. She scrolled through the playlist, trying to decide what she wanted to play first. She found one and smiled as she double clicked on the song. She stood up and heard the five clicks of a pendulum fill the room from the speaker of her amplifier. After the last click, Blake began playing the song “Burn It Down” by Avenged Sevenfold, her all time favorite rock band. She played the lead guitar that is originally played by Synyster Gates of the band, a guitarist who was one of her musical heroes in that specific genre, which is metal. One of her favorite things to do is have a “duel” with someone who is as good at the guitar as she is. Play the same piece, one right after the other, just like Synyster Gates does with Zacky Vengeance (the other guitarist in Avenged Sevenfold) in many songs.
The beginning of the song, which was a fast paced instrumental piece, lasted about twenty seconds until Blake stepped up to the microphone to begin singing. Blake’s singing voice, before she turned fourteen, was high and at the very normal level for girls her age, even though she was a much better singing than most girls. However, after fourteen, her voice changed to a deeper, ashy pitch. This allowed her to sing songs at a lower octave, such as the song Burn It Down; she was able to almost perfectly match M. Shadows, the lead singer of the teenager’s favorite band.
This was one of Blake’s favorite songs to play by this band just because she loved the fast, high pitched, complicated sounding shredding of a guitar, which this song provided her very nicely. Although the solo wasn’t as long as she wanted it to be, she enjoyed the song nonetheless.
Blake finished out the song with a smile on her face. Music was the only thing in Blake’s existence that she was truly passionate about. Everything about her was music and there was nothing else in the world that gave her the kind of bliss that music did; not even cars, which was Blake’s other passion in life. She was extremely knowledgeable in both areas; although she cares about music much more deeply than cars.
The teenager guitarist went to her computer and chose which song to play next. She smiled at the one she found; Back in Black by AC/DC.
“A classic,” she whispered. She double clicked and waited for the five clicks to stop.
~~~~~~~~
“No, not again!” moaned Olivia, covering her ears and putting her head on the dining room table.
“Why do you say that? She’s incredible!” Bethany said. They were sitting in the dining room down stairs. Olivia was on her computer while her younger sister was reading a book.
“This music is horrible,” the nineteen year old replied.
“This is AC/DC. How can you not like them?” Bethany asked her incredulously.
“What about the song before this one?”
“Didn’t you hear the guitar? It was amazing. She’s incredibly talented.”
“She’s been playing since she was five,” Alyson said as she walked around the kitchen making chili, as per Bethany’s request. “She told me she has over twenty collectable guitars at her home in Detroit and she owns a total of eight guitars that she plays.”
“Collectable guitars are incredibly expensive. Owning over twenty would cost thousands of dollars!” Olivia said in disbelief. Alyson and Bethany looked at the other girl, both with an eyebrow raised.
“Liv...are you forgetting that she’s inherited almost half of the world’s auto making industry? And that she’s worth a few billion of dollars?” Alyson asked. Olivia frowned; obviously she had a momentary memory lapse.
“I’m pretty sure a few thousand dollars to her is like a couple dollars to us,” Bethany said.
“Still, she could be spending her money on something more productive than guitars. Like charity or giving it to the Church,” Olivia replied.
“How do you know she doesn’t give to charity?” Bethany asked. Olivia scowled.
“She has a right to spend her money however she wants. Besides, she can’t take all of her money and give it to charity. If she has a hobby she loves, then she should be able to spend money on it, just like everybody else. Also, she isn’t religious,” Alyson explained.
“She’s an atheist?” Olivia asked exasperatedly.
“She never said she didn’t believe in God, but she just told me that she’s never been to church,” Alyson corrected.
“Still,” her oldest daughter said, sighing. “Wait! Maybe I can convert her.”
“Don’t you dare ambush her or pressure her,” Bethany said, scowling at Olivia. “She’s been through enough; she doesn’t need some Jesus freak harassing her.”
“I wouldn’t ever ambush anyone; that’s wrong. But what’s the matter with trying to show someone the glory of God’s love?” Olivia asked.
“Nothing, unless you’re trying to force it onto someone who doesn’t want it.”
