Unknown Eyes

Prolouge:

Three Days and Three Nights

    On the morning of April 17th, one of the only days in spring that is sunny and bright, a mother was having a child. The nurses were surrounding her waiting for the baby to come. The mother, Sparrow, had tears in her eyes. She was trying to be strong, but it was hard. The father, Thrush, waited and held her hand, worry for his wife showing plain on his face. Finally the baby, very small and crying loudly, arrived into the world. The two nurses rushed in and picked up the tiny baby gently, not wanting to hurt her. They went out a door in the corner of the main room and into a side room that was much smaller so they could get the baby cleaned and taken care of.

Sparrow took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Having this child was the hardest thing she had ever done in her entire life. She inhaled slowly and closed her eyes, then let out a shuddering sigh. She was smiling weakly at her husband when the two nurses came back in a few minutes later, grinning happily. They had the tiny baby wrapped up in a blanket fast asleep. They told the mother how great she had done and that the baby was healthy and, hopefully, if she opened her eyes by then, able to leave the hospital the next morning. When the nurses finished explaining how to take care of a baby, they softly handed the newborn child to Sparrow and quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

Sparrow looked down at the amazing little girl in her arms and couldn't believe that she had given birth to the beautiful child. It was tough, yet now it seemed like it had been quick and simple. She smiled warmly at the baby. She had soft pale skin, an adorable little nose, and light blonde fuzz for hair, with her eyes remaining shut. Sparrow couldn't wait for them to open; she wondered what color the eyes would be.

For three whole days and nights, the baby's eyes stayed closed tight. The parents grew impatient as they waited for the moment her eyes would see the amazing world around her; the brilliant blue sky, the light of the sun, and her parents' faces, warm and welcoming. After the first long day, they grew tired of sitting in the stiff wooden chairs, the only other things that were placed in the small room that their daughter was in, and so they drifted to the waiting room while the nurses watched the child. Nothing was happening and nothing did happen for a very long time.

As Sparrow sat in the silent waiting room that smelled like the hospital for the day, she thought about who her little girl would grow up to be. Sparrow wanted her to be sweet and kind to other people but also have an opinion and be herself. Mostly, Sparrow wondered what the color of the baby's eyes was. She wanted to know what her child's future held and silently wished they were brown like Thrush and her's , this would mean that her shift, or animal she could change into, would be a Bird and she will grow up in an easy environment with little work but a brilliant mind.

On the dawn of the fourth day, with a sky that was pink, red, and orange mixed beautifully together and smelled as if it was going to rain, the eyes of the tiny baby opened slowly to the world. She sat still for a moment, staring at the small, almost-empty room around her. The nurse caring for the baby at the time had fallen to sleep during the long night. Watching a child that does nothing but sleep all day is very boring. She jerked to consciousness when she heard the cry of the baby that was awakening. The nurse rose to her feet sleepily and walked toward the bed only to find the child staring up at her. She gasped and ran out the door and down the long, empty hallway to the waiting room.

"Her eyes. The baby's eyes! They opened!" The nurse said excitedly to the waiting parents. They looked at each other quickly and smiled nervously. Finally, they both thought, the baby's eyes opened! As fast as they were allowed to go in the hospital, they followed the nurse to room 307. The nurse opened the door to the small room and let the parents in. Sparrow rushed to the side of the bed that occupied their baby, wanting to see what lay inside. She looked in the small bed to find the little baby girl staring straight back at her, smiling with her hands waving wildly. Sparrow stood there for a moment before she stumbled back, gasping. Thrush was there to catch her, and then he looked over her shoulder at the baby's eyes and just stared with no words, mouth hanging open. What was there to say? Sparrow turned away and hugged her husband. She didn't know what to do. How was the life of her new family going to turn out with this problem? Their newborn baby girl had the strangest, and possibly the worst, thing in the history of Teleste; two different colored eyes, one a creamy brown and the other a pale green.

