Starry Skies

Chapter 2. Arriving

It was a very long plane ride to Washington International airport. Along the way, I sought entertainment in imagining what it would be like if everyone suddenly jumped up and started singing like in musicals. Plane Boredom, I would call it. A riveting tale of a poor girl imprisoned, her imagination tested mercilessly. Will she prevail? Or will lack of amusement bring her down? If only life could be like a giant cheesy musical all the time. I bet there would be a lot less conflict in the world. I laughed quietly to myself imagining my friends and I dancing and singing in unison to a catchy tune. But I was leaving all of them behind now... My smile disappeared, an unfamiliar feeling of longing setting in.

In hopes of distraction, I glanced out the window. As fate would have it, there was but an un-ceasing blanket of gray cloud, spread across the vast ocean of open sky below.

I turned my attention to my right ,to mom. Her mouth gaped open, emitting a noisy soprano snore, accompanied by an even louder dad, in bass. I smiled endearingly at the two. I knew that if I woke them and asked for a bit of peace, they would probably deny their raucously persistent snores. One seat over my sister Chloe's tense figure came into view.

Yup, she was still scowling, arms crossed, hunched over, in no mood for chitchat. She had been acting this way ever since we loaded the car. I sympathized with her, but honestly, couldn't she just accept the fact that we were living someplace else? It would relieve my parents of so much anxiety. Apparently she couldn't.

Sighing, I bent over and took out my old sketchbook of my bag. I had originally brought the worn book bag to put necessities in because I usually don't carry around purses and stuff.

Too much work to haul a bag full of every thing you own around, you know? But I ended up dumping in my Sherlock Holmes, and sketching materials too.

I have to have something occupying my mind, or I can get a little weird. Lets just say my imagination…runs wild.

I flipped abused book open to a blank page, and began penciling in the outline of a wolf absentmindedly. I could feel a smile coming on as the head came into view, then the body, then the tail…It was very satisfactory making something out of nothing.

As I drew I envisioned my wolf sprinting through a dense green forest, head held high. I could see him flying through the trees, paws crashing against damp leaves and underbrush. I envisioned his coal black eyes; warm and proud, smiling as he flat out sprinted, the wind combing through bronze colored fur. Enjoying the run…

By the time I had snapped out of my reverie, there was a lifelike russet brown wolf, grinning lopsidedly at me from the page. I smiled back, thinking of Jacob Black.

* * *

After the movers had finished lugging all the furniture inside and I had unpacked, I slipped on my Jacket, heading outdoors to explore. I had read page after page about the small town of La Push. It was time to fins out if it was really as gloomy and inconsequential as Stephanie Myers made it out to be. Nobody said much as I walked past, into the front hall. They all lay collapsed on the couch, as though they had barely enough energy left to function. The move had taken a lot out of everyone, but I was too curious to just sit around.

I slipped out the door and gazed out into the quiet night sky. There wasn't a cloud to be seen, and the stars lit up the night sky like thousands of tiny twinkle lights, glowing in unison. The air was still, and strangely silent.

It was very different from the traffic-filled, clamorous streets of Chicago. But it was a good silence. The kind of subdued hush that makes you want to sit down and write a poem. Contemplative…

I inhaled the clean, brisk air, remembering how back home the air had always been exhaust-filled and hazy from pollution. I really liked this place. Right now, La Push wasn't my prison, it was my home.

Pacing along the dark streets, or paths, rather, I could fathom the chirp of crickets, and occasionally, hoot of an owl, hidden in the canopies.

And then I could make out the faint crash of waves. I quickened my pace. Could it be the ocean?? After following the noise, steadily growing louder, for a while, I came upon the famous First Beach.

It was amazing. I stood mesmerized, watching the water lap peacefully at the sand, small rocks and pebbles rolling backwards and forwards with the tide. I could see the moon glinting off the surface, creating an unearthly white glow that lit up the entire scene in beautiful serenity. The waves created a rhythmic lullaby, easing my senses, making me forget everything else. The move, a new school to go to, having no friends, being the outsider, none of that mattered at that moment. I just stayed there, unmoving, spellbound by the tranquil vista.

