Days
"You know those things that get shorter in the winter…."
Days Part I
"Yeah, well waiting around for days doesn't improve my patience at all."
The voices arise. Arguing loudly, expressing their disgust. In the current situation. The two voices do not agree. They are also very loud. She wants to shut them out, her head hurts. And they're obviously not helping. She wants them to stop, now. But to do so she must open; open her eyes and open and move her own mouth to form the certain words necessary.
Bright. A blast of the power of such force blinds her temporarily. She regrets opening her delicate morning eyes, now that the light is so…...bright; blaring into them. It seems like that for a few moments before her eyes slowly and steadily adjust. She moans, and rather awkwardly wakes up. The girl wants to sit. So using her elbows she attempts to prop herself up. But it suddenly shears: The physical pain is awful and she winces. But she is glad she is up. Blinking her eyes, she surveys the two loud people in front of her.
She can't help but grin, just a little bit.
The sight of them almost makes her laugh. The height and muscular build of a friend standing next to the smaller and older more fragile build of the old man, old enough to practically be her great-great-great-grandpa. Physically at least. His appearance changed every day, and no one was sure why.
The child knows by now that that means he is cross.
"Riley!" Her grin is interrupted by an equally old looking woman coming into the room. Who immediately scowls when she looks at Riley. Riley shyly looks down at the blankets in the small white hospital bed she is laying in. She moves her orange-y red pony tail out of the Women's reach before she can comment upon it's vibrant-ness or perhaps unbrushable messy-ness.
The women walks over. To Riley, before she can talk the woman does.
"My dear gods, girl! What you did is foolish, stupid and reckless. Your lucky you even got out alive, and it's a wonder why they didn't damage you so! "
"Helena…!" Riley exclaimed happily. Glad to see the shelter's co-director. She awkwardly pats the physically old and frail woman's back. She knows the old women's a little too tight embrace will be the least of her problems right now.
When Helena finally let go, the older man steps forward. There is no warm welcome from him. Riley feels threatened, and ashamed at the daggers of his gaze upon her. Intimidated she shrinks back into her pillows. But forceful still, as she slowly and quickly daring sits up.
"Riley..." He says looking down on her. "Just tell me why."
She takes a breath. Something changes inside her. A fury. It builds like sticks adding to a fire.
"They took her..." She whispers. "They took Jenna!" She says louder. "They freaking kidnapped my little sister! I-I had to do something!" She is filled with rage, as each part of her slowly adds to it. A fire building up in her. Anger. She is angry at them, angry at the ones who took her younger sister.
Her anger is a challenge to him. He regards her with cold eyes. But he slowly realizes that what the child wants is a fight to prove her irrational point. To let him cave in and let her do something reckless.
What she doesn't want is sympathy.
"Look." Nick says, he bends down, to look Riley in the eyes. So, that he is parallel to her face. Riley, (Though rather annoyed) drops her stubborn boundry, and looks him in the eyes. Today they are blue, blue like the sky that soars above the sea. Riley thought, but then thought it silly. What did it matter to her of what the sea's color was?
"I know this angers you." He says. Riley glances away at his eyes, and clutches her fists tight around the blanket, so tight her knuckles turn snow white. "Don't deny it, you're angry about everything these days."
"I know." Riley responds, annoyed that she can't hide anything. Annoyed that people treat her this way. Annoyed that she's still just a kid. Just a stupid powerless kid. A stupid powerless child of hermes.
Nobody cared about kids who were children of hermes. Zeus, Hades, Posiodion, and Athena, and even sometimes Apollo, had children with such great talent. Nobody cared to look at the hermes kids, while the other child could control the elements, death, were smart, or had amazing talents, all she could do is steal things and not often get caught. If you were to ask Riley (And let me say, nobody often asked moody fifteen-year-old girls with red hair for their opinions on anything, it just wasn't something people did.) she'd always think it was just dumb and useless being a child of hermes. Why couldn't some other god have decided to hook up with her mother?