Author's note:

Yay! Finally! You must be wondering what is going on with this cliffhanger! Just wait to read more, this is going to be an awesome story, I promise! I just couldn't decide on how to start it so I kept rewriting the beginning. Sorry if it's a little confusing! (Any Questions? Review!) I really hope you like it though! Please review it! It doesn't take lots of time and I need your advice on what to do better. Review Please!

Lots of love,

Violet

2: Chapter 1: Courage to Form Words

Chapter 1:

Courage to Form Words

My eyes, they are the only things that make me different from anyone else here in our Kingdom, Teleste, yet the color of a person's eyes is what our lives are based on. It gives us our name, what province we will live in, what our work options are, and, most importantly, what our specific shift is. I wish that my eye color was normal; instead I have two different eye colors, one in each eye. My left eye is a light brown with amber flecks that shine in the light and my right eye is a soft, emerald color. Because of my different eye colors, no one knows what to do with me or where to put me. I am unknown, in fact, that is my name, Unknown. But in our kingdom's second language, Irish, it is Anaithnid. I am Anaithnid. I wish that I wasn't. I wish I could have a normal name and somewhere to belong. I wish that I was normal. I let out a long sigh. It's too bad that my wishes can never come true.

"You're doing it again, Ann!" My best friend, Hummingbird, tells me, rolling her dark brown eyes at me and giving me a playful smile. I come back to reality when I hear her voice, rich and full.

"Sorry, Ming!" I let out an easy laugh, but then my face turned serious and thoughtful when I continued. "I didn't mean to. It's just hard not to think about those things when so many people are turning sixteen years old and their powers are starting to come." I slowly explained while watching Elise, a girl who had her sixteenth birthday about one month ago, shift smoothly into a striped tiger and climb up into a pine tree to sit on one of the branches. When she morphed back to human form, all I could see of her through the pine needles of the tree were her golden-amber eyes.

"Just remember, you are still a person, okay? Promise me?" I tore my gaze from Elise and nodded, my light-blonde hair whipping in front of my face. I understand that I'm a person, but I feel she means more than just what she said. Ming understands what people are feeling and always seems to have some hope when no else can find any. She is just one of those few who see the good in everything.

"I will. Promise." I looked up at the sky and, judging by the sun's position, guessed it was about an hour before noon. Good, I'll be a few minutes early to my lesson. "Alright, it's about time for me to go meet Mirabelle. You should go now, too, if you don't want to be late to class. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely, as always! Goodbye, Ann!" She gave me a quick hug then ran down the stony walkway with her curly, shoulder-length chestnut hair bouncing to her footsteps. Ming has classes in Bird, which is one of our five provinces. Anyone who is between five and eighteen years of age goes to the classes of the province that is their eye color. There, they learn the history of Teleste, the antiquity of their province, what their shift is, the jobs available to them, and how to morph into their personal creature. I, however, don't have a class to go to since my shift is uncertain. Instead, they gave me a private tutor who will educate me about each of the five provinces. I get to know it all, but the price for that knowledge is two hours of extra study a day compared to every other person my age. The bright side is, though, I have the opportunity to tour the whole kingdom once and a while.

I turn and walk in the other direction that Ming went; toward a large grove of trees. This is where I have my lessons with my tutor, Mirabelle, underneath the leaves of the tall trees. Right now, they are all beginning to blossom. There are pale pinks, stunning lilacs, bright magentas, and beautiful whites, all blending perfectly like paint to form a vibrant ceiling above me. The grove's gorgeous scenery is one of the reasons I love to come here. The other is because it is always so peaceful and quiet. Since this orchard is the largest of the three that are inside the walls of Teleste, many people come here but may never hear or see each other. You are always alone with your thoughts.

I sprint through the woods weaving in between the thick trees while at the same time enjoying the smell of spring, rain, and flowers. I smile and start to dance, while at the same time I make my way to our familiar clearing. When I get there I examine the familiar and comforting surroundings. It is full of ankle high grass that I love to walk barefoot in because it is so soft and springy. Sitting at the edge of the area is hollow oak tree with a hole in the middle of its trunk and underneath it is an old, wooden bench with intricate designs on the back. I let my eyes roam over the clearing and I gasp, startled, and then let out a laugh. A sandy-orange and light brown patched cat with a white-furred underside is sitting in the shadows of the tall tree on the bench. I walk over to the small cat and sit down, "Hello, Mirabelle. Am I late?"

