Part one
It was raining. It was always raining. Nature wept endlessly over the city that had brutally murdered her children and cast them out, replacing forest and field with concrete high rise and thousands of miles of tarmac. Her tears fell relentlessly in the sodium glare as if trying to drown mankind in sorrow. You needn't bother, Geneve thought, watching the rain through thick glasses and her window on the fourth floor of a downtown apartment block; we always find ways to drown ourselves.
In answer to that thought, she heard the front door crash open. Her sister was back, drunk, unsurprisingly. Their mother's shouting started almost immediately, swearing at Tai to be quiet, because apparently some people were trying to sleep. Geneve wondered who they were; her mother had been downing pills in front of the TV for hours, she knew, more likely to pass out than try to sleep. She tried to ignore the argument and turn her attention back to her book, but reading in bad light and the endless pounding rain had given her a splitting headache, and she was too cold and too tired to concentrate. Eventually she gave up and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her ears to block out some of the incoherent yelling from the kitchen, and waited for the morning.
It was raining as Geneve ran home from school the next day, saving her bus fare for a better use. As she pounded up the stairs and along the dingy corridor she left a trail of water like a small river, but there was little chance her mother would even notice. Tai looked up as she shoved the front door open and threw her bag down with a certain amount of violence.
"Where have you been?"
"School," Geneve replied. "Like every day."
"How was it?"
"It's slowly driving me to suicide. How's your hangover?"
"Don't ask." Tai groaned theatrically to emphasise the point.
Geneve investigated the kitchen cupboards, mostly empty, and the freezer, which had a few microwaveable meals. She selected a lasagna.
"Why do you drink so much if it makes you ill?" she asked.
"Why do you read so much if it makes you blind," Tai retorted. "And then you have to wear those glasses and be even uglier than you already were?"
"No, that's masturbation that makes you blind. Ask your boyfriend about it."
"Bitch!" Tai slapped her, not quite hard enough to provoke a response, and took the lasagna out of the microwave. Geneve glared at her sister and put another one on.
"Mum's gone out," Tai said, unnecessarily.
"She's at work."
"How do you know?"
"I don't spend all my time face down in a pint glass. It's Friday, that means she's at work."
"It's Friday already? Shit!" Tai flopped down on the sofa, taking up all of it. "Make us a cup of tea, Nev."
The younger sister sighed and put the kettle on.
"You going out tonight?"
"Yeah. You couldn't lend us a bit of cash, could you?"
"Sorry, you don't pay it back."
"Bitch."
"Get a job."
"I won't need one soon. Josh's getting a car, and we're going to leave this miserable city."
"Sure you are. Send me a postcard from the moon when you get there."
"We are!"
"Whatever." Geneve handed her a cup of tea. "I'm going to do some work." She picked up her bag and went into her room, closing the door. Fishing out a tin from under her bed, she added her bus fare and unspent lunch money to what was already there and counted it. She had enough.
Geneve watched the rain crashing down on the windows of the café as she served up greasy chips and sugary drinks through Saturday. The customers were soaked and bad tempered, and their mood had infected her colleagues. Shannyn snapped out orders and seized on every opportunity to criticize the teenage waitresses, who flinched every time she spoke and scurried to do her bidding, aware that there were not many places left that would employ underage staff and desperate to keep their meager wages. Geneve nailed a smile to her face and shrugged off the comments and stares thrown her way as the others did.
At five, she clocked out, pulled on her coat and headed out into the rain. Although she kept her head down and ran, she was drenched before she'd got across the road, and by the time she reached her destination the rain was running out of her hair and dripping into her eyes. She pushed open the door of the shop and had to wipe her glasses clear before looking around. "Can I help you? Geneve! You're soaked!"
Geneve turned to the owner of the shop and smiled. "Hey Lannah. Just thought I'd come and say hi."
"Always welcome. How was work?"
"Greasy."
Lannah laughed. "I hope you washed your hands then. Are you buying today?"
"I reckon I can afford it."
"Glad to hear it. You're the only kid in this damn town knows how to read. What can I do you for?"
"I don't know. Suggest something."
"You read fantasy, don't you? Dragons and elves and shit."
"Yeah."
"Ever read Tolkien?"
"Who?"
"Lord of the Rings, classic of the genre."
"How much?"
"For you, twenty."
"Twenty?!"
"It's three books in one; this is a hefty tome. It'll keep you going for a whole week. You want it?"
"Is it any good?"
"It's fantastic."
"Yeah, I'll take it. Cheers, Lannah."
"Anytime."
Geneve stowed the precious book inside her coat and ran home. When she arrived at the tiny flat, the inevitable fight between Tai and her mother was already well underway, one drunk and the other stoned. She slipped unnoticed into her room and started to read. The fight raged on. When it got dark, she moved to the window and read by the light of the streetlamps and passing cars. Eventually, Tai stormed out, and her mother shouted a few more insults after her, before switching on the TV and feeding herself with more drugs. Geneve kept reading.
Outside, the sky still wept.
