Blank Canvas

Chapter One

Summary: Meet Talia, our main protagonist, and her  two sisters and mother as they gather for a typical breakfast at their home. But Talia sensed something about her sister, Celia.

"Stop staring at me. Don't even deny it. I know you're there." I muttered as I rolled over on the other side of my bed. "I'm still asleep." I pulled on my pillow and used it to cover my drowsy, exhausted face. A pale hint of morning light streamed through my window creating a soft halo around the room.

"If you're asleep, why are you talking?"

Slowly, I opened my eyes and found my little sister, Mia, sitting at the foot of my bed. She is staring at me with her big, dark brown eyes. A knowing look is etched on her innocent face.

"What time is it anyway?"

"It's time for breakfast," she answered in a voice that is too loud and perky.

I forgot that my sister, who turned six years old last month had a different kind of way of figuring time out. She recently learned how to tell time but that was not how she saw it. Or said it. It was not half past six in the morning in her perspective, but it was time for cereal and milk. It was not noon for her, it was Disney Channel time or it was time for crayons. It was not eight in the evening but it was bedtime story time.

"Give me a hug first," I replied sleepily and open my arms wide. Mia crawled next to me and rewarded me with a quick embrace.

Mia pinched my cheek and said, "You'll be late for school, Tally." She was also into the phase of calling everyone like that — Mommy, Daddy, Celly, Tally, Grandpy and Grandmy. "And your breath stinks."

I went downstairs after I finished getting dressed. I was in my usual getup of white cotton shirt, black jeans and sneakers. My older sister, Celia, often labeled my style as "comfortable yet lazy" but I don't care.

My mom was sipping her cup of morning coffee while reading the newspaper as I arrived in the kitchen. Celia was standing next to the island counter, doing squats while pausing every few minutes to drink lemon-infused water. She looked ridiculous but the whole synchronized spectacle was kind of impressive to watch.

Ever since we were kids, we have always been aware of eating well, of getting exercise and of being active. We were not forced to do it or anything like that. We grew up with it. It was the way that our Mom lived.

Once in a while, when I would start feeling sluggish and heavy, I would ride my bike around or go for a short walk just to feel my muscles moving. Nothing too intense though, unlike Celia who often spent three mornings a week doing feverish workout sessions. Also, I still hankered for salt and vinegar chips and rice. Because you're not a true Filipino if you don't eat rice. Starchy, white rice to be specific.

Mom also liked to buy produce that was fresh and free of artificial agents. Anything organic was more expensive but she refused to compromise. As for me, whenever I tagged along to the local market and grocery, I always have this rude awakening that for something that was natural and healthy, good food sure was far from cheap. I get it though. I get the demand and supply, no-chemicals-means-more-labor and crop rotation issues. Prehistoric people were so lucky. They only had to forage, not worry about genetically modified organisms and trans-fat.

As I was saying, Mom was also into yoga and meditation and aromatherapy and massages. Basically, she's a textbook stereotype of a modern bohemian. She also owns a bakery. Her shop makes pastries and desserts that were made of ingredients like chia seeds, all-natural cacao nibs and gluten-free flour.

Any treats that were sugar-free or anything that had almond milk in it were a no from me. I drew the line there. My Mom's business was originally home-based but last year, she decided to put up her first store, which was located about fifteen minutes away from where our house is.