Monday, May 13, 2013

River Fall



River Fall
by Izzy S.

It was one of the most awkward car rides of my life.
    To be specific, it was the second. The first was when my grandfather told me my parents had drowned. There wasn’t much talking on that trip. I wish I could say the same for this one.
    Zeeta, my aunt, was rambling on about how much I was going to love my new home and what it looked like and how she was an artist and all that stuff. I didn’t do much talking, since Zeeta did enough talking for the both of us and I didn’t really have anything to say. All I did was nod and mumble stuff like “sounds fun” and “great.”
    As I looked out the window I saw small houses flashing by. They all seemed to be next to a river, which really freaked me out.
    Ever since my parents drowned when I was six I’ve been afraid of water. All that pressure, weighing down on me, crushing me… Even the thought of it made me woozy.
    “Well?”
    My head snapped back towards Zeeta. ”What?”
    “Do you like painting?” Zeeta repeated.
    I nodded, my cheeks turning slight pink. “Yeah.”
    Before she could say anything else we pulled into a short driveway. I peered out the window, wondering what the house Zeeta had described so eagerly looked like.
    To be honest, it looked like a regular art gallery, exactly the same as Zeeta had described it. It was sky blue, small, and right by the water, just like every other house in this neighborhood.
    Zeeta opened her car door and stepped out. “Welcome to your new home.”


As soon as I stepped inside Zeeta started showing me around.
    “Here’s the kitchen,” she said, pointing to a small, dark room with white and blue tiles and a tiny table off to the side.
    I peered inside, wanting to get a closer look at the place where I would be eating from now on, but Zeeta pulled me back. “I usually eat out on the deck.”
    “Come on.” She beckoned towards a small hallway. ”I’ll show you the other rooms.”
    I followed her to the bathroom, which had basically everything a bathroom usually had, a sink, toilet, shower, and a wastebasket. This floor also had white and blue tiles, which kind of aggravated me.
    Then I saw Zeeta’s bedroom, which was a carpeted room a little bigger than a closet with a few paintings hanging all over the walls. It had a twin bed, as well as a nightstand.
    After that I saw Zeeta’s workroom, which looked pretty much the same as her bedroom, minus the bed and nightstand and plus a table and an easel.
    Then we went back into the main room. It was Zeeta’s gallery, where most of her paintings hung so people could look at them. It was carpeted, and it was blue and white patches like the kitchen and bathroom, which bothered me even more.
    I stared at the paintings for few seconds. Most of them were waves crashing on sandy or rocky beaches. There were a few of trees and flowers, as well as a few other types of plants that I don’t know the name of. There weren’t any people or cars or anything else that would lead someone to think this was a modern society.
    Zeeta started to walk towards a ladder in the corner of her gallery. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
    I climbed up the ladder after her, vaguely excited to see the room I would be sleeping in for probably my teenage life. When my head poked above the floor, I gasped.
    There was a small bed in the corner, along with a trunk at the foot of it, a nightstand, a bookshelf, and a bean bag chair. It had a nice white carpet, without a speck of dust or mud on it, and blue walls, just like they were downstairs. It was pretty much a loft with a bed, but it still felt very open.
    “This is my room?”
    Zeeta nodded, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Sorry it’s kind of small. It was the only room I had that wasn’t being used…”
    “Oh no, it’s great,” I said, but it was more than great. It was perfect. My room at my grandfather’s house had been way too cluttered, filled with bookshelves and desks and drawers. In this room I could breathe easier, almost like I left my troubles behind at my grandfather’s house.
    “I’m glad you think so.” Zeeta smiled at me, a simple smile, just like the room. “I’ll go get your bag, then you can unpack.”
    I watched as she climbed, down the ladder, leaving me alone in my perfect room.


    After I had unpacked, Zeeta made sandwiches. She was planning on making ham and cheese, but since I was a vegetarian I asked for something else. Zeeta obliged, and my cheese and avocado sandwich was great, although the bread was a bit dry.
    We ate on the deck, like Zeeta had said she usually did. I watched her long, honey blonde hair wave around in the wind. It was choppy, like she cut it herself and didn’t really care what she looked like. Her emerald green eyes sparkled in the mid-day sunlight.
    I reached around to touch my raven black hair, tucked back in a ponytail like usual. To be honest, it had been so long since I’d looked in a mirror with my hair down I’d forgotten what it looked like and what length it was.
    Zeeta asked me about my experience with painting, and I asked her the same question, which was kind of stupid since she obviously had a career involving the arts. We discussed different styles of painting and her art gallery. Everything was wonderful. It was one of the happiest moments I’d had since my parents died.
    The only problem was the river. The whole time I tried not to look at it, tried not to imagine it crushing me. But I knew it was there, waiting.


    The next morning, I woke up at about eight thirty. I was surprised, since I was expecting to be up at the crack of dawn due to the window shining sunlight down on my face.
    I sleepily climbed down the ladder onto the main floor, still in my pajamas. I wandered around until I found Zeeta.
    “Hi,” I said when I finally found her in the workshop. She seemed to be working on the beginning of a new painting, which was sitting on the easel. I couldn’t quite tell what it was yet, but the few colors she had delighted me.
    “Hi. Do you want some breakfast?” Zeeta asked, turning towards me.
    I nodded, my stomach growling. A few minutes later I was sitting in a deck chair eating a waffle and strawberries.
    After we both finished, Zeeta gave me a few dollars and told me to go to the ice cream shop up the road.
    So I got dressed, put on my shoes and headed out the door. As soon as I set a foot outside, I started to sweat. Really, it felt like a million degrees outside.
    As I walked down the street, I didn’t see anyone else. Not a single person adult or child.
    Weird, I thought. I guess they’re all asleep.
    I continued along the road until I came to the ice cream shop. It was open, thankfully, and I ordered a chocolate cone. The ice cream guy put it on the counter and I went on my way.
    I started to wander, and before I knew it I was standing next to the river.
    My breath quickened. Don’t look at it, I told myself. Don’t look at it. I tried to step away, but my feet wouldn’t move. I seemed to keel over, falling into the river.
    Suddenly a hand grabbed my arm. I was pulled out of the water, gasping and choking.
    I stood, shaking slightly, and turned to face my rescuer, but there was no one there. I was alone beside the river.


That night, I was lying in bed when I saw something move outside my window. I sat up and peered outside. It was Zeeta, walking away from her gallery and deeper into town.
    I frowned and stood up. I climbed down the ladder and through the door, barefoot and in pajamas.
    After a few minutes of following Zeeta, being as quiet as I could, I found myself standing in front of a large brick building that I guessed was the town hall.
    Confused, I followed Zeeta inside. Once I was there, I saw about hundred people, women, men, and children, all staring at me.
    I stared back at them. “Zeeta, what’s going on?”
    Zeeta turned towards me, a guilty look on her face. “There’s something I have to tell you…”

5 comments:

  1. I want to read more! This story really sparked my interest. The descriptions of Zeeta's house and the town are very vivid.

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  2. Wow...this really got me going...what is with the blue and white? And who grabbed her arm at the river? And what is going to happen next...don't keep me in suspense!!

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  3. Absolutely masterful opening sentence, and what follows never disappoints. The little hints of oddity are nicely subtle. Well done!

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  4. This is an amazing story Izzy! I love all the detail you put into this. I especially liked your word choice and the descriptions. Your characters are very interesting and I want to read more! Please continue writing, Izzy.

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  5. I want raven black hair! I don't like to be kept in suspense, what happens next?

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