The Ravaged World (Book 2 of the Exiles Series)

Twelve: Talia

The weeks following the speech passed slowly and uneventfully. Each day was the same routine: it was hot, muggy, and frankly unbearable, until about mid-afternoon when the clouds congregated above the city and released hissing, stinging drops--acid rain. We couldn't go outside when it did this (not that I wanted to, anyway,) because it was so acidic that it actually burned the skin.

It was during these rains that I either napped in my room or lay on the couch, thinking. My birthday, the sixteenth of July, was one of these thinking days. While my mother started supper (apparently since it was my birthday we were having something that required a little bit more prepping than usual) I just laid on the couch. Streak strutted up to me, purring, but I swatted him away. His fur stuck up and he scampered off, throwing a hiss at me for good measure. Mom looked up at me from her cooking, amused.

"What's your problem lately?" she asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. "It's your birthday, you're supposed to be happy. Yet I don't know if I've ever seen you so listless."

I shrugged and laid down, placing my hands behind my head, pretending to ignore her. She set down her utensil and silently came over, not taking my hand. "You know," she whispered, leaning down and kissing me gently on the cheek, "I missed you when you two were on that island. I may have been without the two of you for five years, but it doesn't mean I forgot what it means to be a mother."

I switched positions to my side, and watched Mom cook behind the curtain of daydream. From behind, we could be almost identical, though she was just a few inches taller. Her dark hair fell the same way, and something about how relaxed her posture was made her look younger. Maybe a little bit older than me, but not by much. I was turning fifteen today.

Nicole suddenly appeared, having been doing something in our room. She gave me a pointed look before perching on the couch beside me. She didn't say a word, which was unusual for her. Criticism was one of her few hobbies.

"You're so quiet." I was so unaccustomed to starting the conversations.

She cocked a grin. "So are you," she remarked. "It's your birthday, you're supposed to be happy and stuff. I feel like I haven't heard you talk for...weeks. Dare I say since that speech-thing." Of course I knew what she was getting at.

"Uh, no," I told her. "That's not true. I know exactly what you're doing."

I sat up, feeling strange. Nicole stared at me. "Ok, whatever, honestly I could care less." Uneasy, she stood up again and walked away.

Mom and I watched her stalk away with equal fascination. "You are awfully quiet, though," Mom chimed in. That did it.

I stood to leave but was unsure of where I was headed. I peered out the dingy window, beneath where Streak was basking and licking his dirty paws. It appeared to have stopped raining.

"I'm going outside, family," I announced, starting for the door.

Mom looked up from her cooking. "Hey, you're not going out there alone," she told me.

I pulled on my shoes. "So overly-concerned mother returns," I sassed. "I'll be fine, I'm just going to the bathroom." I fibbed a little on that one. What I was really doing was going around the bathrooms, so I could find somewhere quiet to relax in peace. I mean...I really wasn't going to get a birthday present, we were poor, didn't I just deserve this much?

"Ok, but be quick," Mom warned. "Supper will be ready soon. Be careful." I promised that I would, and nudged past our lazy cat to the door. I opened it and stepped out, the air still muggy and metallic-scented from the downpour, and hurried down the front stoop in the direction of the bathrooms. The neighborhood was oddly quiet--either people were too afraid to go out after the potentially harmful rainstorm, or were sitting down to dinner. Either way, I was completely alone.