Mirabelle shifts into her human form, she is tall and skinny with straight, almost strawberry-blonde hair that reaches to her elbows. Her eyes are a stunning shade of amber, with dark green specks in them. I have always thought she was beautiful, but each time I tell her, she denies it with an excuse.

"Oh, no, you aren't late. I just wanted to start a little early today and since you usually come ahead of time, I supposed we could begin when you got here," she reassured me and raised her eyebrows when at the end, as if in question.

"Yes." I laughed at her odd expression and she smiled at me. Mirabelle and I have become very close over the past few years. I guess it's a good thing we have, otherwise it would be just plain miserable to come every day to see a person I am not comfortable around. "What are we learning about today?" I asked. Each day is something different, from looking at clouds to studying how a Fish uses its powers. Most of the time, it excites me and I enjoy learning new things, this is most likely because of Mirabelle's enthusiastic way of teaching and using different methods. We fill out papers, play an interviewing review game, observe things in real life that we have studied, and have thoughtful discussions.

"Today we are going to review the traditions and life in Teleste. In our Kingdom, we base every, single detail of our daily lives on the color of peoples' eyes. There are the five provinces: Fish, Bird, Dragon, Insect, and Feline. Each area is meant for a different eye color group. Can you tell me what color is for which province?" She asked, beginning a discussion for the day.

"Fish is for blue eyes," I recited, having memorized this list since I was young. "Bird for brown eyes, Dragon for green, Insect is hazel, and Feline is for the people with amber eyes."

"Yes!" She exclaimed, smiling. She tucked her hair behind her ear and continued. "So when a baby is born, the first people to see the eye color are the parents. Then, the baby's eye color is announced to the Kingdom, also telling who the parents are."

"I was different, though, since I have two eye colors. Was my birth and eye color announced? Or was it hidden from Teleste until the King and Queen could decide what to do?" I already knew the answer, but I decide to test Mirabelle to see if she actually knows. I hope she does because she has been my tutor for a little more than ten years now, it would be odd if she didn't know simple questions about me. She closed her eyes, thinking about it.

"They waited," she said. She opened her eyes and stared at me. I nodded and she went on, "They waited because they didn't want all of Teleste to go into shock. When it was announced, I think two weeks later, the news spread to everyone in every province. Every single person knows who you are, Anaithnid. It is quite incredible, really."

I never thought about my eye color that way; incredible. Maybe it is. If it is so incredible, though, then why don't I fit in anywhere? And I still don't know why they waited to share the news, I mean, the Kingdom was going to find out sometime.

"So, for the first five years of a child's life, they live without a name. What do their parents call them for these five years?"

"They call them by the province name that they live in or by their mother's name." I answered this question slowly, taking my time to think over it. I was called Sparrow, but it was very unfitting to me. I am so unlike my mother and have been ever since I was young. She always seems distant and unapproachable. I have much more in common with my father, he is quiet and thoughtful, just like me, but we also love to have fun and laugh at little silly things.

"Once they reach five, however, there is the Naming Ceremony. It is held on the day of the child's birthday. What is the name of the group that decides on the name for the child? And who actually does the naming?" She says this expressively, so that I understand which words are the most important. Then, she tilts her head to one side, letting her long hair hang in front of her face, and moves her hands over her beige dress slowly; waiting for me to give her an answer.

