Rebecca Harper Medley sat on her large country home's porch as she stared up at the grey clouds rolling in from over the horizon. It was a sure sign for a storm. It was funny how calm the open fields around her were. "The calm before the storm" must be an actual thing.
The wheat, a golden ocean, waved with the soft breeze that tickled Rebecca's freckle-dusted cheeks with dark-red locks of her long, wavy, hair. The cool wind felt so relaxing and nice, she could probably sit there forever.
It was moments like these that sometimes made Rebecca hesitant to try to sell the house. Nonetheless, she still wanted to, the house put her mother in so much debt. Not only do they have yet to pay off the initial house payment, but they have to pay extra for the plumbing and water to come this far out of town.
Her mother would pick up so many jobs, and being the responsible daughter Rebecca tried to be, she'd also work as many jobs as she could once she became of age. It frustrated her to work so often. She never really had any friends, but now she can't even hang out with 'possible' friends after school. She always is trying to get her mom to move. Rebecca even goes as far as to look for houses online in town that were nice and affordable. Her mother would turn down everyone. It made her want to scream.
Drip-drop...
Small droplets of rain splashed onto Rebecca as the clouds began to open up.
Pitter-patter...
They drops came down faster now and in larger amounts. Rebecca took this as her cue to stand up and walk to the safety of the large, wrap-around porch.
Whoosh!
The rain came in full sheets now. It became a struggle to see down the path to the driveway. Knowing that if she stood there, the wind would blow the rain on to her and soak her in one fell swoop, Rebecca turned and opened the old, creaky, screen door and stepped inside. After then closing the heavier, solid wood door, she saw through the window she made it back inside just in time, as the large sheets of rain were shoved onto the porch by the wind.
The steady beating of rain on the roof seemed to relax Rebecca as she slowly made her way to the kitchen. Catching a glimpse of the time on the old grandfather clock, she saw it was 5:30. Meaning half an hour ago, her mother started dinner. She always starts it at exactly five. No later, or earlier. Even if dinner wouldn't be ready until seven, she'd only start at five.
The aroma of Rebecca's mother's famously delicious baked chicken filled the air as Rebecca neared the kitchen's entrance. She peaked through the doorway to see her mother swiftly moving about the room, doing this or that. Her naturally straight and long, silky, raven-black, hair was pulled back into a low, loose ponytail. She wore a light-grey shirt and black sweatpants that stopped just below her knees. She also donned mismatching socks, a habit that was passed down to Rebecca.
Rebecca, on the other hand, wore old, worn-through, pale-blue jeans along with mismatching socks, as her mother had. She also had on a dark-grey camisole and a plaid blue flannel lazily thrown on top. Her curly and wavy, untamable hair (so it seemed) was also put in a loose braid that came over her shoulder, but still allowing her bangs to flutter free. Both her mother and herself had porcelain skin, but Rebecca's body was dusted in freckles, from head-to-toe. It was obvious who Rebecca got her looks from.
Rebecca slowly made her way to the middle of the kitchen, skillfully avoiding her mother's movements, and sat down on a barstool that stood next to the island.
The pleasant smells that wafted through the air were really irresistible. Rebecca's mother was a magician in the kitchen. Maybe her mom only wanted to stay because of the large kitchen. Even so, Rebecca took this into account before and yet after finding a house with a similar sized kitchen, her mother still turned it down.
After continuing to drown herself in thoughts of other homes, Rebecca was brought back to reality by the soft sound of her mother addressing her.
"Becca?" Her mom questioned Rebecca, using her nickname given to her by her father.
"Ah,"startled a bit, Rebecca tired to regain composure, "yeah mom?"
"Dinner will be ready soon, your flannel is a bit wet, do you want to change?" She asked in a solicitous tone.
"Uh, no, I'll be fine. It's just a bit of rain, I'm good."
"Well alright, be a doll and set the table, okay?" With a silent nod, Rebecca stood up and grabbed two plates and napkins, walking out to the dining room table, setting them down, then walking back into the kitchen. She then grabbed two cups and some silverware and repeating the same steps before sitting down herself back in the same barstool. She patiently waited until dinner was done so she could help carry food to the table.
Boring could be a good way to describe dinner. Possibly uninteresting and bland. Either way, Rebecca hated it. The food was comforting and flavorful, as per usual, but the atmosphere seemed thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something was up, but her mother just didn't seem to want to address it. Which is rather out of character since her mother tends to always chatter and speak when something's wrong. Then the constant sound of dripping made Rebecca just about go mad. Abruptly, Rebecca stood up slamming her silverware on the table, shaking the dishes that laid on top.
"Becca?" A noise of concern echoed in the old home as Rebecca's mother eyed her down.
"I'll go fix that leak" Rebecca mumbled. Grabbing a bucket with some supplies, she rushed up three flights of stairs to the fifth floor of the house. From there, Rebecca trudged up another smaller staircase as she reached the low ceiling of the attic. She knew exactly where the leak was. Why? Because that one place in the corner of the attic always leaked. No matter how many times they have fixed it.
That hole in the roof always frustrated Rebecca. It was just another reason she wanted to move so desperately. Yet, for some reason, it added on to her mother's list of reasons not to go.
"It makes this place feel more like home" her mother would say. 'As if' Rebecca would think in reply.
Sighing in defeat, Rebecca took a good solid minute to stare down the leak as it doing so would make it fix its self. She felt like she was doing a fantastic job at that, but, alas! it was not to be. Rebecca crouched down and wormed her way over to the small hole with a small metal bucket holding some wall plaster with a tool to apply it with and a rag. After smearing some plaster onto it to at least cover it, Rebecca laid out the rag underneath the leak and put the bucket on top for extra security.
As Rebecca made her way down the stairs, it donned on her how uncanny it was that she could always hear the leak from any of the five floors in her house. It was almost like the leak called her to it. Telling her that she needs to come up to the attic. The leak wasn't big, so it couldn't make that much noise, right? Rebecca stared at the attic door as if it led to another world. She then took a deep breath, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and continued to take her time and amble down the stairs to the dinner that awaited the rest of its consumption. 267Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2atksdvbFc
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