“That’s enough you two. Olivia, let her get settled in before you ask her to church. I don’t want her to feel like we’re alienating her or trying to change who she is.”
“From what I’ve read about her, she needs some changing,” Olivia muttered.
“Olivia Lynn, don’t you ever let me catch you saying something like that again,” Alyson scolded, looking very upset. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read about in the papers; not to mention that she is your sister. You accept her for who she is, even if you don’t agree with it.”
Olivia wisely kept her mouth shut, even though she desperately wanted to say something in return.
“Now, will you two please behave for dinner. We need her to feel as comfortable as possible in this house. You wouldn’t want to upset her, especially on her first night here,” Alyson said, her tone was final and neither of her daughters replied. She continued making dinner.
Blake was just putting her guitar away forty five minutes later when she heard a knock on her door. She called for the person to come in and saw, to her annoyance, that it was Olivia.
“Dinner is ready,” the eldest Christenson said stiffly, but Blake could see the irritation in her sister’s eyes, as if it were a major chore to tell Blake it was time to eat.
“Thanks, I’ll be down in a second,” Blake replied. Olivia didn’t say anything as she turned to leave. Blake took a deep breath and went to the bathroom to wash her hands.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Keeper 7
“So, what do you want for your birthday?” Katerina asked Bella. It was only six days until January 21st and Bella and her girlfriend were laying on Bella’s bed, cuddling and watching Drop Dead Gorgeous.
The younger girl let out a heavy sigh at the mention of her birthday; it was a very sore subject for her.
“I don’t know,” she replied quietly.
“Well, there has to be something you want; you’ve had to at least thought about it,” the nineteen year old pressed, oblivious to Bella’s discomfort.
“Not really.”
“You’re turning seventeen, though. You can finally go to a rated R movie without an adult. It’s a big step,” Katerina teased, then kissed Bella’s cheek. “Come on, one thing you want.”
She shifted her position so that her head was lying on Bella’s stomach. She slowly traced Bella’s skin on her neck, forcing her girlfriend to pay attention to her instead of focusing very intently on the movie. Bella shuddered slightly at the feather light contact and looked down at Katerina, her eyes almost pleading.
“To stop talking about my birthday,” she said in reply to what she wants for her birthday. Katerina picked up on this. She gave her a concerned look.
“What’s the matter, Bella? Why don’t you want to discuss your birthday?” she asked, propping her head up and leaning against her elbow on the other side of Bella, so she was laying perpendicular to the younger teenager. Bella avoided eye contact and looked out her window instead.
“We’re still talking about it,” she whispered. Katerina could hear the pain in her voice and decided to let it go for now. She nodded.
“Okay, we can stop,” she said. Bella finally met her eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Katerina gave her a serious look.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” she asked. Bella gave her a small smile.
“I do.”
Katerina returned her smile and leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend tenderly for a few seconds.
Bella believed that, after a while, she’d grow accustomed to the way Katerina could make her feel when she kissed her; however, they still held the fire and electricity that their first one had, which Bella was not complaining about in the slightest.
They settled back into their cuddled position and went back to watching the movie, more relaxed and comfortable than should be legally be allowed.
With only a few days left until Bella’s birthday, Katerina was starting to get a little worried about the soon-to-be seventeen year old. She was growing slightly more depressed as each day passed and she refused to talk about it, shooting down Katerina down every time she mentioned her birthday. She was at a loss as to what to do.
Bella had been aware of how she’s been acting and felt slightly guilty for getting irritated with Katerina; she knew not why Bella was against celebrating her birthday. However, she still refused to talk about it with her girlfriend.
Most teenagers are excited at the prospect of their birthdays. They are one year older, one year closer to becoming adults and leaving their childhood home to venture on and live their own life. They are allowed more privileges in life such as driving and buying pornography. They spent the day with their family, then at night they would have a party with all their friends and receive all the gifts they wished for. However, this was not Bellatrix Christine Peterson’s feeling about birthdays. She feared that day and tried her damndest to not think about it, however, it never worked. Every year, January twenty first arrived and she would succumb to the annual depression she felt like she was destined to feel once a year for the rest of her days.
