The End of Innocence: Book 3 of the Kinstone series

I leave town and head up the main road back up into the mountains. The sky again had grown darker, meaning the storm was going to hit sooner than I thought. I pick up the pace, pedaling harder up the hill.

I turn off of the road and up onto the trail leading to the house. With sky being so dark I stop for a moment and pull out a head-mounted flashlight, something I bought when I started riding to school. I slip it over my head and flip it on. Its intense light easily cuts through the darkness, guiding me the rest of the way home. I pedal on, making my way through the woods.

I finally come upon my house and ride up to the garage, hopping off once I came to the back stoop. I open the side door and slip my bike inside, locking the door behind me.

I round the house and leap up onto the porch, an accomplishment I was able to achieve during the summer of eighth grade. I reach into my bag and pull out my key, unlocking and opening the door. I walk inside and flip on the lights.

I sidestep to the couch and drape my bag onto and pick up the remote that Marron had left on the table and turned on the TV in the living room. I needed something to help fill the emptiness of the house so I could make dinner for us.

It wasn’t terribly often I got to have the house all to myself for any extended period of time. There would be a few times out of the month when my sister would head to Cleveland to pick up a few supplies for the boutique. This mostly was on the weekends and I’d be left to watch the house until she got back later in the evening.

I walk into the kitchen and browse the fridge. We had pasta last night so I doubt she’d want it again. I knelt down and found a package of pork steaks. I snap my fingers and open the pantry, finding a few cans of soup.

Mom taught me how to make a really simple rice dish that really was popular with dad and me. I’d often make it if needed something quick and easy to make. I pull out from the fridge a bushel of carrots and a head of broccoli. The rice needed an hour to cook so that was first on my list. With the pork, I could throw in a few minutes before my sister got home.

An hour passed and everything was nearly ready. The veggies steamed over the stove with some garlic and pepper. The rice I pulled from the oven and placed on the stove to cool. Then in went the pork, seasoned with steak seasoning and some Worcestershire sauce. That I broiled.

I lean on the counter, feeling my back decompress. It felt good hearing the spine pop. Outside the sky really started to grow darker, and not only due to the wall of trees that surround the house. I rest up against the counter, and fold my arms, waiting.

Bright lights soon fill the kitchen windows, signaling that Marron is finally home. I walk over to the oven and open it, hearing the pork steaks sizzle loudly. I smile, carefully pulling them out and placing the broiling pan onto the stove, closing the oven door and shutting it off. A moment later the backdoor opened, listening to the blinds bang against the window.

“Hey sis.”

“Hey sweetie, sorry about being a tad late. Carla Reynolds stopped by needing a last-minute alteration.”

I look over to her, “You’re fine. In fact I just pulled out the pork steaks.”

She smiles walking over to me, placing her bag onto the counter, and wrapping her arms around me, “I have the best little sister in the world.” I giggle, leaning my head back into her chest.

She places a kiss on top of my head, giving me a tight squeeze before letting go and steps over to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of tea.

“School go all right today? No issues with classes or teachers?”

I nod, placing the steaks onto plates and scooping us each some rice and veggies, “Chem went by fast, geometry was…there, we started the Civil War in history, movie in art, and Mrs. Alberton assigned us another book to read.”

“Uh-oh, knowing you it’s something you’re going to hate,” she said, pouring us each a glass.

I groan, “Who in their right mind reads anything from Thomas Hydens?” putting our plates onto the table.

“The guy seriously just pumps out book after book and none of them have any semblance of a gripping narrative, decent characters, or flowing wordplay. But…Alberton consistently assigns him. This is like the fourth book she’s had us read from him this semester,” finally plopping myself into my chair.

She walks over and sits across from me, “I don’t know, sweetie. But you still have to do the work for her, which means reading it.”

I roll my eyes, “I know, I know. Just hoping English 3 isn’t as boring as 2.”

She smiles, picking up her fork and knife, “You’ll get there. Just have to be patient,” and started to slice into her food. I sigh, doing the same.

The television plays on in the background, listening to the sound of the game wheel spinning around. “So the Civil War huh? Dad would’ve loved sitting in on that.”

