Hopeless

Cezille07

How does Elena live each week knowing her case rests hopelessly with a Tamer?

Disclaimer: (This gets tiring to retype every time).

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Boardgames

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It was still early, but something urged her to get up already. She looked at the clock; seven-thirty AM. Darn, its too early. But she was up anyway. After a trip to the shower, she went down to the kitchen to see her parents having breakfast.

"Good morning, Elena," her mother greeted, half-sleepy, as she kissed her on the cheek. Her father was already dressed for work.

"Is something wrong?" asked Harvey in a joking manner. "You're up too early on a weekend. Anyhow, the twins beat you again. They're playing in the living room."

"What?"

"If you weren't always sleeping late you wouldn't be having trouble waking up at dawn." Julie smiled. She took a sip of coffee. "Go watch them for a while, your father and I will just finish breakfast."

In the living room—

Charlie and Violet were throwing tiles at each other, using her precious Scrabble set!

"Come on guys! You've made a mess of the living room and my original set!" she gave, a little angrier than she wanted to show. "If I don't find all 100 tiles you're both in big trouble!" It took a while longer to absorb the scene they made. Her siblings smiled innocently. "Who started this?! Charlie, Violet! Answer me!"

"Elena! I told you to watch them, not play the Angry-Mom!" called Julie.

"Yeah!" she called back, but her hands remained on her waist.

Then Charlie stopped laughing. His eyes darted to the window.

"It can't be too early for monsters to make trouble, I suppose," Elena thought. She followed the line of sight, and saw a quick shadow move out of view.

Eventually she found all the tiles (though some ended up in as far as the nursery and the front yard). The board lay open in front of her. Somehow, she knew whose fault it was—she was already holding the letters in her hand, but was too afraid to spell his name. She had already spent far too much time wondering about it every night, the reason she could never fall asleep earlier than ten. Now at dawn he was playing with her again.

One by one, she laid down the four letters across the pink, middle square of the board. "Nineteen," she counted, "double word score, times two. Thirty-eight."

And so her hopeless week begins.