Hello all, this will be my first Jurassic Park/World anything, and I will admit I have barely seen any of the original or the new one. This is an idea a friend had that they wanted me to explore, and I hope you will enjoy it!
I do not own anything other than my characters and ideas.
Winged Thief
Prologue – The Call
Light bathed weakly across the room from the small lamp, leaving most of the cracked and horribly pale yellow walls hidden in the shadows for me. Too bad it couldn't hide what I really did want to see. I sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of my springy bed as I flicked the card open with one hand, feeling a cool tingle down my neck.
Dear Mia
Wishing you a very happy 17th birthday
From Ron and Gloria
xxxx
They couldn't even write their own message to me, there wasn't even a lousy five bucks in the cheap pink birthday card. Tossing the tacky card aside, I wiped the glitter from my fingers on my trousers, flinging myself back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, ignoring the rusty spring that dared to disturb me.
Every year it was the same thing, a cheap card and a forced message from grandparents that I barely even knew; their faces were hardly known to me. Sometimes I thought it was better that they didn't send anything at all, rather than receiving a harsh reminder every year that my birthday was the reason I was here now, living in a house that was falling apart and far away from a family that only saw a grim reminder that my existence was the reason their precious daughter was dead. I knew they blamed me for her death, blamed an innocent baby that had no control of anything, I never wanted to be the cause of my mother's pain nor my families sorrow, but they were not kind, which is why I was here now, celebrating my birthday in a half mouldy room with the surname Grady.
Half the time I think it was really because I was the child of Owen Grady, from what grandma Grady told me, they never approved of a boy from a hard working 'lower class.'
I couldn't blame him though, at the end of the day, he had wanted to look after me, not ship me off to some orphanage or sell me to the highest bidder. Granted things might have been easier and nicer, but when had that ever been the way to happiness?
I was raised with the grandmother; she didn't care that my birth was tainted by death, and she had an abundance of love to give; sometimes too much. My dad was not around a lot, having joined the Navy while I was still learning to walk, but he was there when things mattered and everything he did was for me, I can see that. That was why I didn't object when he came back, asking me to move to San Diego with him; a better job and a new start and here we were.
I'm not saying that it has been an easy or smooth transition; we had no practice at being a father and daughter without grandma Grady there to remind us of what to say or do in some situations, like share a hug or correct a sentence so it didn't get taken the wrong way, but we were managing. Heck I mean it has been nearly two years and we're still here, still making it work.
Keys jingled at the front door and I launched upright, my smile growing as I jumped to my feet, quickly checking my strawberry blonde hair in the mirror.
"Mia, I'm home and I have tea!"
I glanced back at the pink card on my bed, snarling at it as I turned the light off and hurried down the hall.
Dad was setting the pizza down on the stained coffee table, a plastic bag with beer and soft drink dangling from his wrist.
"Hawaiian with extra pineapple?"
"Yep," he chuckled, flipping the lid back, "And a copy of the original Psycho." He revealed the DVD from the plastic bag and I grinned ear to ear; we were still learning about each other, but he seemed to be doing a good job of it tonight.
"Happy birthday Hun." He looked at me, his face soft and I stepped into him, wrapping my arms tight around his chest, his warm hands on my back as he embraced me. The smell of his work still lingered on him; sweat and sea water and I breathed it in happily.
"Thanks Dad."
"Alright, let's eat before it gets cold."
Walking around the tatty brown lounge, he set the small TV up as I jumped into my seat, grabbing a slice of the pizza and ripping into it. I was practically onto my second piece as Dad dropped himself next to me, nudging me with his shoulder as the movie began to play.
"You know for the amount you eat I can't believe how small you are."
I scoffed at him over a mouthful of pizza, playfully snatching the can of coke he passed to me.
"It's from all the stress you cause me, and my old age."
A rich laugh cracked from his throat, partly forced but I grinned as he shook his head.
"Old age, come talk to me when your thirty."
"I'll be even older, how will I hear you? Better yet, will you still be around?" I giggled, the scowl on my father's face only softened by the smirk, gulping down a mouthful of beer.
"Can I have one? Come on, no one needs to know," I smiled, lifting my feet onto the lounge and as he turned his head to look at me I batted my eyelids, pushing my bottom lip out in a pleading pout.
It turned to a grin as he angled his beer towards me to take, and I reached for it, only for it to be torn away from me, my father's evil chuckle echoing the small sparse room and I hit his arm.
"A few more years girly."
The pizza was gone in no time and empty cans and beer bottles riddled the table in front of us as the movie played. Luckily we were comfortable enough in each other's presence that we didn't feel the need to talk all the time, enjoying the quiet night in. I could have been out with my school friends, but that would kind of be a lie, they weren't really 'friends'. Acquaintances from school that more than likely only spoke to me because I had the answers to the homework. It didn't bother me, not really, I'd much rather be sitting in an extra-large comfy clothes watching a thriller with my Dad.
The quiet didn't last long, the shrill tone of a mobile in the kitchen making us both groan.
"Grandma called you yet?"
"Yeah she did, lunch time. That's your phone Dad."
Heaving himself up off the lounge, he stretched and I poked him in the ribs.
"Hey what's my birthday present?"
My father grabbed his phone from the bench, pointing a finger at me.
"Me not kicking your ass for getting tattooed is present enough," he growled, but the playful rise of his eyebrows softened it and I turned back to the movie as he answered the phone.
It wasn't even a big tattoo, just something in tribute for my mother, the constellation of Sagittarius on my shoulder blade, luckily a couple of permanent dots connected by lines wasn't enough for him to give up on me and ship me back to his mother. The stars were as close as I was ever going to get to my own mum.
Of course I felt guilty, mainly on those nights when I wanted to cry into her arms, or hear comforting words about life and growing up as a girl from the person that carried me and gave me life. I'm not that lucky though.
No one would tell me exactly how she died, just that after a few days there were complications and that was that.
My parents had both been young, only teenagers themselves; I was just so grateful that my father sacrificed everything to want me, to do what he could so I could have a decent upbringing. Whether he was there or not, I still had a stash of letters he would send me constantly, photos and videos on my laptop.
I had to make this work, it was my turn now to look after him.
Sipping at my drink, I tried not to listen in on the conversation in the next room, but my father's voice began to rise, growling at the person on the other end.
"I don't care if it is an important research opportunity, I can't afford to just drop everything!"
There was a few tense moments, my fingers playing with a frayed piece of string on the hem of my pants, Dads pacing coming to a stop.
"Sure, I'll think about it."
Heavy footsteps brought him back into the lounge and I looked up at him, his face tense and a frown marring his face.
"Everything alright?"
"It's nothing, just work." He dropped back beside me, hanging his head back on the lounge, and normally I would just leave it at that, but I turned more towards him, staring at him.
"I might not know you very well, but I know you well enough to know when something isn't 'nothing'."
His head rolled to face me, his dark eyes locking onto mine and I stared right back.
"It's a job offer, a transfer they are probably going to do without my consent anyway."
I frowned slightly, patting his arm, "But that's great!"
"I'll have to move away," he said sadly and I could see the worry in his eyes; he wanted to make this tiny family work as well.
"I'll come with you then," I declared, shaking my head when he sat up to argue with me, "I don't care where it is, where you go I go, ok?"
My father watched me, as if trying to find some excuse to use to argue with me, but he had learnt of me that I could be fiercely stubborn. Finally he nodded, bringing his beer to his lips as he sighed heavily and I almost bounced with excitement.
"So what is the job?"
Thanks for reading!
I might come back and change it a bit, but let me know what you think, nothing too exciting...yet.
Silver Kirin
xXx