Then, the dreaded, in Bella’s opinion, day came. She woke up in the morning with a groan, her stomach and heart feeling as if ice were now coated in an outer layer of ice. This was one of the few times she cursed the heavens for having her birthday be on a Saturday. She wanted school to be a distraction from the horrible feeling that was lying in her heart, but it was not to be. She eventually dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She took about an hour long shower, trying to no avail to wash away the emotions storming through her: sadness, anger, and, the most prominent one, guilt.
She finished her shower and dressed herself in baggy sweatpants and a slightly oversized tee shirt. She wasn’t planning on leaving the house, so there was no need to dress up. She barely glanced at her phone, knowing what it would say. Zero text messages and zero voicemails wishing her happy birthday from her friends; they learned long ago to never mention the anniversary of Bella’s birth to her face lest they wish to avoid a harsh verbal lashing. Not even Kayla, the only one brave enough to stand up to Bella when she was truly angry, dared not say anything.
She reached the kitchen and saw her mother, still in her silk pajamas and bathrobe, sitting at the table, reading the paper and drinking her morning coffee with some toast and scrambled eggs on a plate in front of her.
“Morning mom,” Bella said, kissing her mother’s cheek hello. She then poured her own cup of coffee and sat across from her mother.
“Morning sweetie,” Diane replied very softly. She put down her paper and ate her breakfast, both of them completely silent for about five minutes.
“Bella, honey, don’t you think—” Diane started.
“No,” Bella interrupted firmly, glaring into her caffeinated drink. They had this conversation every year for the past five years and Bella never wanted her mother to finish those sentences.
“But sweetie—”
“I said no, mother,” Bella said with some anger laced in her voice. She only addressed Diane as “mother” when she was angry or embarrassed with her. Diane dropped it and didn’t say anything again for a long moment. However, she couldn’t take it anymore and cleared her throat.
“So...what are you going to do today?” she asked, trying to sound normal, when she actually felt a pain in her chest, knowing her daughter was hurting terribly. While Diane felt Bella’s pain as well, she always tried to never show it for Bella’s sake.
Her daughter shrugged in reply to her question about her day and didn’t give her a verbal answer.
“Do you wish to be alone?”
“What would you do?”
“There is probably something I could to do at the office, but if you want me to stay then I can—”
“No, you can go. I’ll make dinner at five if you can be home by then,” Bella answered. Diane sighed inaudibly and nodded, even though Bella wasn’t looking at her.
“Very well. I’ll go get ready,” she said. She stood, abandoning her half eaten food, and began walking to her bedroom. She stopped next to Bella and hugged her tightly and kissed her head.
“I love you, Bella, more than you could ever know,” she whispered. Bella didn’t return the hug, but felt her throat clench as she tried hard not to cry.
“I know...I love you, too, mom,” she replied very quietly. Diane let go and went up stairs.
Bella took a shaky breath and regained control over her emotions, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill over. She then cleared her mother’s plate and washed the dishes. She then decided that that’s what she was going to do. As soon as her mother left, she would clean the house top to bottom with her iPod blaring in her ears.
And that’s what she did. She started with her room. She organized, did her laundry, dusted, vacuumed, and washed her windows. She then went to the bathroom and cleaned it very thoroughly. The mirror, sink, counter, toilet, and shower. She organized the linen closet and also did a load of towels. She did this throughout the entire house. She listened to loud, angry music, blocking out everything else in the world.
By the time she was finished, it was four thirty and she decided to start dinner. She had settle on spaghetti with salad and rolls. It was simple enough, but it required enough attention to keep her busy.
“Hey, Bells. It smells great,” her mother complimented when she came in the house from work. She kissed her daughter’s temple and went up stairs to change into more comfortable clothes.
“Bella, the house looks fantastic. I can’t believe how clean it looks,” Diane said when she came back into the kitchen. She truly was awed at how great it looked. It was rarely this clean.
“Thanks. I was bored,” her daughter replied as if it was nothing. She was trying her hardest to pretend like today was like every other day.
