Midnight Summer
One
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Lies and destruction – these are the only two words that can only describe what her life currently feels like or what her room appears to be. In minutes, Gwyn struggles with her chocolate-colored hair, hisses in pain when a knot is tore free from the tangled mess, and sweeps it up into a bun on the top of her head as she paces across the ruins of a once pristine space. She curses. She swears.
Spring is a lie.
Her mother told her it would be a new year, a fresh start.
Possibilities my ass, She says to herself as she yanks on her hoodie.
In her eyes, spring does not entail new friends or help with the future to come. To her, it takes away all that she called home. It rips the warm beaches under the hot, afternoon soon away from her hands just as easily as it pulls her away from the small group of friends she had before coming to this…this…this place.
She can barely hear her mother yelling at her from downstairs over the blaring bass of her stereo but she does not miss the wide grin on Max's face. Little brother or no, he has the same wicked taste in music as she.
"Gwyn, get down here!" her mother's voice, melodious to the ear, roars above the noise and the brunette groans as she clips the studded belt around her red skirt.
Gwyn casts one look at the white hoodie with the black trim, whirls on her heel, and makes her way towards the door. Her brother shakes his head as turns off her sound system.
Two things she notices imminently as she walks down the hall: the smell of bacon and the deafening silence.
"Hey, sis," she casts a black-rimmed gaze over her should at her brother who, at the moment, is pulling a black tee over his head. She eyes his white cargo pants before raising a brow. He only rolls his eyes.
"What?" she turns her attention back to the path she walks as he says, "I was wondering…"
He trails off, his silence an indicator to his unease, but she waits. As they start down the stairs he finishes, "Why didn't dad come with us?"
"Because he's an ass," she pauses before amending, "He's an ass who values his job over his family."
They pause in the stairwell, her gaze settled on his brown-black eyes that match his hair tone for tone, before she sighs. "Look, I know it's tough. I get that. Dad made his choice and we made our choice when we decided to stay with mom. In the end, it works out."
He nods. "Yeah, Grandma Berta needs us, doesn't she? She needs mom."
"Gwyn!" their mother's voice carries up the stairs to them and she groans.
The grin that slowly spreads across Max's face matches his voice when he says, "Sounds like mom's getting impatient."
She rolls her eyes. "I'm coming!"
She lands in the front room, and her sight is obscured by the towering boxes that fill the room. For a moment, Gwyn stands there with her brother at her side.
"Well, crap. Where'd all the boxes come from?" his voice is light, in awe, but Gwyn knows the answer even as their mother pushes one pile out of the way so she can stand before them.
It is impossible to miss her. Her mother, like her brother, is graced with unnaturally dark brown hair that shimmers in the light as they move. It is her eyes that Gwyn notices the most for they are the most unique thing she has ever seen. They are a startling shade of green, a green that one can only see with bloodstones, and the deep green radiate her happiness as she stares at them. The red in her eyes, like speaks of glitter, only make those eyes that more alluring.
"There you are. I thought you feel asleep again!" she flips her cascading hair over her shoulder with the flip of a dainty wrist.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to." Gwyn remarks as she casts another look about the room. It had been clean last night but now…
"I'd offer you a seat, but we don't seem to have one at the moment." Her mother smiles, a wide and glowing twist of pink lips, and turns on her heel to vanish behind the boxes.
Her mom reappears a moment later as she says, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine." The words are sour in her mouth despite the slight smile, a grin of sorts, on her face.
The older woman nods before replying, "That's good to hear. I was wondering if the idea of a new school would be hard on you."
The smile that pulls at Gwyn's lips this time is a true smile. The only good thing about this new town, this Konoha, is the fact that damned bastard isn't here.
"Gwyn," her brother's voice is soft, loud enough to catch her attention, and he murmurs, "Stop thinking whatever you're thinking because that look is coming back."
The smile falls from her lips as her grandmother, Berta, enters the room with a small box in her hands and a wide smile on her face. "Ah, there ye are, child."
Grandmother Berta, or Granny as Gwyn likes to call her, is an elderly woman with white hair. She is a woman that, no matter how ill she feels, refuses to stay off her feet. Even now, as she ambles into the room in her robe of gold and red, the strength in her is easily seen. The colorful layers of her kimono-like robe bring out the red eye shadow that line her lids and make her already white hair look silver in the lighting of the room.
