Soundtrack: "Your Love is a Song" by Switchfoot. The links for all the songs are in my profile. Enjoy!
"Alright, class! Your assignment for English is to research your family tree."
The students groaned as Ms. Beadle announced their assignment. The sun shone brightly just outside the window, and Gael couldn't help but wish he was outside somewhere. Anywhere but stuffy old English class.
"Now, don't groan yet! There are prizes involved for whoever can dig back the farthest. The grand prize is a fifty dollar gift card to the movies."
The class suddenly came alive like an electric shock had pulsed through it. Girls started chatting about how many people they could take, and boys about how they could sneak into an R rated movie.
"One more thing: this isn't just the tenth grade. You're competing against all of West Dune High." she paused for a moment. "Now, I know a select few of you can trace all the way back to the 1800's. For those who can't, I suggest you spend a good amount of time on this." she pushed a strand of bright red hair out of her face. "Class dismissed!"
Gael grabbed his books and headed out the door along with the steady flow of students hurrying to get home. He pulled the necessary homework out of his locker and dumped it in his backpack, which then became a good few pounds heavier. And they wonder why kids in our age have such bad posture . . .
He headed over to where he had chained his mountain bike to the black stair railing. He unlocked it, threw his leg over the seat and started on his way home.
It was a truly beautiful day. The desert sun baked over head, the trees lined up along the sidewalk offering occasional shade. Birds flew from tree to tree, some chasing each other through the branches. A siren wailed somewhere, beckoning responders to the scene of an accident. Gael didn't think much of it. Sirens went off all the time.
Arriving at his destination, Gael threw open the door and dumped his backpack in the foyer. "Mom, I'm home!"
No reply. Gael shrugged and closed the door, kicking off his shoes and heading into the living room. He turned on some TV - a documentary - and laid back.
For most teens, arriving home to an empty house was an odd occurance. Not so for Gael.
His mother had tendencies to disappear at the strangest times, occasionally returning with minor injuries. Once she had hurt her leg – which she refused to go to the hospital for. Gael might not be the most educated, but he was pretty sure he knew a broken leg when he saw one. Shockingly, within two weeks her leg had completely healed itself. Then, it was right back to the disappearances.
He was just getting into the history of the printing press when he remembered his homework. Gael grabbed a lap desk and got down to buisness.
Where does my history begin? He thought to himself. All I've ever known is my mom. It was true. He hadn't ever met his father. His mom never mentioned a dad, though she had said a word or two about grandparents. Oh, well. Might as well wait for her to get home to anwer my questions.
Gael closed his notebook and set his mind to a different topic – the lovely creation called Algebra. He wasn't worried in the least about his mom. She disappeared all the time, after all.
Minutes turned into hours, and Gael made dinner. The usual. His mom still wasn't home at nine, his allotted curfew.
Reluctantly, Gael got into bed. He knew his mom would be home within the hour. After all, he had already sent her a text message. It wouldn't be long now.
When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it's never good news.
Gael's eyes flickered open. A faint light came through the blue curtains of his room. Someone or a car was in the driveway.
He closed his eyelids, sure that his mom would open the door. She had be to home by now, after all.
Ding-dong.
"Mom. Can't you get the door?" Gael groaned, pulling pack the sheets and throwing his feet over the edge of the bed. He pulled down the high collar of his night shirt, not wanting to be embarrassed by whoever was outside.
Ding-dong.
Gael pulled himself to his door, his feet dragging. Jerking it open, he followed the hallway until he came to the stairs, which he then descended. Finally, he arrived at the front door.
He checked the peep-hole, which showed a police officer standing annoyedly on the doorstep. Gael flung the door open, only to be dwarfed by six feet of muscle.
"Good morning," he boomed, "Are you Gael Rivers?"
"Yes, sir. My mom's upstairs if you need her." Gael offered.
The hardened glare on the man's face softened into a look of pity. "No, son. I regret to inform you that at 1:57 am your mother was in a car with three other people. They were merging onto the highway when a semi blasted out of nowhere. All were killed instantly."
Gael's head began to spin. His legs went cold then numb. His throat tightened and his mouth went dry. A shiver worked its way up his spine, rattling his skull. It felt as if someone had stuffed cotton in his ears.
His mom was gone? No, it can't be. She's tough. Really tough. This man must have been mistaken.
"Kid, are you okay?"
Gee, way to be caring at a time like this.
Gael attempted to compose himself, but it yielded near impossible. "My mom's . . . . gone?" he stuttered.
The officer nodded mutely. "You still have someone here to look after you?"
