Apocalypse of New Earth (Discontinued)

Chapter 3: Tiz

So this chapter is focused more on getting to know Tiz, and there is some bonding with Celeste that will come into play. Oh, and that restaurant owner will make a short appearance.

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Tiz

Chapter 3

That night Vexi and Nova stayed in my house. Since three years ago I was old enough to possess my own house - seventeen was the age of an adult in this city - I was alone.

Long ago I had asked Olivia and Celes if they wanted to stay in my house, seeing as it was so big. Celes agreed, but lately she had been staying out late. I barely see her with the exception of the time between when she wakes up to the end of practice. I do not know where Olivia is staying.

Vexi was soon lounging in my couch, her not so long legs crossed at the ankle on my coffee table. Nova was watching me as I made our dinner. I stirred the chicken around and turned to dice the vegetables.

Living on my own for a while had given me some skills in the kitchen. I have made dishes that even Clark Grayson, the the owner of the Café, liked. He was very picky when it came to any food other than his. I got to say, though, he is one good cook and only twenty-three.

I was making chicken stir-fry for dinner. When I was little, there was a family that I lived with for about a year. The parents were amazing cooks. They taught me so many dishes, but in their hometown they were famous for one dish. Their stir-fry was to die for. I still could not get the taste right, even after nine years.

"Where did you learn how to cook like this," Nova asked. She was standing on the opposite side of the counter, more than likely to get away from the flying knives. "I haven't seen someone who could cook like this since I met with the finest chefs on the fifth colony."

Without looking at her, I turned to put the vegetable with the chicken, onions, and garlic. "When I was little," I started, "I went through several homes. Each one was different. Some didn't really care about me, and others paid too much attention. There was one family that I really fell in love with. After about a years, they had a child and couldn't support the both of us," I continued, my voice raw. "They kicked me out as soon as they checked out the new foster family."

As I took a shaky breath, I wondered if anyone would actually listen to me. Nova appeared to be drawn in. It was probably because of the emotions that I actually showed. "The funny thing is, I think they really loved me. They taught me how to cook, and they taught me how to love again. They just loved someone else more."

The monkey bread that I was about to put in the oven froze in midair. This reminded me of what the mother of that family used to do. She would tell stories as she made dessert. It was always about someone who was wonderful, and yet sad. Too bad I was not as wonderful as those people.

"Do you remember our parents," Nova said, deciding to change the subject. I really appreciate that. "All I remember is their eyes when I try to think about them."

I looked at her. All I knew was this sad realization. I was the oldest, and therefore I was supposed to remember them. "I'm sorry," I told her, "but I don't remember them. I can see my dad's azure eyes and pitch black hair and our mother's electric eyes, but I don't remember much else other than the fact that I love them. I think that one foster family had pictures. Maybe they are packed away somewhere in all the stuff that I don't use."

"Oh," was all she said. We sat there in silent grief. After a few minutes of me stirring the chicken, Nova said, "I remember loving them with all my heart. When I think about it, I see two. I didn't know it was you, but now . . . now I know those two girls names. I want to know them as the people they are now."