Author's Note:
Yo, yo, yo! It's been awhile, hasn't it? I'm super sorry for the late update. I didn't like writing the beginning of this chapter, so I kinda procrastinated. But. But. But. I have so much to tell you guys!
Guess who aced her exams? Not this lady! Guess who passed all her classes with only one B+ and everything else an A? THIS LADY! Whoop! Call the police. :D
Guess who went to see the Desolation of Smaug? THIS LADY! Guess who loved it so much? THIS LADY! The ending though! The cliff hanger!
Guys, I've gotten into BBC's Sherlock. Martin Freeman is totally amazing and adorable, and I loved him in The Hobbit. So I was really thrilled to see that he played John Watson! And guess who voiced Smaug in the Desolation? Benedict Cumberbatch! So gorgeous. It makes me happy knowing that they both star in two things that I really like.
Guys, the third season of Sherlock is going to kill me. I can't wait. I'm going to cry so hard because my heart feels will be all over the place! And there are already so many things on Tumblr with the third season, and I'm tearing my hair out wishing it would air faster in the U.S.
So. Guess who's thinking about writing a Sherlock Fanfiction? Mmmhmm. *whispers* Me. I'm already thinking of a plot, and it's going to take me a few weeks to develop and experiment with things. I try to plan everything out before I write it. Trust me; if I just wrote out Delta Sierra with what I originally had in mind, it would be on fire in the middle of an oil spill. Just trust me on this.
I may be studying abroad in a different country for a foreign exchange program. I really wanted to go to Ireland (my heritage!), but I can only go if I go in the summer of 2014. Well, marching band is in the summer, and this is my last year. I've been in it for years, and I'm NOT going to miss my last season! So poop! My heart was broken. But. But. But. I may be able to go to New Zealand -or- Germany! Buckle up, kiddies. I might be on my way! :D
And I think that's it. If any of you beautiful babes have a Tumblr, add me.
My URL: fuckleupagus
And it's, like, three in the goddamn morning. I feel really sick and tired and I kind of rushed through the end. It's probably crappy. I used to ride horses a long time ago, so my horsey grooming skills may not be very good. If you guys are good with horses, tell me if I've made an error.
Au revoir! Auf Wiedersehen!
xxx
The house sat near a long, county road, surrounded by corn fields and small farms. It was the scenery she had grown accustomed to. A long, slightly curved dirt driveway lead up to the house. A sea of vast, green space separated the home and the large expanse of thick woods. In the middle of the open field sat a fairly large structure. The hangar. It was silhouetted against the indigo horizon, the moon struggling to fight through the thick clouds that had accumulated over its pale face.
The door of the house was locked, though it didn't matter much to her. She had the key. Although the door was heavy, it opened noiselessly. With a strange feeling of apprehension, Everett took her first step into her new home. Thick darkness had devoured the living room, banishing every precious shimmer of light. She could barely see through the rich, violet shadow of the early morning. Dropping her bag on the floor, Everett felt blindly for a light switch, her shoes thumping against the wood in a slow rhythm. The floors were bare wood, covered in scratches from the traffic that had passed before. Occasionally, she would stumble on nothing, and catch herself. Her clumsy feet betrayed her minutes later, however, and she tripped and fell forward into an unknown and unseen object in front of her. CRASH. She shatter of broken glass echoed through her mind.
"Well, shit." She muttered. It hadn't even been an hour in her new home, and she had already destroyed something. Cautiously, she stepped around the broken glass that shimmered in the occasional stream of moonlight. She could make out the silhouetted shapes of furniture, and she took a mental picture before the room was swallowed by the darkness once again. Her hands soon made contact with the shade of a lamp, and she let out a soft sound of success, feeling around for the switch. When bright light flashed before her eyes, she flinched, covering her eyes with her palms until her vision returned to her. Everett blinked away the speckles, her eyes adjusting to the glow of the lamp.
The walls were bare, though it was obvious that pictures had sat there at one time. Dust gathered in the corners of the room. She noticed that she had broken a glassy vase. Water puddled with the glass, and the fresh flowers lay abandoned, a few of their petals scattered across the floor. Sighing softly, she turned her gaze to observe the rest of the living room. A simple rocking chair sat near a small table. A folded piece of paper sat on the surface of the table, and, moving with much more confidence and purpose, Everett walked over the table and took the note, reading it.
