Temple Of The First Sun: Chapter 1

 Chapter 1

The chill ran up my spine, whirling me around to a window overflowing with summer. I shake off the nerves and turn back to the most important work of my life.

I scanned my closet for what felt like the thousandth time before finally settling on a sleek black dress that hit just above my knees. I quickly grabbed a turquoise headband, a pair of navy jeans to go with it, and a puffy jacket to protect me from the frigid 20-degree weather outside. Racing down the stairs as if I was running late, I tried to shake off the nerves that came with the last day of school at Rivers Edge Public Middle School.

 "Hey, Willow Bird want some noodles? I know you like them with eggs," my mom offered. 

"Nah, I'm fine," I replied, still lost in my thoughts. 

"What's on your mind, my little Widowbird?" My mom asked with a smile.

 "Nothing, Amma. It's all going so fast - high school and then college. I don't feel ready," I sighed and collapsed onto the chair. 

My mom chuckled and smoothed out my dress, kneeling in front of me. "You've always been ready. Now steady yourself and eat some of Saraswathi's famous noodles!" she announced with dramatic flair. 

I laughed, feeling the rock in my stomach melt away. "Okay, Amma!" 

"I like this. Ever since you released your anger, you've been calmer, happier even. Promise me you'll always tell me what's on your mind," she said, taking my hands. "Promise me, my Widowbird."

 I smiled a real, genuine smile and said, "I promise."

As my mom rushed away to check her emails, I took a step into the bathroom to clean up before school. I had trimmed off an inch from the ends of my long straight hair a couple of months before, and the new hair had transformed into a cascade of bouncy curls. Gazing into the mirror, I noted the contrast of dark, straight wavy hair with subtle brown streaks, framing my light bronze complexion and warm amber eyes. After some tug of war with my brush, I decided to leave my hair cascading down my back and left the restroom. Usually, I would feel ugly compared to the other girls, but, my anger was gone, and I felt lighter. I felt . . . strange, I felt . . . beautiful.

I looked around to see if my mom was around, and then rushed up the stairs straight to my reading room, surrounded by all sorts of books - classics, bestsellers, you name it. I had to grab my textbooks for the day, but before I left, I just had to get my hands on "The Journey of the Cambeir". I tucked it into one of my textbooks and headed to the kitchen, trying to be sneaky. But of course, my mom caught me. "Hey there, Widowbird. You taking a book to school?" she asked, already knowing the answer. I sheepishly admitted it and before I knew it, she was demanding three dollars from me. Ugh, why did I ever agree to that silly dare?

I sat at the ledge eating my noodles and vigorously stabbed at my eggs as I thought about only having $2 bucks.

10 minutes later I clamored down the porch steps after hugging my mom and I walked to the curb, where my bus was going to pick me up. After a minute or so, a big bus that read, Rivers Edge Middle School, pulled up on the curb, and the doors opened. When I walked up the steps, I heard the doors close, and the chattery bus went silent, I felt a hundred eyes on me and I made sure to glare at anyone who dared to stare at me. Look, if everyone was mad at me for not causing a fight yesterday then they can go crying. I'm fine with it. I felt my rapid breath, my heart pounding, and my head throb. It felt like an eternity before the chatting began again. I took a deep breath and continued down the aisle head high until I found an empty seat near the back, and I plopped down and pulled out my copy of The Journey of the Cambeir. Fingering pages I found page thirty-six and started to read. 

The sea was as cold as the lake was when she fell in, she took a step back shuddering at the awful memory. This time, she realized, no one would save me. She turned pale at the thought of it. Everything was gone, her ship, her parents, Did she have to die out here too? Alas . . . maybe it had to happen-

"Hello?" Someone yelled shaking me out of my book. 

"Yes?" I said my mind still on the cold seas in Alaska. 

That book? Just too good.

I looked at the person who had interrupted my book and saw an almond face and red-black hair, I would almost find him attractive until he rudely asked "If I was from another world."

"You in MY seat, I don't know if you’re new here but I seriously don't care so get OUT of my seat!" The annoying boy said again.

 " YOUR seat?" I said pronouncing the word your with extra enthusiasm. "I don't see your name on it. Plus-" I said hearing his growl, " It's the last day of school, of course, I'm new." I say sarcastically. "Also, it's flexible seating day."

Someone called out "Krish! Come over here! Flexible sitting day!"

The Kirsh guy flushed a dark red and mumbled a sorry before going to sit with the guy who had called his name earlier. I get back to my book and I sigh as I return to the worlds of masterfully built ships and loyal crews.

Of course, you can't stay in a perfect world forever, a rough hand slaps me back to reality. I lifted my head from the book just in time to see a bunch of boys giggling as they jumped off the bus. 

I got up and brushed of imaginary dust before secretly cursing them in my mind.

I walked down the aisle, getting out of the bus. 

Sure I was ready for what the last day of school brought.

I wasn’t ready.

