mewgirl99 — Roleplayer Guild

Chapter One3-9

The three youngest children were in and out of foster homes for well over two years before Matthew, at the age of twenty, finally took custody of them. Although it wasn’t the best course of action because of the financial dilemma it would put them in, he couldn’t bear to watch his little siblings go off to other homes in separate ways, likely to never see each other again. However, psychological consequences were suffered. Penelope refused to speak more than a single word at a time, and even then, she was so quiet that it was scarce to hear her voice. Jenna’s attendance and grades at school became worse and worse before Matthew opted to pull her out of public school. He juggled caring for them, working a job that paid just enough to keep the lights on and food on the table, and trying to attend a community college himself.

It was during the afternoon when Vera was woken from a restless nap on the living room floor, in a room that was humid and hot thanks to the summer season and no air conditioning. There was a knocking at the door that she had heard just vaguely before waking, and she lay still for a moment to confirm if the knock was real. Again, and harsher, there it was.

“Police,” came a gruff voice. “Can you open the door?”

Scrambling to her knees and crawling over to Matthew, who was snoozing on the couch, she shook him violently until he opened his eyes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s at the door.”

Vera chewed on her fingernails as Matthew rose to open the front door. Her nerves made her stomach bubble with anxiety. She sat perched upon the edge of the couch, watching as her other brother, Dillon, was pushed into the house with his hands bound behind his back. Behind him was a burly police officer in a stiff, blue uniform.

“Firstly, officer, I am so sorry,” Matthew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever he did, I’m sure-”

“Save it,” the man barked. “I know your issues, and I know that it’s high time you all straightened up,” he spoke as he let Dillon loose from the restraints. “I’m not saying that the deaths of your parents are anything you shouldn’t still be grieving over, but Matthew, you need to take better control of your brother. Next time, he’s going behind bars.”

Matthew shot a venomous glare at Dillon, who sheepishly stared down at his sneakers. The older brother slapped his hand against the younger’s back, shoving him onto the couch beside Vera.

“Consider it,” said the officer. “Dillon, consider getting over yourself. Next time you act up, I have the authority and information to separate all of you.”

The three siblings’ faces each expressed shock and dejection. Matthew raised his hands slightly in a defensive manner. “Sir, it will all be taken care of,” he said before peering up at the officer. “What did he do?”

The man’s face fell into a dumbfounded expression, and he sputtered for a moment before choking out, “Why, he stole from Old Buddy’s Convenience Store!”

Matthew’s eyebrows knit together in an incredulous, confused manner. “With all due respect sir, your threats are a bit over the top for him to have only shoplifted.”

At this remark, the officer’s face turned red with frustration and anger. “Look,” he said, voice slightly raised, “He’s been causing trouble around town and he caused trouble in school before he quit. He stole! That’s a crime!”

A quiet moment was shared between the four of them as Matthew turned this thought over in his head. Vera watched with wide eyes, absorbing the scene and information as she tried to pick a side. Never was she fond of Dillon, but she could concur with Matthew that the officer was being a bit irrational.

Then again, she thought to herself, Dillon is a bit of a nuisance.

Quietly, she excused herself from the scene. Matthew watched her step quickly into her and Penelope’s bedroom, then shut the door. He looked back up at the officer and said in a meek tone, “Okay. I understand.”

The officer nodded. His hands were on his hips, and he was at an obvious loss for words. Clearly, he did not expect the boy to end this peacefully. Regardless, there was nothing else he could say to them. He dipped his head in a departing nod, then turned and wordlessly walked out of the door.

At the exact second the police cruiser drove away, Matthew turned on his brother like a rabid dog. The teenager had lazily sprawled himself out upon the couch with his arm thrown over his eyes. His whole demeanor screamed the word, “Bum” to Matthew. It infuriated him. It made him so angry, that he grabbed Dillon by the shirt and yanked him off of the couch, causing him to fall heavily upon the floor.

“What the hell?!” Dillon yelled, pushed himself up to a sitting position, and looked up at Matthew.

“What is wrong with you?!” Matthew yelled back. “Why do you keep doing this?! Do you want us to be split apart?”

“Maybe it would be for the best,” Dillon muttered under his breath, glaring at the floor as if it were the reason he’d fallen. As if it were the cause of all of his life’s problems. Matthew suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“No, it wouldn’t! Penelope and Vera would be taken into a home, or homes that would...I don’t know, have somebody molesting them or something! And you...you’d just end up going to jail if I wasn’t here to defend your sorry butt.”

Suddenly stricken with intense anger, Dillon quickly rose to his feet and pushed his chest out threateningly toward his brother. His fists were clenched and jaw drawn tight. While his anger was present, he kept his voice calm. Low.