It was raining. It was always raining. Nature wept endlessly over the city that had brutally murdered her children and cast them out, replacing forest and field with concrete high rise and thousands of miles of tarmac. Her tears fell relentlessly in the sodium glare as if trying to drown mankind in sorrow. You needn't bother, Geneve thought, watching the rain through thick glasses and her window on the fourth floor of a downtown apartment block; we always find ways to drown ourselves.
In answer to that thought, she heard the front door crash open. Her sister was back, drunk, unsurprisingly. Their mother's shouting started almost immediately, swearing at Tai to be quiet, because apparently some people were trying to sleep. Geneve wondered who they were; her mother had been downing pills in front of the TV for hours, she knew, more likely to pass out than try to sleep. She tried to ignore the argument and turn her attention back to her book, but reading in bad light and the endless pounding rain had given her a splitting headache, and she was too cold and too tired to concentrate. Eventually she gave up and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her ears to block out some of the incoherent yelling from the kitchen, and waited for the morning.
It was raining as Geneve ran home from school the next day, saving her bus fare for a better use. As she pounded up the stairs and along the dingy corridor she left a trail of water like a small river, but there was little chance her mother would even notice. Tai looked up as she shoved the front door open and threw her bag down with a certain amount of violence.
"Where have you been?"
"School," Geneve replied. "Like every day."
"How was it?"
"It's slowly driving me to suicide. How's your hangover?"
"Don't ask." Tai groaned theatrically to emphasise the point.
Geneve investigated the kitchen cupboards, mostly empty, and the freezer, which had a few microwaveable meals. She selected a lasagna.
"Why do you drink so much if it makes you ill?" she asked.
"Why do you read so much if it makes you blind," Tai retorted. "And then you have to wear those glasses and be even uglier than you already were?"
"No, that's masturbation that makes you blind. Ask your boyfriend about it."
"Bitch!" Tai slapped her, not quite hard enough to provoke a response, and took the lasagna out of the microwave. Geneve glared at her sister and put another one on.
"Mum's gone out," Tai said, unnecessarily.
"She's at work."
"How do you know?"
"I don't spend all my time face down in a pint glass. It's Friday, that means she's at work."
"It's Friday already? Shit!" Tai flopped down on the sofa, taking up all of it. "Make us a cup of tea, Nev."
The younger sister sighed and put the kettle on.
"You going out tonight?"
"Yeah. You couldn't lend us a bit of cash, could you?"
"Sorry, you don't pay it back."
"Bitch."
"Get a job."
"I won't need one soon. Josh's getting a car, and we're going to leave this miserable city."
"Sure you are. Send me a postcard from the moon when you get there."
"We are!"
"Whatever." Geneve handed her a cup of tea. "I'm going to do some work." She picked up her bag and went into her room, closing the door. Fishing out a tin from under her bed, she added her bus fare and unspent lunch money to what was already there and counted it. She had enough.
Geneve watched the rain crashing down on the windows of the café as she served up greasy chips and sugary drinks through Saturday. The customers were soaked and bad tempered, and their mood had infected her colleagues. Shannyn snapped out orders and seized on every opportunity to criticize the teenage waitresses, who flinched every time she spoke and scurried to do her bidding, aware that there were not many places left that would employ underage staff and desperate to keep their meager wages. Geneve nailed a smile to her face and shrugged off the comments and stares thrown her way as the others did.
At five, she clocked out, pulled on her coat and headed out into the rain. Although she kept her head down and ran, she was drenched before she'd got across the road, and by the time she reached her destination the rain was running out of her hair and dripping into her eyes. She pushed open the door of the shop and had to wipe her glasses clear before looking around. "Can I help you? Geneve! You're soaked!"
Geneve turned to the owner of the shop and smiled. "Hey Lannah. Just thought I'd come and say hi."
"Always welcome. How was work?"
"Greasy."
Lannah laughed. "I hope you washed your hands then. Are you buying today?"
"I reckon I can afford it."
"Glad to hear it. You're the only kid in this damn town knows how to read. What can I do you for?"
"I don't know. Suggest something."
"You read fantasy, don't you? Dragons and elves and shit."
"Yeah."
"Ever read Tolkien?"
"Who?"
"Lord of the Rings, classic of the genre."
"How much?"
"For you, twenty."
"Twenty?!"
"It's three books in one; this is a hefty tome. It'll keep you going for a whole week. You want it?"
"Is it any good?"
"It's fantastic."
"Yeah, I'll take it. Cheers, Lannah."
"Anytime."
Geneve stowed the precious book inside her coat and ran home. When she arrived at the tiny flat, the inevitable fight between Tai and her mother was already well underway, one drunk and the other stoned. She slipped unnoticed into her room and started to read. The fight raged on. When it got dark, she moved to the window and read by the light of the streetlamps and passing cars. Eventually, Tai stormed out, and her mother shouted a few more insults after her, before switching on the TV and feeding herself with more drugs. Geneve kept reading.
Outside, the sky still wept.