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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1139565-Mermaids-Chapter-2
Rated: ASR · Other · Young Adult · #1139565
Okay Rachel is going home with the devil i.e her mother what shall ensue shall ensue...
Their ride ā€˜homeā€™ was an extremely unpleasant one. My mother and stepfather did try to make polite conversation I should give them that but I was in no mood to talk so I kept my mouth firmly shut. I mean seriously, she had to be crazy to think I would just welcome her with open arms after what she had done and she had to be just plain insane to think Iā€™d talk to a guy stupid enough to marry her after that. So instead I stared out the window at the scenery.

Whitdale was undeniably beautiful. Everything from the buildings to the lawns were neat and clean though they al had their own personal touches of cheer with bright signs on buildings and plants and flowers of every colour bursting from the ground. The place was unnervingly quiet compared to the town Iā€™d just come from and worst of all there were happy, smiling people all around. I hated it.

Before anytime had passed the car was pulling to a stop in front of a very pretty two-storey house. The lawn was a deep green and looked and smelled freshly cut with a lovely tree that had a ring of smooth stones around its base growing out of the middle of it. Instead of the usual heavy pavement path there was a cobblestone one leading from the sidewalk up to the deck.

The house itself was an amazingly yellowish-white colour, like the colour of vanilla ice-cream, with a starch white roof and I couldnā€™t help staring at it as I got out of the car. For some reason the place seemed to emanate happinessā€¦a feeling I really did not wish to feel. Yet it still gave me a slight pang to think I would not be able to stay so long especially as I could smell something so very alluring in the air.

ā€œWell this is the houseā€¦do you like it Rachel?ā€

I tensed suddenly as my motherā€™s rather hopeful voice reminded me that I was not alone, unfortunately. ā€œItā€™s lovely Mrs. Hart.ā€ I said, emphasising the Mrs just so she understood I did not think of her as my mother. I felt her stiffen and though I wasnā€™t alive with satisfaction I had at least shown her I wasnā€™t fooled by her act.

ā€œThank you.ā€ She said a bit tearfully. What an actress. ā€œAre you coming inside for a while Mark dear?ā€

ā€œUh no. Iā€™m late for a meeting anyway.ā€ I heard him kiss her and I rolled my eyes in disgust thankful that my back was turned to their display. ā€œIā€™ll see you later.ā€ Then the car revved and I listened until its roar faded into the distance.

Suddenly, my mother was standing in front me with a sad smile on her face. Can anyone say drama queen? ā€œLetā€™s go in now.ā€ And with that she was leading me up the path, onto the deck and then threw the front door into the house.

My mouth dropped open, I couldnā€™t help it: it was stunning. We had stepped right into a formal sitting room There was a circular, mahogany coffee table surrounded by five burgundy armchairs and some of the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen adorned the walls. All on a nicely waxed and polished hardwood floor. The room screamed class and money. Mum had done well for herself.

Once again my motherā€™s voice cut through my trance-like state. ā€œWell this is the sitting room.ā€ No duh Sherlock. ā€œItā€™s very formal for our tastes but our jobs entail that we have more than a few important dinner guests.ā€ She seemed nervous and her eyes seemed to be pleading with me. To do what I neither knew nor cared.

ā€œItā€™s lovely.ā€ Now that was the understatement of the century I must confess for that room could be described as nothing short of regal even in its simplicity.

She nodded curtly and through a door to our left, directly into the kitchen. My only impression was of intense sunlight for then I was immediately rushing behind my mother who was already halfway up a flight of stairs. The first floor was exceedingly plain. A simple hardwood floor in a hallways lined with doors; three on the right and four on the left. It was to the first door of the four on the left, one almost directly opposite the stairs and squashed against the wall, that we stopped outside.

ā€œYouā€™re roomā€™s up thereā€¦Iā€™ve put a few things you might need but we need to go shopping for the other things you might need or want.ā€ She said as she fumbled through her not-so-deep pocket. Finally she stood upright and gave me a wary look in the eyes as she handed me a key on a small blue ribbon. ā€œThis is the key to your door so you can have your privacy when you want itā€¦um thereā€™s a bathroom up here too so you can tidy up and everything one time.ā€

ā€œThank you.ā€ It was the least I could say as I turned and unlocked the door. Although I still heard her sigh as I made my way up the dark stairwell and I sighed too though only when I was sure she had closed the door. Then I reached the top and was temporarily blinded by sunlight. The minute my vision cleared I just stood there in shock.

The floor was covered in sparkling white tile and the walls were almost non-existent because of all the windows. A queen-sized bed complete with a huge mahogany headboard and side tables was pushed against the wall along with a single door. On the right wall where there were no windows were two bookshelves almost completely empty but on my left was, in order of closest to farthest, a mahogany wardrobe, a pair of double glass doors behind a sheer curtain and a mahogany table with a swivel chair.