“Need some help?” the older woman asked, rolling up her sleeves.
“Yeah, that’d be great. The salad needs to be mixed,” Bella replied.
Both women worked on cooking dinner in silence. Both of them knew that nothing could be said to ease the pain and slight awkwardness between them. Dinner was eaten in the same manner with very few words exchanged. However, in the middle of their meal, they’re silence was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. They looked at each other quizzically.
“Are you expecting someone?” Diane asked. Bella raised an eyebrow, clearly asking, was that even a real question.
“I’ll get it,” Bella stated, then walked to the door. She was very surprised at who was standing on the other side.
“Hey, Bells,” Katerina said quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“Kat? What are you doing here?” Bella asked, praying that it wasn’t what Bella was thinking.
“I thought it’d be obvious,” her girlfriend stated with a smirk. Bella hung her head and sighed.
“Kat...” she whispered.
“Before you say anything, I just wanted to show you that for whatever reason you hate your birthday, I want to show you that it can be special,” the nineteen year old said. She pulled her hand out from behind her back and presented Bella with a blue rose, blue being Bella’s favorite color. “I decided on blue instead of red in order to not make this anymore corny than it already is,” Katerina said, chuckling nervously since Bella didn’t look happy at all to see her. “Come with me tonight? I have a picnic in the car and a moonlit stroll on the beach.”
Bella heard this and gritted her teeth. She was becoming more angry by the second.
“Kat, I told you I didn’t want anything for my birthday. I just want this day to end and move on. I’ve been doing this for a few years and it’s worked out just fine,” Bella said, trying not to lose her temper.
“Well, that’s a very sad way to celebrate the birth of my girlfriend. I think it’s time you make a new tradition,” Katerina replied.
“Kat,” Bella said, but she interrupted her.
“Come on. I made brownies with the caramel swirls you love,” her girlfriend continued.
“Damn it, Katerina! I said no! Why can’t you just understand that I don’t want to do anything? I don’t even want to know what day it is, I don’t want to celebrate it, I don’t want to remember today ever happened or any other birthday in the future or past! Why can’t you just get that?” Bella exclaimed, raising her voice and glaring at Katerina. “Why can’t you just let it go and respect my wishes?”
Katerina was extremely shocked. Bella has, for as long as she’s known her, always been a level headed person; never quick to anger or lose her temper. For her to blow up like that was very out of character and the older girl realized she may have misjudged the intensity of Bella’s feelings toward her birthday.
“Bella...I just wanted to make this day a happy one for you. No one should be depressed on their birthday,” Katerina said. Bella took a deep breath, trying to reign in her anger by reminding herself that her girlfriend has no idea why she loathes this day so much. Before Bella could reply, Diane arrived at the door, concerned when she heard the yelling.
“What is going on? Katerina, is that you?” she asked.
“Hello, Diane,” Katerina greeted.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Diane quickly glanced at the rose in the nineteen year olds hand, but then back into her eyes.
“I’m trying to convince Bella to do something with me for her birthday.”
Katerina saw the same pain she’s seen in Bella’s eyes lately flash across Diane’s for a moment before the mother turned to her daughter. The two stared into each other’s eyes, Diane silently asking Bella a question. Bella shook her head in reply and Diane sighed.
“Bella...” she said.
“I know,” her daughter said. Katerina stood there, confused, but remained silent. Bella took another deep breath and looked at Katerina. “Come on, Kat. There’s something I need to show you.”
Katerina looked at her questioningly, but followed Bella to her own car and they silently began driving. The girl in the passenger seat didn’t want to ask where they were going because Bella looked very deep in thought.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to an old, weather beaten, white church and a worn down dirt road. It was completely empty, five o’clock mass already finished.
Bella didn’t say a word and Katerina followed her, remaining two paces behind her. Soon, they stopped in front of a gravestone. It was simple granite stone that came up to Katerina’s knees. She squinted, but was unable to read what name was carved into it because of the absence of light.
“Bella, what’s going on?” she eventually asked when her girlfriend wasn’t saying anything. Bella sighed and answered, staring at the headstone, her voice filled with pain and grief.