I take my time and think about all that she said. I already know most of what she just told me, but I want remember it how she said it. Meaningful and worthy of time and thought. A child's fifth birthday is the second most important birthday they will have; the first most important is when they turn sixteen and grow into the powers that have been hovering just out of reach. On a fifth birthday, they receive a name, and a name will stay with you for the rest of your life, there is no way to change it. I finally answer her question and she looks up at me. "The Council of Chiefs choose a name for the child and the Chief who is appointed over the child's future province will name the child at the ceremony. This ceremony is very sacred because when the Chief gives a name to a child, he or she seals it to them with magic. Magic is extremely rare in our Kingdom and is only given by the King or Queen to a new Chief. The new chief is then a member of the Council from then on until they die. The name they seal to the child with the magic is the name the child will have for the rest of their life. It will determine what specific shift they will have. Mirabelle, does this mean that no two people in the entire Kingdom have the same name?"

"Well, not exactly. Sometimes, when there are more people than shifts in that group, the Chief will give the child a first name and a second name. Usually, the first one is the one by which they are called and the second one is the one that determines the shift they will have. I have two names, did you know that?" She smiles and I shake my head. I have not even heard about people with two names. They must be very rare. She continues, "Well, my full name is Mirabelle Aegean. Aegean is what type of cat I am. I actually know one other person with a second name that is the same as mine. That person and I are the same type of cat, but we look very different and have different first names. Most of the time, though, a person has only one name. After they have the Naming Ceremony, they are then called by their given name and start going to lessons. Where do they go to have these lessons?"

"Well," I began. Distractedly, I rubbed my feet in the grass, letting my long faint-blue dress swing around. "There are five school houses, one for each province or group. Each child goes to the school of the province they belong in. There, they learn all about their province and shift, along with the basic studies. Since there are so many children between the ages of five and eighteen in each province, schools are divided into three groups: Beginners-age five to ten, Apprentices-age ten to fifteen, and Shifters-ages sixteen through eighteen."

"Sixteen is a special age." She smiles excitedly, and then looks up at the blossom filled tree branches. After a pause she looks back at me and continues. "So, on the day of a person's sixteenth birthday, they will experience high emotions, have strange bursts of energy, and may, umm... stare off into space a few times. These are all signs that their powers are starting to emerge from within. Sometime after those three symptoms, they will be morphed into their creature without consciously knowing it. This is the end of the transformation from a normal human to a Shifter. From then on after, they will be able to use their powers that they have and be able to shift into their creature by a simple thought or motion." She then stopped speaking and everything was silent. Thousands of thoughts crossed my mind, but only one had the courage to form words, perhaps the boldest of them all.

"Mirabelle," I said in a hushed voice, "what do you think I will become on my sixteenth birthday?" I will have my birthday in about four weeks, in April. When it was quiet for a few minutes, I was about to repeat myself to make sure I was heard when she responded.

"I don't…" She started but then corrected herself, "I'm not sure, Anaithnid. You could be anything! But for now, it is unknown."

Author's Note:

Thank you all for reading Chapter One of Unknown Eyes! Please give feedback and leave a review! I need all of the help I can possibly get if I want to become a better writer!

I was super excited to write this chapter, but it took a bit of time! If it is a little bit confusing right now, it will even out once I get a few chapters into it. I hope you enjoyed reading this and are hungry for more! If you have any questions for me, you can leave a review or comment. For more info about me, check out my profile! Keep Reading!

Lots of Love,

Violet

3: Chapter 2: A Long Day

Chapter 2:

A Long Day

For the remainder of our review discussion, I couldn't focus on anything. Barely hearing the words, but answering the questions all the same. Most of the answers were etched into me. I was too worried about the future, that I let my thoughts wander. I said goodbye to Mirabelle when we had finished and stood up to leave, but she stopped me. "Hey, Ann, don't worry about it, okay?" She knows me too well.

"Alright. I won't stress over it. It's okay." I said, nodding my head. It was a total lie. How could I not be worried about my sixteenth birthday? What if I don't have a shift? How would that be possible? I thought and then quickly reassured myself. There's no way. Everyone has a shift and at least one of the powers that go with it. But I'm… different.

"I'll see you in three days. Goodbye, Ann." Mirabelle stated and smiled a pearly-white smile. I had almost forgotten tomorrow was the two day break for the month. It is a time for all of the teachers to meet together to discuss the progress of their students and what could be improved with the Council. I don't know why Mirabelle has to go to them since I am her only student.