Gael saw this question coming. He was now an orphan. One day he would look back and thank himself he did it, but at the time it seemed like a stupid thing to do. But Gael was a loner. He enjoyed being by himself. And that was what he decided to do. Be by himself.
"Um, yes sir. My mom's frined, Caitlin, will be here in a few hours." Gael silently cursed himself for lying to the law, but there was nothing he could do. He wanted to be alone. And it's not like there was no human named Caitlin. She was his mom's best – albeit weird – friend who lived a few blocks down the street with her seven loud, noisy kids.
The officer hesitated for a moment, obviously summing up the situation. "Okay, then. But give me a call when she gets here." he handed Gael a card. "Have a nice night, and I'm sorry for your loss."
Gael nodded, tightlipped, and closed the door. Slowly, he began the ascent to his room. Once again in his bed, he let loose the tears.
Fania gazed into her mother's eyes and knew something was wrong. "Mom?"
She looked at her daughter with tears in her eyes. "Honey, it's your dad."
She felt her whole world come crashing down.
Ever received a call that night. His father had been killed in an car accident.
Lying on the couch, He stared out the window at the garden his dad had so tirelessly worked at. Flowers were everywhere, some tropical and others native.
The sun came up, lighting up everything and calling kids to school. But Ever didn't move.
He stayed still on the couch, thinking of his father.
"Mom, calm down! It's fine! Well, not fine . . . " Dai trailed off in her search of words to comfort her mother.
"Dai Dawson! Your poor father is gone! 'Fine' is no way to describe it!" long blonde hair, damp with tears, clung to her face.
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying that we're going to be okay." she paused quietly, tears streaming down her face, "We're going to be okay,"
If only she could make herself believe those words.
Alright! So there is chapter 2! I have a few questions for you guys:
What book reference was in this chapter?
What is the reason(s) behind Bree's mysterious disapperances?
And where did Ms. Beadles name come from? It's a really old, yet one of my favorite, TV show.
If you guys can get them all right, I'll update on Friday! :D
Gael's 'convincing' the police officer was cheesy, wasn't it? I know it most likely wouldn't have happened that way, but I needed it to for the plot to move along. Also, unless it's comedy, I'm HORRIBLE at writing 'convincing' scenes. I know it wouldn't have happened that way, but it needed to.
Also, I apologize for being behind on reviews. I believe I've mentioned this, but in case I haven't, I have three siblings. And all four of us are in baseball / softball. And my eleven year old brother can pitch over sixty miles an hour, so he's CONSTANTLY training / at little league / at travel baseball. I'm not lying, either. It KILLS when he gets angry! XD So anyway, we're constantly at the baseball fields and when we're not, I have slightly more important things to do than write. More specifically, take care of our indoor farm – hamsters, dogs, cats, guinea pigs, ETC.
daphrose :
Thanks! And sadly, no. XD Yes, the prequel will be posted much later. Around chapter eight or nine. :)
Fanfictionia : Yes, it hurts VERY badly! XD Thank you! And I think this kind of answers your questions. Well, except the last one. But that will become abundantly clear in the next two or three chapter :) Believe me . . .
PurpleNicole531 : Thank you!
KimDavenport : Thank you! And let me just say that that was probably the best written part so far. I'm not usually that good XD Sorry . . . But yes! There will be a tinge of Chabrina. But that will be much later on. Might even be in a sequel if this idea even drags out that far. :) Thanks again!
ereader12 : Heh . . . neither was I :) I actually had the beginning planned out WAY differently, but when your hands seem to move on their own it comes out rather well XD I'm sorry to say there won't be any childhood in this ( as I think you can already tell ) But the prequel will only be about that! :)
ShyMusic : Thank you SO much! And I don't believe we've met – Hello, I'm weird! No, seriously XD I really am . . . :) But it keeps all the nutty people away, so . . . XD Thanks again!
ThatCrazyGal7580 : Thanks! The Rats raising kids will be in the prequel ( I think you might've made that out already :)) Thanks again!
So this is getting long. Oh, and I would have updated sooner, but I was enjoying my fourteenth birthday: at ten thirty at night watching Avengers: Age of Ultron. That was just . . . I don't have words . . . I'll just go with AWESOME! Best Marvel movie yet! Highly recomended . . . also, you know you're a homeschooler when your first in theater PG-13 movie is when you're fourteen XD
Anyway, I apologize for the length of this. I also apologize for killing off all the rats at once . . . Sorry! Have a nice night! Gotta go – I hear distant cries of fangirls / guys!