It had been a very long time since I'd visited the beach, nevertheless even seen the ocean, except for those nature programs. But seeing it on t.v didn't come close to experiencing it myself. I can't say how long I stood there, utterly still, but eventually I realized by looking down at my glow-in-the-dark watch, that it was nearly midnight. My parents would be freaking out by now.

Shoot, I thought. They're gonna kill me. They'll probably starve me, and force me to do fifty push-ups a day, and maybe even sell me off for sneaking out or something!

I needed to go, face the music, say goodbye to life...

But if I left it would be as though I were never there. It would be too much; I couldn't just go.

One of my favorite quotes resounded in my head. I walked to the edge of the beach, and pulled my grandfathers switchblade from my pocket. I stared soulfully at a wise-looking old oak, and carved in it's trunk the words which truly fit the moment.

'Birds sing after a storm...Why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?'

-Rose Kennedy

Parent's, that's why. I grumbled to myself. Sad to leave, I reluctantly tore my eyes away from the enchanting sight before me, and headed back towards my "home".

Out of breath from running, I burst through the door, to the worried faces of my mom and dad, pacing around in the hall. They both sighed in a mixture of relief and anger when they saw me, expressions torn between happiness and fury. Lets just say the fury won over the happiness. Oh boy, was I ever gonna get it.

Mom was the first one to pounce. "Charlotte Delia Swanson!" Would you care to explain to us just where you've disappeared to for the last five hours?? We were worried sick about you! I can't believe you'd do this to us Charlotte! We haven't been in this house for a day yet, and you're already gallivanting off on us without even so much as mentioning where you're going!"

I opened my mouth to tell her she hadn't even looked up when I headed out the door, but without missing a beat, dad began raving the second mom had finished.

"Yes, how could you shrug off your responsibilities Charlotte?? I don't expect you to notify me every time you leave the house, but for pities sake, five hours gone, without any notice of leaving whatsoever? That is simply unacceptable. We are very disappointed in you." He scolded in his 'Charlotte you've failed us again" voice.

I couldn't hold back the tears this time. It was just too much when my parents said they were disappointed in me. It's like hearing someone tell you you've done an un-rightable wrong, and there's nothing you can do to fix it. Normally I would have just gone to my room and forgotten it, but not tonight. I was sick and tired of hearing this every time I did something wrong, and I was going to put a stop to it. Well...for tonight.

" Yeah?" I spat back. "Well maybe I was having a life. Maybe I just wanted, to enjoy the evening a little. Okay? Is that so horrible? And don't act like I'm the bad guy! I walked past you two, and neither of you even spared me a GLANCE."

My sister silently stole out the room. She could tell things were going to get ugly. They did.

I was like a provoked tiger who'd been stuck inside a cage for too long. But I was outside of the cage now. And I was right in my parents faces, claws unfurled, all traces of reason lost. Ferocious, piercing words launched out of my mouth, cutting deep.

" I'm a person too remember?? I know we just moved but, just because you're tired, doesn't mean I have to sit around too! And I'm tired of hearing you say you're 'disappointed'! It makes me feel awful every time, and you know it. I didn't commit a crime or anything, so just calm down! I'm sick of you ruining my life!!"

I was outright yelling, hot tears streaming down my cheeks to accentuate the vehemence.

With that, I stomped up the stairs without a second glance. I didn't slow down until I reached my bedroom. Then I collapsed against the door of my room, not caring an ounce that my eyes were red, and a headache was beginning to issue. The sobs shook my body, spheres of salty liquid poured from my eyes and soaked the front of my jacket. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except for the fact that my parents had single handedly ruined one of the best night of my life.

The weeping quieted after a while, and I heaved myself to my feet. I shuffled over to where my old, four-poster bed stood at the corner of the room. Flopping down miserably, I waited for the sweet escape of sleep to come, and ease my senses. A cold breeze blew in from the opened window, making me shiver. Goose-bumps appeared on my arms and legs, but I didn't care. I could survive the cold. The torment, the agony, the memory of my parent's faces, distorted in shame and anger. I could survive this night. It would be a long struggle, but at least if I died in misery, I would have the memory of the beach. I reminisced about the unworldly scene I had encountered earlier that evening, and before long, I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.