Dear Everett,
There isn't much here, but it will keep you comfortable. We decided on keeping the utilities on for you. There is enough money hidden in the drawer of Sadowey's room to pay the bills for two months. There is extra money for groceries, too. Use your money wisely, sweet heart (Everett rolled her eyes at the smiley face that followed the word, and she deduced that Dahlia was responsible for writing the letter)! You may be able to find some work in town. I know packing groceries isn't the most glamorous of jobs, but you'll need the money. Our neighbor, Forrester, said that he would check up on you once in awhile. If you aren't able to get a job in town, he may hire you to help around the house. His son, Lee, may be willing to let you work, too.
Call us when you get the chance. We miss you. Maybe we'll come and visit, and you can meet Natalie. She's a real sweetheart (Everett bit her lip at the sight of another smiley face, continuing to read her letter). Write us if you have the time.
Dahlia and Sadowey
Everett closed and folded the letter with a soft sigh. She tucked it into her pocket, chewing on her cheek lightly. A job. She had never had a job before. She hoped that she would find a job before she ran out of money. Gritting her teeth, Everett pushed the doubtful thoughts away. Instead, she wandered around the house, turning on every light she could find. She found the darkness oppressing, and she wanted to cast it away.
It didn't take her long to find her way around the house. She found the bathroom, and was overwhelmed with a feeling of relief. The taxi ride had been a long one, and she regretted not going to the bathroom before she left. Washing her hands after she relieved herself, she noticed that the whole bathroom had been scrubbed clean, the smell of bleach and cleaner still hanging in the air. She noticed the duck shaped soap dispenser. She found her reflection in the mirror on the medicine cabinet. She studied her features. She looked exhausted. Dark rings circled beneath her grey eyes, and her hair was an unkempt mess of tangles and fluff.
The taxi ride out to the house had been rough. The ride wasn't extremely exciting, and she had managed to fall asleep, slouched against the taxi's uncomfortable seats. The driver had woke her awkwardly once he reached her destination, and she paid him for the ride, giving him a few dollars extra for the possible snoring he may have endured.
Leaning over the sink, Everett stared at her reflection. She tilted her head, looking at herself from different angles. She made faces at her reflection, smirking once or twice. She ran her fingers down her chin, her skin soft. Speckles dotted her cheeks and her nose. Her cheeks were rosy, adding bright color to her otherwise pale features. She ran a hand through her wild hair, tugging at the tangles until they freed themselves. Her hair was soft, despite its untidiness. She allowed her fingers to twirl and twist through her deep brown tresses. Everett tussled her hair before she walked out of the bathroom, flipping off the light.
The house was filled with an eerie silence that rang and stung her ears. She could hear the snores of Fetch deep within her memory, along with the hissing fuzziness of a snowy channel on the T.V. The rumble of Sadowey's old truck hung in the back of her mind. Everett stared out at the dark hallway, the light from the lamp in the living room barely lighting the small hallway. Her heart drummed slowly in her rib cage as she listened to her blood rush through her ears. The silence was deafening.
Everett hummed softly, wandering through the hallway into another room. She flipped on the light, looking around. The paint on the wall was a creamy color, and it smelled heavily of baby powder. The plate on the light switch was a little teddy bear holding balloons. Everett guessed that the room must have belonged to little Natalie. Quickly losing interest in this room, Everett turned off the light, and she walked into the room across from Natalie's. Everett felt for the light switch, and blinked when the light flooded the room. A large bed sat near the window. A wooden drawer sat alongside the bed along with a lamp. A wardrobe leaned against the farthest wall. Bright, glimmering gold paint covered the walls, catching the light of the bulb on the ceiling and causing it to shimmer.
Everett stepped into the room and she inhaled. The faint smell of Dahlia's floral perfume clung to the air. She could barely pick up the scent of Sadowey's own cologne. The mixture was not unpleasant, though it brought a slight ache to her heart. The young woman walked over to the drawer and she opened it slowly. As promised, an envelope containing two months of bill and grocery money gathered dust. Everett shut the drawer, having no interest in the money at the moment. Everett stepped out into the hallway once more. The rest of the doors lead to empty closets, and she possessed no interest for them, either.
The young woman yawned and she stretched towards the ceiling, her fingers reaching high above her head, desperately trying to snag a shadow. Everett relaxed a moment later, shifting her weight from side to side. She was alone, now. Sadowey had his wife and child to look after. Her mother had passed, followed by Fetch, a man who was far from perfect, but better than nothing.
