15th Century Girl

Past, Present, and Future

             The basement was cold and wet, but that didn't stop my father from making it his 'home away from home' as he called it. He was a scientist, but, not the scientist you would expect him to be; he was more like that mad scientist you see in the cartoons. Anyways, I understood why he delved so much into science; my mother left him and I when I was six months old. The basement with his equipment is where he could forget about everything and focus on his experiments and inventions. I thought he was a really great scientist, that is, until they took him away.

               One of our neighbors had reason to believe he was doing illegal experiments on animals and they thought it to be an 'unhealthy environment' for me. I disagreed and tried to battle them, but who would believe a fourteen year old over a thirty four year old? So, for a year I have been in foster care and my father has been suffering, needlessly, in a mental institution; Holly Hill to be exact. My father kept his experiments top secret and I wasn't even allowed to look; once he yelled at me for the entirety of the evening for delivering a drink to him. He said that "I almost saw one of his most secretest inventions" he then continued with "If you saw it, I would have to kill you, and I don't want to do that to my only child!"

                He was joking, of course, but I've always wondered what he was doing. I would hear sounds similar to explosions and then hear joyous laughter; I would then assume his experiment worked. My father had short black hair and glowing green eyes, he didn't have any facial hair; mostly because it would catch on fire if something went wrong. He was tall and lean, quick witted, and of course, brave. Who would be in the same room with a live hand grenade, willingly?

                On May 4th they came for him; they held me and dragged me to a black suburban whilst they put him in a white car, he went willingly and I did not. The only way they could get me inside the car was to drug me, with a woozy head I woke in foster care; I closed myself off and wouldn't talk to anyone, until I met Penelope. Penelope is a short, blonde girl with shimmering brown eyes; Penelope's mother was a 'woman of the night' and her father was a drug dealer, she came to the foster home on her own accord. At lunch I was alone when she came up to me and sat in front of me, a glittering smile plastered on her face. She then stuck out her hand and told me her name; along with the parameters of why she was there.

                I hesitantly shook her hand and answered "I'm Percyla, my father was taken to a mental hospital and my mother left" Penelope sighed and nodded.

              "Yeah, why was your father taken to a crazy house?" She asked setting a small, red lunch box on the table and taking a sandwich out from it.

              "He was falsely charged with experimenting on animals" I answered as my brown hair fell from its ponytail I had banished it to.

                "Oh, he was a scientist! I do love science!" Penelope said, she got excited and started to talk about what she liked and disliked. Penelope was a chatter-mouth and I thought she would never shut up, but she was good company. We left lunch and walked outside where children were playing football; but they were playing it wrong. In order to get Penelope to shut up I asked if we could play, and they answered warmly.

                "Get lost, girl!" One of them shouted, he was the one holding the football. He was no more than eight, he had blonde hair and green eyes and a tongue that wouldn't stay in his mouth. "Football is a man's sport! No room for ladies!" He yelled with laughter. Then a tall man stepped forward, he had dark brown hair that almost looked black with blue eyes, he had a lean figure and wore a grey jersey with the white numbers 11 on it. He looked the age of Penelope and I.