“Fine then, don’t defend me. Let me make it easier for you. I’ll leave.”

It was Matthew’s turn to be without words to say. He stared at his brother with a stern, angered look in his eyes. Both were too stubborn to admit defeat. Dillon reached into his jeans pocket, and Matthew flinched, almost certain that his brother was about to pull a gun on him. Instead, three plastic-wrapped cinnamon bun snacks were thrown at his feet.

“If-If you think…” Dillon choked, “If you think stealing when we have almost nothing is such a crime, then...don’t eat one! Let the girls split the third one!”

He waited, fists hanging motionless again at his sides. There was a look in his eyes, Matthew saw, that begged for a response. A positive one. One that would lure him back in, sit him down, and talk about this. Alas, he offered none, and Dillon turned and ran out the door before he had to endure anymore tense silence.

As he picked up the snacks, Matthew had to swallow the lump in his throat that had caused him not to call his brother back. He turned one over in his hands, inspecting it closely. It was fully wrapped and sealed, bearing the label “Angie’s Baking.” He blew a short breath out of his mouth.

He’s being over dramatic.

Regardless, it took two slow and deep breaths, and the rubbing of his eyes before Matthew could bring himself to take the cinnamon buns into the sisters’ bedroom. It wasn’t that he was particularly angry. He was just frustrated.

Vera was sitting beside Penelope when Matthew walked in. She was watching her little sister color a page from a coloring book, one that had been given to her by her teacher out of pity, no doubt. The way that the teachers at the school treated them sometimes sickened Vera. She didn’t want to be pitied; she didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. It had been a while since she’d been in public school, but she remembered the stares that she received when everyone knew everything.

When her brother walked in, she looked up from the coloring page and gave him a knowing look. The walls were paper thin. He smiled at her, lips pressed tight together in a surreptitious manner. He approached the girls and knelt down in front of them then looked intently at the coloring page that Penelope was coloring. Penelope looked up, as if she were shocked.

“What’cha got?” she asked, noting the treats in his hands. Her speech had improved tremendously over the past six months. However, the family was sure that she still had a long way to go.

“Snacks,” Matthew said softly, distributing them to the girls.

Immediately, the sisters tore into the wrappers and began devouring the cinnamon buns. Matthew held the third one in his hand, reluctant to eat it, out of spite for his brother. He was against it, so why would he eat it? It was stolen. He gave it a moment of consideration and then smashed it into his pocket.

Vera watched him quietly as she chewed the last remains of the snack she’d been given. They were her favorite treat, and she didn’t get them often, so she truthfully didn’t mind much how they were acquired. She looked over at Penelope, who was also finishing the last bit of hers, which was rather uncharacteristic. The small girl was normally a very slow eater.

“From?” Penelope asked in an almost incoherent manner, as to ask where Matthew had gotten them from. He smiled at her lovingly.

“Dillon- uh, bought them,” he lied. He certainly couldn’t take the credit, but he couldn’t openly acknowledge that his brother had stolen something for the girls. He didn’t want to encourage it.

Nodding at him, Penelope grinned, “Thanks.”

“I’ll tell him,” said he, knowing what she meant. He reached over and pulled her into a tight hug, and then only patted Vera on the shoulder because he knew she shied from physical contact.

“He’ll be back,” Vera said, looking up at him.

Matthew only nodded. He dwelled on these words as he returned to the living room to attempt to study for his upcoming exam. It was difficult to believe them. Dillon had run away many times before, but who was to say that this wasn’t the last time? The feeling of regret and guilt was too tough to shake. Matthew could have stopped him; he knew that his brother had been practically begging to stay without saying a word. Begging for a reason to stay. Matthew could have given him a reason. But he didn’t.

As if on a cue to worsen the terrible feelings within him, rain began to fall. Soon after the pattering of raindrops atop the tin roof were heard, a gentle roll of thunder spread across the sky. Matthew lay out on the couch after setting his textbook aside, and found himself waking up to see Vera lying on her back on the floor in front of him, staring blankly at the ceiling. She turned to him as he stirred awake.

“Where’s Penelope?” he muttered sleepily, sitting up and stretching before rubbing his eyes. He yawned and groaned loudly as he did so.

“I dunno,” Vera replied bluntly. “She went to play in the woods.”

“Oh,” said Matthew. He yawned again and asked, “Will you go find her? I’m about to make supper.”

“Can I help?” she asked, blatantly ignoring his question as she rose to her feet.

“If you find Penelope and get your hands washed.”

Vera sighed, but nonetheless obeyed her brother. She passed by him as he stood at the kitchen sink and exited through the back door. The bottom step was warped and weak, threatening to break even under her small weight. She spent no longer than second on it before she stepped off onto the grass. Before her stood tall weeds and endless trees that she was used to exploring with her sister. Lately, she’d outgrown it. It just wasn’t something she wanted to do anymore.

