Scarlet, Chapter 1

Missouri- December 25, 1998

Chapter 1

Scarlet’s dark eyes scanned the pitch-black night for any lingering passerby as she parted a sheet of dangling briars, careful not to prick the tips of her fingers on the sharp little points of thorns. The fingerless wool gloves that she wore- a long-ago present from her Auntie Venus- did a fairly acceptable job of protecting the rest of her hands, but in the wintertime the tips of her fingers were often subject to frostbite and any other forms of hand torment.

For a moment, all was silent as Scarlet peered around to make sure that there weren’t any other people hanging about in her patch of woods opposite from the quay. Then out of the blue, she emitted a high, soft trill of a whistle through her chapped hands, cupping them around her mouth. After a moment of breathless silence, the soft patter of feet against leaves steadily approaching the young orphaned girl could be heard. The footsteps grew steadily louder and louder, the echoes spreading in the night like oil on water.

At long last, a shaggy brown head poked through the underbrush, followed by a body and four squat, furry legs. The dog scattered an assortment of deciduous leaves and twigs in his wake as he padded over to Scarlet, tail wagging furiously.

“Hello, Homer,” Scarlet whispered, her voice clear and melodious. She had a distinctive English accent, something that was seldom heard in Missouri. “Where were you?”

The mutt bayed mournfully and gave her an appeasing look, as if to apologize. With a sigh, Scarlet plopped down on the blanket of snow next to her canine friend and folded her gloved hands behind her head. Her black hair was spread in a halo around her face as she tilted herself towards the vast, star studded sky and breathed a wish between her chattering teeth.

I wish that there was a way for me to meet someone special, someone who would mean something to me. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be so alone.

She exhaled as the wish drifted up and into the air, sailing away to some distant place where wishes are kept and dreams are never shattered, but cherished. 
The soft crackle of snow beneath Homer’s feet as he settled into the snow next to her was lulling. Scarlet yawned, rolling over and giving Homer a pat as she drifted off to sleep.

Her eyes fluttered closed as the first fragile flakes of snow began to fall, nestling in her hair and eyelashes like stars fallen from above. This angel girl, preserved in the snow, wouldn't wake for a long time.

---

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Small, bright little chirps of noise battered Scarlet's ears  as her vision faded in. Through the haze, she could make out that she was sprawled on a flat, shiny surface the color of fresh snow, yet nothing like it. Snow was crisp, clean, and smelled of the wilderness. This surface smelled of antiseptic and chemicals, and it was giving her a crick in the back.

With a slight groan, she boosted myself into a sitting position and let out a sharp gasp of surprise. The room that Scarlet was lying in looked nothing like the place where she'd fallen asleep!

“Hello?” Scarlet called, cupping her hands around her mouth. The echoes sounded through the room, exactly as she had expected. These surfaces must be so shiny that any noise at all bounces right off of them.
Scarlet suddenly began to feel nauseous and weak, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to sit up much longer. 
“Hello, where am I?” she repeated, more urgently. There was no response.
In the dismal silence, Scarlet took the time to glance at her surroundings.

The strange room had peeling wallpaper of a gingery brown color, which stood out in sharp contrast against the polished, white marble floor. Somehow it soothed Scarlet, reminded her of the pastries that mother used to bake using brown sugar.

I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, my feet leaning on a white wicker chair. The air smells sweet and savory with the scent of a baking pastry.

Mother pinches some brown sugar between her fingers and drops it into my hand, the grains smooth and cool against my palm.

“Can you drop that in, Scarlet?” she asks, her eyes- brown, like mine- fixed on the mixing bowl as she stirs the thick, soupy batter with her wooden mixing spoon. I nod my head, lifting the sugar over the bowl, but hesitate as the question of what brown sugar would actually taste like pops into my head.

“Scarlet?” Mother asks suspiciously, arching an eyebrow. With a small sigh, I let the brown sugar slowly trickle through my fingers and into the bowl in a tiny waterfall.

I never did find out what brown sugar tasted like.

---

Scarlet let out a long sigh of a yawn, stretching her arms above her head. She linked both hands together to form an arch over her head, a stretching pose that her dad had taught her long ago. The memory suddenly dampened her mood with nostalgia.
It seems like it’s been ages since I was last awake.

Tentatively, Scarlet slid off of the side of the bed and took a step forward, towards the door.

WHAP! The moment she brought her right arm forward it jerked back abruptly, as if attached to an invisible string. A sudden jolt of white-hot pain shot up her spine. Biting her lip, Scarlet glanced down at her arm and her worst fears were confirmed.

There was an IV attached to it with a snaking cord that wound behind her bed and into an IV wrack. A clear packet of fluid was pasted to the front of her arm, somewhere around her elbow, with a few linen bandages

I am in the hospital, and I can’t even pay for it!
Waves of panic crashed over Scarlet as she slumped back onto the bed, defeated. After a moment of lying there and staring at a shiny black beetle scuttling across white abyss of a ceiling, Scarlet swung her knees up onto the bed and rested her head on the stiff white pillow, a strand of her dark hair falling over her face.

All alone, in the stiff white room, on the stiff white bed, without the familiar, friendly presence of Homer…

… the girl who had been through so much finally broke, and began to cry.

A/N What do you think? I like Scarlet’s character quite a lot, to be honest. c: I should have the next chapter up fairly soon.

(Btw, Violetta Cole is just my pen name. I also blog under the Animal Jam account Edwingrim2.)