“Katerina...I’d like you to meet Keira Samantha Peterson,” Bella said just above a whisper. Katerina gasped quietly at the last name. “My twin sister.”
Author's Note
Okay, so this was pretty short. But I think I'm going to keep it like this; the chapters shorter, I mean. That way, I'll be able to spit them out faster for you guys. Again, all comments are welcomed :) Keep on reading!
Wild Cat
The younger girl let out a heavy sigh at the mention of her birthday; it was a very sore subject for her.
“I don’t know,” she replied quietly.
“Well, there has to be something you want; you’ve had to at least thought about it,” the nineteen year old pressed, oblivious to Bella’s discomfort.
“Not really.”
“You’re turning seventeen, though. You can finally go to a rated R movie without an adult. It’s a big step,” Katerina teased, then kissed Bella’s cheek. “Come on, one thing you want.”
She shifted her position so that her head was lying on Bella’s stomach. She slowly traced Bella’s skin on her neck, forcing her girlfriend to pay attention to her instead of focusing very intently on the movie. Bella shuddered slightly at the feather light contact and looked down at Katerina, her eyes almost pleading.
“To stop talking about my birthday,” she said in reply to what she wants for her birthday. Katerina picked up on this. She gave her a concerned look.
“What’s the matter, Bella? Why don’t you want to discuss your birthday?” she asked, propping her head up and leaning against her elbow on the other side of Bella, so she was laying perpendicular to the younger teenager. Bella avoided eye contact and looked out her window instead.
“We’re still talking about it,” she whispered. Katerina could hear the pain in her voice and decided to let it go for now. She nodded.
“Okay, we can stop,” she said. Bella finally met her eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Katerina gave her a serious look.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” she asked. Bella gave her a small smile.
“I do.”
Katerina returned her smile and leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend tenderly for a few seconds.
Bella believed that, after a while, she’d grow accustomed to the way Katerina could make her feel when she kissed her; however, they still held the fire and electricity that their first one had, which Bella was not complaining about in the slightest.
They settled back into their cuddled position and went back to watching the movie, more relaxed and comfortable than should be legally be allowed.
With only a few days left until Bella’s birthday, Katerina was starting to get a little worried about the soon-to-be seventeen year old. She was growing slightly more depressed as each day passed and she refused to talk about it, shooting down Katerina down every time she mentioned her birthday. She was at a loss as to what to do.
Bella had been aware of how she’s been acting and felt slightly guilty for getting irritated with Katerina; she knew not why Bella was against celebrating her birthday. However, she still refused to talk about it with her girlfriend.
Most teenagers are excited at the prospect of their birthdays. They are one year older, one year closer to becoming adults and leaving their childhood home to venture on and live their own life. They are allowed more privileges in life such as driving and buying pornography. They spent the day with their family, then at night they would have a party with all their friends and receive all the gifts they wished for. However, this was not Bellatrix Christine Peterson’s feeling about birthdays. She feared that day and tried her damndest to not think about it, however, it never worked. Every year, January twenty first arrived and she would succumb to the annual depression she felt like she was destined to feel once a year for the rest of her days.
Then, the dreaded, in Bella’s opinion, day came. She woke up in the morning with a groan, her stomach and heart feeling as if ice were now coated in an outer layer of ice. This was one of the few times she cursed the heavens for having her birthday be on a Saturday. She wanted school to be a distraction from the horrible feeling that was lying in her heart, but it was not to be. She eventually dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She took about an hour long shower, trying to no avail to wash away the emotions storming through her: sadness, anger, and, the most prominent one, guilt.
She finished her shower and dressed herself in baggy sweatpants and a slightly oversized tee shirt. She wasn’t planning on leaving the house, so there was no need to dress up. She barely glanced at her phone, knowing what it would say. Zero text messages and zero voicemails wishing her happy birthday from her friends; they learned long ago to never mention the anniversary of Bella’s birth to her face lest they wish to avoid a harsh verbal lashing. Not even Kayla, the only one brave enough to stand up to Bella when she was truly angry, dared not say anything.
