Chapter 7 - Green

Vicky threw her hand out across the vacant side of her double bed. The void there screamed at her, forcing her eyes open on yet another day. As she ran her fingers through her tangled hair, she was aware that she was not hung over at all. Not a drop of liquid had passed her lips the night before, as it hadn't for the past week, ever since that meeting with Timmy. He hadn't tried to call her again, and it hadn't even crossed her mind to try and see him. Vicky wasn't the type to skulk around, hidden in the bushes. She was the type to hide herself away while her world crumbled around her.

She got to her feet, the night gown she had borrowed from her sister falling to just above her knees. Vicky was much taller than Tootie, and she always would be, but it was the kind of height you just couldn't notice, in case she noticed you back. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms, before walking over to her cluttered dressing table.

Empty beer bottles still stood on the once polished wood, which was now ringed with water marks. To an outsider it may have looked as though Vicky had finally gotten her act together and quit drinking, but this was not the case. Since losing her job all her income had dried up, as most people didn't want a babysitter who showed up to work already half cut. Vicky missed the alcohol very much. It didn't help her forget, far from it, but in her mind it made it better, at least for a little while. It was easier to pretend that everything was going to be ok when you had a distorted view of the world. Now she was going to bed every night stone cold sober, finding that it was impossible to make the fantasies of Timmy in her arms come. Instead she fell into fretful dozes, something the alcohol had always helped her with too.

Between weak fingers she picked up her hairbrush and began raking out the tangles on her head. Vicky had no sense of vanity or pride when it came to her looks, not anymore. There was no one left to impress. What she was doing was merely just force of habit, the desire to have a routine in her life that didn't consist of crying, drinking and wanting to die. She sighed heavily, and her reflection sighed back.

Summer was well and truly upon the city of Dimsdale now. The sun glared through Vicky's curtains, and she was most surprised by herself when she didn't turn away. Instead she got up from the little padded stool and walked over to the window, the scent of the honeysuckle in her neighbour's garden drawing her in even more. She pulled back the curtains slowly, not yet ready to expose herself to the world but willing to show that she wanted to try. Golden light streamed in through her window, bathing her room in a glow it hadn't seen for too long.

Vicky smiled.

And then she gasped. Her garden, which was usually just a large expanse of grass surrounded by fences, was filled with flowers. Not a patch of lawn could be seen through the petals and the stalks and the leaves. What surprised Vicky the most, however, was the fact that every single flower was green. Light green orchids stood proudly on the boarder, pale mint roses were dotted about everywhere, small geraniums had their grass green heads butted gently at by bees. Even the daisy's had dark green centres instead of the usual yellow. Vicky shook her head. Had it really been so long since she took a look at the world outside of herself that she didn't realise what her father had done to the garden? It was beautiful, and it made Vicky feel especially serene.

After what seemed like hours of staring at the strange garden, Vicky finally pulled herself away and faced her room once more. The sight was a definite contrast. Her room was a mess. There were dirty clothes littering the floor, scraps of paper and old magazines everywhere, it was a tip. Vicky sighed and managed to pick her usual clothes out of the pile. Pulling them on, she felt the feeling of peace draining away to be replaced with the usual feeling of misery. Now that she had taken her eyes away from the flowers, thoughts of Timmy filled her head once more, specifically the thoughts of how he wasn't hers. She closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling, before shaking her head and setting off downstairs.

When she got to the staircase she saw Tootie, perched about halfway down them and staring intently at the front door.

"Morning Vicky," she muttered as her sister ambled past. Tootie had noticed the change in Vicky recently. She wasn't drinking anymore, which, although Tootie knew was a good thing, it had somehow magnified the gloom that surrounded Vicky everyday. Her anguish was that much worse when her head wasn't clouded with toxins to distract her from her pain. She flinched, wondering how Vicky would respond.

"Morning Toot," the red head replied calmly. Although Timmy still occupied her thoughts day and night, there was a new thought vying for space too now. The thought of the garden, and what seeing it had done to her. It was as though all the anger she felt towards Timmy and the love she had for him had drained away, and now all that she was left with was a deep sadness. It wasn't better, by any means. At least when she had the anger she had felt something. Now all she felt was like giving up, the emptiness in her heart taking up more space than real emotions ever could.

"How're you feeling?" Tootie asked her sister. Vicky paused at the foot of the stairs but didn't say anything.

"Do you want to come to the mall with me today?" Tootie asked, changing her tactics. Vicky couldn't help but pick up on the note of sadness in her voice. Yesterday she wouldn't have noticed but today... Today was different.

"Isn't Chester taking you?" Vicky replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"He's supposed to be," the raven haired girl said slowly. "But he's late." Vicky cocked an eyebrow at her little sister.

"Late?" she repeated. As quick as a flash, the anger was back. Look at her! a voice inside Vicky screamed. Look at what love has done to her! Waiting on the stairs desperately hugging her knees for a guy who's probably shacked up with some other bimbo right now! This is love? This is sick.

"He probably stopped by at Timmy's or something," Tootie replied with a shrug. If she noticed the way Vicky flinched when she said Timmy's name, she didn't mention it.

"Or something," Vicky said slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?" Tootie said, a little worried. Vicky shook her head and sighed.

"Look," she said in a stiff voice. "I would go with the mall to you, but I really don't feel up to it. Maybe some other time, huh?" Tootie was astounded. Vicky had never been this civil to her in their entire life, and this was possibly the longest conversation they had ever had when Vicky was sober. She nodded slowly and watched her sister plod down the hall to the kitchen.