She felt pressure build in her chest. Her legs twitched. Gathering the rest of her energy, she rushed forward, running through the dark hallway and towards the warm, creamy light of the living room. Without a destination, dashed through the house, screaming at the top of her lungs, determined to create some sort of sound. Her screaming voice bounced off the wooden walls of the house. Her feet thumped noisily against the floor. Her shoes crunched noisily in the glass from the broken vase, but she ignored it. Her heart pumped heated blood through her veins. A delicious sensation of adrenaline rushed through her body
Everett screaming ceased when she reached the kitchen, her heart racing in her chest. Sweat had accumulated on her forehead. Her shoes were damp from the splash in the broken vase puddle. Her shoulders and hands trembled. A breeze blew through an open window in the kitchen, the curtains tossing about slowly. An icebox sat against the wall, humming softly. The table near the window was bare. A few pots and pans sat on the counter, along with a few glasses, bowls, plates, cubs, and silverware. A wall clock ticked slowly, almost painfully.
Panting softly, Everett wandered into the kitchen, her shoes scuffing across the white linoleum. The soft hum of the icebox and white noise filled her mind, and she sighed softly, relaxing. It was much better than the suffocating silence. The air was cooler in the kitchen. A wooden table sat beside the open window, four chairs pushed in against it. Everett wandered to the table and she ran the tips of her fingers across the cool surface. She felt each scratch and flaw on the surface of the table, and she committed them to her memory. Everett glanced up at the ticking clock for a moment. It was too early, and too late. Her eyes were growing heavy.
The moon managed to fight through the clouds, its cool light showing through the window. Its light flooded the kitchen and shown against the floor. Everett inhaled as she desperately drank the moonlight. When it disappeared, she exhaled, the stress escaping her body. Her shoulders slumped and her knees trembled. She allowed herself to slump onto the cold floor, her ear pressed to the linoleum. She could hear the electricity hum throughout the house. Occasionally, a pipe could clank softly, or the wind would rattle a shutter. Everett curled into a ball and she closed her eyes. Within minutes, she fell asleep, her arms wrapped around her shoulders and her chin tucked into her chest.
xxx
"I'm just checkin' for a pulse."
"I said don't touch her! If she ain't alive, they gonna find your prints on her skin. They gonna lock you up. She ain't alive. Her skin's so pale, she looks like she's a ghost."
"I think that's just her skin. Damn," the voice grew soft for a moment, "looks just like 'im." The stranger gave her side a gentle nudge
Everett's eyes fluttered open, her breathing slow and soft. Her eyes fell upon a face, and her breath hitched in her throat. The face grinned from ear to ear.
"We got a breather!"
She screamed and untangled herself from her own limbs, her body thrashing against the floor as she tried to get away, her eyes wide with terror. The man laughed, watching her with an amused look, his hands on his knees. She only screamed louder, her hair falling into her face.
"Hey, hey," the stranger said in a calm voice, the smile still on his face, "calm down. We're friends of your brother's." The man held up his hands. They were worn from work. His light brown hair stuck up all over the place, his brown eyes shining. "I'm Lee," he said before nodding up at an older man, "and that's my pop, Forrester." He stuck out his hand with a grin. A light touch of sunburn sat on his arms, his sleeves rolled up. His face, too, had been kissed by the sun, his freckled cheeks a light, warm pink. Everett trembled as she watched the strangers, sitting statue still.
"That Sadowey said you'd be lookin' for some work, girl," the older man spoke, his voice rough. Wrinkles lined his face. His eyes were stuck in a permanent glare. His silver hair was combed back, though a few strands had started to fall into his face. His cheeks were pink, too. His hands sat on his hips as he watched Everett collect herself. "Well," he said sharply, "are you lookin' for work, or not?"
"K-Kinda," She began, slowly standing. She stumbled once, her knees trembling. "I mean, if you have anything..for me to do." She brushed her hair from her face, her hand shaking.
"Jus' need a hand with the horses, and maybe with the field," Forrester explained, "M' oldest son moved out. He knew his way around a horse, an' he helped this one-" he nodded to Lee-"with the work in the field." Everett nodded slowly. "S'not glamorous work, but if you do the work, I'll pay ya. Sadowey was a good kid. I promised I'd help 'im out."
The young woman thought quietly about her options. It didn't sound bad. All she had to do was pull some weeds or plow. But she didn't know anything about horses. She had never really been near one. Everett would pet them at the petting zoo when the fair came around, but she had never owned nor had she ever cared for a horse.
