Chapter One: The Diamond
Naomi looked at her father for the last time, forcing a small smile on her full lips. She waved carefully, looking at the woman who stood next to her before walking off. Both she and her father knew that if she hugged him as she said 'goodbye' would make her cry, so that was avoided. They had said their formal goodbyes last night with a bucket of ice cream and a spoof movie. Naomi wiped her eyes quickly as she walked down the stairs of the dingy apartment, her footsteps echoing with each step. She looked back for one last time before slipping her hand into the woman beside her for comfort. The woman smiled down at her, lacking the sincerity Naomi wanted. The smile was emotionless and cold, something that bothered Naomi greatly.
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach, making this experience about ten times worse. Naomi was a very intuitive person, so every 'hunch' was taken into account. The two walked quickly to the car to avoid the rain, much to Naomi's dismay. She frowned and stepped in the beat-up, red Honda and inhaling the scent of cigarettes and car-fresheners. Naomi noticed the evergreen incense that was tossed in the back seat along with the light smell of marijuana that tainted the air. She forest eyes as soon as the engine roared to life, her stomach turning unpleasantly.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" Asked the woman, turning to face Naomi.
That was another strike. Naomi always hated pet names, she thought they were sleazy and secretive, not to mention disrespectful. She quickly shook her head, not vocalizing her discomfort at all. The woman shrugged and turned on the radio, Nine Inch Nails playing lowly in the background. Naomi groaned and turned her head to the side as the car took a left turn, exiting the small apartment complex. The woman who had introduced herself as Joanna glanced at Naomi warily, praying to God that she didn't hurl in her car.
"I'm fine," Naomi croaked, feeling her gaze. "I just get a little car sick."
Naomi hated lies, but in this case, to this person, she had a right to lie. She didn't know, nor did she like this woman and some lies—white lies—were necessary and reassuring. She did, however, feel a bit guilty for lying. It was an automatic thing for Naomi, since her father had raised her to be honest and pure, despite her background and surroundings. Naomi rested her head against the back of the seat, letting Trent Reznor's hypnotic voice flood her ears. The seductive, dark sound taunted her like a warning, which made Naomi feel more on edge than she already was.
"Joanna?"
The woman took a minute to reply, as if she had a problem processing her own name. "Yes?"
"Where were you born?"
"Around here, actually, why do you ask?"
"Taking makes me feel better when I'm in the car." Naomi informed, not liking the woman's suspicious tone.
"Oh,"
"Favorite color?"
"Red."
"Hmm...favorite movie?"
"I don't have time for television."
Naomi fell silent and bit her lip, liking Joanna less with each moment. The way she had said that was strike three, as ridiculous as it sounds. She had said so bitterly, her tone was ice-cold. There was much more meaning behind the sentence and both of them knew it. She fumbled with her hands nervously, knowing the long ride wouldn't get much better. Joanna's voice flooded Naomi's ears minutes later, asking her if she'd like to go through the drive-thru at McDonald's. She nodded ruefully, not really hungry at all.
"What do you want?" The woman asked in a semi-bored tone, looking straight at Naomi.
"Sweet tea and fries, please."
"Anything else?"
"No."
As Joanna confirmed the order, Naomi could have sworn she heard Joanna mumbling something along the lines of 'Her last good meal'. This made Naomi shivered at the statement. She was going to a farm, not a concentration camp, right? Her comments were making Naomi feel even worse than she had before, which wasn't very easy. As Buckcherry hummed through the speakers, Joanna handed Naomi her food, giving her a foe smile. Naomi smiled and thanked her gingerly, pulling a piping-hot french fry from the bag, putting it in her mouth carefully. She took a sip of her tea after she swallowed before looking at Joanna who had been staring at her intently.
"What?" She asked softly, wiping her face nervously. "Is there something on my face?"
Joanna laughed at Naomi and shook her head, pressing the green 'send' button on her Sidekick. Admittedly, Naomi thought Joanna had a nice laugh when it was genuine. Naomi blushed lightly and took another sip of her sweet tea, fidgeting slightly with bag that sat in her opposing hand. The two started off towards their destination. The rest of the ride was in near silence, the only voices to be heard were those of the various band Joanna decided to play.
As the car came to a halt, Naomi opened her eyes. She absorbed her surroundings, the long and damp dirt road that lead back to the way they came, the large white house that sat keenly in the middle of the rural land. She slowly pulled the duffel bag from the floor of the front seat, tossing it over her shoulder. She tightened the strap and walked closer to the house once she saw Joanna's reassuring smile. Not that the smile made her decision any less difficult to make. She walked as close to Joanna as possible, her eyes stuck on the large house before her. Her green orbs danced over the navy shutters as she walked, then the the very orthodox couch-swing that hung from the ceiling of the deck. As the two approached the house, the sinking feeling was much more prominent in Naomi's stomach.