"Bye! Thanks for the discussion. It got me thinking." I waved as she shifted quickly into her cat form. I watched as she nimbly jumped from the bench and into the forest, running off towards the Castle.

I turned and went the other way, back toward where I had come from. Right as I hit the tree line, I changed my mind and decided to walk through the forest instead of traveling by the busy roads. It was really peaceful here and maybe I could have some time to myself.

I set off at a sprint, weaving in and out of the tall trees like a snake, and smiled. I ran even faster and leapt into the air, twirling elegantly and grinned when I landed it with ease. I danced gracefully, my skirts whisking the tall grass, all while heading in one direction. Laughing lightly when my feet splashed in a rain puddle; I loved it. Finally, I was able to be myself without being judged.

How am I so happy with all of my problems?

And then reality came back to me. I have problems. A lot of them. And there is no way to get rid of them quickly. I stopped smiling, stopped dancing, and stopped having fun. Frowning, I stood perfectly still. A sob escaped from my mouth before I could hold it back and plenty more came out with it. I can never truly enjoy myself with these problems weighing so heavily on my shoulders. But I don't want to cry, either. I want to be brave. I need to be brave. That is probably the only way I can live with all of them.

The tears stopped as quickly as they had come until all that was left were my puffy eyes and a catch in my breath. Crying is pointless and stupid, my mother would say, it only makes others feel guilty, and yourself even worse than how you felt before. Eventually all traces that I had broken down were gone and I was left in the growing darkness. How long have I been in here? I quickened my pace and headed straight for home, knowing the tree grove like the back of my hand.

In about twenty minutes, I made it to the wide, dirt road leading to Bird. Strangely, it was almost empty. Not a good sign. There are usually always stragglers like me out in the dark. Hopefully I wasn't late for dinner. I was so hungry; not having any time for lunch today. Almost as if it had heard my thoughts, my stomach grumbled loudly, making me walk even faster.

There was my house. It is quite large for a family of three, but I guess it was expected knowing my mother. Being large does not mean that it the nicest, though. I walked slowly up the dusty, stone steps and knocked lightly on our old, pinewood door before opening it up to walk in.

"Dad? Are you here?" I hoped so badly that he was home from the lab. Sometimes his job kept him away from his normal life. I wish I could see him more, he always makes me smile. Right now, I need someone to talk to and ask questions.

"Hey Ann! Glad you're finally home!" I closed the door behind me and followed the sound of his voice as I walked into the living room to see my father sitting in his large, brown chair next to the fireplace. A fire was glowing, making the room smell of firewood and smoke; a smell I've grown to love over the years.

"Sorry I was late, Dad. Have I missed dinner?" I gave him a quick hug then stepped back to hear what he had to say. My father is a tall man with short, black hair and observant, dark brown eyes that always look like they hold a secret. He has always been shy, but if you get to know him, you'll learn that he has a great sense of humor.

"Don't worry, we left you some. You just need to warm it up in the oven." He replied with a small smile that made his eyes twinkle familiarly. "Did the lesson go later than usual today, is that why you're late? How was it?"

"No, it ended at about the same time as usual." I told him as I walked into the kitchen for my food. The two rooms are right next to each other in our house, with no wall in between them, so I can still easily talk to him. I found mashed potatoes and carrots on a plate sitting on the counter by the oven. Yum! I carefully put it into the oven to let it heat up. "I just decided to go through the tree grove today. It took a little bit longer than I had hoped for but its alright. Our lesson today was mostly review but it was wonderful. It got me thinking about my birthday that's coming up."

"That's great! I was going to talk to you about it a later but now seems like a good time." I took my now-warm dinner out of the oven and pulled out one of the three chairs to sit at our beat-up, wood table. He came over to join me as I began to eat. "Are you excited? Nervous? Worried? How do you feel?"

