A Writing Exercise: Moira Ilan

Moira's Family:
Father: Selig Ilan
Mother: Judith Ilan
Oldest brother: Daniel Ilan - 18 1/2
Older sister: Naomi Ilan - 16
          Moira Ilan - 14
Baby brother: Benjamin Ilan - 4

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mother was in one of her moods again.

She was yelling from downstairs to her oldest son, "Daniel! Turn down that damn music! I've got a headache and Benjamin's trying to take a nap, for - "

She was interrupted by Naomi's presence as she strode through the room, guitar slung over one shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out with some friends," she said as she turned and walked away.

"Oh, no, you don't!" She grabbed the closest thing to her, Naomi's guitar, and it slipped off her shoulder. "And what the hell do you think you're wearing?"

"My clothes."

"You look like your brother, dressed like that!"

"Yeah, whatever." She picked up the guitar and started to walk away again.

She inhaled sharply. "Don't 'whatever' me, Naomi!"

But Naomi continued to walk away.

"Come back here, you insolent little girl!!"

Naomi hated being called a little girl, Moira knew, but she just kept walking away.

At the top of her lungs, mother yelled, "You're going to be late for dance practice!"

At this, Naomi stopped. "Last dance practice was two weeks ago, Mom! Come on!" She turned again, jingling her keys, and walked out.

Mother was in the kitchen, slamming the cupboard doors, futilely looking for something. Moira sat motionless on the living room couch, still waiting to ask her question. Outside, she could hear Naomi speed off in her brand-new birthday present, and Mother screaming from the kitchen, "How dare you defy me like this!" Something that sounded like a drinking glass or maybe a glass plate shattered against the kitchen's far wall.

Daniel, the oldest, came bounding down the stairs, perfectly dressed in his suit and tie. Passing right by Moira, he went straight to the kitchen.

"It's 5:00, Mom. I'm gonna head down to the office with Dad for a bit. Is there anything you want me to tell him for you?"

Her voice was weak, tired now, worn out from her outburst. "No, Danny, that's alright."

"Alright, Mom. Love you."

"Bye, Danny."

He walked through the living room again.

"Daniel?"

"What, Moira?"

"Uh, I kinda need to get this posterboard for a project ... "

"Well, I don't have time to take you today. Ask Mom."

________

Moira knew that morning when she woke up that she was sick. She had that sort of tired, "blah" feeling, where she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to get out of bed or not. She figured, if she just laid there and didn't get up and ready like usual, someone would eventually figure out she was sick and give her permission to stay home.

She could hear her sister getting ready in the bathroom next door, and the creak of the floor as her mother walked into Benjamin's room.