Chapter One ~ Draft One

It was a Sunday afternoon, and the temperature outside was an uncomfortable 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Not an uncommon thing in the season of Mid-July in Henderson. As soon as August rolled around, it was only said to become hotter. Something that Sandy, a mother of two, previously divorced, but re-married, liked to ignore as she watched the daily news that afternoon. Another thing she liked to ignore, besides the blazing heat, was her youngest daughter's constant slipping grades. 


Sandy had thought this to herself a couple hours ago, when she had been previously nibbling on a piece of toast, sipping her nicely hot cup of White Chocolate Mocha, and glancing over her daughter's last report card of the year. Four B's and one C plus.

“I don't remember getting grades like these, back when I was in Middle School,” Sandy mumbled to herself while slurping another sip of coffee. These grades were unacceptable, but Sandy knew not to come down harsh on Emma, for she would blame it Abigail, Sandy's oldest daughter. How Emma always found a way to blame everything on Abigail, still amazed Sandy.

Of course, Sandy knew that Emma felt she had to do everything perfect in order to live up to her older sister. Abigail was a straight A student since 2nd grade. While accomplishing that, she also managed to keep a social life, a nice paying job, and a steady relationship with her long time boyfriend, Jeff. Sandy couldn't help but admit she was proud of Abigail. Emma on the other hand, was a handful. Distant from the rest of the family.

It hadn't always been like this, of course. We had all been one happy family, but Adam had to go and ruin that, Sandy thought to herself. Adam was Sandy's ex-husband, and the father of Abigail and Emma, although he never acted the part. Not since Emma's sixth birthday, anyway.

The story she often liked to forget, haunted her dreams nightly. Sandy couldn't help but think that even though both girls seemed to have forgot what had happened, they were still hurting inside. That's what frightened her the most. The thought that two young girls were forced to heal their wounds on their own. And children of that age aren't supposed to go through things like that. It could possibly ruin their chances of having a normal childhood. Which was all that Sandy wanted for her two children. She wanted them to be happy.

Which was partly why Sandy was so extremely grateful that her ex-husband, Adam, had decided never to play a part in the girls lives since so many years ago. And even then, he never was a very good father... or husband, for that matter.

Exactly six years ago, at Emma's birthday party, Adam had announced his leave of the family. Adam had always been unexceptionally good looking, so Sandy had assumed the many rumors that flowed through the town were true. Adam had a way with words, and therefore a way with many women who were not looking for a real relationship, but rather a hook up.

One thing about Adam, was that his family was extremely wealthy. Own there own jet and runway, kind of wealthy. And even after the divorce, and when Sandy had decided not to let Adam have visitation rights, Adam did absolutely nothing to gain them back. Even with all his money to hire a lawyer, he didn't even try. Sandy came to the conclusion that Adam didn't want anything to do with his old family. Which was exactly true.

“Sandy, sweetheart, what are your plans for the day?” Christopher Summers, age forty-five, but didn't look a day of forty, was Sandy's current husband and the girls step-father. He swung his arms around Sandy's waist and rested his head lightly on her shoulder.

“Nothing interesting,” she shrugged. “I'll probably do some cleaning around the house while you and the girls are gone,” Sandy said casually.

“Sounds like you'll have a full packed day. This house is a mess,” Chris chuckled sarcastically.

“Oh really, well maybe you should stay home and clean and I'// go to work instead.” Sandy turned her head effortlessly and kissed Chris.

Between kisses, Chris said, “If we keep doing this, I won't want to go to work.”

“But on the contrary, you must.”

“And why is that?”

“Because, you make the big bucks.”

“Is that all I'm good for?” Chris responded, sweetly.

“That among other things.” Sandy replied, pushing Chris out the front door, coffee and paper in hand, only stopping to kiss him again before shutting the door.

Now, a couple of hours later in the day, Sandy had ditched her cup of coffee for an iced water, and was laying out by the pool. No way was she going to waste her day cleaning the house. And reasonably, the house wasn't that much of a mess. Maybe the bathrooms needed cleaning or the dishes needed done, but she'd make the girls do that when they came home from the therapist. Those were regular chores the girl's needed to do anyway. Especially Emma.

