Winter Eyes

Chapter One: Drifting

A young amber-haired girl sat slouchingly on an olive green countertop, eating her breakfast of microwaved cheese sandwiches smushed to a flat pair of bread squares. Her brow furrowed with concern over a matter of mind but her face stood still, plain as stone with no hint of any fervent idea to crease her pink mouth or pale-white cheeks. Her forehead relaxed as though she was just easily shrugging off her worries in a melancholic manner, almost seeming fake. “Hon- would you watch for your bus while I go get ready for work?” Her mother inquired lovingly.

A rather unfeeling brief, “Sure” was thrown back. The tall woman with short-red boy-length hair bounced and funned with the word; saying ‘Sure-oo” and “Sure-ee”, generally agitating her long-haired daughter, who kept her mouth shut no matter how much she was tempted to blurt “shut up” to her. Soon her mother scurried off to get herself ready for a day’s work at the business office. The girl’s now darkened blue eyes flashed with a cold fire that would chill you to even look past them. A trouble strongly stirred in them and they seemed to want little less than death or even miserable life.

Of course most days were different than this but something was alurk today. Her mind was almost frozen and numb; dead. She simply wanted her stone eyes to hid the secrets that she couldn’t tell, the secrets that wouldn’t tell. Her heart wanted to scream and cry out in the worry she was feeling so deeply the girl put a smile on her face and got her thing ready for school as she refused to admit to herself the problems that sat, brewing impatiently. Ginger, the girl, pulled her backpack up by one strap and generally slipped her loose left arm though the second empty strap. Her amber mid back-length hair tumbled down her backpack as she untied the burgundy ribbon that held her hair in check.

She didn’t want to admit defeat and it showed in her flushed cheeks. Ginger was struggling to stay above concern and above a worried face. A smile sweetly creased her lips, ignoring the torment in her soul clashing with her mind’s will to fight. A war was raging inside her and tying to strangle her cheery mask to reveal the secrets within. Also in addition to the warring secrets, a deep deafening loneliness pierced her. It was like a long sleek silver sward thrust through her chest and all she new, her blood, was leaking out of the wound from which the blade hung.

Ginger had already stepped outside into the muggy spring morning, where outside the heavens had cried their last tear of the day to let the sun slowly begin to rise. As it did the amber-haired girl’s bus came out from the east, chugging towards her, the light breeze playing around her hair and flapping about her knee-length white skirt and long-sleeved school top. She embarked the bus leaving the wind and fresh smelling air behind to board a crowded yellow mode of transportation. There she sat down in the first seat to her right next to a first grader and mad a look of exasperation at her. Ginger always sat next to the bus-driver’s daughter, whose hair was thin and light blond with curls brushing lightly behind her ears. “Another day,” Ginger began, mumbling to the little girl, “I hate Mondays…” The middle-grader made a wacked-out face and managed to squeeze a stifled giggle from the blond. Being around innocence like this helped ease the tension and loneliness that Ginger’s heart ached with, but she still had her mind struggling for control.

She started to think during their conversations and became lost in her war. The secret was no longer bearable; she could almost feel the faint dripping of her blood and the pumping of her frightened heart, “Ginger?” an innocent little voice asked; concern filling the child’s orb-like eyes. Ginger jerked back to reality, outside her being again, instead of in the middle of an ongoing war inside herself.

“Yes?” She answered back, pretending she hadn’t spaced out like she did. The little blond gave her a look of confusion as the amber girl hopped off the bus with a brief farewell that seemed even more concise than usual. Ginger’s friend caught her glance to see the cold, lonely, longing flash that swelled though her eyes in such and aloof fashion it puzzled the blond to the extent of worry. Now the auburn twelve-year-old could only think with discontent that she had hurt her younger friend in some way with her hasty exit. Ginger furrowed her brow as she briskly walked to her homeroom on the second floor. The tile on the stairs was a glossy light blue with creamy off-white spiral and black covers on the tip of each stair.

*******

Her grief lasted until third period; a whole two and-a-half hours. It wasn’t that the first-grader wasn’t important- No, it certainly wasn’t. It was just-. The scene played over and over in her still tormented mind. She had screamed for her brother, Louis, after all her was only a fifth grader. Kyle and his fiends were all at fifth period lunch when it happened. She could remember the dialog down to every letter:

{“Leave me alone! - Please!” Louis begged and struggled to get loose of their grip, two of the lackeys holding him up by his arms and grinning.

The bully mockingly leaned in close to the smaller boy’s face. “I don’t think we can do that… can we boys?” Kyle then struck Louis a derogatory blow to the stomach and laughed menacingly.

Ginger stepped into the scene, “Don’t you dare touch my little brother!” Her hands curled into fists and her eyes flashed dangerously as she warned them.

“Is that a challenge, Kid?” Kyle smirked, emphasizing ‘Kid’ to give her the feel that an eight grader considered her small.

“If a challenge will get your mitts off my brother, yeah.” Ginger dared to only anger Kyle more that a mere seventh grader wasn’t afraid of his plaguing threats. Her mouth curled into a dangerous grin like that of a madman.

