Okay, I know I never update and I'm sorry...but please still read and review!!!
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Sierra was hyperventilating. Well, not really. Her hands were shaking and she was red as a tomato. Her breath was coming in and out so fast anyone might have thought she was hyperventilating. Plan, plan, oh god I need a plan, she gasped to herself. Her mind raced, and she was almost unable to form a coherent thought. She shivered, but not from cold. From heat. There was a mind numbing heat emanating from Clark; or maybe not from Clark. Maybe from herself. Either way, it was becoming difficult to breath. All at once, Sierra hated this man for making her lose it. She hated him and she wanted to show him that. Her mind slowly stopped racing, and her face became pale once again. Plan…
Sierra allowed herself one wicked grin before wiping her face blank, replacing it with and intense look. Nonchalantly, she put down her magazine, placed her chin in her hand with her elbow on her knee, and fixed Clark in a hard stare. For a full five minutes she stared, her burning orange eyes never leaving his icy blue ones. She could see him squirm. Clark coughed and looked away. Sierra grinned in victory as she rose from her chair, straightening herself in a very dignified manner. Her smile was sadistic and dazzling at the same time, and Clark watched his sister in wonder. She sauntered to the front door.
"Mom, I'm going for a walk." She called to Martha. "I already ate."
"Alright…I'll save you a little cornbread though!" Martha answered. Cornbread was Sierra's favorite. Sierra grinned again, waving to Clark as one would to a toddler.
"See you later, then." Clark said curtly, his face no longer as red as it had been. Sierra rolled her eyes and slammed the door as she left.
The outdoors amazed Sierra. She had lived in the city before she got adopted, and it had always been smoggy and noisy there. Here in the country it was so open and clear. She loved the cornfields the best. It seemed like the greatest thing to her to run through them and get lost for hours and hours. She would lay in the soft dirt and the sweet smelling corn stalks and sleep. But right now Sierra was mad. She didn't want to go somewhere to sleep. She actually felt like punching something. Sierra leapt from the porch and hit the ground running. She heard a dog bark loudly and suddenly a yellow lab puppy was running beside her. Martha had never told Sierra what the dogs' name was, so she just called him Dax. He was a year or two old she guessed; a juvenile. He was fun to play with. They ran together all around the farm, scattering chickens and jumping over anything in their path. Dax barked and nipped at Sierra's heels, following her like a devoted best friend. Gradually they became tired, and Sierra plopped down in the dust to rest. Dax came to a stop beside her, wriggling and panting, watching to see if they would run some more. When Sierra didn't get up, Dax laid down, his honey colored fur gleaming with sweat. His side went up and down in a comfortable beat and his tongue lolled out. Sierra stared at him as she scratched his belly. He seemed so content. She laid down beside the dog; he licked her face. The setting sun beat down on the girl and dog, drenching them in its red-golden brilliance. Sierra scratched her knee, turned to her dog, and looked him directly in his brown eyes.
"Well, do you think I should be nicer to Clark?"