Sunlight was filtering through the stained-glass windows of the church, throwing delicate colours on the wooden floor that three teens were scrubbing away at. The youngest-looking, a girl with long, white hair, sighed as she came upon yet another footprint.
"Rosette, you stepped in a wet patch again."
"Yeah, well, everywhere's wet! Where am I meant to step?" Rosette asked, giving her a mock angry look, "besides, if it weren't for my kind offer of help, a third of this church would still be filthy!"
Their other companion, a young boy, slapped his forehead.
"It's your fault we're here in the first place! If you hadn't, Sister Kate's bookshelf..." he trailed off, seeing the glint in Rosette's eye. Rosette then smirked.
"Well that's fine then, isn't it?" With that, she picked up the soap she was using and rubbed it into his purple hair.
"Oh! Rosette! You're mean!" cried the other girl, and tossed her sponge at the cackling nun.
Rosette gasped as the cold water hit her face, soapy water trickling into her mouth.
"That's it!" she cried, picking up the sponge and giving her attacker a death glare. She looked mortified, her hands at her mouth. Then burst into laughter when Rosette made a bubble while talking. Rosette hurled the sponge at her head, her aim perfect. She ducked, and instead it flew into the face of the boy. Rosette roared with laughter as he sloshed water onto the white-haired girl.
"What was that for?" she cried, picking up the sponge.
"You weren't wet yet, " he replied, grinning.
The water fight that ensued somehow made the church dirtier than when they began, and Rosette didn't even seem to mind the fact they would have to wash it again. Laughing, she lay on the wet floor with her friends, enjoying the moment. The girl was laughing exuberantly, while the boy sighed, looking at his damp braid. Rosette punched him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry!" she said, grinning, "when Sister Kate puts us on gardening for this, it'll dry in no time!"
He smiled, that warm, happy smile she loved.
"Thanks -Rosette!" The last word wasn't his voice. Nor was it near the volume his voice was. But Rosette knew it anyway. She groaned.
"Come on! Wake up Rosette!" The cheerful voice of her brother jerked her up off the pillows. Her nice, comfy pillows. On her big, soft bed with it's warm, lovely blankets. Wake up? Nah.
Rosette gave a contented sigh as she flopped back down in bed, ignoring Joshua's renewed attempts to get her up. He growled when she rolled over, completely covering her face from the window he'd just opened.
"Fine, you're asking for it." Joshua left her room, his footsteps fading almost instantly. Rosette laughed, but a strange feeling was pulling at her. Anxiousness. Why was she anxious? Rosette wondered. Sighing into her pillow, she put it down to the fact it was Monday, and she had French first thing. Seriously, bonjour, tu tapelle comment? Blah blah blah. It was all gibberish to her. French, had to be it.
Rosette shrieked as icy water was dumped all over her head. Sitting bolt upright, she locked her furious gaze on her brother, standing beside her bed clutching a bucket. And grinning from ear-to-ear.
"You." said Rosette quietly, swinging her legs out, "are. Dead." Joshua took the hint and scurried out as fast as he could, Rosette charging behind him. Upon reaching the bathroom, however, she took a detour and screeched, "Mum! Joshua doused me!" Slamming the door behind her, she snatched up a towel and dried herself thoroughly. She then stood for several minutes, pondering over the perfect murder weapon for her dear little brother.
Joshua's eyes widened as Rosette stepped into his room, armed with a hairy brush and very, very dated tea tree shampoo. The stuff their mum used when there was a lice epidemic at their primary school years ago.
"What's that smell?" Rosette smiled sweetly at her mother's question.
"Nothing, Mum," she said, stuffing waffles into her mouth at an unbelievable pace. Joshua smiled nervously, picking at his own food. Their mother raised her eyebrows over this, but decided to say nothing of it. Yet. She really didn't like the way Joshua had his hair this morning.
"Ahh!" Rosette slapped her full stomach, "thanks Mum!"
"You're welcome, honey," she replied, handing her her schoolbag, "now you two should get going, you'll be late otherwise."
"Oh yeah, I'd hate to miss French and get a horrible detention," Rosette lamented, ignoring an uncomfortable squirm in her gut. She knew it wasn't the detention she'd probably get anyway, late or no, it had to be the French lesson waiting for her.
"Well, you can't call that scrubbing business fun, Rosette," her mother said gently, "Mr. Lambden was very upset."
"Yeah, you had soap everywhere!" Joshua giggled. Rosette growled and yanked him off his seat, collecting his schoolbag on the way out.
Still, even as she yawned in the passenger seat as her brother made his slow way to school, she couldn't shake of the feeling in her stomach, twisting and writhing as her body worried over some unknown thing.
Nah, it was school.
It had to be school, right?