Kyle’s eyes held no fear as he smiled slyly and snickered, “I believe that won’t be necessary…” His smile widened into a grin that mirrored Ginger’s mad one. Her mouth shrank with curiosity and fear at why it wouldn’t be necessary. Even though fear had begun to grip her, she kept the feeling from showing in her midnight blue eyes. Kyle stepped a bit closer to her, clamping his hand firmly on her pale peach chin, “Knock him out.” The bully ordered without blinking or moving his golden cat eyes away from her deep sapphire blue one’s that dangerously flared with rage. His figure blurred as she peered behind him to see her brother being struck by a punch on the head and fall limply toward the ground. The fire within her grew as she focused her view on the enemy who now smiled at her with a hint of mischief gleaming in the corner of his pupil, “Don’t want him beat up anymore?” Kyle’s smile widened, “ Then” She struggled against him in a forced kiss. “I’ll be here next Monday… and so will you.” He grinned sickly as he walked off, motioning for his gang to follow, then they left Ginger and an unconscious Louis to sort out all of it alone.}

At the memory her face paled to a stark-white shade that weakened her as she put her head into her arms that sat crossed on the desk in front of her. Today was Monday. Lunch was but two periods away and she had no one to tell, no one to help her. “Ginger… Do you feel ill?” Mr. Madison, the art teacher, inquired, alarmed at the change in her skin tone. Ginger just nodded. She really did feel nauseated by the thought of what might happen to her if she didn’t comply with Kyle’s orders. “I’ll get you a pass to the clinic. “ her teacher insisted, deep concern in his voice; the same concern that her first grade friend had mirrored in those little eyes of hers.

Ginger feebly took the off-white pass marked by Mr. Madison’s signature in bold read ink and stumbled numbly down to the nurse’s office. She felt as though she could sob forever, but not a tear fell from her stubborn eyes. Herself, she wasn’t the type to bawl and didn’t believe that tears would help her already hopeless situation. “Ginger Malach.” She mumbled her name for the nurse, “My stomach is…” The amber girl trailed off and when to lie down on the deep-green, firm cot in the corner. Even though it had been a week ago she still felt the sickeningly sweet taste that was there when Kyle had kissed her cherry pink lips. Ginger shuddered. She could feel it more than ever now; that silver-gray sword stuck though her body; twisting, paining her chest with a sharp blow. Now she could imagine a puddle of crimson blood on the black nothing ground under her still-stunned body. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. She knew she couldn’t go home and there wasn’t anyone she could trust to tell. The bell rang as Ginger, annoyed by the ding of it, was one period closer to Kyle’s harassment.

*******

“Hold this under your tongue till it beeps.” The nurse instructed. The feeble, unkempt Ginger complied, even though her fear was nowhere near a rise in body temperature. There didn’t seem like much she could do but face hime and his hoodlums. She knew she had done the right thing for her brother’s sake and possibly his life. It still plagued her. What was going to happen to her? What were his plans?! “Bee-Beep-Bee-Beep,” rung the thermometer. She took it out of her mouth, 97.7 degrees is what it read. Nothing much, but that was as much as she figured she’d get. One period. She felt ill again at the thought. The memory emerged once more but ginger pushed it to the back of her mind and fought against the tears that were building up behind her stubborn blue orb-like eyes. The red-sweatered nurse took the thermometer, “Looks like you’re just fine sweetie. Do you wanna have a cracker and then go back to class?”

She nodded, her face still pale at the memory that had flared up. Ginger ate the golden-white crunchy form of bread, sucking at the salty flavor; hopping to ease her frightened self. The class she was missing now was gym. She loathed Phys. Ed. and was disgruntled at the idea of going there. There was so much more to do than sweat and gag while running stupidly around a track. Her forlorn pupils showed no angry flame as they had before, just the glossy sadness that filled her now; a wanted to let it out, the pleading that her waiting tears would disappear as she meandered down the fake-looking blue and white hallway that matched the damned stairs.

*******

Ginger’s gym clothes were a baggy pair of deep violet pants and tank top with small white flowers bordering her shirt collar. Although her clothes were seemed like they were slouching on her you could still see her faint lovely silhouette. She was neither popular nor nerdy, but her beauty surpassed that of the average seventh grade female. Why else would Kyle have done such a thing as kissing her? What else could be the reason for his grin while glancing across her feminine form? There was no other reason. Then her heart leapt with a new fear: what if something big happened? What if he… She didn’t want to think of it. ‘What now?’ Ginger wondered a desperate gasp as she joined her other classmates in a game of doge-ball. She stewed and hoped that this new thought wasn’t going to happen as the ball was thrown vigorously from her hand at a brown-haired boy on the opposite team. It hit him in the chest almost too hard, knocking him to the ground. She was still caught up deep in her winding fearful thoughts when a crowd began to gather around the fallen boy. Ginger’s body followed the mob instinctively while her mind toiled and continued to drift back to the subject of fifth period lunch and Kyle.