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Blech. I'm posting just to post now. Here's one of my asdfghjkl; not even close to beeeing finished.
The girl rode her bicycle down the lane, her sun-bleached blonde hair, slowly but surely falling out of her ponytail. It curled gently as the speed of her trek blew it behind her. She smiled as the setting sun glinted off of her dark sunglasses and laughed loudly as her tires squelched through the gravel on the road.
Red rust chipped off of her vintage bike as each pothole jarred her ahead. It was a faithful bike, steel rims, good tires, a sturdy frame that endured the wear it went through. It was a cruising bike, with curving handlebars and a large comfortable seat. No brakes, except the classic back-stop. The girl looked at home upon the black leather seat as she pedaled her way into the horizon. There was no worry, no fear. She was used to the bike, as the bike was used to her.
The girl finally stopped, though. She pressed gently on the petal and leaned sideways on the bike. She looked back down the road she had come. It was now twilight and she saw a pair of round headlights in the faraway distance. She knew it wasn’t safe to be biking in the road at night, especially being a girl with no one else around. She slowly rolled her bike into the cornfield that lined the road.
Everything inside the tall stalks smelled sweetly, fresh from the days light mist. She wheeled her bike farther in, knowing expertly, that there would be a clearing ahead. 200 yards into the crop was a small clearing of green grass. She knew from long years of helping the local planters that they always left a square in the middle of their years plantings, just in case they needed an emergency crop. The weather was so volatile you never knew whether your existing crops were going to survive or not.
The girl softly placed her bike on the ground and laid back on the amazingly crisp grass. She stared up at the constellations she has learned in school: Cassiopeia, Orion, she even found the North Star. The girl closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. It felt nice to finally be at rest, especially after a long day of running errands for her mother’s shop. She opened her eyes back to the sky and turned her head around in interest. The moon had finally risen; it was large and full, showering it’s silver rays upon the grass oasis. Everything was glistening from the dew-drops and it seemed magical. Even her bike was glowing.
The girl looked at everything in wonder and finally pulled at the leather satchel she had around her shoulder. She pulled out her Polaroid, since she only used classic film. She stood and moved back to marvel more at the scene. She just hoped it would turn out on film. She looked through the lens and smiled. Her finger snapped the picture and that was it. She needn’t delve into the magic, since it would only ruin it. The girl walked over to her bike, with a little skip in her step. She lifted it skillfully and pushed it out to the road. Not a car in sight.
She began pedaling, slowly at first, than faster. She knew she had to get home, for it was now closer to ten than it was to nine. No cars passed her as she made the turns and stops it took to get back to town. She took that for a good sign, as nothing to slow her down. The girl finally made it to the safe haven of neon signs and television glows and knew that the magic of the evening was gone. Commercialized civilization was where she dwelled now, and she hated every second of it. She rode past the local fast food restaurant and noted that more and more kids were now congregating there. She was disappointed; The girl remembered the times of the park and the woods, and the times of running through the cornfields as children, chasing crows. This saddened her, but she kept pushing on through the town.
At last she came upon the last street in town, bordered by a park and the woods. She saw her house, dimly lit at the park end of the street. She knew she was in trouble, but not too much of it. The watch in her bag only proclaimed 9:45, which wasn’t as late as she thought. The girl stopped riding once she reached her driveway. She dismounted and rolled her bicycle up the pavement until she parked it against the side of the house. She took a deep breather and walked towards the screened in porch that protruded from the house.
“Mom.” She said as the door swung shut behind her. Her mother was sitting in a petite wicker chair around a mosaic-tiled table, which she had created herself.
“Ellen Marie, where have you been?” Her mother looked stern, but there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“I was out riding mother. I’m sorry.” Ellen sat in the chair opposite her mother, smiling at the slight creak of the wicker.
“Ellie, I wanted to talk to you about time.” Her mother took a sip of her steaming tea as she addressed her daughter by the name she had pleaded to be called by. “I think it’s time you discovered more of it.”
“Really mom? You’re extending my curfew?” Ellie leaned forward to hear what her mother was going to tell her.
“Till ten thirty, but you have to promise me this won’t cause any delinquency.” Ellie laughed and promised her mother that she would never have to call home from the police station.
“Good, now go inside and get some dinner. It should still be warm.” Ellie thanked her mom and then entered her warm and eccentric home.
Mosaics were everywhere in her home. The floor, the tables, even the doors. Ellie’s mom was an artist, and her shop was popular to passing travelers and locals alike. Ellie sat down the blue and green tiled table and looked at her plate of home-cooked dinner. It was a classic family supper, country-fried chicken, potatoes, and of course, corn. Ellie picked up her fork and dug in, treasuring the taste of local grown sweet corn. Everything in her town tasted fresh, 24/7.
Ellie soon finished her dinner and the noticed how awfully quiet her house was.
“Mom, where’s Tahlia?” She yelled out to the porch.
“….David’s.” Ellie’s mom replied after a short pause. Ellie sighed. He was a bad influence on her, but she wouldn’t leave him. Tahlia was eighteen, two years old than Ellie, and she had already began making stupid mistakes.
“When is she going to realize he’s still on drugs ma?” Ellie said back.
“When she catches him doing them!” Her mom said in outrage. Ellie heard the screen door lock and then her mom was in the same room as her.
“I don’t know when Tahlia became so stupid. That boy does everything in the book and she won’t believe it! You know I caught him doing them in the bathroom?” Ellie was dumbfounded. She had never heard this before. She knew that David was known for being an abuser of everything under the rainbow, but she didn’t realize how often he used them.
“In our house? And Tahlia didn’t believe you?”
“No! That dumb girl! I kicked both of ‘em right out when she disagreed.” Ellie could almost picture the scene in her head. David, short and skinny, his brown hair lackluster from his neglectful behaviors. Then Tahlia, tall, a shocking brunette, and extremely tan. The epitome of health and beauty. Yet, she was wasting herself with a pathetic druggie. Ellie knew of only a few mishaps David had gotten her sister into, and those few included the police frequently.
Ellie’s mom sat down in a huff and started mixing up some loose tiles on the table, grumbling about how her daughter has become an imbecile. Ellie finished eating, a grimace constantly on her face, and then escaped to her bedroom.
Ellie’s room was her ‘great’ escape. She had glued all of her pictures in a straight line that curved around her whole room. She was currently working on a second line, directly above the first. Her dream was to fill the walls entirely. Ellie perched atop a wooden stool she had placed in front of her window and watched the playground; the swings rocked gently back and forth and the merry-go-round spun slowly. She took out her camera and took one picture, getting her window and breezy curtains in the frame.
“Just another to add to the wall.” She murmured to herself. She tossed her leather satchel onto the white beanbag chair she had in a corner next to her bookshelf. Ellie hopped off the stool, smiling at the way her feet thumped against the hardwood floor. She faced the mirror, which was decorated with postcards from vacations past, and gently combed her golden locks with her fingers. After her hair was generally knot free, she strolled over to her bed and laid back on the handmade patch-work quilt her grandmother had made for her. It smelled of freshly cut grass. Ellie inhaled the scent and picked up the notebook she had last written in.
Her teeth bit nervously into the back of her blue-ink pen as she decided what to write. She started to quickly journal about her days events and then of the brief history of her sister and David. She was sad to say, all the evidence pointed to Tahlia absolutely going insane. It all started much like this:
Tahlia met David through her best friend, Suzanna. Of course, Suzanna proclaimed that David was prime for the picking and the absolute best.
 zodiac virtues · Wed Jun 02, 2010 @ 03:50am · 0 Comments |
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