Forrester seemed to sense this, and he chuckled softly. "Don't worry, girl," he said, "Lee'll teach you everythin' you need to know 'bout a horse. They ain't gonna bite 'less you give 'em a reason." His shoulders shook slightly when he laughed.
"Alright," Everett said after a long period of silence. "I'll do it." She rubbed her aching shoulder. It was slightly sore from sleeping on the kitchen floor, but she soon pushed the pain away from her mind. "When can I start?" She asked Forrester.
The man rubbed the grey stubble on his chin. "You can stop by an' get a tour, if you want. Ain't much to see, and there ain't gonna be a lot of places for you to be at. Just the stable, barn, and field." He said. "Make sure you wear somethin' that won't keep a lot of heat. Ain't gonna have you die in my field. There's a spigot, if you ever get thirsty. 'Course you can always come inside and yet water, but I ain't gonna have you runnin' in and out. Ain't payin' you to drink up my water." He scratched his whiskers.
"A tour sounds great." She told him. "S'not like there's much to do around here, anyway," she muttered under her breath, looking around the kitchen. All she really had to do was unpack. And, of course, take care of the flowers and vase she had massacred the night before. The older man nodded before he turned and started to shuffle out of the house, motioning for her to follow with his hand.
"C'mon," he said, "I'll drive you over. Every mornin', Lee can come by and pick you up." He said, walking towards the front door. Everett started to follow, but Lee stopped her.
"Glad to see you're breathin'," he smirked, "The name's Lee." The younger man said. He held out his hand and, as if he were summoning demons, snorted and spat into his hand, holding it out to her. Everett glanced down at his hand with mild disgust. She remembered the gesture from when she was younger. It had displayed a trust and bonding with a friend, but, now that she was older, she found the display a little gross. Still, she did not want to offend the person who she was going to be working with.
"Everett," she spoke with a slight smile, spitting into her own hand. They clasped their hands together for a moment before they pulled away. Lee laughed softly and he walked past her, following his father and leaving Everett to scrub her hands in the scalding water of the kitchen sink.
After washing her hands, Everett rushed after the to men, squinting at the light that had started to rise over the horizon. A thick layer of fog sat on top of the green grass. She squinted through the haze, searching for the hangar in the distance. Her eyes soon fell upon a dark blob in the middle of the field. she breathed a soft sigh before following Lee and Forrester to their rust colored pickup truck. A scruffy dog sat in the front, panting softly, its head sticking out the window. It barked excitedly upon seeing Everett, eager to make a new friend.
"That's Brutus," Lee grunted as he hoisted himself into the back of the pickup truck. He helped her into the back before settling down to sit. "He won't hurt you. He'll just jump up on you and try to lick your face." He chuckled softly, watching the dog through the back window of the pickup truck.
"I never had a dog before," Everett said, her lips forming into a wry smile as she observed the dog through he glass. "Fetch'd give me a lecture about takin' care of 'em, and feedin' 'em," she shrugged. "Never really wanted a dog, anyway." She sat down across from Lee, brushing away a few dusty, dead leaves. Lee nodded slowly, scratching gently at his sore sunburn.
The old truck roared to life when Forrester started it. It sputtered and clanked as the older man pulled out of the drive way and down the long road. The cool morning wind whipped at Everett's hair, and she sighed softly, enjoying the silky feeling of the wind. She knew that she had better enjoy it; the humidity was going to make everything hot and sticky when the sun came up.
"So," Everett called over the whipping wind after a few minutes, "where'd your older brother go?" She asked Lee. The young man shifted his gaze to her, and he shrugged.
"Went off to get a job somewhere else, I guess," he answered, "somewhere in the city. Wanted to work for Mann Co., I think." Lee said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "A division of TF Industries." He added, squinting from the wind. He smirked. "Me? I like stayin' out here. No rules to follow, no one to tell you what you can and can't have." He looked around the fields that they drove by. "Just acres an' acres of land." He inhaled the fresh air until his lungs burned.
It didn't take much longer for Forrester to arrive at the farm Everett was going to work at. The older man parked the car in a gravel drive way and he turned the rumbling truck off. He slid out of the driver's side with a soft grunt. He called for Brutus, letting the shaggy dog out before closing the door. Lee hopped from the back of the truck and he helped Everett down, brushing his dusty jeans off.
