"It is going to rain..." said 15-year-old Ryver Blackwell, as she got her backpack ready for her 1st day of her Sophmore year at Mayvalley High.
"How do you know? The clouds are too thin for rain." her mother Andromeda Blackwell replied incredulously.
"It is going to rain..."Ryver insisted, pulling on her black jacket. 28-year-old Andromeda observed her very pretty 15-year-old daughter, with a gentle, mother's eye. Ryver had very fair skin, dark, extremely long black hair, to her knees infact and extraordinary amber colored eyes. She was petite, about 5'5" and a little over 115. Andromeda knew for an unfortunate fact, that people observed her and her family with a cruel and critical eye.
Ryver looked nothing like Andromeda or Deacon, her husband. Andromeda had delicate new butter colored hair and soft conflower blue eyes along with light peach skin,the perfect woman, for the perfect man; who was of course, Deacon. Deacon had fire red hair, grass green eyes and wonderfully tanned skin. Ryver took no notice in the difference between her, Deacon, and Andromeda. Not like she really cared anyways. She loved her parents and even though she wasn't the Golden Child that most people thought she should be, Deacon and Andromeda loved her back. Deacon Blake heard his two loved ones talking in the kitchen and sidled in slowly, as to be sneaky.
"Good morning Deacon." Ryver said monotonously.
Deacon flinched.
"Curse you Ryver! How the hell do you notice me?" Deacon asked exasperatedly.
".....You breathe loud Deacon." Ryver answered simply as she took a sip of her orange juice.
"Damnit....Ryver when will you start calling me Father?" Deacon asked kindy, giving her a smile.
".....It is going to rain."
~*~