So here's what I've decided, both with help from you awesome reviewers, and
also because of some ideas I've had recently - the show must continue! And
by show, I mean of course, this story. It will be broken into two 'books',
this being the first chapter of the second one. Thanks for reading, and
please continue to review!
Angelina
+++++++++++++
The sun streams through the open window beside the couch, it's rays creating intricate designs on the cushions and my bare legs as I look out at the ocean beyond. The waves caress the sand that dares to penetrate its depths, white caps dotting their blue tips. It is afternoons like these that I remember the day in the boat and everything that ran through my head during those few hours.
That night was the beginning of a new section in my life. The chapters of my time with Alan were bound closed and locked away to be forever treasured in my mind. A new book was opened, fresh pages being read for the first time. It is this book I am currently experiencing, but no longer is Alan the one reading it with me.
No, not this time. This time, it's his older brother Virgil.
It's been three months since my conversation with Alan played out. The conversation in which he told me nothing could banish the feelings he had for me. I guess, in a sense, he is still holding onto that book we created, reading over the love we shared and everything we went through to be where we are now.
My mind fogs over like the island during the young hours of the morning when everything is silent and still. Morning air that smells of the day to come, unsullied dew lining the blades of grass that dance in the dawn wind. . .That is how I feel. Like a door has opened and given me opportunities I've never had before.
And I fully intend to make use of what that door has exposed to me.
A content sigh escapes my lips as I settle down deeper against the couch pillows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my legs. The curtains flutter behind the sofa as if playing in the tepid spring breeze. Clouds sail across the azure sky without a care, as if the only thing that matters is the present. No one's looking ahead, no one's looking behind; right now is all anyone cares about.
Everything seems right in the world.
I unfold my legs reluctantly and stand up, stretching lazily towards the roof. As content as I may be, there is still work to be done. I start down the hall, my bare feet making a pleasant padding sound on the soft carpet as I head to my room to change for supper. According to Grandma Tracy, shorts and a t-shirt are hardly acceptable for dining.
I smile and roll my eyes at the thought. The strong, patient, reliable woman has finally come around and has taken me back under her wing again. Like the granddaughter she never had, says Virgil. Inside, I'm much more relieved as I care to let on. It's difficult living in a house with all- male occupants. Grandma Tracy was the closest thing to a female friend I've had in a long time.
As I leave my room, I run into my father coming out of his. He looks relaxed and fit, healthier than I've seen him in a long while. A month ago, my father suffered one of his attacks. To this day, no one has been able to find out what has been causing them. But when the subject is approached, no matter who brings it up, he backs out of the conversation, giving any excuse he can think of.
But recently, he has not had to do such a thing. For the last few weeks, he's been roaming around the island as active and well as any of Mr. Tracy's sons. It's been a long time since I've seen him like this, and it's a welcome change. He seems to have been miraculously cured.
"Good evening, my daughter." My father smiles at me in his gentle way and I return it.
"Good evening, Father. How are you doing?"
"Very well, Tin-Tin. Care to accompany me to supper?"
"Of course." I beam happily and take his offered arm.
We arrive in the dining room just in time to hear Alan and Gordon making vulgar remarks about a woman they saw on television. Their laughter reaches my ears and I can't help but grin. Trust them to think of such things concerning an anchorwoman for the Sydney news. My father immediately goes to set the table as I head in the opposite direction.
Virgil passes and kisses me lightly on the cheek as I head into the kitchen to help Grandma Tracy dish out the food. She's outdone herself this night, I think to myself as I take the salad into the dining room. The food holds a hearty scent and it immediately catches the attention of the men sitting at the table as we place it on the table.
"Brains, have you found out what was causing Thunderbird One's radio to malfunction yesterday?" Mr. Tracy helps himself to some of the salad as the engineer at the other end of the table shakes his head.
"N-No, sir. It is highly p-p-possible that it was just, uh, interference from the e-environment. But I will continue to l-look into it."
"Thank you, Brains. Scott, would you pass the potatoes, please?"
And so dinner goes, the spacious room filling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. In all my life, I have never seen a family quite like the Tracy's. They're definitely one of a kind.
Near the end of the meal, I begin to feel a faint pulsing in my head. Dismissing it as simply a headache, I take another breadstick from the basket before me. In only minutes, it has gotten worse and I try to blink the dizziness away.
I glance up as a hand rests on mine. Virgil, sitting next to me, is displaying a look of pure concern. "Tin-Tin, are you all right?"
I manage a nod and return to my dinner. Before long, the contents of my plate have merged into a single dark, indistinct shape. My head is throbbing now and it takes all my strength to stay upright. What is causing this tremendous amount of pain? It can't be a headache - I've never experienced anything like this before.
"Tin-Tin?" I'm only vaguely aware of Virgil calling my name as the pain begins to worsen, making the room spin.
In an effort to curb the pulsating in my brain, I shut my eyes and grab onto Virgil's hand, letting my other one grasp the chair I'm sitting on. It feels as though my head is splitting in two. The room shakes beneath me and I break out into a cold sweat, letting out a hoarse cry before sliding sideways in a dead faint.
As the pain begins to abscond, a sheet of never-ending blackness replaces it. I can't see anything, can't hear anything, and have no idea what's going on.
