Gen Four- Chapter Four

Dad worked on something during lunch. I couldn't find grandpa, so I downed the granola bar from my packed lunch and called my meal over. My whole body burned with a rage that tickled sweat on the back of my neck. Every vein pulsed with indignance while my stomach protested the thought of anything more than those quick bites inside it. Thus, my lunch break turned into me furiously bolting around the track again and again until my lungs could hardly keep up. Even then I kept going. With each step I imagined Ms. Cranberry's face underneath my foot. The harsh impact of my heel into her stupid mouth spouting lies worked wonders in keeping me from exploding.

The only truth she'd given me was that I had been a bit stupid. Stupid to expect anything of value from her. I wonder if I would have caught her off guard revealing I knew about her and dad's little get-together.

Gen Four- Chapter Two

Neither of us knew how to react. I knew most people in the building and had formed the basic, pleasant general relationship one has with acquaintances on average at least twenty years older than you. Mr. Sterling though, well, he was essentially a ghost to me. A figure I saw only rarely and who only ever flashed a quick appearance in the corner of my eye before he impossibly darted off. Seriously, maybe he could walk through walls. I'd tried to follow him once or twice, and it was if he'd vanished from reality.

     "Good afternoon, Nutmeg," he greeted quietly and meekly.

I stopped his attempt at walking by by moving in his way. Needing to move down the hallway I blocked, he was trapped between getting to his destination and knowing walking in the opposite direction wouldn't help him.

     "Hey, Mr. Sterling, can I talk to you for a moment?" A bold request on my part, and one I knew he wouldn't accept.

     "Unfortunately, there's something I must take care of. If I could be on my way."

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead when I jumped to halt him once more.

Gen Four- Chapter One

One of the most difficult questions I've ever attempted to answer in my life is one many have pondered...what does it mean to be a good person? Or, likewise, what does it mean to be a bad person? I've known people I believed to be good who turned out to be absolute monsters. There are those who the world shuns as horrible when all I've ever known from them is kindness. Can a lifetime of repentance undo the worst of crimes? Can one terrible action dissolve every honorable act done until then?

I don't have an answer after all this time. Honestly, I don't think it's a question that can be answered. All one can do is take a look at the situation before them and judge to the best of their ability with their heart and mind. Such a conclusion was a long time in the making. It was during the late summer in my tenth year when I first had to ponder that above question, but it's probably best to go back a little before that. I'll start with a certain Friday. A day with a bright sun, lively early summer breeze, and moment after moment of subtle changes to my stagnant life.

Gen Three- Chapter Forty (FINAL)

For all the impossibly long months of pain and waiting for a pregnancy to complete, the moments after the children arrived defied time. In a way, it passed as it'd passed that night with Arbor. The minutes flowed onward even as they ceased to exist. I lay in a bubble of calm and quiet where my mind couldn't fathom what lurked on the horizon. My body rested deeply in the cushioned mattress overwhelmed by exhaustion, a bit of blood loss, and an extreme amount of comforting hormone surges that was its attempt to convince me that maybe I would want to do this again in the future. Little of the pain lingered, perhaps because of that or perhaps because of the epidural still kicking. I cringed at any small idea of moving or focusing on the sounds of Russet and Timber on the other side of the wall. Sterling kicked them out not long after the second girl had been successfully delivered. He told them they weren't needed while he helped me through the after stages of labor, which was majorly true. The real reason for having them leave, of course, was to provide him and I a chance to talk privately if needed.

     "You've got two happy babies here," Sterling, having ditched the stuffy delivery outfit as soon as he could, gushed while he held the younger of the two girls, "She's smiling already. Probably because she knows she has a great mama who held on through a lot to have her here."

     "Hell yes I have," I laughed quietly, "Oh, I only wish mom could have been here. She had this big plan for the birth of her first grandchildren. How we could talk now that I can see what it was like for her to give birth to Gilly and me..."

     "You'll have the opportunity, I'm sure." Sterling encouraged optimistically.

Gen Three- Chapter Thirty Nine

These plants were something else. It was one thing to be told by my older family members of the good crazy things organizations like The Company could create, but to see new marvels for myself proved an inspiration when little else bolstered my spirits. The grapes, lettuce, potatoes, and even the dang watermelons- it was now January and those adorable plants grew with all their hearts. The help of the special light, soil, and modification to their seeds allowed them to produce more of themselves again and again ignoring their normal life cycle. I could pick off one of those watermelons, enjoy it as a snack, and have another one within two weeks. Monitoring them was a highlight of my day, leaving the months to come and go more enjoyably.

Because more months had passed. It was indeed January. Gilly, Confetti, Arbor, and I should have moved into our new house, Gilly and Confetti should have been well settled in their jobs, and I should have finished my first semester at Zenith Peak's university with Ethereal, Ephemeral, Morning, Cream, Pumpkin, and all those guys. Uncle Prism had even promised me a scene as an extra in a movie that wouldn't get cut this time. But, no...everything like that had been stolen away. Christmas had come and gone with me being stuck, and the new year had started. I thought of Confetti and Arbor the most right now. Arbor had only chosen to move because of me, and Confetti had planned her life working on the assumption she'd be with my sister forever. I doubt she thought to continue the move. Even becoming a masseuse had been done in order to stay with Gilly. What did she envision for her life now with all that gone? I placed my hand on my stomach. If...when I got out of here, I wished to make her the godmother of the older twin while Apple would be the godmother for the younger one. Maybe it might help in some way.

Gen Three- Chapter Thirty Eight

Sensitive content this chapter

It'd been about, oh, five minutes since the sound of my heavier footfalls on the treadmill and deep, labored breathing overwhelmed the sound coming from the television mounted on the wall. There was a remote if I wanted to turn it up, but the stupid thing had fallen out of the cubby and onto the floor. No way I was going to pick it up. I barely paid attention to the television anyway. If I  stopped for a second my body would refuse to let me restart the workout. It'd been two months, and the routine I set for myself strengthened me faster than ever before. I woke up at eight, ran for twenty minutes, took a cool shower, ate breakfast, did my work with the plants in the corner, watched television for a bit, and then worked out until lunch. That was where I currently was in the schedule. Still, my body protested all the time for I simply didn't have that athletic bug like Gilly had. I shook my head as I thought of her- as the brief glimpse of that picture of her and Merlot's dead bodies burned itself into my memory. I wouldn't force it out as I used the anger of it as motivation, but at the moment it was the wrong kind of motivation.

     "Dia?"

I tried not to jump as a head peeked into the door. The sounds of my struggle had masked the entrance of someone coming downstairs. My visitors were limited to two people. Timber or his dad. Occasionally the both of them when Timber insisted I needed cheering up. We'd watch television or eat a meal together. I waited in that moment for Timber to poke his head inside my bedroom as well, but Russet was alone. I refused to call him Mr. Mountain now. He didn't deserve the honor.

     "I was able to get what you asked me for." he relayed, holding up a plastic bag with several boxes inside.

     "Thanks. Just let me do my cool down and change into something better. Grab one of the dining table chairs and set it in front of the mirror in the bathroom, yeah?"

     "Sure."