Teenage Drama, Chapter One
Chapter One: Home Life
There she sat on the big, plush sofa in the middle of the living room. She looked like a muddy pawprint on a clean white interior; totally out of place, unappealing, dirty and all around a total eyesore. The sofa was soft and comfortable, the TV was big and expensive, the carpet, drapes, and walls were a clean white, and the room was all around very lush and clean.
However the girl introduced earlier was nowhere near clean... Well, her hair wasn't. It was straight, and black, and incredibly shiny, but also weighed down with grease and oil. In fact, her hair was so greasy and gross that it stuck to her face and was flat against her head. Despite greasy hair, her complexion, although pale and sullen, was soft and smooth, albeit shiny from the oil.
Her clothes were clean and new. She had just put them on not too long before she sat on the sofa. Her mother puttered around the house, and moved quicker once she got close to her daughter. "Elijah, are you feeling okay?" She asked, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen and turning to her, a scared smile cracking across her face.
The girl stared at the TV as some obscure cartoon flickered across the screen. Suddenly, her head jerked to the side, and her face twitched. Then everything went calm again, and she cracked a smile. Elijah turned to her mother and said, with a soft, angelic voice, "I'm okay mom. I'm a little hungry. I haven't eaten."
Almost immediately, her mother turned around, on her heel, and bustled back into the kitchen. Pots and pans rattled, a refridgerator door opened and closed, water ran... the typical kitchen sounds. Elijah turned to face the TV again as a silent tear ran down her cheek. The expression on her face showed that she felt horrible for how scared her mom was of her.
She blinked the single tear away and watched whatever was on TV, although she wasn't watching it, just zoning out. Her greasy hair flickered at the end, and small pieces hovered and floated up around her head as if antigravity was turned on, but only on those pieces of hair. Clacking footsteps were heard on the tile, and then the plush carpet, as her mom entered the room with whatever she made.
The pieces of hair fell limp and dead along her face, although some pieces stuck to her skin. Her mother pulled up a small table and set a tray with a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich onto it, along with a glass of soda and a small vase with a flower. Her mother forced a smile to Elijah and said, "I hope you like it," and bustled away, mumbling things to herself.
Elijah ignored her mother and picked up a spoon, and began eating the soup in front of her. It was delicious and perfectly made. She had no clue it was just soup from a can, but it was delicious anyway. The grilled cheese sandwich was the same. In fact, in sheer bliss, she ate everything quickly, almost animalistically. In fact, She ate like a dominant wolf trying to keep food away from a smaller, more submissive dog.
Upon realization of her food magically "disappearing" (or so she treated it) inside her stomach, she shrieked. "Mom!" She trembled as if she had just seen a ghost. Her mom ran down the stairs and looked at Elijah as if something horrible happened. Elijah just looked at her mother with soft, teary eyes and said, "My food is all gone... Can I have some more?"
Her mother hesitated, and everything grew quiet. The TV even seemed to mute out entirely with the awkward silence that filled the room. She stood there, hands and knees trembling, and her lip quivering, as she tried to muster up the words. "U-uh, h-honey, I'm b-busy cleaning the up-upstairs... Can you wait until I'm done?"
Unfortunately what she said was a mistake, because Elijah cocked her head quickly and stared at her mom with hollow green eyes. "What?" She asked, staring with her crooked head and her scarred lip in a small scowl. "What, mom?" Her mom just quivered in her small space and stammered to say words, but nothing came out.
The table with the vase, bowl, and plate flew across the room and shattered on the wall, remnants of food scattering along the clean white carpet. The girl stood up in a way that looked like she was pulled by a rope, instead of using muscles to stand. Elijah's posture dominated the room as her hair flickered and rose up around her head.
Small flecks of green light circled around each strand of hair like a confused, tiny firefly. She stood there. The room was completely silent except for the muffled and muted voices from the cartoon on the television screen. The only thing that could be heard were the heartbeats of the two in the room. One was fast and sporradic, the other was fast and heavy. Elijah turned on her heel and faced her mother, who bolted out the front door and down the road without another word.