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( dreams by the cranberries ) SOUTHEIL HARBOR WAS NEVER QUIET. Not in the way most other east coast towns were during the winters. Where most families come to stay at their vacation homes for the summers, in Southeil, you stayed year round.
Everyone said it was because the school system was so good. From preschool through graduation you were getting what parents considered a good education. Maybe that's why after all these years the Chase family hadn't left. Because their dad wanted them growing up in a good, tight knit community, to be around all the things their mother had grown up around, too.
A warm breeze came through Darcy Chase's open window. With it, the smell of the salty sea air. She sat on the wood of her bedroom floor, cross legged in a pair of denim shorts that were too big for her scrawny legs. A pile of old books sat beside her. As she was reorganizing them back onto her shelf, she fought not to open each one and smell the yellowed pages, as to not slow herself down.
"Darcy!" Noah's voice echoed from downstairs, making her jump a little at the disturbance of peace.
"Whaaaat?" She yelled back nonchalantly, continuing to neatly stack her books on the white wooden shelf in front of her.
"Kaia's here!" He yells back, after what felt like a quick pause where he took the opportunity to roll his eyes.
Darcy put her last book on the shelf, standing up from off the ground. She went over to her window, Kaia's old green van parked in the driveway. She raised her eyebrows, surprised she didn't hear the engine running, as it was really the only thing you could hear in that car. Even if the music was all the way up.
She slipped on her red converse, the strings that were at one point a clean white, were slowly turning into an interesting shade of beige.
"Darcy!" Noah yelled again, his voice cracking slightly.
She closed her window. "I'm coming, chill." She mutters to herself annoyedly.
The bedroom was small, but big enough for all necessities. With white panel walls, and a sloped ceiling, underneath two big windows was her bed. A white iron bed frame that she'd probably had since she'd grown out of her crib. On top of it a white duvet, with little red roses sprinkled all over it.
She took a lot of pride in her bedroom. For a while it was all she spent her money on. She'd spend her weekends going from antique store to antique store to find new decorations. Old impressionist paintings with gold frames, porcelain lamps that looked like she found in her grandma's basement.
