And the third storyish chapter. I think I need a new keyboard. This one sticks in places, and in others is too easy to press.
Sorry about the bit of a wait! I had projects due, then quarterly exams...
Needless to say, I've been busy.
Enjoy!
"We're home!" she cried, setting down everything in little bins and cups and hanging up her coat- it was slightly chilly, despite it being the end of August- so precisely that I longed for something just thrown somewhere, no particular place for it. I liked uniformity in some of my stories, but I found it very boring in real life.
"Already?" I heard the distinct voice of Davyd drift in from a room that I hadn't visited yet. "I thought, you being you, it would have taken a lot longer."
Abigale smiled and said, "Well, our new addition to the house here was very decisive about what she wanted in her room- the colors were a bit dark for me, but she got a good selection from George's place."
Davyd came into the foyer with a cell phone in his hand- what was he doing before?- and smiled at me before examining the paint cans we had brought.
"Hmm... dark blue.... blue-green... violet... orange.... red.... yellow..." he muttered, looking at each of the paint cans in turn.
He looked up at me. "Are you planning on painting each portion of the wall a different color?" he asked with a slight contortion in his voice- like he was trying to accuse me of wasting their money for something I was going to botch completely.
Well, I wasn't going to botch it- I knew how to paint.
"No sir- I'm going to paint three walls the dark blue, the accent wall the blue-green, the ceiling violet-"
"What are you going to do with the warm colors?" he intterupted, obviously thinking that the'd used a word I didn't understand, and that I would have to answer and make myself look silly, or ask hm what the word meant, which would mean sacrificing my pride.
But I knew the word, so this didn't matter.
"I'm going to paint a scene around the window so that the room won't be so dark and gloomy," I replied, feeling smug when his mouth hung open for a second before he closed it.
"That... T-that sounds good," he stuttered out, much to the amsement of me- and Abigale, apparently, because she let out a loud 'hem' of laughter at her husband's sake, but quickly shut up when he glared at her menacingly. Interesting.
"I think I'll just go and sleep on that sofa thing in my room now," I said quickly. I really didn't want to witness anything ugly the first day I was here- it was always awful to witness ugliness at all, but on the first day, when you barely know them- it feels weird.
Abigale nodded at me and turned to Davyd. As I went to my new room and lay down, I could hear them arguing.
Sometimes, my life can be hard.
The next day, I woke up refreshed and ready to paint- until I looked at the clock and saw that it was 7 in the morning
I frowned, got up, and stretched. I never truly liked to get up before noon usually- what was so different about being here? Maybe it was being so close to the sea..
'You up, Syl?' I heard Abigale whisper, and turned around to see that she was in the doorway.
'Yeah,' I whispered back, 'But why are we whispering?'
'Davyd likes to sleep until 10 or so most days,' she whispered, 'And we don't want to wake him.'
Something me and Davyd had in common? Ugh- no wonder my body woke up earlier than usual.
'Here, let's move everything out of here so we can get to work,' she whispered, pulling on one of the sides of the loveseat-like couch thing.
It rasped lightly across the floor, sending a squeak into the air- barely noticeable, but there. Apparently, Davyd had some freaky superhuman hearing, because Abigale looked terrified.
'Here,' I whispered, and grabbed the other side of the red thing.
Together, we dragged all of the furnishings of the room out and put some newspaper down.
Some very old, very yellowed newspaper.
I glanced at one of the dates as I put it down, and then had to look back at it August 27, 1998? That was 13 years ago!
'I saved all the newspapers I used to read before I married Davyd so I could protect the floors when I painted,' she whispered.
I nodded. It made sense.
So we started to paint- and it got everywhere. On the newspapers, on the walls, on the wrong walls, on the ceiling, and on us.
I decided that, since all the paints were everywhere, I would just make the walls and ceiling mostly the colors they were supposed to be.
At about noon, we heard a definite bang coming from the kitchen area, signifying that Davyd was awake.
So we stopped talking in savored whispers, and started talking normally.
Abigale started thelling me about La Push and Forks- apparently, there was a reservation near here; about 10 minutes walk from this house.
"And they have some pretty nice-looking guys there, too," she said, looking at me slyly.
I started giggling. Me? With a Native American hunk? It's perposterous! I mean, just look at me- skinny, dark red hair, skin that wasn't white, black, or Native American, and washed-out blue-grey eyes. That, with a Native American? So not happening.
As soon as I stopped giggling, we went back to painting, finishing around three.
"There," I said, putting the final touches on the ceiling. My room looked slighty depressing, but good all the same. The next thing to xee was if I could paint a good picture around the one source of natural lighting in my room- the window.
I gulped as I took out the brush that Abigale had bought for me to paint this, and the colors I was going to use. I was worried that I wouldn't know what to paint, but as soon as I looked at the spot of dry, dark blue paint, I knew exactly what was to be there, and I knew how to paint it.
It took me some time, but I leaned back to appraize my work, happy that I was finally finished with this part. It looked really good, like it belonged there- a painting of the sun, and bottles of red- amber, and vines.
I laughed as I realized that it looked like something out of a book about the Greek Gods- mostly Dionsyus. But it fit- and that was what mattered. It fit.
Unlike me, still.
"It's beautiful, Syl!" exclaimed Abigale when she walked in. "It fits so seamlessly! Would you like something to eat now?"
I was suddenly ravenous- had I really just gone the day without eating? I nodded, and followed her to eat some pasta- no meat in the sauce, I was relieved to see.
And then I came back to my freshly painted room, took out Aire's story, and began to write again.
Perhaps her story's new name could be Elements of Aire.
I am so sorry about the hideously long wait!!
I will post another chapter as soon as its done.
Review!