"Show her where the stables are, Lee," Forrester said, "Show her the horses. Teach her how to saddle one and brush one. And, if you have time, show her how to clean their hooves." He nodded to his son, before turning and heading towards the house. Lee watched him shuffle towards the house before he sighed, shaking his head.
"Older'n dirt, my pop. Can't keep this old place runnin' all by hisself." He said, sticking his hands into his pockets. He gestured towards the stable across the yard. "C'mon," he said, "I'll show you 'around."
Everett followed him, trotting slightly to keep up with his long strides. She had broken a sweat by the time they reached the stables. Lee opened the wooden door with a soft grunt, the dusty sunlight filtering through the darkness of the table. Flies buzzed about and the smell of sweet hay and farm animal hung in the air. Lee walked into the table and, after a few seconds of feeling for a light switch, a soft, him light appeared in front of her eyes. Four horses sat in their stalls, chewing slowly and thoughtfully on their hay.
"This here's Doris. She's the oldest horse in the stable." Lee walked up to a large, black horse and patted her nose gently. "Those are her foals," he nodded to two younger horses. "They're both colts. The one with the spots is Pete, and the solid black one is Mitch." Lee unlatched Doris's gate and he led her out gently, patting her neck softly as he did so. "The filly over there-" he nodded to the final horse-"is Becca. We bought her a few months ago." Lee smiled, running his hands along Doris's coat. He looped the rope on her bridle over a small hook on a post and he left to fetch a wooden box full of combs and brushes.
"Before you saddle a horse, you brush it and clean its hooves." He said, opening the box and rummaging through it. He picked a curry and he ran it across Doris's neck and back. "And if you wanna move to the other side," he went to do so, keeping a hand on the horse, but keeping his distance when he went behind her, "make sure you keep your distance, but keep your fingers on her back. You don't wanna surprise her and make her kick." He went to groom her other side. Everett followed slowly and cautiously, watching Doris sniff the floor boards patiently. "Here," he handed Everett the brush.
"How do you know when to stop combin' them?" She asked, taking the curry comb and gently running it across Doris' shiny coat. Lee chuckled softly.
"When they look clean, stupid." He gave her head a soft shove, and she laughed, nodding a little. She ran the horse brush along Doris's neck, her hands travelling up the creature's soft coat. "There. That's good. You gotta clean them every day, before you saddle 'em. If you don't, they'll be uncomfortable or get girth sores. Ain't nobody wanna deal with a cranky horse." He said. Everett nodded and handed him the comb. He quickly placed the comb into the crate. "After you use the curry comb, you use a body brush. That'll get anything the comb missed. Then, you use a finishing brush for her face and ears and throat." With a grunt, he picked the box back up and returned it to its original place, returning with a hoof pick.
"This is a hoof pick. You need it to clean their hooves." He showed Everett he tool before walking over to Doris. He felt the back of her leg for a tendon. "You squeeze the back of her leg and say "up"," Upon hearing this command and feeling the slight pressure, Doris lifted her leg, revealing the bottom of her hoof. "The others have been trained with the word "up". They'll respond to it." Lee muttered, leaning forward to clean Doris's hoof. "If you see any cracks in their hooves, let me or my pop know, and we'll get it taken care of."
"Got it."
"You sure?" Lee joked with a grin, gently picking Doris's hooves. He scraped the mud from her hooves before setting the leg down. Everett watched him with her arms crossed over her chest. She had been watching carefully.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Then show me."
Lee handed Everett the horse pick, and she took it with a roll of her eyes, though a slight smile spread across her face. She went to another one of Doris's hooves, and she ran her hand along the leg of the animal. Giving her tendon a gentle squeeze, Everett said, "up". Doris responded, lifting her hoof. She grunted as she held Doris's hoof and tried to dig the mud and hay from the hoof. Lee laughed and he walked over to help her, holding the pick and cleaning the hoof while Everett held Doris's hoof.
"Okay, so maybe I need a little practice." Everett rolled her eyes.
"You need a lotta practice."
"Shuddup."
The young man rolled his eyes as he finished cleaning Doris's hoof. When Lee said it was okay, Everett released Doris's hoof. Lee lead the way to the other side of Doris, keeping his hand close to her.
"You think you can handle this one, slim?" Lee asked, handing her the pick.
"I said shuddup, cowboy." Everett snarled, taking the pick. She did the same to Doris's third leg, ignoring Lee's chuckle. He was quiet as he watched her work, leaning in to help her every few seconds. He moved away to lean against the wall of the stable, smirking,
"Someone outta teach you how to ride."