I walked further in, letting my eyes drift about. Then I let my curiosity get the better of me and I quickly opened the glass doors and walked onto a deck of sorts with the roof only covering half of it so it also seemed like a balcony. There were two long lawn chairs, each one close to a wall with its own little table. I moved closer and closer to the railing and looked over. Immediately I was buffeted back by a gust of wind heavy with the same smell from before but now I knew what it wasā€¦the sea. The house was unbelievably close to it and my view simply took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes.

That was when I turned around and went back inside, shutting the door behind me. My sight was blurring with tears but I managed to make my way to the bed and I dropped my bag on the floor before crawling onto the stretch of blue sheets. They werenā€™t just a plain blue either they had little drawings of seaweed, fish and bubbles on it and the pillow even had my name ā€˜Rachel Merā€™ embroidered across it.

ā€œOh motherā€¦ā€ I flopped onto the bed. This was too much in such a short space of time. Mother seemed nice now, sincerely so, but I could not let go of the memories, of that memory.

I was newly two when it happened. I was in fact supposed to be sleeping after so much excitement and food at my birthday party but I wasnā€™t. I was playing with my presents when I heard my motherā€™s voice loud and angry and my fatherā€™s soft and pleading one. I like any other curious toddler I went to se what had happened. They were arguing or at least she was arguing. I remembered her saying that married life did now suit her and neither did family life.

I had only thought of how pretty she looked with her dark red hair flowing free and in that small green shirt and shorts. Then Iā€™d snapped back to the attention when I heard my name. It was my father. He was asking: What about Rachel? Her words haunted and still haunt me to this day: What about her?

The a car horn sounded and she was gone in a flurry of hair. I would never forget that night. Never forget my fatherā€™s tears. He had loved her so much that he could never be with another woman and so I was the light of his life. His little treasure. His daily reminder of the woman heā€™d lost.

I hadnā€™t realized it but I was full-out crying. It was sad to think she hadnā€™t loved me, hadnā€™t loved him. But it was all in the past, I had to put it behind me, at least for the moment.

So I got up quickly and riffled through my bag. All my clothes were dreary but I was determined not to look like a grieving window. I chose a red T-shirt and faded jeans and opened the only other door which I guessed led to the bathroom.

It did. A sparkly, clean bathroom decorated in green and white. There were two large windows but they were covered by curtains, thankfully, so I was able to scamper to a little tub-shower combination without having to worry about the slight possibility of someone seeing me. Then I spent my wait for the tub to fill deciding which of the assortment of scented bubble baths I would use. I finally chose one with the scent of the sea.

The tub was filled only a moment or two afterward ad I laid back content in the warm, soapy water. The sea scent seemed to wash right over me, washing away my worries and fears. I was so relaxed I fell into a doze and began to dream.

ā€œRachel.ā€ The voice was soft and welcoming and I looked up expectantly. It was with a jolt I realized I wasnā€™t in the bath anymore but on a stretch of beach and the voice belonged to a girl standing just in front of the water. She seemed older than me in more ways than just physically because her eyes seemed deep with some sort of wisdom that only comes with age. With that kind of look your grandparents might give you when youā€™ve come to them with a problem about your parents, a look that said I know exactly what to do but Iā€™m going to sit here and talk in riddles and gibberish so you can have the honour of working it out yourself. She also had that smile, the sweet, innocent, benevolent smile of someone who would never let anything happen to you.

ā€œCome along Rachel.ā€ Her brown hand was outstretched towards me a gust of wind blew towards me bringing such a breath of sea air I felt dizzy. Her dark hair was twisted up and still yet fluttered only slightly in the breeze and her glittering green dress that almost appeared to be made of seaweed did not flutter at all. ā€œYouā€™ll be coming soon Rachel. Soon.ā€

ā€œRachel!ā€

I jumped awake quickly and immediately realized Iā€™d been asleep for a while. For one thing the water was freezing cold and for another the light behind the curtains had faded into oblivion. I scampered out of the bath barely wrapping a towel around myself before my mother came into the room.

ā€œAre you alright dear? Iā€™ve been calling and calling and you didnā€™t answer so I got worried.ā€ She seemed to be walking on glass and I realized she had changed into a nice blouse and skirt. ā€œDinnerā€™s ready nowā€¦I called you earlier for lunch but you didnā€™t answer either soā€¦Iā€™ll just wait downstairs for you.ā€ Then she was gone just as quickly and unexpectedly as sheā€™d come.

I sighed my breaths still coming in gasps. That dream had seemed more than just a dreamā€¦more than just real. I shook my head. I didnā€™t have time to worry about that kind of stuff and instead I struggled into my clothes and brushed my hair before heading down the stairs to her. She then led me right down back to the kitchen but stopped at a wooden, sliding door.

ā€œWell this is it.ā€ She seemed nervous about something but what that could be I didnā€™t know I had already met her husband what more could there be? At least that was what I thought before she opened the door.
© Copyright 2006 Melissa-Ann Gustave (magustave at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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