I swallowed my spoonful of potatoes before I answered his question. "Well…" I began. How do I put this all into words? The thoughts I've been thinking all day rushed out my mouth."I'm scared that there might not be anything for me. That I won't have a shift. If I don't, what will they do with me? Throw me in the Foraoise with the wolves? No one has ever not had a shift, so I don't know what the Council would decide to do about it. I want a shift really bad, Dad. I just wish my birthday would come sooner!"

"Yeah. I get it. I couldn't wait for my sixteenth birthday to come either. On that day, so many incredible things happened that I can't even begin to put into words because it was all strange and remarkable. But I understand how you might be scared, having two eye colors, and no idea of what is coming." I nodded. I'm so desperate for the knowledge of my future. But at the same time, I don't want to know. I'm afraid I might not like it. I smiled then. Finally someone who understood me! Well, partially. Then he continued, "I know you have a shift. I can just feel it. There has to be something, I just don't know what."

"I hope so. If I get a shift, it'll probably be a Bird because you and Mom both have brown eyes." I said easily as I shoveled a few cooked carrots into my mouth. Both my parents are Birds, so how did I end up with a green eye? "Where is Mom, anyway?"

"She's asleep. She wanted to get extra rest for the long day tomorrow at the Castle." He replied, lowering his voice. Mother is a teacher of the Beginners at age eight. A lot of progress goes on then, so she probably wants more sleep to be able to remember it all, even if she has her notes. Or she's using that as her excuse for being lazy.

"Oh, alright. Tell her good luck on her progress report." I whispered without much enthusiasm. With that, I stood and took my empty plate to the sink, washed it off, and put it away in the cupboard. I said goodnight to Dad and gave him a tight hug, then quietly walked down the dark hallway branching off of the living room.

I could barely make out the door at the end of the hallway; it was so dark that my eyes couldn't penetrate the thick sea of blackness. It was almost suffocating; frightening. And my footsteps echoed slightly against the ground and walls.

I reached the end of the hallway and felt around for the doorknob. When my fingers finally touched the smooth, cool metal of it, I twisted it and opened the door. I slipped inside my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Quickly, I changed into my nightgown before flopping down onto my cozy bed, all in the darkness. It must have been near midnight because I was exhausted after the long day. Even though the blackness is eerie and makes me shiver, it is also peaceful. I fell asleep almost immediately, with no dreams.

Author's Note:

Thank you all for reading and supporting me! It's appreciated! Please check out my profile for more stories and info! Review, Favorite, Follow!

I really hope you liked this chapter. I know it's still in the beginning, but awesome things are going to happen! Please read more! And, if you can, give me some feedback in a review or you can PM me. Some constructive criticism would be nice! :)

Anyone curious as to what Ann's relationship is with her mother? Or are you thinking more about what will happen on her birthday?

Thanks again!

Lots of Love,

Violet

4: Chapter 3: Breakfast Mess

Chapter 3

Breakfast Mess

 

I wake up to the familiar sounds of birds singing. It always has to be right when the sun came up, though, doesn’t it? I groan as I get out of bed and shiver when I am no longer in the protection and warmth of my blankets. Obviously I won’t even make it two feet without freezing to death, so I turn around and grab a small, soft green blanket off of the bottom of my bed and wrap it around me. Hurriedly, I fix my now-four blankets so they at least look reasonable on my bed, just in case my mother would check to see if my room was clean. Then I remember that she is at the Castle and won’t be back for two or three days. I groan again and trudge out of my room and into the hallway. When I reach my parents’ room, I lightly tap on the door with one hand, my other holding tightly on the blanket.

I hope Dad hasn’t left for the lab yet. What’ll I have for breakfast if he isn’t here?

I crack open the door and peek my head in. My eyes scan their large, master bedroom for any sign of life. They skip over the pile of my Mom’s fancy dresses, left out when she was looking for something presentable to wear in front of the Council, the long, white couch set in front of a fireplace, and onto the huge bed, also white. The covers were tossed into a large heap at the bottom of the bed, definitely a sign that Dad was in it, but the bed itself is empty. I frown. That’s so disappointing.

Now I’ve got to make breakfast alone. With no help. Yikes.

