WAIT SORRY I WAS STALKING YOUR BLOG AND YOU HAVE A STORY? I WOULD LOVE TO READ STORY (if that's alright)
no probs here it is :)
A Curious Change in the Color of the World.
Amelia Bowen doesn’t let Zacharie Bowen smoke inside the house, so he frequents the front porch to please his step-sister. Often, he is joined by Alexander Grey, who too has a smoking habit and is not allowed to smoke in the house by his girlfriend Caroline Lane. Today, Amelia is also in Zacharie and Alexander’s company and she is uncharacteristically not complaining about the smoke. The three are waiting for Amelia and Zacharie’s cousin, Jessamine Grace, to arrive from the airport. Amelia is nervous because, being just an adult herself at 19, she does not know how she is supposed to take care of someone only three years younger than herself. Zacharie is annoyed because he should be at work. Zacharie is 23, and more of an adult than Amelia, but Amelia does not even factor Zacharie into the equation because he tends to forget how to take care of himself sometimes and runs the possibility of being a poor role model. Jessamine’s plane arrived only five minutes ago and it takes at least 30 minutes to drive home, but Amelia dragged the occupants out of her house after Jessamine called nonetheless.
It is raining and the trio is crowded under the overhang. Le Port d’Alon is beautiful in the rain; all of the trees look greener and the bright colored houses stand out brilliantly. Amelia stands up taller as the car pulls into the driveway. They watch intently as a petite girl with porcelain skin and waist length blonde hair climbs out of the car. She does not appear to have an umbrella and doesn’t seem to mind that strands of her hair are wrapped around her neck and stuck to her skin. She pulls a large suitcase out of the back of the car with surprising strength. Zacharie jumps as Amelia kicks him in the back of the leg.
“What the fuck?”
“Go help her,” she whispers. Zacharie throws himself off of the porch to meet Jessamine at the bottom of the driveway.
“Is this all you have?” He asks, eyeing the single suitcase skeptically.
“It’s all I wanted to bring.” She sounds offended.
“I can carry it for you if you’d like.”“That’s not necessary.”“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” And she took off up the path to the front door. When they reach the porch Amelia hits Zacharie on the arm.
“What are you doing?”“She wouldn’t let me carry it,” he says angrily. “For God’s sake,” he whispers, pushing the front door open for
Jessamine, who goes up the stairs on her own.
“The first room on the right,” Amelia calls to her, to no response.
The Bowen’s house is in no way small. There are six rooms and a good number of balconies and too many bathrooms and an estate that extends a mile or so to all sides. It used to be Zacharie’s family home until he reached twenty-one and his father moved out and married Amelia’s mother. Amelia moved in when she took over the ownership of her mother’s cafe in town. Zacharie pretended to hate having her there, but really he hated feeling alone. Amelia pretended to hate having him there, but really she thought of him as a friend. That feeling, was in fact, mutual. Alexander, foretelling an argument of sorts, slides out the still open front door.
Alexander is rather spectacular to look at. He does turn many heads on the street. Today he is wearing a vertical striped button down, suspenders, dark dress pants, and a double breasted coat and is carrying a bright yellow umbrella. His circle framed sunglasses are tucked into the collar of his shirt and he walks quite proudly. His hair is black and always meticulously combed, and his eyes are the same ebony. Where his hands, wrists, and neck are visible, his skin is covered in intricate, black tattoos. The design also covers the underside of his jaw and snakes up his jawline and around his ear. The question Alexander get’s the most is what he’s going to do about his tattoo’s once he is an old man, his answer is that he will never become and old man.
Alexander has very thin delicate fingers and he is a painter. He does drawings sometimes, however, he usually proclaims “I do not always draw, but when I do, it is shit”, and he won’t let anyone look. One of Alexander’s favorite paintings, which he is now displaying in the window of his shop, is black and white. He only likes it because he know’s Emmerson Dyer does not. When Emmerson Dyer came into the shop the day Alexander was painting it, he asked: “What the fuck is that? That’s not art”. Alexander replied: “Get the fuck out of my shop”. Alexander and Emmerson do like each other, they are rather close. The origin of their friendship could be described as a mutual understanding. If Alexander occasionally gave Emmerson advice, Emmerson would occasionally buy one of Alexander’s paintings. Alexander’s shop is next door to Amelia’s cafe. That was how they met each other. Alexander has a great respect for Amelia and her fierce independence. He does not know why she would want to be friends with him. He just assumes he’d done something great in a past life. He honestly did not know how he deserved many of his friends. To him, they all seemed infinitely better than he could ever be. Particularly James Caron. But James Caron is a person that deserves an introduction that Alexander does not see himself capable of giving. That job goes to Emmerson.