As I walked through the bustling crowds of students in the hall, my heart began to race and my breathing quickened. I felt the weight of their stares on my back and couldn't help but speak out, "Stop staring, you can't afford me! Take a picture, it will last longer!" The snickering only intensified as I made my way to my first class, crew. I found myself tuning out the lectures and instead buried in my book, hidden under the desk. Math was just as dull as ever, but at least we got donuts. Lunch came and I sat under a tree, reading about glaciers and curses. The rest of the day was a blur of classes and screaming kids.

"SCHOOL IS OUT FOR THE SUMMER!"

The screaming in the hallways as we rushed out to the buses was deafening. My ears ringing. Their destination was quite different from mine as I sprinted to the gym, crashing through hallways, only slowing down when a teacher or two yelled "WALK!" At the top of their lungs. I sped up anyway the minute I was out of their sight. Finally getting to the locker rooms to change into my tank top and shorts. 

A dress is no outfit to run. 

I go over to Laya an eighth-grade runner and tap her lightly on the shoulder. She spins around as if I am about to attack her.

"Laya could you hold the curtains for me?" I asked not sure what state she was in.

" Yeah . . . sure." She relaxes but still seems far away.

I step into the curtained stall and pull it closed behind me so she can hold it there.

I strip quickly, pulling on my running clothes.

I tell her to let it go and I rush out sprinting before lining up at the table to check off my name. The girls would not snicker at me for being late. I was fast and that was all that mattered.

 The last meet. 

No reason to be nervous, everyone was chatting not even worrying that the Burning Lions might take our lead. I sighed glaring at everyone. I fished out my granola bar and bit into it, tasting chocolate. 

The bus rumbled as we drove to the Burning Lions new track. A gasp rose from my throat and seemed to echo through the bus. The talk of beating the Burning Lions stopped abruptly.

A sleek oval that was clean enough to squeak under our very feet greeted us with menacing surprise. The smell of victory was growing farther away. But as always coach had a way of making us forget that their new track was far better than ours.

 A speech and her’s were the best.

"Alright team, I know you all might be feeling a bit nervous right now, but I want you to know that you've got this. I have seen every one of you work hard, day in and day out, to get to where you are now. You have trained tirelessly, you have pushed your limits, and you have shown me time and time again that you are capable of great things. I know that the competition may seem tough, but I want you to remember that you are tougher. You have the skills, the talent, and the drive to come out on top. You have the heart and the determination to push through any obstacle that comes your way. Believe in yourself and your abilities, and go out there and give it your all. You've got this, team. Who cares about their new track? We’ve got the speed and that’s what matters! Let's show everyone what we're made of!" She yelled breaking both our ears and our deflated spirits. "Golden Eagles on Three!"

We all put our hands out and shrieked at the top of our lungs "ONE, TWO, THREE, EAGLES!"

It's a beautiful day, with clear blue skies and a gentle breeze. As we gathered at the starting line, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Time to beat up the Burning Lions.

The first event was the 400-meter dash for the non-varsity and I cheered as my teammates sprinted towards the finish line winning first place for the team. 

Now it's my turn.

The race started with me in second and my sworn enemy in first. Elizabeth Douglass from the Burning Lions. I've hated her ever since I started in sixth grade. She would take my place as first over and over. But not this time.

I stayed back in second, confusing her. But still, she took the lead happily. The line for 100 meters glared at me and I sprinted, lightening my steps, flying over yellow-red hurdles. We were neck and neck, my teammates screaming from the sidelines. Elizabeth looked at me with bewilderment written all over her face before I passed her. I panted heavily.

 I . . .I had won? I had won? I HAD WON! A medal was pressed into my aching hands as my teammates surrounded me smiling. 

Well, that's a good end to a school year. Elizabeth scowled at me with loathing I didn't think was possible.

Fast forward to the most boring car ride ever home, and a bunch of photos with my medal.

My mom put me to work planning games and decorating for my cousins.

 Little Vriah will throw a fit when she sees that I hung up pin-the-tail-on-the-unicorn. I completed the rest of the games quickly, and by quickly I mean four hours. (The breakout room took me the longest.) And was rewarded with my mom's surprised face and a bowl of chocolate ice cream before going to my bedroom. As I climbed up the stairs, I counted the colors: One was as red as blood, two was lime green, and three was as black as the desk my mom uses. 

I sit on my bed studying my paintings, massaging my aching legs: a splash of gold, a sea of blue, and a starry whale. I picked up a fresh canvas and began sketching, began sketching FURIOUSLY, I don't know what I was thinking but I came up with a picture of a boy, around nineteen, face worn with laugh-lines, light bronze skin, hazelnut eyes, and black-brown hair. The pencil broke.

I burned it.

I clasped the lighter into my hands and sobbed, stamping out the ashes. I picked up the ashes that seemed to smolder in my hands and poured them into the trashcan. I fell back on the bed and pulled my arms around me weeping.