Joanna knocked the on the door impatiently, her foot tapping on the painted wood of the deck. Naomi looked down at her own two Converse clad feet, looking at the newest mud stains that lined the white rubber of the shoes. She frowned and pushed a strand of chocolate brown hair from her face. Naomi scratched her arm, just above her bracelet-covered wrists. She examined each bracelet carefully, admiring each friendship bracelet, silly-band , and colored jelly bracelet that coated her arm. Her eyes landed painfully on the beaded, Hematite bracelet her mother gave her. She swallowed hard and tucked her hands in her American Vintage jacket pocket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. That moment, the door opened.
A kind-faced blond stood in the doorway, her small figure guarding the two from the inside of the house. Her gray-green eyes scanning over Joanna disapprovingly, then making their way over to Naomi. A smile played the woman's thin lips as she looked at Naomi, her body slipping from the doorway to the porch, her eyes scanning Naomi over. This woman, who went by Val, opened her arms to embrace Naomi in a hug. Naomi accepted the offer gingerly, her arms slowly wrapping around the woman's thin middle.
"I'm Valary, but I go by Val. You must be Naomi."
"Yes, I'm Naomi." Naomi said awkwardly, feeling Val's grip loosen on her waist.
"We've heard such good tings about you from your father. "
"We?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, 'we' is myself and my sister Michelle. You'll meet her in a minute, just go inside. I'll talk to—" She glanced at Joanna and smiled warmly, her eyes cutting slightly. "Joanna and get the rest of your things."
Naomi nodded, not bothering to tell Val that the duffel bag contained all of her clothes and 'things'. As Naomi walked inside the house, her heart rate accelerated for some unknown reason. The house was warm, inviting to say the least with mahogany, hard-wood flooring and pale blue paint decorating the walls, along with several paintings. It felt surreal and unnatural to Naomi, for some reason and it made her feel woo-zy. Naomi made her way into the kitchen to find a small brunette cooking. When she turned around, Naomi jumped out of surprise. The woman was the spitting image of Val, all except her frame, which was a bit taller and the slightest bit thicker than her sister's and her dark brown hair. The woman flashed the same smile Val had given her and beckoned Naomi to come and introduce herself formally.
Naomi did as instructed and slowly walked closer, her hand resting protectively on the strap of her PINK duffel bag. She stood in front of the woman called Michelle and looked down at the pancake batter that sat sloppily in the porcelain bowl. Her gaze went back to Michelle as the bowl was lifted. She spoke as Michelle poured the batter into the pan, making a slight sizzling sound as it met the hot skillet. "Um, hello, I'm Naomi." She introduced awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck warily, not wanting to be socializing with the woman she'd be doing farm work for. She didn't like socializing in general, but this was an all time low.
"Hello Naomi, I'm Michelle. My sister and I own the farm, how old are you, sweetheart?"
The pet name struck a nerve, making Naomi choke on her words a tiny bit. "I'm s-sixteen." She smiled ruefully, earning a grin from Michelle. Naomi sent her a quizzical look, not knowing why her age mattered so much to Michelle. Michelle noticed her suspicion and shook off her head, as if to shake away Naomi's thoughts.
"Sixteen is the best age to be," Michelle explained, grabbing a spatula from the counter. "Don't you think?"
"Er, not really no."
"And why not?"
"My childhood holds my fondest memories. I mean, my early childhood. Up until I was five. Those years hold my fondest memories."
Michelle's temporary frown lifted itself into a bright smile as she flipped the pancake that was now cooked to a rich, golden brown. "I don't remember those days much," Michelle smiled, grabbing a painted, China plate from the cupboard. "I guess memory really does go with youth, huh?" Naomi smiled lightly and nodded, giving her attention to Val who'd just walked through the door. Valary sent Naomi a large smile that was identical to Michelle's bright beam. The blond then sat herself down at the table, resting her hands on her the cream colored table cloth. She smiled up at Naomi, patting the seat next to her.
"Come and sit down, Michelle loves to wait on people."
"I can help it's—"
"No, I insist," Michelle butted in, pushing Naomi towards Val lightly. "Sit down. You've had a long drive."
"Oh, um, okay."
Val looked at Naomi intently and crossed her legs, resting an off-white napkin on her lap. Naomi did the same and looked down at the empty plate before her. Val's clear, warm voice flooded the air making Naomi look up. "So, tell us about yourself Naomi." Val suggested, not leaving any room to argue. "We like to be friends with out employees, here. It make for a better business relationship, you know, less communication issues." Naomi smiled and nodded lightly, toying and fidgeting with her fingers.
"Um, I'm sixteen and I guess I keep to myself. I'm an only child and live with my father, my mother passed away last summer."
