Seven Years Old

Chapter 2: Whispers In The Wind

By now, Clare would openly admit she hates everything. When she finally came home at around 6:30pm, her parents had cooked dinner, and a few hours later, they turned in for the night. What she now hated was the next day. This day, her parents decided to take away her tablet, and force her to socialize with the kids around the neighborhood they now lived in. By the time Clare left the house, she was irritated beyond comprehension. It's not like she didn't like going outside for a few hours, it's the 'socializing' part that she refused to take part in. She was 1.) too shy to speak to new people. And 2.) disliked humanity, and had lost faith in them a long time ago.

So instead of talking to people, Clare decided to go to the park in town, where there was a playground with a swing set she was now using. The playground only had a rickety slide that looked 900 years old, and unsafe, and a rusty old swing set with two seats which squeaked every time you swung. Breathing in the summer air, Clara swung gently back and forth on the swing, letting time slip by, looking up at the clouds as they tried to smother the sun, until she heard the girliest and bossiest voices in the history of stuck-up-12-year-olds.

"Hey, could you move?" Clara managed to ignore the voice at first, only hoping that they kid was not talking to her, until she felt a tap on her shoulder, confirming her worst fears. Looking down from the sky, the seventeen year old was once again faced with reality. There were three kids, all girls, all twelve year olds. One looked and practically gave off radiation that made everyone believe she was rich, she had long pale blonde hair, large hoop earrings that about touched her shoulders, a dark purple jean jacket with a pale purple dress underneath with a belt around her waist, and black leggings with black below the knee boots. "Could you move?" The girl asked, her word choice angering Clara. How dare this little girl demand for her to get up, when there was a perfectly fine swing next to her.

A small tick mark appearing on her head, she hesitantly grinned, and said through gritted teeth, "No, but you can use the other swing." This made the rich kid slightly irritated.

"You're new here, aren't you," The girl asked, her bossy voice making a mocking impression of pity, while Clara nodded, gazing at the small child that reached her ribcage at least. "I'm Pacifica Northwest, granddaughter of the town founder." She said, a deceptive smile printed out on her face, her words a clear sign that she was trying to convince our main character to move, but she didn't. She didn't move a muscle, not even to shake the younger girl's hand, which soon dropped.

"Hey, Clara Smith," Clare responded, her voice hard and unmoving, and sounding slightly irritated. Now the kids may think she was being intimidating, but if they paid attention, they would see her fingers fiddling with the rope on the swing, as if she had barely the courage to speak up to anyone.

"Yeah, well that's my usual swing, so why don't you move?" Pacifica said, clearly getting irritated by the "friendly" banter.

"Nope." Clara responded shortly, grinning sarcastically at the girl, and of course because rich kids don't know the concept of no, she glared at Clara icily.

"No? I can buy you and sell you,"

"'Cept it's illegal." Clara replied, continuing to fiddle with the rope for the string, only slightly lying when she said this. She didn't know if it was legal or not, but she did know that doing such a thing, would kind of be like slavery.

"Yeah, well...!" she uttered, at a loss for only a moment, "I can cover it up." She finished pridefully, making the teen in front of her laugh.

"Yep you probably could, considering you are such a widely known political person. The President says specifically that the Northwest family should join him for a nice hot tea every single day of the week!" Clara burst out laughing, as Pacifica forfeited the swing set to the new girl as she walked away, only slightly wounded. "Have a nice time listening to the Hamilton soundtrack all day, wallowing in self pity!" Clare continued, calling after the three girls as they left the playground. As the three kids soon disappeared from sight, Clara sighed, loneliness seeping from her every pore, and she soon started to regretfully wish that she was back at home. With her friends as summer passed by faster than they could say 'Starlight Starbright'. "Dang I miss Oklahoma..." She sighed regretfully, and got up from her swing set, and walked away from the play area, and left the park.