"I know I'm angry!" She says, letting out a string of swear words in different languages. "I'm effing angry at them because they effing took my little sister!" She screams the line, letting the echo bounce off the walls. It felt good, so good to just scream. let it all flow out, the anger, the yelling, the sheer hatred of life, and the world.
But then again, maybe it made no difference. Riley couldn't remember a time when she wasn't angry at something. She realized that her anger had always just been there. Like an old friend, a comfort, a place she could put the blame. It was a simple matter. Easy.
But just because it was easy, didn't necessarily mean it was right.
No, it didn't, of course it didn't. Things like this never did. It was morals you were supposed to agree with and live by. Done, and said. So why didn't she? The fifteen-year-old pondered this a bit, and then gave up.
She realized she just didn't have the energy to care enough.
Days part II
"You know that feeling when you've been waiting for someone, for like ever, and then they finally show up?
Yeah, well that feeling just really pisses me off. "
Let me tell you one thing. I've never been a morning person. Waking up to the spring breeze, and the birds squawking loudly, is not what I call fun. Heck, whether it's morning or not, if you wake me up, you're getting one grumpy red headed Riley that's out to get you.
In other words, just don't do it.
Which is how the third worst day of my life happened. (Yes, I know it's rather sad that I keep track.) It all started with when I woke up (If the paragraphs above didn't give you a clue) to two people screaming and yelling at one another. The fact that I was in pain, honestly wasn't helping either. I don't know if waking up and feeling as if ninety-nine point nine percent of the bones in your body are broken has happened to you, and if it has then you know exactly what I'm talking about (Lucky you!) and you know it feels like absoulute crap.
Then again, if I hadn't been feeling too much like absolute crap, I probably would've strangled Nick and Ethan on the spot for waking me up. Well maybe not Nick, in fact definately not Nick. Trying to argue with Nick is like committing suicide, here at the shelter. I've always felt for the newbies that didn't know it, and decided to negociate with him. After that they learn what not to do rather quickly I suppose.
To sum it up:
Riley's tips to dealing with crap #1: Don't pick fights with Nick, he has a tendency to win.
However Ethan's another story. If Ethan's the sun, then I'm the moon. If Ethan's penut butter, then I'm jelly. We're just like that, I guess you could call us friends
Before you start on it, Ethan and I are just friends. Not boyfriend girlfriend or anything like that. Just. Friends. Got that? Okay, good. Because the thoguht of even going on a simple date with Ethan makes me want to retch. (Which also isn't fun, just saying.)
Anyway, back to it, Ethan's my best pal. We've known each other the majority of our lives. There's not many memories I possess that don't have Ethan or Jenna in them.
Jenna...
Oh Jenna.
Little poor, scared Jenna.
I miss you.
I hate to be a party pooper, but for a minute I was seriously grumpy. Grumpy as in, getting woke up at three AM grumpy. Except it wasn't three AM. In fact I'm not even sure what time it was. It looked to be early noon, or late morning. Maybe 12:00 or 1:00? Not that the time mattered.
As I looked closer I actually felt myself smile. Ethan's a got a good three feet on Nick. And looks strong and muscular (compared to a frail old man, I'm not giving him THAT much glory quite yet) The two were obviously arguing. And by the look of it Ethan was losing the argument. Which, as much as I hate to admit it, was obviously no surprise.
But suddenly Ethan turns around. And our eyes meet. He cracks that goofy childish smile that I know so well. It is a grin only for me. Me. His best friend.
"Riley!" He gasps. Just as I'm about to respond. To express my (If Ethan knew what I was about to say, he'd never let me live it up) relief and joy that nothing bad happened while I had left the place. AKA a place where the gods dump there half mortal- half god children. Call our toll free number today if this qualifies you.
But suddenly arms get flung around me.