That is, until I heard the voice.
"Your father is no help to me anymore," it spits angrily, the words dripping with wickedness. "So you will have to do."
Angelina
+++++++++++++
The sun streams through the open window beside the couch, it's rays creating intricate designs on the cushions and my bare legs as I look out at the ocean beyond. The waves caress the sand that dares to penetrate its depths, white caps dotting their blue tips. It is afternoons like these that I remember the day in the boat and everything that ran through my head during those few hours.
That night was the beginning of a new section in my life. The chapters of my time with Alan were bound closed and locked away to be forever treasured in my mind. A new book was opened, fresh pages being read for the first time. It is this book I am currently experiencing, but no longer is Alan the one reading it with me.
No, not this time. This time, it's his older brother Virgil.
It's been three months since my conversation with Alan played out. The conversation in which he told me nothing could banish the feelings he had for me. I guess, in a sense, he is still holding onto that book we created, reading over the love we shared and everything we went through to be where we are now.
My mind fogs over like the island during the young hours of the morning when everything is silent and still. Morning air that smells of the day to come, unsullied dew lining the blades of grass that dance in the dawn wind. . .That is how I feel. Like a door has opened and given me opportunities I've never had before.
And I fully intend to make use of what that door has exposed to me.
A content sigh escapes my lips as I settle down deeper against the couch pillows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my legs. The curtains flutter behind the sofa as if playing in the tepid spring breeze. Clouds sail across the azure sky without a care, as if the only thing that matters is the present. No one's looking ahead, no one's looking behind; right now is all anyone cares about.
Everything seems right in the world.
I unfold my legs reluctantly and stand up, stretching lazily towards the roof. As content as I may be, there is still work to be done. I start down the hall, my bare feet making a pleasant padding sound on the soft carpet as I head to my room to change for supper. According to Grandma Tracy, shorts and a t-shirt are hardly acceptable for dining.
I smile and roll my eyes at the thought. The strong, patient, reliable woman has finally come around and has taken me back under her wing again. Like the granddaughter she never had, says Virgil. Inside, I'm much more relieved as I care to let on. It's difficult living in a house with all- male occupants. Grandma Tracy was the closest thing to a female friend I've had in a long time.
As I leave my room, I run into my father coming out of his. He looks relaxed and fit, healthier than I've seen him in a long while. A month ago, my father suffered one of his attacks. To this day, no one has been able to find out what has been causing them. But when the subject is approached, no matter who brings it up, he backs out of the conversation, giving any excuse he can think of.
But recently, he has not had to do such a thing. For the last few weeks, he's been roaming around the island as active and well as any of Mr. Tracy's sons. It's been a long time since I've seen him like this, and it's a welcome change. He seems to have been miraculously cured.
"Good evening, my daughter." My father smiles at me in his gentle way and I return it.
"Good evening, Father. How are you doing?"
"Very well, Tin-Tin. Care to accompany me to supper?"
"Of course." I beam happily and take his offered arm.
We arrive in the dining room just in time to hear Alan and Gordon making vulgar remarks about a woman they saw on television. Their laughter reaches my ears and I can't help but grin. Trust them to think of such things concerning an anchorwoman for the Sydney news. My father immediately goes to set the table as I head in the opposite direction.
Virgil passes and kisses me lightly on the cheek as I head into the kitchen to help Grandma Tracy dish out the food. She's outdone herself this night, I think to myself as I take the salad into the dining room. The food holds a hearty scent and it immediately catches the attention of the men sitting at the table as we place it on the table.
"Brains, have you found out what was causing Thunderbird One's radio to malfunction yesterday?" Mr. Tracy helps himself to some of the salad as the engineer at the other end of the table shakes his head.
"N-No, sir. It is highly p-p-possible that it was just, uh, interference from the e-environment. But I will continue to l-look into it."
"Thank you, Brains. Scott, would you pass the potatoes, please?"
And so dinner goes, the spacious room filling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. In all my life, I have never seen a family quite like the Tracy's. They're definitely one of a kind.
Near the end of the meal, I begin to feel a faint pulsing in my head. Dismissing it as simply a headache, I take another breadstick from the basket before me. In only minutes, it has gotten worse and I try to blink the dizziness away.
I glance up as a hand rests on mine. Virgil, sitting next to me, is displaying a look of pure concern. "Tin-Tin, are you all right?"
I manage a nod and return to my dinner. Before long, the contents of my plate have merged into a single dark, indistinct shape. My head is throbbing now and it takes all my strength to stay upright. What is causing this tremendous amount of pain? It can't be a headache - I've never experienced anything like this before.
"Tin-Tin?" I'm only vaguely aware of Virgil calling my name as the pain begins to worsen, making the room spin.
In an effort to curb the pulsating in my brain, I shut my eyes and grab onto Virgil's hand, letting my other one grasp the chair I'm sitting on. It feels as though my head is splitting in two. The room shakes beneath me and I break out into a cold sweat, letting out a hoarse cry before sliding sideways in a dead faint.
As the pain begins to abscond, a sheet of never-ending blackness replaces it. I can't see anything, can't hear anything, and have no idea what's going on.
That is, until I heard the voice.
"Your father is no help to me anymore," it spits angrily, the words dripping with wickedness. "So you will have to do."