“You’re not going to be alone, do you hear me?” His voice is supple. She couldn’t pinpoint the panic that is clearly portrayed through his eyes. Those piercing green orbs. Her own unfathomable brown eyes gaze into his. Watch as his pupils constrict and dilate. Watch as his irises shift about the whites in a frenzy. Scanning her round face. Making sure his words had gotten through.
Very slowly, the young girl nods, her unnaturally red hair bouncing atop her thin shoulders. Her dry lips part just the slightest, as though she were ready to speak. But, her father pulls her into a hug, smothering the words into his chest. And the two stand there for what feels like a consoling eternity. Her father, on his knees to be closer to her height, powerful arms wound tightly round her petite frame. At the age of 11, she was smaller than most children. But probably tougher.
This time, he whispers his words. He picks them carefully. And exhales them delicately, “My beautiful Rumoure. Please make sure you - please just. . . you must stand together. Do you understand me?” He pulls away, but grasps onto her arms, just at the elbows. She could feel the quivering of his long fingers. The fingers that were always typing away on a computer as he worked. She could see the tears brimming his eyes. Glisten against the sliver of moonlight. The dark circles around each optic seemed to become heavier. She knew these had been from restless nights. What was about to happen has been a plan for days now.
Finally, she manages to let her voice break free, as well as her own water works. “I understand papa.” There’s a subtle crack. A faint show of distress. Something she had been wanting to hide. And she could feel herself get lifted off her feet. And placed on the boat, along with over a dozen other children, either much younger or older than herself.
And as the boat is released from its restraints, it begins to drift away from shore. One of the older kids makes their way through a door, to the controls. And Rumoure watches as her family, the families of all the children, stand huddled together. Crying and waving. And then very gradually. . . dispersing into the night. Disappearing. And Rumoure is almost taken off her feet as the boat gives a kick as it picks up speed. And for a second, she thinks about jumping off. But when she glances around at the other children who sob, she knows she must stay strong for them. She must keep them safe.
Location: Unknown Island. Off maps. Closest mainland area would be California.
Her eyes flutter open as morning sunlight streams through. She squints against the rays, and turns her head against the pillow to gaze at the window. She must have left it open last night. It had gotten way too hot in her room. And Rumoure never did well with extreme humidity. Cupping a hand over her eyes, she sits up in bed and arches her back whilst she stretches. Lethargically, she pulls herself out of bed, her sheets and comforter tossed about. She hadn’t gotten comfortable last night during the heat wave, and ended up throwing everything that had been on top of her wherever.
The bottoms of Rumoure’s small feet stick against the glossy wooden flooring as she moves across her all-white room and into the hallway. She could hear the pitter patter of children running around, but couldn’t see due to still holding a hand over her eyes. But, she knows her way around the house, even when blinded. And Rumoure enters the nearest bathroom and closes the door behind her with the heel of her foot. She flicks on a light and removes her hand from its place on her face, and gazes at herself in the mirror. She flashes herself a grin, which turns into a sneer as she realizes she hadn’t brushed her teeth last night. It had been an interesting night.
Darius, one of the eldest of the “island dwellers” (as she has come to call all of them) – at the age of 21, had bought several cases of liquor. There aren’t any stores on the island. There’s nothing on the island except all of them. All of the kids who had been shipped away and have grown up to call this place home. But, it had been Darius’ shift yesterday. And by shift, that means the one who gets to go off to the mainland and buy more supplies. Darius hadn’t gone alone, no way. No one trusted him to go alone. He and Odelia, whom is 19, had gone together. Odelia is at least more responsible, and she ended up buying clothes for all of them, as well as plenty of food to last another week. Darius’ alcohol didn’t go to waste, though. The older ones all spent a night together as the children slept. Most of the older ones. Serenity and Andrew – the oldest out of everyone at the ages of 23, didn’t. Rumoure didn’t blame them, though. The two have a kid, a kid who has always had problems with sleeping. Little Roderick. Nearing five years old. The only child to have been born, so far, on the island.
After completing her business and applying her daily dosage of make up, Rumoure exits the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready for her day.
She walks through the large house with an extra hop in her step. She knew some of the others, such as Darius, wouldn’t be too pleased about their morning. . . or day. Rumoure only had one small drink. Some of the others went all out and could barely make it back to their rooms. But with a smile on her face, Rumoure trails down a flight of stairs and into the kitchen, her sense of smell instantly assaulted by the powerful aroma of breakfast.
