www.whyville.net Sep 26, 2010 Weekly Issue

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Caught in the Wind

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'The summer sky was the color of cat vomit as the sun began to take its place. Although, to get your cat's vomit the correct shade of pink, you'd have to feed it salmon-flavored cat food for some time,' Lucy thought.

Lucy pushed the shed's door open a few inches and carried her body out of the opening. The twinkling grass was coated with a layer of morning dew. Lucy's feet sunk into the green whiskers sticking straight up from the ground with an uneasy feeling. Her stomach twisted and turned for what seemed like hours. It was hard to stay quiet for so long. She tad to tip-toe across the yard without making a sound just as loud as a pin dropping to the floor.

The nature around the child caused her eyes to swirl around. Flowers over there and those leaves calmly drifting to join the grass! A smile spread across her face and her eyes seemed to pop out of her head.

Still, Lucy tried to keep from becoming distracted. She knew this whole "procedure" like the back of her hand. Although, to mention it, she always found that to be a quite odd expression. I mean really, can you tell me exactly what the back of your hand looks like?

She took little steps as if she was unsure of her surroundings. It was only her house, though. Well, it would be her house if she wanted it to be. After all, she had recently run away and her plan was just heating up. She could knock on the door, and BAM! Home!

But that wasn't her plans. Not even close!

Her heart started to pound like thunder and her body was growing tense. Her lip began to tremble and her knees were starting to shake. A single tear sparkled in her electric blue eyes but she quickly shoved the drop of water off her face. Did she miss her family? Could she not survive on her own? Lucy didn't want to go back. And she never would. Or at least she promised herself that last week.

She had just flopped onto her bed after she finished writing down her plans. She thought it'd be easier if she stayed organized throughout her "mission."

Just then Constance's shadow appeared in the hallway.

"Lucy?" she said, pushing the door open as she knocked.

"Too impatient for me to open it, huh?" Lucy giggled.

"Anyway," Constance started, ignoring Lucy's comment, "I know I'm not your real sister -- only adopted. But I love you so much. And I never want you to leave me. I'd be scared to death. Promise me you'll never leave me." And soon enough, Constance was sitting at the edge of Lucy's bed with her palms covering her face. Lucy raised her eyebrows. How could Constance possibly know about anything? She'd never told her (or anyone else) that she was going to leave the house tomorrow on the biggest journey of her life.

It was then that Lucy decided that once she left, her family would not see her again. She spent the rest of the night weighing her decisions. Yes, or no? Leave or not leave? A rather simple question with two answers to choose from.

"Leave." she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

And so be it. She would leave -- forever. She knew that a portion of her family would miss her with all their hearts'. But on the other hand, she was left to doubt that some of her so called "family members" would even realized she left. She couldn't stand living in this home with a mess of four other kids and just one mom to share. Her dad had given up on her family a few months after Little Kimmy had been born. Eh, she didn't feel the need to have him in the house anyway. He obviously didn't care about his own children. So why should Lucy care about him?

She couldn't return home once she left. It was just common sense to Lucy. What if she left and it was proven she did need a family? And then she returned home, but wanted to run away again? Someone would obviously keep a close eye on her and she'd never get a second chance. It was simply a "take it or leave it" deal.

So Lucy packed her bag and headed for the door but stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. Might as well stay for dinner, she thought.

Around 6:30 or 7:00 (she didn't know the exact time since her watch was a bit off and she never got around to fixing it) she aimed for the door. This time, she placed her hand on the knob and turned it with only a slight amount of force. But for the first few days, she'd decided to just live in their shed and keep an eye on her "family." Might as well see their reactions.

Only two more days of living in the shed, and then off the child would go. In to the real world. With streets lit up with "normal" people. She was looking for a specific one.


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