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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Personal · #1178550
Third chapter to my novel-in-the-works.
The clouds had moved on and in their place the sun hang suspended amidst the pale blue sky. Caprice stepped outside and began to walk home. She absorbed the view, the sounds and the smells. Someone was mowing their lawn in the distance. A few people were jogging down the street. She could hear cars rumbling over the pavement. The leaves and the grass all gleamed with sparkles of moisture that enhanced their vitality. She took a deep breath and soaked up the warm wind. Everything was perfect in that moment. In that moment she could relax entirely and energize herself. That was her fun time. Caprice walked home singing music in her head and feeling the beauty around her.

As she arrived outside of her house, her pace slowed. She paused. Nothing would satisfy her more than to remain outside unnoticed by anyone; an observer, but she felt obligated to go inside, so she did.

"Oh, good, you're home. I made spaghetti. Help yourself." her mom was in the kitchen putting noodles on her plate." So, how was it? Did you get much done? Learn anything new?"

"It was alright, we just talked, " said Caprice, taking a smaller portion of spaghetti and then pouring herself a glass of water.

"Is she a good therapist? If you don't like her, or want someone else for some reason, just let me know, I'm sure I could find someone else. I want you to be ok with whoever you end up sticking with."

"No, she's good."

The rest of dinner was eaten without conversation. Every so often Caprice looked over at her mother. No table manners at all. She was hunched over her plate, stuffing the food into her mouth as though she had been starving for a month. Disgusted, Caprice tried not to look over again, and chewed her food faster so she could leave.

Caprice really did love her mom, very deep inside. But had she not been her own mother, Caprice would have very little patience for her at all. She was wonderfully friendly and an all around good person, but she was void of any real personality and had never learned to be graceful...or really anything associated with being female. Though, no matter what her mannerisms were like, the worst thing that Caprice had ever noticed, was how incredibly impatient she was with Caprice's little sister. She was only 5 years old and one of the most active kids around. It was verging on wrong how little patience her mother had.

As Caprice got up to put away her dishes she asked, "Where's Maddy? Shouldn't she be home by now?"

"She was invited to her friend's house for dinner. She should be back soon. Then I should give her a bath and get her ready for bed." She paused in thought, "Let's see tomorrow I've got a few things going on at work. I've got a meeting at the end of the day, let's hope I'm not late again to pick up Maddy. And then it's Friday, and I've got to bring her to your father's place."

She continued talking for a while, but she always did. Caprice heard it all before so she just walked away to her room. If she stayed, her mom would just start talking about Caprice's dad and complain about how he always gets the wrong impression of everything, which he does, or she would start talking about her boyfriend who she hasn't seen in a month.

Alone in her room, her mom's talking had grown faint and distant and Caprice wondered how long she'd keep talking before she realised Caprice wasn't listening. Caprice got out her homework. English. She hated that subject and the only reason she took it was because she had to or she wouldn't pass high school. In elementary school, English was one of her favourite classes. That was because all it involved was grammar and spelling. It was very technical and simply a matter of remembering rules. Then in high school they'd spend a month doing nothing and then suddenly they would be expected to write a test, do a presentation the next day and then hand in an assignment. Caprice really didn't understand why the workload wasn't more evenly distributed. So she began to hate that class and it only got worse when they had to read uninteresting books and then write about them as though they had loved them. The good part about English class though, was Friday. Every Friday was Philosophy Friday. Each week they learned about a philosopher and then they discussed whether or not it made sense to them and why. Caprice was always very involved with that part of the class, but the rest of the time was torture.

The phone rang.

"Caprice. Phone."

Caprice got up and answered it. It was Jeff. Jeff was the President of Student's council. He called to remind Caprice to book the dance that she had already booked the day before. Shortly after the matter was resolved, Jeff ventured to continue talking. Luckily Caprice had glanced at the microwave and saw that it was nearing on 6:30. She had a rehearsal for her play. Caprice ended the conversation as politely as she could, got her things and headed out the door towards the school.

The rehearsal was a nightmare. First off, the actors didn't arrive until at least 10 minutes later than they should have. Then none of them had even started memorizing their lines or doing the character work she had asked them to do. So instead of working on the actual scenes, she worked on character with them all and was very thankful when the time came to end the rehearsal. There were a couple no-shows and generally it wasn't a good thing. Caprice walked back home frustrated and tired.

When she got home, she had a shower and went to bed. She was exhausted and needed as much sleep as possible. Tomorrow would be another long day.
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