I grin, stuffing a carrot into my mouth, “I still have notes from one of his lectures,” swallowing it, “thinking of taking them with to show my teacher.”

She peers up at me, “Don’t go overboard during the lessons. You have to remember that you’re in a high school classroom, not a college lecture hall. So your teacher won’t be as detailed as Dad was.”

I bob my head, “I know,” placing the knife down onto my plate, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I miss him, and Mom. Still do.”

She reaches over and holds my hand, “I know you do, so do I. However…there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret taking you in.”

I look up at her and smile, “Same here, Sis.”

She grins, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb. We stare at each other for a moment, ignoring the cheers from the television. She then pats my hand and leans back, digging back into her meal. I smile, doing the same.

We finish dinner and begin putting away our dishes, placing the leftovers into the fridge. I turn and open the pantry, scouring for something sweet, “So other than Mrs. Reynolds showing up, how was work?”

Marron sits the last plate into the dishwasher before shutting off the facet, “Did well, four alterations, three custom orders, even one for an Easter wedding dress.”

I look at her, “That’s pretty good for a Wednesday.”

She grins, scooping some coffee grounds into a filter and places it into the coffeemaker, “I’d have to agree. Though I suspect coming late next month is when the prom orders are going to be flooding in, and given how large your senior class is this year, I might have to consider hiring on a couple temps just to manage the chaos.”

I giggle, finding a box of frosted oatmeal cookies, “You’ll get through it.”

She chuckles and turns, leaning against the counter, “I always do. Oh, going back to school, done any of your homework?”

I pop open the box and dig out a cookie, “Did my geometry while at the coffee shop. Chem has a yet another report, but we probably won’t start on that until Friday.”

I toss the cookie, watching her catch it, “Art, like I said, watched a video, so nothing there. And history has nothing. Probably do a quiz or something next week. My teacher still wants to enroll me in AP in the fall.”

She bites into the cookie, “Take the class, it’ll be good for college.”

I pull out another cookie, biting a chunk out of it, “Definitely planning on it, could use a good challenge.”

She shakes her head, “Are you saying that getting though high school isn’t a challenge in of itself?”

I smirk, plucking another cookie, “More like ‘surviving’ it. Really hate the drama and smugness of the seniors.”

She leans forward, “Hey, you’re going to be one of those ‘smug’ seniors in less than two years, so I wouldn’t go around decrying them right now.”

I cock my head at her, “I’ll never be like them.”

She chuckles, “Why don’t you go ahead and head upstairs to drop off your stuff? I’ll be waiting for you down here.”

I place the box onto the counter and walk past her, “So what to watch tonight?”

She folds her arms, “Not sure, could always find a movie or something.”

I tilt my head back, “That’s always a plan,” looking to her, “No cheap romance ones, you know I hate chick flicks.”

She chuckles, “But you are a chick, you silly nut.” I stick my tongue out at her and disappear up the stairs.

I open the door to my room and plop my bag onto the bed, watching its contents spill out. I flip on the desk lamp and listen to the tree branches scrape against the window. The sky has really gotten dark, even seeing the faint flash of lightning.

Thunderstorms here in the mountains can get pretty bad. Mostly tons of rain, with some heavy wind, though the chances of landslides are thankfully next to nil due to how heavily forested the area is. But it never means we should ever be complacent.

Last summer we got hit with a string of really nasty storms which flooded one of the main roads into town. It took work crews over a couple days to clear out some of the debris. It scared Marron because it happened just a quarter mile from the entrance to our driveway.

I lean onto my desk, watching the storm clouds slowly roll in. I personally love thunderstorms, the sound of rumbling thunder, the flash of lightning as it streaks across the sky, the sound of rain pelting the roof. It often served as a lullaby for me.

After our parents died, it was one of the first things that helped me through the pain. That and having a doting older sister.

I turn and look over to my bed, seeing textbooks and notebooks strewn about. My eyes train onto the pair of tiny envelopes. I walk over to my bed and pick them up. I turn them over, not seeing any names on them.

I shake my head, just more prom invites, tossing them into the garbage can by the desk. I got into the habit of not reading anything I found in my locker.