Maybe Sandy would make Emma do both the bathrooms and the dishes as punishment for her bad grades, and then tell Abigail she didn't have to do anything as a reward for her amazing grades. No, Sandy thought to herself. That would cause an argument from Emma. She'd say I was playing favorites.

What a pain, Emma was sometimes. Sure, it was one thing to argue with your siblings and parents on occasion, but it was an entire different thing to turn hostile on them. Sandy and Chris couldn't even reward Abigail for her magnificent behavior and amazing grades, for fear that if they didn't show Emma the same attitude as they showed Abigail, things would get ugly.  But all Emma had to do was act a tiny bit more like her sister. Not arguing with everything Sandy and Chris said. Not opposing the authoritative figure at school. Not flunking out of classes. Not trying to sneak out. Not getting bad grades. The list was an endless black hole.

“Mom! We're home!” Interrupting her thoughts, Sandy heard Abigail yell from the front door. She then heard some clanking and smacking, then thudding all the way up the stairs, and finally a slam of the door.

Pretending not to notice the entrance Emma made, Sandy replied, “I'm out back!”

Several minutes passed before Sandy heard flip flops step lightly on the patio and then a figure appear beside her. Dressed in her sailor blue and white bikini swimsuit, Abigail looked extremely annoyed. It wasn't normally that Abigail presented herself as annoyed, so Sandy new right away that something was wrong.

“What's wrong?” Sandy asked.

“Don't pretend you didn't hear that,” Abigail challenged. “She's a mess. That stupid, know-it-all Philologist, didn't do crap for her. It only pissed her off even more. Obviously, whatever she's going through is not something that someone else is going to fix for her.”

“You don't know that. For all we know, she could be suffering inside, and we're not trying hard enough to make her at peace,” Sandy said.

“At peace? You think she wants to be at peace?”

“Yes, I do,” Sandy replied, simply.

“That girl threw a baseball through my car window today! I have to pay for that now. Will she offer to pay for it? No, she won't. She doesn't care what I think of her! She hates me! Why she hates me? I have no idea, and I'm starting to not care.”

“Okay, Abigail, please calm down. Why did she throw a baseball through your car window?”

“Oh, that's the worst part, she was aiming at me! I ducked in time, and it went straight through the window of my car, instead,” Abigail complained.

“She tried to hit you with a baseball?”

“Yes.”

“But you ducked?”

“Yes.”

“So it, instead, went through the window of your car?”

“Yes.”

“Causing the window to shatter, I presume?”

“Yes.”

“And you reacted by...?”

“I screamed at her for several minutes, but she just stood there and glared at me. Not a word I said made an influence on her, whatsoever. So I made her walk the first three miles home, and then I picked her up and we drove the rest of the way," Abigail stated, like it was no big deal at all.

“You what?”

“I made her walk the last three miles home. It's not like it's that big of deal. It's not raining or thunder storming or anything like that. Just heat, and walking three miles in the heat, isn't going to kill her. Probably do her some good.”

“Okay well did you ask her why she tried to hit you with a baseball?”

“Of course I did. After we got back in the car, I asked her, and she said that 'life would be so much easier if you'd just go away.'” Abigail said, obviously aggravated.

“So she actually tried to harm you?” Sandy was still trying to understand the concept.

“YES mother! She actually tried to harm me! And I'm not going to put up with her doing things like this and not getting a punishment!” Abigail turned around and walked to the edge of the pool, then swan dived in. Resurfacing, she suggested, “You should go talk to her.”

Sandy nodded in agreement, stood up and then walked inside the house, only to hear the music blasting from Emma's room. At this same moment, Chris stepped into the house from the garage door, and frowned at Emma's obtrusive music.

“I'll handle it,” Sandy muttered as she passed Chris on her way up the stairs. This game that Emma liked to play was really starting to get old.  





Okay, here's Chapter One... I hope you enjoy it! Remember that I haven't done a single thing of editing yet... so of course there is going to be errors and things that just plainly don't make sense. Let's make the best of it... kay?!

-Alyssa <3