"Feel better," she called out softly after her sister's retreating back.

-

Vicky opened the door to her back garden and stepped out into the brilliant sunshine. Again she felt that feeling of peace lingering softly on the edges of her mind, and as she threaded her feet between the flowers she was willing to let in engulf her entirely. Morning dew seeped between her toes as she continued to walk down to the far end of the garden, away from her house and her life, just for a little while. It was probably her imagination playing tricks on her, but Vicky could have sworn that the flowers swayed to watch her as she walked. It's probably just the wind, she thought, strangely alert to the fact that the air was perfectly still.

At the end of the garden she came across something she had not spotted before from her bedroom window. A bench, painted in a light green colour, stood timidly in a patch of grass that the flowers had not been able to touch. Vicky smiled and sat down, watching the bees buzz noisily from one plant to the next. It was funny, but when she was here things didn't seem so bad. Yes, she was still in love with Timmy and yes, it hurt like hell, but for the first time in her life she knew that there was a chance that it could get better. That it wouldn't always be like this. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the bench.

Her eyes snapped open again, and with a second's panic Vicky realised that she didn't know where she was. The ground beneath her bare feet seemed to be made of clouds. Fluffy white shapes that her brain told her she should have fallen right through, and yet they seemed capable of supporting her weight. She walked forward, looking around at nothing but a vast expanse of blue for miles around.

"Hello?" she called, though her unrestricted vision yielded no one to her. "Hello?" she called again. There was a faint ping that sounded as though it came from somewhere far off in the distance.

"Are you lost, Miss?" came a cheerful male voice. Vicky spun around. Before her stood a man, a little taller than she was, with messy green hair. He was wearing thin black trousers, and a white shirt with a black tie. His smile lit up his large green eyes like beacons, and it was so infectious that Vicky couldn't help but smile too. His hand were clasped behind his back, and he was rocking backwards and forwards on the tip of his toes.

"A little lost, yeah," Vicky said with a nervous laugh. "Can you help me?"

"Well, that all depends on where you're going," the man replied.

"I want to go home," Vicky said earnestly.

"Where's that?" the man asked. Vicky reeled off her address from memory, but the man lowered his head, although he kept smiling.

"Yes, but where is home really?" he asked, lifting his head back up.

"I just told you," Vicky said, with the smallest tone of impatience in her voice.

"Did you?" the man asked simply, before disappearing with a small pop.

"Wait, come back!" Vicky called to the vacant air. Nothing happened. Vicky screwed up her eyes in frustration.

And when she opened them again, she was back in the garden. She shook her head slightly, and looked down to the ground. A small green bird was sitting on her foot, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

"Get lost," she growled at it. The bird didn't move. She sighed and flicked her foot, watching as the bird took flight and soared off into the distance. She thought back to her dream.

"Home," she whispered faintly. Suddenly, her thoughts were with her sister. How long had she been asleep? Was Tootie still waiting on the stairs? She got to her feet and raced up the garden, throwing open the back door and pounding up the hall. She checked the clock on the wall. She'd been asleep in the garden for a whole hour, it was a miracle she wasn't sunburned.

Tootie was still waiting on the stairs, with her head in her hands.

"Hey, Toot," Vicky said sweetly. Tootie's head snapped up. That was the second time Vicky had called her Toot today. Tootie remembered the days, when she was younger before Vicky had changed, when her big sister used that nickname for her all the time. It used to make both girls explode into fits of giggles.

"Hey Vicky," Tootie replied. Tootie had never given her sister a nickname before; she hadn't dared.

"Still not shown up huh?" Vicky asked as she slipped on her shoes.

"No," Tootie whispered sadly.

"Never mind," Vicky said, grabbing her sister's hand and pulling her to her feet. "You still want to come to the mall with me? I mean, I know I'm no Chester and you know, won't be holding your hand or smooching you or anything..."

"Gross," Tootie said, laughing a little.

"Come on," Vicky said, throwing open the front door. "Who needs boys?"

Her jaw dropped when she saw Chester and Timmy standing on the other side of it, both wearing identical apologetic grins. The first thing that both girls noticed was that Timmy's arm was in a sling.

"Sorry I'm late," Chester said, taking Tootie's hand. Vicky turned away from the door, feeling as though the slight promise of feeling better had been snatched away from her at the last minute. It was a cruel joke.

"Vicky wait!" Tootie called. "You could still come," she said, oblivious to both Chester and Timmy shaking their heads frantically.

"No, I-" Vicky said, forcing every word over the lump in her throat.

"Come on, please Vicky," Tootie begged. Vicky paused, her hand on the stair rail. A small green ladybug was making it's way up her arm. It seemed to pause when it sensed her looking at it. Vicky sighed.

"Ok," she said, even though she wasn't sure why. When that door had opened, you could have cut the tension between Timmy and Vicky with a knife.

-

A/N: This story and I have issues. I can't pretend that from here on out it will be any good because there's something about it that I don't understand yet I am trying to write it anyway, if that makes any sense. It will, most definitely, decisively and... er... gramatically, be finished, but it might suck rather hard. I'm not going to rush it, and I will try my best with every single chapter. Once it is finished I will go back and try and fix everything that I did wrong. So thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story and yes, I will shut up now. -Sky.