She reached the kitchen and saw her mother, still in her silk pajamas and bathrobe, sitting at the table, reading the paper and drinking her morning coffee with some toast and scrambled eggs on a plate in front of her.
“Morning mom,” Bella said, kissing her mother’s cheek hello. She then poured her own cup of coffee and sat across from her mother.
“Morning sweetie,” Diane replied very softly. She put down her paper and ate her breakfast, both of them completely silent for about five minutes.
“Bella, honey, don’t you think—” Diane started.
“No,” Bella interrupted firmly, glaring into her caffeinated drink. They had this conversation every year for the past five years and Bella never wanted her mother to finish those sentences.
“But sweetie—”
“I said no, mother,” Bella said with some anger laced in her voice. She only addressed Diane as “mother” when she was angry or embarrassed with her. Diane dropped it and didn’t say anything again for a long moment. However, she couldn’t take it anymore and cleared her throat.
“So...what are you going to do today?” she asked, trying to sound normal, when she actually felt a pain in her chest, knowing her daughter was hurting terribly. While Diane felt Bella’s pain as well, she always tried to never show it for Bella’s sake.
Her daughter shrugged in reply to her question about her day and didn’t give her a verbal answer.
“Do you wish to be alone?”
“What would you do?”
“There is probably something I could to do at the office, but if you want me to stay then I can—”
“No, you can go. I’ll make dinner at five if you can be home by then,” Bella answered. Diane sighed inaudibly and nodded, even though Bella wasn’t looking at her.
“Very well. I’ll go get ready,” she said. She stood, abandoning her half eaten food, and began walking to her bedroom. She stopped next to Bella and hugged her tightly and kissed her head.
“I love you, Bella, more than you could ever know,” she whispered. Bella didn’t return the hug, but felt her throat clench as she tried hard not to cry.
“I know...I love you, too, mom,” she replied very quietly. Diane let go and went up stairs.
Bella took a shaky breath and regained control over her emotions, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill over. She then cleared her mother’s plate and washed the dishes. She then decided that that’s what she was going to do. As soon as her mother left, she would clean the house top to bottom with her iPod blaring in her ears.
And that’s what she did. She started with her room. She organized, did her laundry, dusted, vacuumed, and washed her windows. She then went to the bathroom and cleaned it very thoroughly. The mirror, sink, counter, toilet, and shower. She organized the linen closet and also did a load of towels. She did this throughout the entire house. She listened to loud, angry music, blocking out everything else in the world.
By the time she was finished, it was four thirty and she decided to start dinner. She had settle on spaghetti with salad and rolls. It was simple enough, but it required enough attention to keep her busy.
“Hey, Bells. It smells great,” her mother complimented when she came in the house from work. She kissed her daughter’s temple and went up stairs to change into more comfortable clothes.
“Bella, the house looks fantastic. I can’t believe how clean it looks,” Diane said when she came back into the kitchen. She truly was awed at how great it looked. It was rarely this clean.
“Thanks. I was bored,” her daughter replied as if it was nothing. She was trying her hardest to pretend like today was like every other day.
“Need some help?” the older woman asked, rolling up her sleeves.
“Yeah, that’d be great. The salad needs to be mixed,” Bella replied.
Both women worked on cooking dinner in silence. Both of them knew that nothing could be said to ease the pain and slight awkwardness between them. Dinner was eaten in the same manner with very few words exchanged. However, in the middle of their meal, they’re silence was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. They looked at each other quizzically.
“Are you expecting someone?” Diane asked. Bella raised an eyebrow, clearly asking, was that even a real question.
“I’ll get it,” Bella stated, then walked to the door. She was very surprised at who was standing on the other side.
“Hey, Bells,” Katerina said quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“Kat? What are you doing here?” Bella asked, praying that it wasn’t what Bella was thinking.
“I thought it’d be obvious,” her girlfriend stated with a smirk. Bella hung her head and sighed.
“Kat...” she whispered.
