FIGHTING FOR SURVIVAL

Chapter 5

GUYS PLEASE READ THE SILVERLIGHT. IT IS A NOVEL ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS AND I PROMISE YOU WON'T REGRET READING IT! :))

Dylan

"Dylan, you can't do that!"

"Yes, I can, Eric!"

"Two dollars says you can't!"

"Two dollars says I can!"

My older brother Eric and I were playing in our backyard. It was a very hot summer afternoon and the sun was blazing down at us from above. Our house, a cheerful two-storey red and white brick building rose lazily above us.. The sunlight was reflected upon its smooth glass windows and the white fence surrounding our tiny backyard and confining us to this cramped premises was bathed in a yellow glow.

The serene yet hot afternoon had prompted us to get out of the house. Our mother called us crazy for wanting to play outside when the sun was scorching hot. To be honest, I did not even know myself why we preferred the very hot outside over the cool indoors.

I had just stated that I could go all the way to the Thompson's house, cut off a bunch of the cherry red roses in their neat garden and run back home, all in about five minutes.

The Thompsons were a family of three. They were rich people who liked to live comfortably. Their daughter, Lisa went to elementary school with us. I had known her since I was three. Our first encounter had been in a park. On the swing set to be exact. She had been swinging on one of the swings while her mom pushed her. I had been about to sit on the empty one next to hers but the minute I touched the swing, she had started crying. Her mother had said that Lisa was waiting for a friend to come and join her on the swings.

I had then swung on another swing set which just so happened to give me a clear of view of Lisa. I noticed that her eyes would ocasionally turn a deeper shade of brown, almost black, when someone came near her. I had also noticed that the friend she had been waiting for had never shown up. On my way home, I had described her to my own mother as "the spoilt little creature who happened to be very weird and ugly and who had hated me upon first sight"

That day had been the day before my first day at preschool and it just so happened that "the spoilt little creature" had to sit at the seat next to mine for the whole year. It was really odd how I still remembered that day so vividly after six whole years. Kids do not normally remember the first few years of their life. I had recalled another childhood incident to my mom once and she had been positively baffled, seeing as a child's brain is not mature enough to register such early events to memory. It was extraordinary that I could remember so far back.

Mrs Thompson, a tall thin lady with straight, brown hair and a hooked nose cared deeply for her flowers. It was rumoured in our tiny neighbourhood that she would tear anyone limb from limb if they so much as touched her precious flowers. But for my petty nine year old mind and Eric's slightly mature ten year old mind, the stupid idea of somehow getting away with it seemed like a good achievement.

I got up off the grassy ground and made my over to the fence.

"Okay, so it's three right now, " Eric said. "You have to be back by three five."

"Piece of cake," I replied, climbing over the low fence. The Thompsons lived a good few houses away from ours but getting there only took you about two minutes if you ran. I ran all the way to the end of the street where their house stood, tall and proud. The front garden was neatly trimmed and no one was in sight. If my judgement served correctly, Lisa was at her ballet lesson and Mrs Thompson was out with her husband. Their routine was quite easy to remember since it was the same every day.

I crept up the small pathway that ran alongside the narrow driveway and then hid behind a big black trash can. The house seemed silent and dark at this hour with all the blinds drawn across the windows. The garden gleamed under the glow of the sun and the red rose bushes were easily distinguishable among the mass of green.

I snuck out of my hiding spot and scurried over to the nearest bush. Up close, the roses looked as red as blood with lots of thorns sticking out. I was momentarily stumped. How was I supposed to chop them off without cutting myself with the thorns? I had not even bothered to bring a pair of gardening scissors. When I had made the bet with Eric, I had not even considered the fact that I didn't have two dollars to give him! I had no choice but to cut the roses. Somehow.

I was just running my hand over the thorny branches when I felt it. A presence. There was someone standing behind me. My blood ran cold. At nine years old, getting caught while doing something undesirable was my biggest fear, especially getting caught by a grown up who was rumoured to make children's lives miserable. It was only a rumour though, I told myself firmly. Just a rumour that the kids at the park had sprung up. Lisa's mom hardly ever talked to anyone at our sparsely populated school. She usually kept to herself most of the time. The only time she had spoken to me had been that day in the park and then one day she had complained about me to our teacher. Apparently, I was a source of anger and disgust to her precious daughter. The truth was, I never even spoke to Lisa except when it was necessary.

"You should go," said a voice.

I turned around slowly on the spot. The voice that had cut through my thoughts was most certainly not a grown woman's. it belonged to a certain nine year old girl. Lisa Thompson. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing her ballet outfit.

"Uh, umm, I was only....." I stammered. I was wondering why she was not at her ballet lesson.

She pursed her lips and replied,"If talking is so much of an effort for you, why do you even bother? And to answer the question you did not find it in you to ask, my mom is on her way to pick me up for my ballet lesson. She got held up somewhere but is on her way home now."

I could not help gasping. This girl was strange to say the least. How had she known what I was thinking?

"I had a bet going with my older brother," I blurted. "If I don't get a bunch of these roses, I'll have to give him money. I don't have money." I could not believe I had just said that to her. I did not know her that well and it was pretty obvious she hated me.

Her lips tugged into a small smile. "If you really want to know, I don't hate you, and if I give you the two dollars you owe your brother, will you leave my mom's roses alone?"

I was too stunned by the fact that she had admitted she did not hate me to even notice that she had supposedly read my mind again. Not that it mattered to me whether she hated me or not. It was just that after all those days at school and that day in the park, I was pretty sure I was not her favourite person. I was also pretty sure she did not even remember that day at the park. We had both been three years old at that time!

"I do remember that day at the park," she said slowly.

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A/N
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