Emmerson is 23 years old and takes care of his 17 year old brother Matthew. Matthew is a complicated young man who feels so wholly and fiercely that he does not know what to do with himself sometimes. He is going to fall in love with Jessamine, but that is not important right now. Emmerson is writer and he loves to write about what he doesn’t know, because writing about what you know is boring and tedious. In a sense, Emmerson does know James. It is possible that he knows him more than even Amelia, who has know him the longest. But there is a lot he does not know about James, because James does not like himself, and therefore does not like to talk about himself.
Emmerson met James when he was working a desk job for a pediatric and adolescent psychiatrist. It had been late, almost nine p.m., and Emmerson was about to leave when James came in. From recent experiences, Emmerson knew that when a kid came in to the office late, it tended to be an emergency. But James was smiling.
“Can I help you with something?” Emmerson asked, eyeing James from over the top of his computer.
“I want to see Dr. Bellamy.”“Is there an emergency? Do I need to call him now?”“Nothing’s wrong, but I would really like to talk to him tonight.” Still watching James closely, Emmerson called Dr.
Bellamy, who told him to send James back. James eventually told Emmerson what was really wrong that night. He had just been talked out of a locked bathroom by his mother. He had had a razor in his hands.
James had asked Emmerson directly if they could be friends, after they had talked on multiple occasions in the waiting room. Emmerson was not in the particular place to argue, because he was new to Le Port d’Alon and knew very few people. By becoming friends with James, he also was introduced to Alexander, Amelia, Zacharie, and now Jessamine. Matthew followed Emmerson into those friendships. Matthew is homeschooled so he does not know many kids his age, and Alexander, Amelia and Zacharie were over at his home as often as he was at theirs. Matthew is on his way over to the Bowen’s now, with hopes of finding Alexander there. Matthew is Alexander’s protege of sorts. Matthew wants to be a painter as well and Alexander is pleased to share his knowledge on the subject. However, where Alexander prefers landscapes, Matthew prefers people.
Matthew isn’t really looking for Alexander. He wants to meet Jessamine, excited because she is closer to his age. Matthew arrives at the Bowen’s just after Alexander returns and James arrives. Amelia planned a dinner that Emmerson and Matthew didn’t know about. When she opens the door to Matthew and he explains, she yells at Zacharie who is in the kitchen. It was his job to relay the invitation to Emmerson and Matthew.
“Call your brother,” Amelia instructs as she rushes back to the kitchen with a bowl of salad in her hands. Matthew pulls out his phone and sends a message to Emmerson, then takes a place in the kitchen on a bar stool.
“Matthew, do me a favor and go tell Jessamine dinner is ready.” Matthew goes without complaint to the front staircase. He stops at the only door that is closed and knocks softly.
“What is it?” She snaps. Matthew realizes that she is trying to sound irritated, her bell like voice does not allow it.
“Dinner’s ready.” The door flies open.
“Who are you?” They are both studying each other intently. Jessamine gathers that, though he is young and you could tell, Matthew would soon have one of those timeless faces. Matthew notices the small things, like her sharp jawline, and the flecks of gold in her green eyes, and that she had been crying. Jessamine notices that he notices at the same time. She rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Tears are not for the weak, they are for the strong. To remind them that they have a heart and that it can be broken,” Matthew tells her. She looks up in confusion.
“My brother wrote that,” he explains. “He should be here soon. You will hear a lot of that, he likes to talk ellegantly.”
“I think it’s rubbing off on you.”
“Perhaps. Dinner?”
“Tell me your name first.”
“Matthew Dyer.” Jessamine pushes past him and down the staircase, Matthew follows, feeling quite content for a reason unknown to him.