“Before you say anything, I just wanted to show you that for whatever reason you hate your birthday, I want to show you that it can be special,” the nineteen year old said. She pulled her hand out from behind her back and presented Bella with a blue rose, blue being Bella’s favorite color. “I decided on blue instead of red in order to not make this anymore corny than it already is,” Katerina said, chuckling nervously since Bella didn’t look happy at all to see her. “Come with me tonight? I have a picnic in the car and a moonlit stroll on the beach.”
Bella heard this and gritted her teeth. She was becoming more angry by the second.
“Kat, I told you I didn’t want anything for my birthday. I just want this day to end and move on. I’ve been doing this for a few years and it’s worked out just fine,” Bella said, trying not to lose her temper.
“Well, that’s a very sad way to celebrate the birth of my girlfriend. I think it’s time you make a new tradition,” Katerina replied.
“Kat,” Bella said, but she interrupted her.
“Come on. I made brownies with the caramel swirls you love,” her girlfriend continued.
“Damn it, Katerina! I said no! Why can’t you just understand that I don’t want to do anything? I don’t even want to know what day it is, I don’t want to celebrate it, I don’t want to remember today ever happened or any other birthday in the future or past! Why can’t you just get that?” Bella exclaimed, raising her voice and glaring at Katerina. “Why can’t you just let it go and respect my wishes?”
Katerina was extremely shocked. Bella has, for as long as she’s known her, always been a level headed person; never quick to anger or lose her temper. For her to blow up like that was very out of character and the older girl realized she may have misjudged the intensity of Bella’s feelings toward her birthday.
“Bella...I just wanted to make this day a happy one for you. No one should be depressed on their birthday,” Katerina said. Bella took a deep breath, trying to reign in her anger by reminding herself that her girlfriend has no idea why she loathes this day so much. Before Bella could reply, Diane arrived at the door, concerned when she heard the yelling.
“What is going on? Katerina, is that you?” she asked.
“Hello, Diane,” Katerina greeted.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Diane quickly glanced at the rose in the nineteen year olds hand, but then back into her eyes.
“I’m trying to convince Bella to do something with me for her birthday.”
Katerina saw the same pain she’s seen in Bella’s eyes lately flash across Diane’s for a moment before the mother turned to her daughter. The two stared into each other’s eyes, Diane silently asking Bella a question. Bella shook her head in reply and Diane sighed.
“Bella...” she said.
“I know,” her daughter said. Katerina stood there, confused, but remained silent. Bella took another deep breath and looked at Katerina. “Come on, Kat. There’s something I need to show you.”
Katerina looked at her questioningly, but followed Bella to her own car and they silently began driving. The girl in the passenger seat didn’t want to ask where they were going because Bella looked very deep in thought.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to an old, weather beaten, white church and a worn down dirt road. It was completely empty, five o’clock mass already finished.
Bella didn’t say a word and Katerina followed her, remaining two paces behind her. Soon, they stopped in front of a gravestone. It was simple granite stone that came up to Katerina’s knees. She squinted, but was unable to read what name was carved into it because of the absence of light.
“Bella, what’s going on?” she eventually asked when her girlfriend wasn’t saying anything. Bella sighed and answered, staring at the headstone, her voice filled with pain and grief.
“Katerina...I’d like you to meet Keira Samantha Peterson,” Bella said just above a whisper. Katerina gasped quietly at the last name. “My twin sister.”
Author's Note
Okay, so this was pretty short. But I think I'm going to keep it like this; the chapters shorter, I mean. That way, I'll be able to spit them out faster for you guys. Again, all comments are welcomed :) Keep on reading!
Wild Cat
Monday, March 2, 2009
Don't Worry
Don't worry everyone. Although I am adding a new story "Taken Away" I will not forget about "The Keeper." I am doing both at once, but I will probably focus a bit more on "Taken Away" more than "The Keeper" because I am just starting "Taken Away" so I naturally have more ideas that I want to work on. But I promise I will not forget about The Keeper, especially if everyone keeps bugging me about it ;) Ha ha, just kidding guys. I love that you support it so much. Keep on reading! :)
Wild Cat
Wild Cat
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