Entry 10 ~𝘐𝘷𝘺'𝘴 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯~

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Author: TorchInTheDark (Quotev)

Genres: Historical, Romance

Word Count: 2890

Trigger warning: W@r mentions

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Winn, Luisiana USA
December 7th, 1941

Rain.
Ivy loved the rain.
She thrived in it, in fact.
Despite the biting cold of winter, she relished the way the drops seemed to whisper across her skin, relished the thick, sweet scent of the clouds, relished the light splashing sounds that sent tiny droplets to land on her ankles, relished the fact that it was rain, not snow.
Though it sent the rest of the world into a deep gloom when the clouds darkened the sky, it seemed to drown out all of Ivy's noise, quiet as it might actually be. That noise seemed to suffocate her each sunny day, and kept her awake every clear night.
It all seemed to dissipate once the rain started pouring.
Ivy's dreamy trance screeched to a halt as she heard her thirteen year old sister's high voice calling from the house. "Ivy! Ivy, get back in here! Mom will have your head if you catch a cold for standing out in the freezing rain!"
Ivy closed her eyes. Speaking of noise.
She gave herself one last moment before turning back to the house. "Coming, Laura."
Laura blocked the door as Ivy neared. "Not like that, you're not! Hold on, let me get you a towel before you track filth all over the house." Laura scurried back inside.
Ivy leaned against the wall of the house, staring out at the downpour and taking deep, slow breaths of the rain-filled air.
Laura poked her head back out and tossed Ivy a large towel. Ivy wrapped it around her body, albeit grateful for the warm break, wiped her bare feet on the welcome mat, and stepped inside.
Laura clicked her tongue like an old hag, looking Ivy up and down. "You've completely soiled your dress!"
Ivy glanced down at her ankle length light blue dress. It was indeed soiled, the bottom slowly fading from blue to brown, the rest of the dress completely soaked.
"You'd think that at seventeen years old, you'd know better than to drench yourself in rain--like some dog." She huffed. "You're going to scrub that out, and you've got yourself to blame if you die of hypothermia."
Ivy rolled her eyes, hoping Laura didn't notice her slight shivering, and slipped into her room, closing the door behind her.
She sighed, then went to the window to open it just a crack so she could hear and smell the rain. A whoosh of cold air swept around the room, drawing out the dry, stale air.
She peeled off her wet clothes and tossed them onto hangers in the closet to dry. Then she grabbed a new set of clothes, with a fresh, long sleeved green dress, and slipped them on. She buttoned up the back, brushed out her hair, and flopped onto her bed.

Ivy blinked awake groggily as a ray of sunshine poured onto her face.
She groaned and rolled over. She had accidentally fallen asleep to the rhythmic sprinkling sounds of the rain. Now here she was, in the middle of the evening, and somehow Laura hadn't come to throttle her.
She dragged herself up and did her best to smooth out the new wrinkles on her dress. She paused, decided to keep the window open, and exited the room.
She heard the buzz of the radio in the kitchen before it was turned off.
She shuffled into the kitchen, hoping no one could tell she'd been asleep.
She saw her mom, leaning with her elbows resting on the island counter, head in hands. Across the island sat Laura on a stool, biting her lip anxiously and staring out the window.
"Uh... what did I miss?" Ivy asked tentatively.
Mom slowly looked up at her, deep sadness and worry soaking her gaze.
"Mom? What happened?" Ivy's heart beat hard, her stomach sinking.
Mom took a deep, shaky breath, before saying in a voice barely over a whisper, "Pearl Harbor has been bombed. The U.S. is officially a part of the war."
Ivy went numb. She had expected it--the United States had been preparing for their join to the war since September--and yet, the news of the attack struck her with shock so strong she seemed unable to breathe.
After a second, though, she found her breath, and it came fast. "Excuse me." She hurried out the door and stumbled outside. The rain had stopped while she slept, so all that was left was the cool, humid air, muddy ground, and cloudy sky, promising more rain to come.
Some small part of her was bothered that she was getting yet another dress dirty, but the rest of her was too overwhelmed to care.
She held her arms around herself, and a sob escaped her as she stared at her feet.
She'd still had some hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd some how wriggle out of the war, avoid it somehow. It wasn't a realistic hope, but it was something. Now there was nothing.
She looked up and realized that, without even noticing, she'd been wandering away from the house and down the street, her bare feet slapping on the sidewalk. She decided not to stop, instead letting her feet take her wherever they would. Anything would be better than back home, with Mom's sad, tired eyes and Laura's anxious twitching. Anything to keep her from thinking of the war.
She was suddenly set to an abrupt halt when she slammed into the hard chest of a boy.
She fell back and landed on her bottom, almost sure she saw stars whirling about her head.
"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" the boy said. He leaned down and lent her a hand.
She stared at it a moment, then took it hesitantly.
He helped her up, and their eyes met.
He was a tall boy, several inches taller than her. His eyes were blue--but not striking and intimidating; dark and soft. His hair was dark brown and curly, falling across his forehead.
She stepped away and snatched her hand back. "Sorry. I wasn't really paying attention."
He shrugged. "I think everybody's in a bit of shock at the moment, what with the--"
She nodded quickly.
"Yeah."
There was an awkward silence between them, as they both avoided eye contact and wondered what now to do.
"Oh, uh, my name is Kenneth. I live down there," he pointed behind him. "I was taking a bit of a breather."
Ivy nodded again. "Me too. The house seemed a bit too stuffy."
He smiled grimly in understanding.
"My name is Ivy," she added.
"I like that," he said enthusiastically. "I don't know that I've met someone named Ivy. It's... pretty."
She blushed, searching for something to say and finding nothing. "I, uh, should probably go home. I need to see if my family is okay."
His eyes widened, as if suddenly remembering what had happened. "Yes, me too." He took a hesitant step back, and Ivy did the same. He gave her a small wave and turned. She didn't know why, but she watched him as he left.
That is, until he looked back, and then she whipped around and scurried home, a bashful little smile on her face.
And yet, once she reached her front door, she was rudely slammed again with reality.

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