Another sluggish day in the suburbs.
The smog that cloaked the not-so-far-off city was just visible from the verandah which the sun alighted to the east. Light bounced off the metal-and-glass buildings, sending shards of light dancing off in every which way -- or so the girl imagined, since the smog hid most everything except the brightest from the naked eye. She leaned against the railing, her headphones pumping a steady stream of music into her eardrums with the consistency of a well-used vending machine.
This new house wasn't so bad. There'd been worse places, she thought, though she couldn't think of them at the moment. The sun still rose in the east, set in the west, and they were far enough away from the city that the stars were still visible. Their house was cozy, to quote her mother, which pretty much meant it was small. 'But perfect for a family of three.' Another quote from her mom. Yeesh, these days all her mother was was optimistic phrases and empty promises. Not a good combination, but Kirelan didn't complain. There could be worse people to have for a mom. She grimaced. Darn optimist gene.
Though it didn't really matter whether this house was nice or bad or in between, they wouldn't be here for long, maybe a year – tops. So needless to say Kirelan wasn't exactly doing so great in the friendship area. She never stayed long enough to get to know anyone, and after a while, she stopped trying to. After all, why get close to someone when you're going to leave anyway? Or at least, that's what she'd say to her mom with a shrug when she wanted to needle and guilt her. Which seemed to become more and more often she noticed without a clue as to how to explain why.
Shaking her head as if that would free her from that trail of thought, she switched her mind to a more pressing matter. Well, not exactly pressing, but a less. . . guilty topic. This 'pressing topic' being the strange dreams she'd been having as of late.
Her right hand tapped an unconscious rhythm as the other hand thumbed an accompaniment; very-blue eyes remained distant, trapped in far-off thoughts -- even as distant waves mumbled, the cries of the gulls faint and feeble from the other side of the city. She brushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her eyes, nose scrunched up in the effort of concentration as she clung to the fleeting dream. Something about a door and . . . A boy . . . Kirelan grasped at the rest, straining to gain sense from it all.
In the house behind her, something crashed down the stairs and tiny feet pounded after it, the owner of said feet whooping with joy. Her concentration shattered, the dream slipped through her figurative fingers, she sighed gustily. Not again. This was the fifth time she'd had that sort of dream, ever since she'd noticed the weird drawing on the old iron-wrought lamppost just across the street from her house the week before.
Of course, telling anyone this would be a waste of time. After all, the only people she could tell were either her mom or Trevon – and only the latter of the two would actually listen; he was also seven years old and thus found everything his older sister said interesting and important. With Kirelan being eight years older, to him she was the equivalent of a superhero, or an alien –those of which he was convinced lived in the pantry and were constant companions of his- she was leaning more towards being a superhero, something about the green skin and buggy eyes didn't appeal to her. For whatever weird reason.
Kirelan gave up on the dream, resolving to be content with waiting for it to come back again tonight. Maybe she would remember it next time, after all, it kept getting clearer and clearer each time, and every time she got closer to the opening of the door and who the boy with the bright eyes and giant key was. She kept her randomly appeared excitement in check. She really wanted, no, she needed to see what was on the other side of the door. For whatever reason her chest had been growing tight with anticipation over the days as the dream grew clearer, something was coming. She knew it.
"Kiri!!" Something small and bony climbed, monkey-like onto the teenager's back, wrapping thin arms around her neck as his legs folded themselves around her torso. She turned off her music and let her headpnones slide from her ears. "g'mornin'!" He chirped, bird-like in her ear. Kirelan grinned, tucking his legs under her arms as she stomped around the deck, making sure to bounce and jostle the squeaking seven-year-old.
Romping around the deck with him, Kirelan was all smile, despite her and her brother's age difference, they were very close. So close, in fact, that they were one another's closest thing to a best friend. Even though Trevon was the opposite of Kirelan and made friends everywhere they went, be it fast food restaurants, playgrounds or grocery stores. And none of his friends were ever limited to his age group. Actually, most were much older than him. Kirelan used to be the same way, but recently she'd just been isolating herself from the rest of the world. Or so her mom told all the school counselors since a year ago.
A stray wind rushed through the neighborhood, ruffling Trevon's dark mop of hair and Kirelan's own in one swoop. The horse-play halted, and they watched it rush away, silence prevailing. Something about
that wind was strange, different. And both the teenager and child knew, in their own ways, something was happening. Good or bad was unsure. The only thing that was sure was that it was something. And it was going to happen. No matter what.
"Kiri, Trev! Breakfast time!"
Brother and sister shared a glance, matching blue eyes acknowledging before the younger pair's owner squirmed free of Kirelan's grip and bounded into the house, shouting something about aliens liking pancakes too. The girl followed, a smirk playing across her lips, it was probably nothing. Just a bunch of coincidences. After all, nothing happened to normal people. Or weird people for that matter, she noted as she watched Trevon dance around the kitchen trying to shove a piece of bacon into his mouth with a empty fishbowl on his head.
Kirelan munched her own bacon quietly, making a point not to converse with her mother past a murmured 'thanks' when she'd received her plate. She wanted her to know that she wasn't very happy about this arraignment, but was also determined not to complain. Her mom didn't try to break the silence, instead letting Trevon's babble outshine the radio that sang a fuzzy countenance to the youngster's sing-song voice.
Sliding down from the bar stool, the teen took her plate to the sink and handed it to her mother. The silence between them the uncomfortable sort as the woman gingerly took it from her daughter, her eyes sad and lips tight. Kirelan felt a tinge of guilt as she saw that, after all, mom was all she and Trevon had. And she was doing her best.
"Do you. . . need a ride to school, hun?" Her mom asked, without even a quiver to her voice. Kirelan shook her head in reply as she glanced at the clock. Trevon danced around the kitchen, as usual.
"No, it's not far, and I can walk Trev to class easy." Kirelan's mother nodded slowly, drying the suds and grease from her hands with a raggedy towl that had long ago lost it's original coloring, her eyes gaining a notch of sadness. "And you need to go to work, anyway." The girl added.
Kirelan ushered Trevon to get his socks and shoes as she deftly tied his lunch box to his backpack. Her mom made her way to the door, shouldering her overflowing purse as she gave Kirelan the same speech she'd
always given on her first days of school. Make sure Trevon gets to class. Don't forget to get his homework. Make sure he wears his shoes on the right feet, have a wonderful day at school and I'll be home late so just warm up the mac n' cheese form last night. Be in bed by ten too, ect, ect, ect.
"Okay, okay mom. We're not new at this, ya'know." Kirelan replied with an eye roll. Her mother bit her lip and stared at her daughter sadly. Trevon raced between them, yelling something about a missing sock.
"I know, I know." Her mother said and caught Trevon on his second pass to kiss him on the nose and wish him a good day at school. Kirelan shifted her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable as her mom turned and left, but not before snatching the keys that hung from a peg on the wall. "Bye Kiri, by Trevon, Love you." She called.
"Love you mommy!" Trevon yelled back as he shot past Kirelan again. But Kirelan herself was silent, unreachable. Just as she always was when her mother uprooted them to move to someplace far away. Nothing was ever the same when they moved. Except the fact that they rode the same train and that Kirelan always fell asleep and awoke when they got there. If she didn't know any better Kirelan would've thought that the new places were in fact new worlds. But that would be ridiculus. Kirelan turned her back on the door. Guilt tugging at her heartstrings.
Trevon rushed past again, hysterical over the loss of his sock. Kirelan sighed and found his missing sock with the ease of someone that had experienced many first days. Those of which she had experienced more than most.