And she didn’t expect none other than Serenity to be cooking a hearty breakfast, which would be more than enough for everyone within the house.
In a way, Serenity had taken the role of mother for everyone, not only acting the part for her actual child. And, of course, Andrew had taken the role as a father. Not everyone considered each other a family, though. There were several of the teens throughout the house that were in budding relationships, or had feelings for one another. But, there’s nothing wrong with that, seeing as not all of them are related. There are only several within the house who actually have a sibling or two. And Rumoure is one of those who does not.
Rumoure takes a look around, spotting several people already taking their place in the dining room. But, she didn’t see Andrew anywhere. He was probably busy waking up some of the others. But, Rumoure does spot Roderick stumbling sleepily into the kitchen and over to his mother.
Rumoure could feel Serenity’s eyes rest on her, and the two exchange a smile. Then, Serenity’s attention falls to her son, and she sets aside a spatula to pick him up. He was always a smaller boy. But incredibly smart for his age. Wasn’t surprising considering his parents are brilliant people as well. But, he was also quiet, and doesn’t speak much around anyone else in the house besides his parents. In a way, Rumoure felt sorry for him. She didn’t think anyone should be reproducing on the island. . . not when trouble could appear any given day. Yet, they all tried to live life without a worry. And Rumoure tries to roll with it to the best of her ability.
Giving Serenity and Roderick a chipper, “Good morning~”, Rumoure makes her way into the dining room to try and find out who all is currently awake.
Rumoure’s gaze moves about the dining room. It’s an open space that is the room next to the kitchen – which can be entered through an open arched doorway. In the center is a long table, where it’s rare to see everyone sitting at the same time. For the first year the kids ate together like they were some big family, but that tradition slowly faded after the second casualty. There have only been two deaths, the first was a little girl during their first week at the island. She was no more than a year old, bitten by some sort of spider. The second was a boy, during the fourth month. He was 14, and had gone missing. Later found dead in the nearby waters. He had killed himself. Most likely because he was one of the few who had fully understood their reasoning for being here, at the island.
The government is after them. They had first gone after their parents. Why? Because they aren’t human. They are aliens. Every child on the island is only half, though. One of their parents is full blooded. Rumoure didn’t really know the story, but Serenity did. And she had informed all of the children. They weren’t given any major details, like what their true species is or the name of a home planet. Just that they aren’t like other people on Earth. And that there are bad people in the world who feel the need to capture them. For questioning. At least that’s what she had heard her father mutter one night before the plan took action. The parents didn’t even know what would become of their kids if the government got hold of them. Half-human-half-alien creatures. Quite the anomaly. But what Rumoure always wondered if they had any superhuman abilities? Maybe they haven’t been tapped into yet? Otherwise. . . what’s so overly special about any of them?
Rumoure is forced away from her thoughts as something hits the side of her face. She releases a quiet “Ouch”, and rubs the aching spot. She then hears a quiet thud, and looks down to see a fresh pear hit the floor. Her attention drifts to the side, and she scowls at the one who had thrown it.
“It’s one thing to be wasting food, but another to be throwing it at people Clara,” she scolds the teen. Clara is 14 years old, and probably one of the feistiest of the children on the island.
They’ve been on the island for nearly 8 years now, meaning Clara was only 6 when they had to leave their parents behind. She hadn’t cried. When Rumoure thinks about it, she hasn’t seen Clara shed a single tear. In a way, Rumoure felt. . . jealous.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Clara retorts, sitting straight in her chair at the table. “Edwin smacked my hand and made me let go!” Her arms fold over her chest.
Edwin, who sits beside Clara, looks at the girl in shock, “I did not!” he swiftly whips his head towards Rumoure, “I swear Rumoure! I didn’t hit her!” he shakes his head repeatedly. Edwin is 12. A bit of a scaredy cat, he does know how to stand up for himself when the time comes. Though, he’s also known for being a tattle tale around the house.
“Just don’t let it happen again,” Rumoure gives a roll of her eyes.
“Can do!” Edwin salutes, a smile replacing his previously frightened visage.
Clara snorts, sinking back in her chair in defeat, and continues to grumble something to herself. Rumoure sighs as she once more rubs the spot that had been hit, knowing that a bruise would be forming very quickly, if not already.
Rumoure could already tell today would be a long day.