Gwyn smiles at the old woman, proud to be related to such a strong woman. Max, standing next to her, winds his fingers through hers before looking up at their mother.
"I'd offer ye all breakfast, but it seems the kitchen is in the other room. I set out some milk for all of my children, though…" Granny pulls a box off one of the towering stacks and opens it before clucking her tongue.
The four of them make their way through the front room into the marble kitchen of white. Gwyn plots down at the table, folding her legs in the process, as she casts a glance over her shoulder at the two older women. She turns, eyes wide, to find a glass of milk in her face.
"Are you just going to sit there and stare at it or are you going to drink it?" Max asks moments before she takes the glass from her brother's hand.
The four of them sit at the table, either listening or talking. Gwyn, with papers scattered in front of her, reads over her classes and the supplies she'll need for each before turning it to the school events and rules. She scowls as she reads over it before shaking her head.
Her mom sets a bowl of fruit before her, insisting that she needs to eat something before heading off to school, and she casts a look up at the woman. Their eyes meet, rust against green, and Gwyn pushes the papers aside. She plucks a strawberry from the bowl and pops the red orb into her mouth.
"Happy?" she asks a few moments later and her mom motions for her to take another one.
She's gotta be kidding…She obeys, takes another one, and pops that one past smoky lips. And the routine continues till all the fruit is gone from the bowl. On the sideline, her brother is shaking from suppressed laughter.
She pushes away from the table and heads for the stairs. Her mother, always a few steps ahead of her, says, "Your bag is in the front room."
"Not my bag that I'm looking for." She replies as she makes her way to her room.
She takes the stairs three at a time, easing through the clean hall, and into the disaster itself that she calls a bedroom. She hunts through the mess, pushing clothing and fallen make-up out of her way as she goes along, yet comes up empty-handed.
She whirls around, storms into the hall, and nearly tramples her brother as she retraces her steps to the living room. Her brother, right behind her, snorts. "The one thing that will never change is the fact that you always where your odd costumes."
She levels a glare on him as she retorts, "It's not a costume, brother."
"It so is." He grins.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets as she continues towards her destination. She can hear him trailing her, snickering as he walks. A vein in her forehead throbs.
He's responsible for this…she casts a glance over her shoulder at him.
She pushes her way into the front room and around the mess. She twists between isles of boxes, dunks under swaying ones, and reminds herself that mom should never be the one to reorganize a move once they settle in. This is the result – a torn apart wreck instead of a house. Her eyes land on the object she desires moments later perched in their perfect glory next to the door with her bag resting against them.
There, resting against the wall, are her boots.
They reach mid-calf and the silver buckles on them shine from their daily polish. They are the one thing she treasures. She would rather go to school without shoes than go without her boots. A bonus to them would be the built-in support for ankles and arches.
She grins as she tugs them on, humming to herself as she does so, and pauses when she hears a light laugh from her mother. She turns.
"What?"
Her mother, standing next to the open arch that leads to the kitchen, is smiling as she says, "I see that you still wear those spandex shorts with your skirts."
Gwyn's face flushes a brilliant shade of red as she adjusts her skirt. She pauses for a moment, a smile creeping up to her face, and her gaze lands on the woman who bore her into this world.
"Of course I do, mother. I don't want to give some random guy a free show if I happen to fall." The laughter that comes in response comes from someone other than her mother. It comes from her grandmother.
The elderly woman comes into the room, an expression of amusement etched into her face. "I am happy to see that your sense of humor hasn't changed."
Then she sees that object in Granny's hands and she cocks her head to the side in curiosity. A bag of sorts, a backpack she assumes, rests firmly between the withered hands. It looks more like a suitcase with straps and an over flap than any school bag she has ever seen. It's black and, for a moment, she does not notice the small charm handing from the side.
Seeing her look, her grandmother says, "It's a good luck charm, dear."
"Good luck charm? For what?"
Her mother scolds her lightly as Granny continues, "Ye will see that Konoha is not your average town, dear. Anyway, ye are going to a new school. I thought ye would like it."
She observes the charm at a closer range and sees the little markings carved into the circle disk. She turns her attention to her grandmother, the smiling white haired woman, and smiles.
"Thanks."
Her grandmother nods, smile still intact.
With a sigh, Gwyn turns to the door of her new home.
"Do you want a ride?" she turns to her mother and shakes her head.
"Good. Now, my dear daughter, ye are going to fix my house. Ye destroyed it, after all."