Riley's tips to dealing with crap number two: If an old lady hugs you, no matter how bad you think you are, don't push them away. Especially if it's Helena.
Helena holds me in her arms for a moment, I don't care about what's she's saying (If she's saying anything important) because I can't hear it. I'm too relieved. Relieved just to be back here. I've never really been a hug-y person. But all the crap that had been going on in my life these last few days. My sister being taken, my plan to get her back failing, and resulting in broken bones. That hug actually felt good.
I mean, Helena was strong, but not like painful strong. If that makes any sense at all.
When Helena finally lets go, Nick steps forward. I swear I swallow so loud everyone can hear it, my heart beats, I'll bet everyone in the room can hear that too. Just under his gaze do I feel like I'm shrinking several sizes.
"Riley..." he demands. "Just tell me why." Crap. I'm pretty sure his question isn't rhetorical.
Riley's tips to dealing with crap number three: When arguing/attempting to argue with someone, try and make sure if their questions are rhetorical or not. It might save you time in the long run.
His question stops me in my tracks.
Why, why did I do it?
I begin to think of all the reasons I did it, and it was clear what I did it for: Jenna. It makes sense to me, at least. I mean, they kidnapped her. My own, little sister. I had only been trying to get her back. Somehow this doesn't convince him, none of his words do. I embrace myself, surely this would sadden me, but no it doesn't. The anger I've felt for millennia's just grows a bit stronger in this moment.
He then tells me something. Something I've known for, I guess the majority of my life: I'm angry, Angry at everything, and angry at nothing.
Instead of yelling at me, he bends down. He looks me in the eyes.
Somehow this pisses me off. But then again, there are many things that piss me off. (Riley's tips to dealing with crap number four: When something pisses you off, avoid it as much as possible. Thats what I do at least, and look how far I've gotten in life. I'm laying in a hospital cot, with an old guy lecturing me. Put that on your college resume.)
For a sacred few seconds that feel like an hour Nick doesn't speak he just looks me in the eyes. I never noticed that Nick's eyes were actually blue. I always thought that they changed with every form he took. But now as I think to it, ever since I first came to the shelter. They were always there, watching Jenna and I. Those mysterious guarded blue eyes, just as they watched over all the other half-bloods.
At the time I was ten, and currently modeling a broken arm. While Jenna at age eight, was more shy and secluded. Even though she may of been much too big for it. Nick took her by the hand, like a parental figure and just led her around. Letting her take it easy, and just soak everything in. I remember, at first Jenna wouldn't speak. And when she shyly asked him her first question, her bent down to her level. So their eyes were parallel. I guess I must've been staring or something, but he caught me eye, and smiled at me.
I think that must've been the first time I actually grinned in a long time.
But what I remember from then were that, his eyes were blue. Like legit blue, like they were now. It was kinda odd, in my whole five years (And counting) at the shelter I jsut had never really noticed.
After the treacherus seconds are up. He finally does let out a sound. A simple sigh. He shuts his eyes for just a moment, and then opens them. He speaks two words, and between us there is nothing more to be said. It is all there really is needed. But they infuriate me enough.
"I'm sorry."
Simple words don't mean a lot to me.
They just come and go, through and through
The loneliness of the night.
And the daylights that are far too bright.
Say, what did the sky look like?
I've forgotten how to see.
Can you tell me what words sound like?
I've forgotten how to hear.
Can you tell me about, the treacherous, winter snow?
I've forgotten how to feel.
And can you tell me how it feels with your arms around me tight?
I've forgotten how to love.
Most chapters won't have as much first person, because I don't really think I'm that good at writing first person. I like using third person, and sometimes what people call second (I know there are many names for it, but it's like "You slowly stand up, and slowly turn around around to face me" like "You" is the subject matter) person. I know somethings may still be foggy and hazy, but they'll clear up soon enough. But thanks for reading this far! This was really difficult to write, so I apologize if it's crappy. I swear most of my writing isn't this crappy.
-SS