I back out of their doorway and head down the rest of the hallway quickly, not letting the cold, wooden floor boards get a hold of my exposed feet. My stomach grumbles softly, and I think of how strange it is that I am always hungry in the morning, even after a late dinner. Passing through the living room, I step into the kitchen.

There is no going back now. The nightmare has begun.

I whine as I try to possibly think of something to eat and sigh when the only thing I come up with is pancakes. Well, they are the only thing I know how to make for breakfast, so they’re kind of my only choice. I walk into our quite large pantry and pull out a bag of flour. After setting it on the kitchen counter, I open up the refrigerator and take out the milk and the eggs. I hope that is all I need, because the recipe is kind of foggy in my brain. Then, I get out a small bowl, a whisk, and a frying pan.

Now for the hard part. I tear open the new bag of flour and try to pour some into the bowl. It all comes out. Not a good start, Ann. The flour had spilled all over the counter and onto the ground. I moan as I scoop it up with my hands to put back in the bag. My parents would be very mad at me if I had wasted some expensive flour.

When I finally get that cleaned up, I take one egg out and crack it on the counter and then let it fall into the bowl. Some pieces of the shell get into the batter and I have to fish them out with my hands. So, after I wash my gooey egg hands off, I pour in some milk, which thankfully had no problems. I hope I put in enough of everything, or not too much. I pick up the whisk and spin the batter around until you can barely see the flour clumps in it. I turn on one of the stove’s burners and set the frying pan on top of the burner, and take the bowl to pour some batter into it. I have just enough to make three pancakes, perfect.

While I wait for the first pancake to cook, I think about how I had learned to make pancakes, and how horrible I was at it then, too. My dad had taught me when I was around eight years old, just in case no one was home and I was hungry. I had made a huge mess and we had to clean it all up, laughing when we saw each other’s faces covered in flour. I smile as I remember it, and realize that I haven’t progressed in cooking abilities at all.

The hardest step of the pancake-making process, for me, is flipping the pancakes. I take a hold of the pan handle and carefully lift it up. Swinging it not-so-skillfully into the air, the pancake flies out in a somersault and I catch it. Well, kind of. The back half of the pancake hangs over the edge of the pan and I have to pull it back in.

…

I sit down at my seat at the kitchen table. My plate ended up having only two pancakes on it, so I hope they at least taste good. I pick up my fork and begin to eat my hard earned breakfast. On my third bite, something crunches in my mouth. I really hope that wasn’t an eggshell.

I glance back into the kitchen to fully see what damage it took. There is a cracked egg on the counter. Floury snow covers a corner of the floor, the bag itself tipped on its side. The milk is still out. And the stove. I believe that the stove may have died. I had apparently spilled a lot of batter all over it and the one unsuccessful pancake lay in the middle of it, with the batter-drenched frying pan off to the side. Well, at least the stove got turned off.

I quickly finish eating my breakfast and stand up to push in my chair, leaving the green blanket sitting in my spot. Here comes clean-up duty. I wash off my plate in the sink before putting it where it belongs in the cupboard. I turn to get a broom and go to face the flour. I brush most of it into a large pile and wish that some of it is salvageable, but it obviously isn’t. There’s dust and hair mixed in with the pile; I gag at the thought of having to eat something with that in it, so I dump it all down the sink. I wash the rest of it off of the floor before cleaning up the cracked egg, which I suppose is the easiest part of the whole mess. I turn back towards the stove and grab the pan by the least batter-covered part, grimacing, and take it to the sink to wash off.

When it’s finally spotless, I put it back into the cabinet where I found it. I walk to the sink to get my washcloth and then come back to the stove, thinking I can save it. In about ten minutes, I have it scrubbed clean. The only part left of the breakfast clean up is putting things away. I pick up the milk and put it back into the fridge. Then I spin around and heft up the sideways bag of flour to put it back into the pantry.

I smile tiredly when I’m done and the kitchen is back to its shiny self. I clean off my hands and face in the sink before strutting out of the kitchen, grabbing my blanket along the way, through the living room, and head back to my room with a full stomach.

