Hey check it out! The second chapter to the story! MWAHAHA It's not a one-
shot after all!!
This chapter dedicated to Annjirika, the only person to put a review on this story ::sniff::
Sora woke up. Darn it. He knew himself well enough to know that once he woke up he could never get back to sleep.
It was early. He finally gave in and sat up to look at the sky. The sunrise was absolutely gorgeous this morning. He sighed, standing up and holding onto the mast for support. He looked in every direction. Water, no land. He had said good bye to his island forever.
His mom was probably having a fit trying to find him.
Guilt fell on top of him faster than he expected, thinking of his mom. His dad left when he was little, leaving him to depend on Riku. Sora's mom told him his dad was strong and determined. Determined for what? He remembered asking. His mom smiled and told him he might figure out later.
Riku was still sleeping.
Sora's thoughts blended and became sentences, as if in a book. He played with them, to see how many things he could think about that morning.
It was Tuesday. What happened on Tuesday? A flashback engulfed him, and he smiled.
~*Flashback*~
Sora was seven. It was raining outside and he was pouting. Mom would never let him outside.
"Sora, honey?" She walked in the room. Her hair was long, a brownish-blond, and today, put in pigtails. For some reason, moms shouldn't wear pigtails. That's what he thought as he looked up and scowled.
"Do you have to wear those, Mom? It makes me feel like I have an older sister rather than a parent."
She laughed. It was a warm, hearty laugh that, for some reason, made Sora think of her scent. Vanilla. Why on earth did she always smell like vanilla? It was a good scent, though. Every time he smelled vanilla, he remembered her laugh.
"Why not? It makes me feel like a little girl. Anyway, I know you want to go out but face it. You'd get pneumonia."
That reminded him. "Mom, why do they spell phenomena with a P-H, rather than just an N?"
She sat down and crossed her legs, right next to him. He loved it when she did that. He felt warm and safe inside, while outside it was cold and pouring. She was barefoot and she had a smudge of paint on her left hand. His mom's hobby was to paint.
Her paintings were breathtaking. She could paint animals in a minute and sunsets in a second. She loved horse pictures, so she drew them frequently. Her room smelled of paints all the time.
Sora was allergic to cats.
His mom yearned for a cat and told him of the eight cats her family had when she was young. She named them, all of them, from memory and showed him pictures. But her favorite was Leah, the black and brown calico cat, who comforted her whenever she was sick or sad. Leah would sleep with her every night. She choose Sora's mom out of her four siblings, one of which died recently from cancer. His mom told Sora the story of how Aunt Isabel would sing him to sleep when she babysat him.
Isabel was the closet to mom. Maybe it was because they both had three brothers, or maybe it was because they were the closest in age. The family went boy, boy, girl, girl, and boy. Mom was the second to last kid.
Sora's mom told him she loved him more than the sky.
"Well, Maybe it's because the monks got paid for creating the English language. If they spelled pneumonia with an 'N,' then they would have gotten less money."
"But they spelled it with a 'P-H.'
"That's right."
"Mom," Sora hugged his knees closer to him. "Tell me about Dad."
Sora's mom looked up at the ceiling and thought. "Hmmm..
"Your father was strong..very strong. When we were young, your father would lift me up and say, 'Olive, you're getting too cute.'"
"But your name is Olivia!"
"Your dad called me Olive because he loved black olives." She giggled. "I loved his nickname for me."
Sora scowled and stuck out his tongue. "Love is disgusting," he concluded.
"Maybe you won't think so when you're older." She laughed.
"I'll never fall in love," he smiled, face reddening a bit. He hated it when his mom would say stuff like, 'when you have a family,' or 'when you fall in love..'
"That's what I said. Until I met your father."
"What did your friends think?"
"They thought I was immature. They said, 'only babies say they won't fall in love.' They all had boyfriends and wore lipstick."
Sora's eyes softened a bit. "You never wear lipstick."
She smiled. "That was one of the reasons your father liked me. When we kissed, he hated lipstick smudges."
Kissing was number one of the top ten things that grossed Sora out. His face became even redder. "Please don't talk about kissing. It's-"
"-Gross. I know, I know." She laughed again.
Vanilla. Vanilla Olives. His gross list was about to get longer.
Olivia loved to talk about his dad. She missed him so much.
"Where is dad?" Sora timidly asked.
She smiled and kissed him on the forehead, standing up. "You'll know when your older."
"Can't you just tell me?" Sora whined, wiping the kiss off his forehead.
"Trust me. You'll know."
~*End Flashback*~
Now Sora was fourteen, and he still didn't know. And now he could never go back and get the answer from his mom.
