Silver Ashes part 2

Honk! Honk!

I glanced outside our bay window.

The sky was perfect shade of light blue, my favorite. The clouds scattered around like the puffs of smoke from my nightmare. It was apparent this nightmare was going to be harder to forget.

The honks continued. I looked down at a sparkling yellow car parked up on the curb on to the driveway.

No surprise who was making all the noise. Just Veronica Laurent in her 86’ Bimmer that just come of the assembly line. I guess her birthday present, the same present Willow wouldn't stop gossiping about all last week. Two more honks sounded off. And Willow jumped up, this time with no hesitation.

“Now I know I’m late!” she muttered, angrily.

I watched as Willow tossed everything around looking for her backpack. I looked back at Veronica, putting on glittery gloss and throwing on her shades. Willow and Veronica were “so-called” friends. I would think Willow and I were more like sisters. Even though Willow was a 5’8’ brunette with blue eyes and skin, white as chalk. I was the total opposite. I had golden brown skin, similar to leaves in the fall. My eyes were hazel, but if the light was right I swore they were green.

She finally found her backpack.

“Ok! I’m headin’ down you comin’?” I asked, yanking the door open, unaware of Headmistresses’ presence.

Headmistress Rowan or Ms. Rowan we normally call her depending on her mood, was as strict as she was beautiful, which was very. Her dark eyes always caught me off guard. Beautifully, her milk chocolate skin and cover girl smile were truly envious to me. Her hair, Willow and I often joked, was longer then the Mississippi, if she would every take it down from the braided crown around her head.

Ms. Rowan kept us all on a tight schedule, from the babes all the way to us teens. Although, because of these nightmares, I was always late and forever on her radar.

“Ivy Harte, Willow Mercier….You girls are late!” a firm voice spoke. I turned to see Ms. Rowan staring down at me.

“Morning Headmistress,” Willow and I jointly spoke.

“Um, bye,” Willow mumbled, rushing passed Ms. Rowan. Leaving me simply behind. I could hear her footsteps rapidly creaking down the old staircase.

Suddenly, a new bundle of sunflowers that I didn’t notice before appeared in Ms. Rowans’ left hand.

She replaced the dead ones.

Her back was turned.

Easily, I slide closer to the door trying to leave before an unwanted lecture began.

“Ivy!”

She stopped me.

“Yes ma’am,” I muttered, my head down.

“Meet me in the garden after breakfast, “she ordered.

I nervously agreed, then hurried down the stairs to rummage through the remains of breakfast. While I made my way down, I could see Willow stuffing toast down her throat.

“See!” Willow scowled at me as I walked in the mess hall of a kitchen. “Nothing left.”

I laughed.

“What happened?” she muffled. Mouth full of toast, referring to headmistress.

“Nothin’. Just wants me in the garden,” I answered. Willow rolled her eyes and headed to the front door. I knew she was jealous. Ms. Rowan was the closest thing to a mother figure to all of us, but she spent most of her time with me.

The garden was the only thing Ms. Rowan and I had in common. Since I didn’t go to school like Willow and the others. I did the housework Instead. Sorta’ like Cinderella. Headmistress calls it learning, “Home Economics.” I call it, “free labor.”

“I was not like other kids,” Headmistress would argue every time I’d suggest going to school. I used to attend school. But terribly, a boy in my class got hurt with only me around. Ms. Rowan pulled me out without warning; she said that I did a. “bad thing.”

It was the beginning of fall and leaves were jumping off the trees. The air was cool from the river water. The breeze was refreshing to my face.

Willow zoomed past me to run to Veronica, impatiently waiting in her Bimmer. Willow jumped in and loudly the music on the radio turned up.

I waved goodbye, but I guess she didn’t see me as Veronica sped down the block. No one really sees me outside THE SANCTUARY, so I didn’t blame her.

For a place named The Sanctuary, you’d think it would be a tranquil place, but this old Victorian plantation house, was just another place for the unwanted. Just adding a sweet name to something sour. For me, I’ve seen kids come and go, then back again.

I never left. Who am I kiddin’?

There was never many places to go in old Vicksburg other then up the river or down it.

The garden was the only thing that brought me peace, especially my roses already in full bloom earlier than expected. I paced over to pluck a couple to bring color to our plain room. As soon as I reached in, a sharp thorn sliced me directly in the middle of my palm.

Blood.

The most blood I have seen for a simple cut.

“Give me your hand,” Headmistress Instructed, pulling my hand toward her. I was a little uneasy because I thought I was alone. She poured water from the watering can over my hand, rinsing the blood. Once the blood cleared so did the cut. I pulled my hand away, so Ms. Rowan wouldn’t see that the cut was healed. I shook my hands dry.