"I'm coming!" I said, standing on my tippie-toes to reach the doorknob. When I opened the door, I was surprised to see that skinny boy from next door, the one who had just moved into the house across the field last weekend. Neither me or granny had met any of them yet, though she swore that the father looked like one of her old drinking pals. The boy was almost sobbing, while trying to quickly wipe away his tears.
"What's wrong?" I asked, hoping to help if I could.
"M-my b-brother, he-he's m-missing!" the boy wailed, falling to the floor, tears flowing freely down his face. I put my arm around him, hoping to provide some comfort to him, but he shrugged it away stubbornly. He tried to speak again, but his words were unintelligible. I gave him a blanket and left to get him some hot chocolate, then maybe it would help him settle down.
I grabbed a chair and placed it near the stove, hopping on and pouring milk in the kettle. Very carefully, I turned on one of the burners, and set the kettle down on it. As I went to get off the stool, my foot slipped, and my hand instinctively went to anything I could grab onto. Unfortunately, that certain thing was the now hot burner, and I cried out in surprise.
"Are you all right?" the boy yelled as he ran into the kitchen, only to find me cradling my scalded hand. The kettle had fallen to the floor, pouring hot milk all over Granny's tiles. Blanket forgotten, eyes puffy, shirt wrinkled and wet, he looked pretty funny. I forgot my injury and burst out laughing at the sight of this skinny kid, all disheveled, like he just got out of bed.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I giggled, wiping a stray tear off my cheek.
"Good," he said, smiling big.
"Well, so much for hot chocolate," I muttered, looking at the spilled milk. But at least he stopped crying, I thought.
"Eh, I never liked milk anyways. Here, I'll help you clean up," he said as he reluctantly took a rag out of the linen closet, and began cleaning up the spilled milk, groaning the entire time about how disgusting it was. When they were finished cleaning up, we sat on my couch together, and I decided it was time to interrogate him.
"Ok, so you don't know where your brother is," I began, looking him full on.
"Yeah, we were playing hide and go seek in the field (Don't ask me how they did this…) and it was his turn to hide, but I couldn't find him even after an hour. I decided to come here to see if he had gotten tired and asked to come in, but obviously, he's not here. So he's either still in the field or he went back to our house. Or he fell in the river, or in a hole," he theorized . I realized that he was smart. I knew I couldn't have figured that out in a few minutes.
"Well, we'll have to go back and check," I said, hopping off the sofa, him following. Just before we got out the door, I turned to him and asked, "Oh, by the way, you never told me your name."
He reddened a bit when I smiled and looked down. "Edward Elric," he mumbled, "but most people call me Ed."
"Well, Ed, we better go find your brother before it rains." I said, beginning to walk away, when he caught my arm.
"Wait! You haven't told me your name," he pointed out.
I'm Winry, Winry Rockbell," I answered, sliding out of his feeble grasp and skipping away.
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How was it? Good for an opening chapter??? Muhahahaha, many more to come. I've always wondered how Winry and Ed first met, and I thought up this. Short and sweet, for an opening chapter. Oh, and Btw, the last sentence is very symbolic. Muhahahaha!
XOXOX~edwardxwinry-3