Thank you for the review(s)!
To "i": I'm aware to not use bold and italics, but I felt it prudent to in the case of the three girls, dream sequences and thoughts. Originally the bold words, with exception (to the girls) had just been capitalized, but I preferred this way better. Thank you so much for your feedback. I went back to switch out a few of the punctuation marks that didn't quite fit as you had mentioned.
As always, read and review, I want to know what you guys think, even if it's just "good".
Now, lets meet Persephone, shall we?
Chapter 4: Dumbfounded
Paige Foster is abruptly jerked out of her bed, crashing onto the floor in a pile of limbs, pillows and blankets before blearily looking up at her mother's irritated face. It was going to be a lovely start to her weekend, she could feel it deep in her bones.
"Nnngghh... for real, Ma? It's a Saturday," whines Paige, blinking a few times to try and bring her world back into focus.
All progress made is lost immediately when her mother opens both the curtains and the blinds to let the sunlight filter in as it instantly warms the room and subsequently robs the young woman of her sight for a few moments longer.
"Saturday, yes, and it's also noon! Plants don't take days off. Go take care of them," her mother replies as she strides out of her daughter's room, signifying the end of the discussion.
Slowly, Paige rises from the floor and drags herself into the bathroom, groaning loud enough to make sure it carries downstairs; contenting herself with irritating her mother in whatever manner she could get away with. As she lazily kicks her clothes into the hamper, she turns on the shower and proceeds to hop in. She wastes no time, quickly bathing and haphazardly trying to multitask; she forces a brush through her still-lathered hair with one hand, and a bath pouf is utilized in the other for the rest of her body. Her toothbrush hangs partway from her mouth, forgotten. Once finished, she briskly dries herself off as she continues brushing her teeth and tries to tie back her unruly hair; her hairbrush laying on the floor of the shower in neglect. Relinquishing the fight to do anything with her dark locks, she focuses instead on donning the appropriate undergarments before pulling on a simple, dark red sundress that fades into purple. Giving herself the briefest of glances in the mirror, Paige lets out a small huff of annoyance at her appearance, but doesn't permit herself to worry any further over her looks.
She rushes down the stairs. Blowing right past the kitchen, she startles her mother again as she grabs an apple from the dining room table and carelessly stuffs it in her mouth. The moment her hands are free, apple held firmly in place by her teeth, she dashes to make a grab for her sandals. She then waves enthusiastically at her mother before snatching the keys to the car and wastes not a single second more than needed. She struggles to put on her sandals, hopping on her right foot as she tugs the left one on. Switching feet, she trips to the door, but manages to get the second sandal on before bounding outside and into the field.
Now, Paige adored this field and the cottage since the very moment she and her mother laid eyes upon it. Sometimes she felt truly bewildered by the connection she felt toward the land and the feelings of peace it instilled in her. There was just no describing it. The realtor explained all about the previous owner's obsession with cultivating that land and how quickly it grew in popularity before he finally retired. After looking through so many different houses; bigger ones, far more modern as well, there wasn't any way she and her mother would pass this one up. They purchased it nearly the same day they saw it. That was nearly thirteen years ago; thus far the longest she and her mother had ever stayed in one place.
Paige never had an issue making things grow and had a knack for it before she could even talk. There was precious little that she loved more than tending to various flowers, fruits and anything else she had managed to entertain in her previous gardens, but this field was huge. She could and had planted many things, uprooting some of the duller flowers and replacing them with her narcissus and a few of her other favorites. Unfortunately, since starting her first year of college, it had become more of a chore than a joy to maintain. Doing so would eat up too much of her time. As such, she had an in-ground irrigation system installed, so "watering the plants" now meant flicking a switch and returning to her studies.
Long gone were the days of happily plodding behind her mother in her neon green rain boots, carrying a tiny floral watering can and covered up to her knees in mud. She never lost the love of watching the flowers bloom every year and would spend many an afternoon gazing out her window and out over the meadow. Nevertheless, as she grew older, a few months out of every year she would inexplicably feel nothing but disdain and boredom with her garden. The ennui and lack of interest only caused her mother to push her all the more to tend to them. Her mother was also the driving force behind her college major in botany and plant biology, not that she had any real complaints about it.
"Enjoy and cherish every second of your garden. The sun, the smell of flowers. You do not understand how terribly you'd miss it if it disappeared," her mother would always chide, an affectionate squeeze around her shoulders or playful tap on the head usually accompanying the statement.
Taking a bite out of her breakfast and palming the rest of the apple in her hand, she takes a look over the field and inhales deeply. The breeze carries the scent of a myriad of flowers and fragrant herbs, lazily drifting past her and brushing a few stray strands of hair into her face and tickling her nose. She lets loose a purposefully loud and dramatic sneeze, meant to get a jump out of her nervous-natured mother. Grinning wildly at the resulting yip emanating from the house, she finishes her apple, spins the keychain around one of her fingers and turns to head for the car. However, she stops abruptly and nearly topples over when she spies the same floral watering can she has utilized since childhood. Picking it up with a childish and gleeful smile, Paige turns to head back out to the field.
Once she nears the edge of the vast meadow and spotting what it was she's looking for, Paige clutches her watering can and sits down at the small tree for a moment. It was here that she discovered the little sapling when they first moved in years ago. She visited it every day; watered it, tended to it, nurtured it and poured all her effort into it. It flourished so quickly, seemingly happy to grow with her. This year it finally bore fruit: large, heavy pomegranates, in various stages of ripeness.
Careful not to disturb the growing fruit, Paige waters the tree, clearing away any weeds beginning to sprout around it and proceeds to sit down beneath it. She then reaches up to analyze one of the lower-hanging fruits. A wide smile crosses her face as she feels a sense of accomplishment. Soon after, she leans back on her palms, tilting her face towards the sun and soaking it in while the shade of the forest behind her cools her back. Leaning against the thin trunk of her pomegranate tree, she remains blissfully unaware of the dark figure looming and watching over her as she dozes off.