Chapter Two// Thoughts Like a Hurricane- Unedited

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CHAPTER TWO// THOUGHTS LIKE A HURRICANE

She is a strong structure

But the world pounds on her daily

Like a fist.

Beating. Striking. Bruising.

How long will it be

Before the walls that hold her up

Crumble down?

~

HARPER GREYSON RESTS her hand on her daughter’s shoulder as she places the plate of steaming pancakes in front of Eve on the hardwood table. Her thin blonde eyebrows furrow with concern at the back of Eve’s dark hair, remembering how she was cradling that very head only a couple hours before. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Eve watches nauseously as the golden maple syrup runs thickly down the sides of the pancake stack, piling at the bottom and threatening to spill over the edge of the plastic plate. Wincing at the sickening-sweet smell that fills her nostrils, her stomach churns at the thought of eating anything. Appetite has become a foreign mystery since she woke up that morning. “Fine,” she mutters quietly under her breath, hating how her voice slightly quivered as she lies. The last thing she needed this morning was her mom keeping her home from school...again. “Great, actually.” Eve nods, nudging her fluffy pancakes absently with a fork.

Harper’s gentle, green eyes light up– a vast difference from the motherly, worried glances in the dark earlier. Her tentative smile stretches across the entirety of her long, angular face, bringing out a loveliness that is often hidden away behind the headaches of everyday life; a life that contained a child that is not completely normal. “As you should be,” she beams at Eve. “It isn’t everyday you turn seventeen.”

The words twist into Eve like a knife, leaving her breathless. Seventeen, she thinks, breaking away fromt the fragile eye contact with her mother. How many more years will I survive before I end up in some insane asylum for lost causes?

But not wanting Harper’s rare smile to slip, Eve shoves on a new expression; a mask of acceptance when turmoil churns inside. Forcing a strained grin, she says, “Then I suppose we should break out the birthday cake, eh?”

Harper lets out a brief laugh that sounds more like a sigh of relief. As she turns around to put some of the silverware back in the drawer from the dishwasher, a blonde strand of hair slips out of her messy bun that lays in a clump on the back of her neck. “Not yet, my little one.”

Little?” Eve scoffs. “Only a few days ago, you were tearing up because I was ‘all grown up’.” She quotes with her fingers, raising her eyebrows.

“But it’s true. You are all grown up,” Harper says, meeting her daughter’s eyes once again with pride and sentiment. Reaching out an arm, her fingers stop a short inch from caressing her daughter’s pale skin. But as if her delicate touch might threaten Eve’s fragile mood, she immediately drops her hand, clearing her throat. “Anyways, your father took time off his shift tonight to come home early to celebrate with us,” she says. “You know he misses you.”

And I miss him, Eve thinks. Ever since her dad, Robert Greyson, had taken more shifts at the hospital to support the family’s tight medical funds, she hardly sees him like she used too. And when she does happen to catch some time with him, he is tired and bleak; the complete opposite of the lively, vibrant man she used to know. At what point does the money not matter anymore– when it changes a man’s soul?

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⏰ Last updated: May 29, 2014 ⏰

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