…

I take a quick, warm shower and then am faced with what to wear today. It’s between a knee-length, light blue dress, a long pale red dress with a bow in the back, or a more relaxed yellow dress. I put the red one back in my closet, deciding it is a little too formal for a day with my friends. After a few moments of consideration, I choose the yellow dress. I would be far too cold in the short, blue one, this early in the spring. I slip on the dress and go to stand in front of my full length mirror in my bathroom.

It is a dandelion yellow color with sleeves that reach down to my elbows. The skirt part goes all the way to my ankles, hanging limply, and is adorned witha  pretty, white lace border at the bottom. It is pretty, yet fun, too. The dress also helps because it compliments my brown eye beautifully. I go over to the cabinet underneath the sink and take out a brush. I run it through my knotted hair a few times as I move back to the mirror. Carefully, as I have each day, I brush my bangs over my green eye. It still lets me look pretty, but hides my difference. Most people who look at me only see my brown eye. If you didn’t look close enough, you’d even think I looked like my parents. And if you looked from far away, you might even think I was normal.

…

I lock the door behind me with our house key. After I glance around to make sure no one is watching, I hide the key underneath a rock, which is under a rose bush. I walk quickly down the path from our house to the main, dirt road. It’s the one I had traveled on last night, but this time I’m not going to cut through the tree grove.

People bustle this way, and that way. Some have wooden carts or bags full of things, others, like me, have nothing other than a place to get to. This road leads all the way to the Castle and other provinces have a main road like this as well. I walk for a few minutes, passing so many houses and buildings I can hardly tell the difference between them. I know the way, though, because this is where I’ve grown up.

When I come to a small road branching off the one I am on, I turn onto it. It is a lot thinner, and passes through a lot more trees. There are also a lot fewer people. The path weaves around trees and eventually more rocks are scattered on it, too. After a few more minutes of walking, the road becomes entirely made of stone and the trees thin out ‘till there are almost none around me.

I emerge out into the large grassy area, bordered with houses and stores, that I had talked to Ming at yesterday. Smaller stone paths run over the whole area and a few people are standing around casually talking to each other. From a few seconds of searching, I find my two friends standing under a white blossomed tree.

I quickly walk over to them, beaming. Ming’s slouched against the trunk of the tree and is wearing a short, dark green dress with a thin gold belt.

“You must be freezing.” I tell her with a playful smile.

She nods, rubbing her arms, trying to create friction. “Yes, but I look so good in this dress!”

I laugh. She really does look good in it. The green contrasts beautifully with her curly brown hair and tan skin. It’s just too bad that it is knee-length, giving her no protection from the swift winds.

Trout pushes himself off of the other side of the tree, brushing his black hair out of his eyes. “Hi, Ann. Where’ve you been?” he asks mischievously, blue eyes twinkling.

“Well, lets just say that no one was home to make me some breakfast, okay?”

“That’s why you’re late?” Ming exclaims with a laugh, and Trout cracks up to the point that he is on his knees. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks as I blush.

I’ve been late to come meet them a couple of times when both of my parents were out of the house or not able to cook. By now, they know that I’m a terrible cook and still think it is hilarious.

“It’s not that funny!” I protest, even with a smile on my lips.

“Yes. Yes, it is really funny.” Trout counters. “Tell us what exactly happened.”

He sits down in the shade of the tree, positioning his legs in a crisscross applesauce style. Ming leans back on trunk of the tree, and they both look up expectantly at me in silence.

“Fine.” I give up. I sigh and begin to tell them the entire story about my breakfast failure.

 

Author’s Note:

Yay! I’m finally getting into the swing of writing this… even though I haven’t updated forever! I hope you liked the bits of humor in this chapter, especially her huge breakfast mess. :)

So what do you think her friends and she will do for the rest of the day?

Oh, and just for anyone who needs it, Anaithnid is pronounced Ann-a(long a)th-ni(short i)d. That might not help, but there you go.

Lots of Love,

Violet