I don't know how I fell asleep.

 I was awoken by someone thumping on the door.

 Loudly.

 I yawned and stood up, only to fall back into pillows that had never seemed so soft as right then. "Mom, school is finally over, Please let me sleep!" I said muffled through the pillows. 

"You have to eat, Chiriya, otherwise you will become even thinner and we already have enough problems," my mom said, sounding worried. 

I immediately sat up. 

She used my real name. 

Something was wrong, and it wasn't just because I was as thin as a stick. As I stepped outside, I didn't want to give her any stress, it was too close to the day. I silently yelled at myself and started counting to calm down. Four was grey and jagged like a tombstone. Five was a light yellow, almost as if they represented the soul. Six was white, like sadness and despair.

I heard a light knock on the front door. I check my watch frowning at the door. Who was here at Six o'clock? 

My house is quite literally stranded in the middle of the woods.

 I abandoned my counting and rushed down the creaking wood stairs. My heart skipped a beat as I cautiously answered it. 

To my surprise, standing in the doorway was a tanned young woman who appeared to be staring directly into the sun. Her features were delicate and refined, but there was a sadness in her eyes that tugged at my heartstrings. I couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to my doorstep and what I could do to help.

I turned around to call my mom, but before I could speak, a whirlwind of curly hair ran into me, almost knocking me over. "Vriah! When did you get here?" I asked, rubbing my shoulder. But Vriah paid no attention to me. "Hey lady!" she shouted. The woman, shaken from her trance, looked at Vriah. "My mommy said not to look at the sun because it hurts your eyes."

The woman smiled at Vriah, "Well Vriah your mom is quite right, now Chiriya, would you please call your mother?"

The woman's voice startled me, it was light like the breeze, and- WAIT HOW DOES SHE KNOW OUR NAMES?

I called my mother and I heard a clatter muffled by the walls before my mom's footsteps pounded the floor beneath us. A frantic look flashed in her brown eyes, she fixed it quickly, regaining the posture everyone remembers her with. "Widowbird, meet an old . . . friend of mine, Aurora. Now, me and Aurora have some things to discuss, You guys go play in the basement, okay?" Amma asked.

Vriah bounced away yelling "Okay."

I stayed turning the situation over in my mind. I shifted on my feet uneasily before catching the rising bile in the air. Grumbling I followed Vriah to the basement straining my ears to hear through the walls my mom built herself.

"Chiriya . . . Temple . . not safe . . . bracelet . . birthday . . . tomorrow." And then the conversation abruptly ended. I sighed and played a couple of games with Vriah before gaining the courage to go upstairs again. The woman was gone, left in her place was a small package my mom clutched with both hands. "Chiriya go pour out the soup before it gets cold," she says her hands shaking, face white.

 Despite my attempts to lighten the mood, my mother remained silent and distant. I was relieved when she eventually laughed. My jokes are a-maz-ing.

“Mom the soup is not going to run away, you can pour it yourself,” I say trying to keep a straight face.

 “Ha-ha, very funny, now go pour the soup into bowls or in 3 minutes you are going to run away, WITH FEAR,” she answers back now shaking from laughter instead of whatever was haunting her before. 

I know my dad is home before he opens the door. 

The sweet smell of flowers fills my nostrils. He sure is picky about his honeysuckle soap. He knocks on the doors knocking with his whole fist. If knocking was a contest my dad would win first place, and that Aurora woman would be last. I hear the click of the lock and my dad shimmies his way inside. 

If he has the keys, why knock?!

He strides towards me and jabs my nose before spotting Vriah.

 He whistles and says playfully, “Who invited a glamour girl into the house?”

I slide into one of the chairs farthest away from the beans. Ugh, who eats beans?

Vriah slides out of her own chair and runs across the hall before jutting out her chest and walking towards us like a supermodel, her squeaky blue shoes doing their job perfectly. 

 “Dad, no one invited you in, you walked in yourself,” I say blowing the soup on my spoon before slurping it, wincing as it still burned my poor tongue

"Widowbird!" My mom says, "Don't slurp your soup like there's no . . ."

She stops abruptly, not speaking.

 My dad whistles, “What Chiri? You're being a meanie” he says chuckling lightly “What’s up now?” 

I roll my eyes and say “The sky, the moon, the sun, honestly, should I keep going?” He raises his hands in surrender, stopping his charade, My mom instead breaks in. 

"But the sun isn't up, neither is the moon so . . ." My mom says rebukingly.

Dinner was content and with a birthday tomorrow, my mom insisted we needed sleep.

We all head off to bed. I push off the bed sheet and shake it lightly to get any dust off before I curl up next to Vriah. I reach over and turn off the light. I place my hands to the side of me and fold and turn over. I close my eyes and stare at the trashcan where the ashes of the canvas were sleeping. I breathed in and out before falling into a twisting and tossing sleep full of nightmares.