This chapter dedicated to Annjirika, the only person to put a review on this story ::sniff::
Sora woke up. Darn it. He knew himself well enough to know that once he woke up he could never get back to sleep.
It was early. He finally gave in and sat up to look at the sky. The sunrise was absolutely gorgeous this morning. He sighed, standing up and holding onto the mast for support. He looked in every direction. Water, no land. He had said good bye to his island forever.
His mom was probably having a fit trying to find him.
Guilt fell on top of him faster than he expected, thinking of his mom. His dad left when he was little, leaving him to depend on Riku. Sora's mom told him his dad was strong and determined. Determined for what? He remembered asking. His mom smiled and told him he might figure out later.
Riku was still sleeping.
Sora's thoughts blended and became sentences, as if in a book. He played with them, to see how many things he could think about that morning.
It was Tuesday. What happened on Tuesday? A flashback engulfed him, and he smiled.
~*Flashback*~
Sora was seven. It was raining outside and he was pouting. Mom would never let him outside.
"Sora, honey?" She walked in the room. Her hair was long, a brownish-blond, and today, put in pigtails. For some reason, moms shouldn't wear pigtails. That's what he thought as he looked up and scowled.
"Do you have to wear those, Mom? It makes me feel like I have an older sister rather than a parent."
She laughed. It was a warm, hearty laugh that, for some reason, made Sora think of her scent. Vanilla. Why on earth did she always smell like vanilla? It was a good scent, though. Every time he smelled vanilla, he remembered her laugh.
"Why not? It makes me feel like a little girl. Anyway, I know you want to go out but face it. You'd get pneumonia."
That reminded him. "Mom, why do they spell phenomena with a P-H, rather than just an N?"
She sat down and crossed her legs, right next to him. He loved it when she did that. He felt warm and safe inside, while outside it was cold and pouring. She was barefoot and she had a smudge of paint on her left hand. His mom's hobby was to paint.
Her paintings were breathtaking. She could paint animals in a minute and sunsets in a second. She loved horse pictures, so she drew them frequently. Her room smelled of paints all the time.
Sora was allergic to cats.
His mom yearned for a cat and told him of the eight cats her family had when she was young. She named them, all of them, from memory and showed him pictures. But her favorite was Leah, the black and brown calico cat, who comforted her whenever she was sick or sad. Leah would sleep with her every night. She choose Sora's mom out of her four siblings, one of which died recently from cancer. His mom told Sora the story of how Aunt Isabel would sing him to sleep when she babysat him.
Isabel was the closet to mom. Maybe it was because they both had three brothers, or maybe it was because they were the closest in age. The family went boy, boy, girl, girl, and boy. Mom was the second to last kid.
Sora's mom told him she loved him more than the sky.
"Well, Maybe it's because the monks got paid for creating the English language. If they spelled pneumonia with an 'N,' then they would have gotten less money."
"But they spelled it with a 'P-H.'
"That's right."
"Mom," Sora hugged his knees closer to him. "Tell me about Dad."
Sora's mom looked up at the ceiling and thought. "Hmmm..
"Your father was strong..very strong. When we were young, your father would lift me up and say, 'Olive, you're getting too cute.'"
"But your name is Olivia!"
"Your dad called me Olive because he loved black olives." She giggled. "I loved his nickname for me."
Sora scowled and stuck out his tongue. "Love is disgusting," he concluded.
"Maybe you won't think so when you're older." She laughed.
"I'll never fall in love," he smiled, face reddening a bit. He hated it when his mom would say stuff like, 'when you have a family,' or 'when you fall in love..'
"That's what I said. Until I met your father."
"What did your friends think?"
"They thought I was immature. They said, 'only babies say they won't fall in love.' They all had boyfriends and wore lipstick."
Sora's eyes softened a bit. "You never wear lipstick."
She smiled. "That was one of the reasons your father liked me. When we kissed, he hated lipstick smudges."
Kissing was number one of the top ten things that grossed Sora out. His face became even redder. "Please don't talk about kissing. It's-"
"-Gross. I know, I know." She laughed again.
Vanilla. Vanilla Olives. His gross list was about to get longer.
Olivia loved to talk about his dad. She missed him so much.
"Where is dad?" Sora timidly asked.
She smiled and kissed him on the forehead, standing up. "You'll know when your older."
"Can't you just tell me?" Sora whined, wiping the kiss off his forehead.
"Trust me. You'll know."
~*End Flashback*~
Now Sora was fourteen, and he still didn't know. And now he could never go back and get the answer from his mom.
