Disclaimer: I own absitively posolutely nothin', yo.
*
It was mere days before the planned departure. Everything that could be possibly predicted was accounted for, and all else would be left in the hands of higher powers that would hopefully approve enough to let the venturers pass. After all, nothing certain could be said about on what the small group was about to embark; but if there was any time for experimentation, it was then.
*
"And after all the hardship, it was finally our time to live that fairytale promise, 'happily ever after'." Mother pulled the brush through my long, dark hair once more, then smiled and let her hands clasp in her lap. "The end."
I'd heard the story literally hundreds of times before, and I still never tired of it. Especially when it was told on mornings like this: too-early o'clock, dressed to impress, with that nasty nag of anxiety flooding the pit of my stomach. The infamous mornings of the first day of school.
Of course, this wasn't my first first. I'd managed some ten in the past, and with this being my eleventh, I was a pro. Not that that changed anything. The stakes were still the same, as was the traditional storytelling that went along with it.
Tradition was something of deep importance in my family, and not surprisingly so. These same routines had been carried through years and years, and I certainly wouldn't be one to break them. It wasn't my place, and besides, traditions felt safe, and comfortable. Why destroy that?
I hopped off the bed edge and did a quick self-check in my mother's bedroom mirror. Everything seemed normal, maybe even painfully so, and that was enough to keep me satisfied.
"Well." I said, and turned around. Mother stood up and took my chin delicately in her hand, unable to hold back the teary, emotional smile typical of maternal nature.
"Baby. Growing up, but still my baby," she sighed, and I leaned in and kissed her cheek appreciatively before pulling her hand down.
"Time for school, Mom," I told her as if she didn't know, and made my way downstairs. I expected to leave the house right away, as I was pushing my time, but first had to deal with the sharp snickering coming from the family room sofa. I slipped my messenger bag over my head, then went to see just who was having a laugh, and for what cause. To my definite non- surprise, the source was Cay, and the cause was me. Or rather, my situation. Come to think of it, most likely both. Cay seemed to be enjoying his moment of amusement, leaned back on the soft cushions with one arm strewn over the back of the sofa, and the other in possession of the remote control. I gave him a questioning eyebrow, and he didn't even glance at me, but still shook his head.
"Such a child," he laughed, flipping channels mindlessly, and talking much in the same fashion. "Still Mom's little 'baby.' And really, at sixteen, aren't most girls your age past that?"
I rolled my eyes. "We both know you're stupid, so don't let me waste my time informing you of that fact of life," I retorted. This only amused him further, and thinking back to what I said, I winced slightly. "Stupid" wasn't the most mature word choice; I'd back him on that.
Again he shook his head, laying down the remote and moving from his position to readjust the ponytail at the back of his head. "Oh, Jen. I love you so much, child that you are." Hair back in place, he went to tuck a few stray strands behind his ears, and an even larger smirk spread on his face. Cue the eye rolling again. I knew exactly what was coming next. Cay stood up and walked past me toward the kitchen, pausing only in the slightest to give the rounded top of my left ear a good pinch. "Have a good day, Jenna," he called back. The smug attitude was thick and obvious in his tone.
"You, too, Caleb," I replied, throwing as much venom as I could into his name. Pesky older brother, always managing to get the better of me. I took my moment of grrr out on my bag strap, looping my thumb underneath and giving it a good shove, then started out the front door.
*
It was mere days before the planned departure. Everything that could be possibly predicted was accounted for, and all else would be left in the hands of higher powers that would hopefully approve enough to let the venturers pass. After all, nothing certain could be said about on what the small group was about to embark; but if there was any time for experimentation, it was then.
*
"And after all the hardship, it was finally our time to live that fairytale promise, 'happily ever after'." Mother pulled the brush through my long, dark hair once more, then smiled and let her hands clasp in her lap. "The end."
I'd heard the story literally hundreds of times before, and I still never tired of it. Especially when it was told on mornings like this: too-early o'clock, dressed to impress, with that nasty nag of anxiety flooding the pit of my stomach. The infamous mornings of the first day of school.
Of course, this wasn't my first first. I'd managed some ten in the past, and with this being my eleventh, I was a pro. Not that that changed anything. The stakes were still the same, as was the traditional storytelling that went along with it.
Tradition was something of deep importance in my family, and not surprisingly so. These same routines had been carried through years and years, and I certainly wouldn't be one to break them. It wasn't my place, and besides, traditions felt safe, and comfortable. Why destroy that?
I hopped off the bed edge and did a quick self-check in my mother's bedroom mirror. Everything seemed normal, maybe even painfully so, and that was enough to keep me satisfied.
"Well." I said, and turned around. Mother stood up and took my chin delicately in her hand, unable to hold back the teary, emotional smile typical of maternal nature.
"Baby. Growing up, but still my baby," she sighed, and I leaned in and kissed her cheek appreciatively before pulling her hand down.
"Time for school, Mom," I told her as if she didn't know, and made my way downstairs. I expected to leave the house right away, as I was pushing my time, but first had to deal with the sharp snickering coming from the family room sofa. I slipped my messenger bag over my head, then went to see just who was having a laugh, and for what cause. To my definite non- surprise, the source was Cay, and the cause was me. Or rather, my situation. Come to think of it, most likely both. Cay seemed to be enjoying his moment of amusement, leaned back on the soft cushions with one arm strewn over the back of the sofa, and the other in possession of the remote control. I gave him a questioning eyebrow, and he didn't even glance at me, but still shook his head.
"Such a child," he laughed, flipping channels mindlessly, and talking much in the same fashion. "Still Mom's little 'baby.' And really, at sixteen, aren't most girls your age past that?"
I rolled my eyes. "We both know you're stupid, so don't let me waste my time informing you of that fact of life," I retorted. This only amused him further, and thinking back to what I said, I winced slightly. "Stupid" wasn't the most mature word choice; I'd back him on that.
Again he shook his head, laying down the remote and moving from his position to readjust the ponytail at the back of his head. "Oh, Jen. I love you so much, child that you are." Hair back in place, he went to tuck a few stray strands behind his ears, and an even larger smirk spread on his face. Cue the eye rolling again. I knew exactly what was coming next. Cay stood up and walked past me toward the kitchen, pausing only in the slightest to give the rounded top of my left ear a good pinch. "Have a good day, Jenna," he called back. The smug attitude was thick and obvious in his tone.
"You, too, Caleb," I replied, throwing as much venom as I could into his name. Pesky older brother, always managing to get the better of me. I took my moment of grrr out on my bag strap, looping my thumb underneath and giving it a good shove, then started out the front door.