Part of it was because one of the notes I discovered back in October contained porno picks, with my head plastered on it. I ripped it up and threw it away. So I just toss everything I find away. I turn and leave my room, heading back downstairs.

Marron had already curled up onto the large L-shaped couch, and sipping coffee, her shoes lying on the floor in front of her. I round the couch and pull off my jacket, dropping it a couple spots over.

She smiles, patting her lap. I instinctively crawl in between her legs, to where she wraps her arms and legs around me, holding me against her chest. This is our preferred position at night. Just resting up against each other and watching TV.

When I first started living with her, she used hold me in her lap, that was until I started getting bigger, not by much mind you. Compared to her I am still a shrimp. I cling to my sister, feeling her chest rise and fall against my back.

I love her so much, and couldn’t possibly imagine my life without her in it. Her clothes still smell of the gentle cleaners she uses in her store. This had always been something I used to relax after a long day. It was also something I always associated with her.

I melt into her body as she scrolls through the endless list of movies until finding one and started it. I stare into the TV, letting my mind wander off.

I feel a soft nudging against my shoulder, “You fell asleep sweetie, and it’s already past 10:00.”

I open an eye and gaze up at her. I’m now laying chest first on the couch, face pressed into the cloth cushions. I push off of the couch, letting out a soft yawn.

She grins, “Maybe I should put little cat ears and a tail on you. I think you’d look cute in them.”

I glare at her, “Do it and die.”

She bursts into laughter, pulling me up, “I think you should head onto bed if you’re this tired.”

I yawn once more, nodding, “Okay,” standing up and walking to the stairs.

She sneaks up behind and wraps her arms around me, holding me close to her. “I love you my baby sister, no matter what happens. Just know that I do.”

I smile, holding onto her, “I love you too Marron, always and forever.”

She leans over and kisses my cheek, “Thank you. Now off to bed with you.” I giggle, heading up the stairs.

I walk back into my room and close the door behind me. Rain batters against the window. I gather up my stuff from the bed and place it onto the desk. I sit on the edge of the bed and gaze around my room.

A couple bookcases line the wall, each filled with novels and notebooks from Dad. I also kept some of the textbooks from his collection along with a few from Mom. I didn’t care for posters, finding them distracting at times.

I let out yawn another yawn and stand up, walking over to my closet, and stripped. I pull off my shirt and undid my bra, tossing both into the hamper. Laundry day was Saturday, and it was my turn to do it this week.

I open my closet and pluck my night shirt off a hanger, just something long and comfortable to wear at night. I slip it over my head and took off my jeans, folding them and hanging them up to air out.

I reach over to grab a hair bag. I started using one after seventh grade when I decided to just grow my hair out. It made sleeping at night easier without fear of it tugging on me if I were to toss and turn at night. I slip my hair into the bag, and tie the straps, and close my closet door.

I walk back over to the bed and pull the covers. I have a nice full-size bed, filled with stuffed animals and a couple frilly pillows. I turn and flip off my desk lamp.

The sky then brightened as a lightning bolt streaked across the sky. I peer down to see a pair of blue eyes staring up at me from under a tree in the front yard. Curious, I lean forward to try and get a better look at whatever they belonged to.

Amidst the pouring rain that streamed down my window, I barely make out the faint image of some sort of animal. I tilt my head, finally realizing that I’m staring at a fox. But it looks unlike anything I had ever seen before. Its head was slightly more angular than the local species, and the body is slightly bigger. It’s too dark to see the color of its fur.

It continues to stare up at me, its eyes muddled by the water. I gaze down at it, questioning why a fox had decided to show up here. One obvious reason is the rain, but it didn’t seem affected by it if not bother at all. It then turns and disappears into the woods by the house.

I stand there for a moment, still wondering what that was. I lean back and blink a few times, before stepping back and crawling into my bed, pulling the covers over me. The sound of rain pelting my window persisted to echo into the room.

I lay there, playing through the day’s events, and thinking back on that fox. It was looking right at me, but why? I shook my head and closed my eyes. Right now I want sleep and have school in the morning. I nestle myself amongst my sheets and covers, letting them surround me like a cocoon, quickly finding myself drift away.