“Penelope,” she called. “Are you out here?”

The only response she received was the hissing of the grass and the leaves as the wind rustled them against each other. There were still clouds overhead from the brief thunderstorm they’d had. Again, she sighed, having not wanted to go out into the brush, though it looked like that was her only current option. Barefoot and donning nothing but shorts and a tank top, she made her way out into the trees in search of her little sister.

As she trekked through the woods, she called Penelope’s name consistently with no response. The more time that passed, the more worried she became. It seemed like she’d been searching for hours when she finally came upon her sister sitting against a fallen oak tree.

“There you are,” Vera clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? You’re-”

Whatever she was about to say was lost as she stared at the creature that was sitting upon her little sister’s lap, seeming very content. Penelope looked up at her. Then so did the animal. They both grinned in an almost otherworldly manner. Vera resisted the overwhelming urge to step back, turn, and run back home. It was something she’d never seen before in her life. It resembled an eagle, that much she was sure about. However, the most curious part about it was that it was covered in fur and was sporting a tail of a lion. Vera would have guessed that it was no bigger than a gallon jug. It had long, sharp talons. Thick, brownish-yellow fur. White, feathery wings.

“What...is...that?” Vera inhaled her words, staring at the creature that stared back.

“Perry,” Penelope said simply.

Vera was confused. “Perry?” she shook her head, taking a step forward. In that moment, the animal leaped into the air and squawked like an insane bird and vanished in a puff of blue mist. The mist fell upon both Vera and Penelope’s faces, and within seconds, both girls had collapsed upon the ground, unconscious.

Chapter One End

Prologue1-2

Vera Woods was only thirteen years old when her mother, Becca, shot and killed her father in the middle of the night. The young, blonde girl was stirred from her fitful sleep by the sounds of her parents arguing. She’d lain in her bed across the room from her little sister’s for quite a while before she heard the sound of a gun being fired once. Motionless, she barely dared to breathe. She looked in the direction of Penelope, her sister, and saw two blue eyes staring back at her through the thin film of darkness. Both sisters jumped. A second gunshot had broken through the eerie silence.

At the end of the room, Matthew, the oldest son had long since woken and was now descending the top bunk of the bed that he shared with his little brother. As he passed the girls’ beds, he stopped when he saw that they were not asleep either.

“You two stay in here. Vera, don’t let Penny come out,” he whispered.

Vera nodded, sliding out of bed and crawling quietly across the floor over to Penelope’s bed. The seven year old girl was trembling with fear, and so Vera wrapped her arms tightly around her. Matthew opened the door softly, then disappeared into the living room. The sisters waited for their brother’s return. It was quiet in the house. The kind of quiet that makes a person’s stomach twist with knots of fear. The sisters, holding each other, flinched when Matthew came back into the bedroom.

He seemed to ignore Penelope and Vera both, instead walking straight to the bed that he came from. He shook his younger brother, Dillon, until he woke up. Dillon was only a year older than Vera, but seemed much more mature for his age. He woke with a grumble, and Vera wondered how he’d slept through such a violent cacophony of noise.

“What’s wrong?” asked he, looking up at Matthew.

Matthew bent down and spoke in a hushed voice to his brother while Vera tried to listen to what he was saying. She caught words like, “dead,” “neighbors,” and “phone.” What she was almost positive had happened was something that she wanted to escape her thoughts. As she held her sister tighter, her mind began thinking at a thousand words per second. Matthew passed by the bed again, exiting the room, and Vera looked in Dillon’s direction for answers. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands.

“Dillon?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

Dillon's eyes focused on Vera, staring at her and making her feel uneasy. It was as if he were in a trance, which only further confirmed Vera's fear and suspicion. Her heart was beating slow and hard. It drummed against her chest at a strangely steady pace. Her eyes cast downward, they began to fill with tears. She didn't know why she was crying. If her father was dead, that meant she no longer had to endure the abuse that he had been inflicting upon his wife and children for years. However, if her mother was dead, Vera knew that it would mean the only adult whose main concern was to nurture the Woods children despite the odds was gone. That was the reason she was teary-eyed with a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach. Her mother, who had done her best to be a mother, was likely dead.

"Is mom...okay?" she finally asked, vision trained on her brother through the dark. She couldn't bear to ask the question she wanted to ask. She couldn’t bear to say the word.

"No," he replied almost immediately, in a blunt and almost harsh tone. He repeated, "No."

Penelope began to whimper beside Vera, who stroked her sister’s arm in a feeble attempt at comforting her. The next two years would be the hardest.

End Prologue

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