"I'm so sorry," Murmured Val, resting her own hand on Naomi's. Naomi flinched at the contact but smiled up at her shyly, nonetheless.
"It's alright, everybody's gotta die sometime, right."
A small glint flashed in Val's eyes, but vanished just as quickly as it came. She nodded cautiously, but smiled sadly, giving Naomi the slightest bit of sympathy. Naomi cleared her throat nervously to continue. "My favorite color is purple, I like rain better than shine, and I don't care for birthdays too much." Not knowing what else to say, she stayed silent, causing Val to look her in the eyes for a split second.
"Any musical interests?"
"Yeah, I like rock, mainly the older stuff though. Like Nirvana, The Police, AC/DC, and The Strokes."
"How about boys?"
"No." Naomi shook her head, grimacing at the thought. In her opinion; boys were sex oriented morons, at least the ones in her grade.
"Girls?"
"No! No, not that there's anything wrong with that—"
Val laughed and shook her head, telling her she understood what she meant. Her face lost all amusement as she looked back up at Naomi. "You're a virgin then, correct?"
"Y-Yes."
"Good," Val breathed airily, a large smile gracing her lips. "You're too young for that." Naomi brushed her ankle with her toes uncomfortably, biting her lip. The question made her uncomfortable and she thought it was a bit too personal for small-talk. As if on cue; Michelle brought out a large stack of pancakes, along with two bowls. One of the two contained halved strawberries while the other contained homemade whipped cream. The two watched as Naomi timidly served herself, piling two pancakes under a very small amount of syrup. Naomi threw a moderate sum of strawberries over a heap of whipped cream before looking up at both Val and Michelle. After gaining their approval—a smile from Val and an eager nod from Michelle—Naomi started to eat. She moaned slightly from the taste, noting that strawberries were cooked directly into the pancake.
"How is it?" Michelle asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"It's amazing, thank you."
Naomi wasn't lying, not that she wasn't one to tell the truth anyways. The pancakes tasted almost too perfect and sweet to be real. Michelle stood and moments later came back with a large glass of orange juice. She set it down before Naomi, smiling brightly as she did so. Naomi let a small, gracious smile play her lips, but it didn't quite match Michelle's great beam. Naomi ate the meal in silence, occasionally looking up at either Val or Michelle. Once finished, Val took her plate and glass to the kitchen as Michelle brought up the remaining pancakes and empty bowls behind her. Naomi felt like a freeloader, but she knew the twins would protest if she asked to help. So, Naomi waited until the two were finished.
"Thank you so much, it was amazing, really."
"It's no problem, sweetheart." Naomi flinched at Michelle's nickname, but kept her small smile on her lips. "You should get to bed, my God, it's nine 'o clock. You've had a long day."
Naomi nodded and picked up her duffel bag. "Where will I be staying?" She inquired, looking around her skeptically. Val smiled and told her that she would show her and Michelle would do dishes. Naomi walked behind Val up the stairs and walked into the room that would be hers for the night. The walls were pained a pleasant shade of washed-out sage green with an off-white trim. A queen-sized bed rested in the center of the room, diagonal from an oak wood dresser, with a quilted comforter and cream sheets. In the middle of many, many pillows rested a small teddy bear with a pink ribbon fastened around its neck. Naomi smiled and set her bag down on the trunk that sat at the end of her bed.
"That," Val informed, sending a pointed look at the footlocker. "Has as extra blankets and pillows in it. You can put your stuff in the closet if you'd like, to make it feel a bit more like home."
"Oh, okay, thank you."
"Is this room okay for you? If it's not—"
"No, no it's perfect. I love it." Smiled Naomi quickly, not wanting to sound ungrateful. She didn't care for the room too much, in reality, it seemed too perfected. "Thank you."
"It's no problem, honey." Val nodded, a smile resting on her thin lips. "I'll be down stairs if you need me."
With that and a small hug, Val exited the room and walked down the stairs. Naomi stripped and dressed in her flannel pajamas, leaving her bracelets on her wrist. She ran a brush through her hair and tied it up, letting a few loose strands hang down. She then brushed her teeth and washed her face, finally crawling into the bed. She shifted in the bed, letting her eyes shut slowly, entering her into a dreamless slumber.
Naomi was a smart girl, but she was ignorant. She was ignorant to the fact that Fell's Farm, the place she was supposed to be working at, had closed twenty years ago in 1990. She didn't know that Val and Michelle were only two of seven employers here, and she didn't know that her work would be much more tiring than cropping and feeding animals. Naomi was very ignorant, in fact, she was so ignorant that she didn't know what she was. She was unaware of her good looks and perfect persona for business, painfully unaware of her value. Naomi was oblivious to one very important fact: she was a diamond. A diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless.