The Photo: Chapter One (Part Two corrected)

  I rang the doorbell to Mrs. Ranker's house. Kenneth answered the door, chewing gum, with, of course, his ear buds in, listening to who knows what kind of wretched music. "Is Mrs. Ranker home right now?" I questioned the gum-chewing, music-loving boy.

  "I dunno." He said between chews. "I think she went to the library for 'knowledge'." He used his fingers as quotations.

  "Well, that is what you do at a library, get knowledge." I stated flatly.

  "Hey, I have all the knowledge I need in this thing right here." He tapped his iPod.

  I rolled my eyes as Ken started to play imaginary drums.

  I trudged up the stairs to my room. My new room, that is. My old one didn't survive the fire. I winced as I remembered it. Slowly I opened my door, closed, and locked it. I needed privacy for this. I walked towards my bed and looked under it. There was my open notebook, waiting for me to spill my secrets onto its blank pages. I pulled it out, and began to write.

  August 15th. Nothing new today. Mrs. M. dropped an old photograph on the ground after counseling session today.....if you even want to call it that. We hardly got started when she said we were finished. She seemed as if she were going to cry right then and there. The photo is of her and a little baby with gorgeous eyes. I wish I had eyes like that. Mine are just a dull grey, nothing special.

  I closed my journal, and slid it back under the bed. I then stood up to look in the mirror. A dull image of a girl with straight jet-black hair and pale skin stared back at me. Her appearance unnerved me. I smiled. But the smile wasn't a real one. I was good at faking.

  Mrs. Ranker gladly took me in after my family died. They were very good friends with my mom and dad, and Ken was good friends with my brother. The day they showed me my new room, I faked a smile, I faked a laugh. I sighed. When couldn't anything be real?

  I heard the front door open, and I ran out to help Mrs. Ranker. "Rose, could you help me with these books here?" Mrs. Ranker asked. I rushed over to catch the books that were spilling out of the bag.

  "Kenneth, can you come over here and help?" Mrs. Ranker asked looking overwhelmed. Ken continued to chew on his gum and play the drums. "Kenneth!" Ken now switched to guitar, completely oblivious of the trouble he was getting himself into. "KENNETH!" Mrs. Ranker dropped the bags of books and pulled the ear buds out of Kenneth's ears. Kenneth immediately grabbed for them, but Mrs. Ranker was to quick.

  "Moooooom!" Kenneth moaned.

  Mrs. Ranker slid the ear buds into her pocket. "You will get these back in a couple of days. Grab the bags and take them into the kitchen. NOW!" 

  Kenneth looked like he was about to argue, but apparently changed his mind. He stomped over, grabbed the bags, and stormed into the kitchen. I followed him with mine.

  "You can skip washing the dishes tonight Rose." Mrs. Ranker said to me. "Someone else will be taking care of that tonight." She glared at Kenneth.

  Ken rolled his eyes and started to wash dishes.

  "I am going to go to bed then." I said. "I am a bit tired from the walk to Mrs. M's house and back." I forced a yawn for emphasis. I didn't tell her the real reason I was going to bed early is that I was never able to sleep at night.

  "Okay, Goodnight." Mrs. Ranker replied.

  "Goodnight!" I said, and I walked up the stairs to my room. I quickly got dressed for bed, and grabbed the picture of the baby off my dresser, and laid down on my bed.

  I always have doubts, and fears right before I go to bed; and they had already started flying at me like daggers. Who killed my family? Why did they do it? Will Mrs. Ranker and Ken continue to accept me despite how different I am from them?

  I then looked down at the photo. It seemed to shimmer and glow as I held it. Especially the baby. Slowly my doubts and fear left me, and the blue-eyed baby gave me hope.