Looking at the ceiling of my room always made me feel nostalgic. A gift from my childhood to remind me of Dad, a mural of a warm red sun at the center, sending rays of oranges and yellows across the entire canvas, contrasting the midnight purple walls filled with posters covering the white splotches making abstract stars.

I was only six when he painted it. I feared the dark and didn’t want to sleep in my own room. At first, I hated the entirety of it. But then he started telling me stories every night. He would make a star afterword that would dry while I was asleep only to glow the next night. By the time I wasn’t scared anymore, I had four hundred small dots all over the walls that softly illuminated.

We slowly added other things along the walls over the years. Swirl patterns, an abstract fox made of dots and faint lines, dragons and giants. We even put shelves in that I filled to the brim with a collection of anime figures. Postures with dark backgrounds and pastel colors practically drowned the left wall while my bed sat mostly against the wall directly connecting it.

The door left ajar, wasn’t centered but stuck in a corner opposite of the bed’s own. There was no tv, but there was an L-shaped desk in the middle of the wall the bed met with I dubbed my poster wall. While I wasn’t exactly big into streaming like Heather, Mom insisted I have the whole set up. Three monitors, a pc rig that looked ripped straight out of a cyber punk comic—slapped with the same stickers that covered my laptop—and some Rode mic that was way more expensive than I care to know since it went hardly used.

Lastly for my “elite” set up, as Sam kindly put it to all his friends, enough RGB lights to make my desk, the wall in front of it, and the floor surrounding it, look like a rave party. So, I happily made my own nebula of sparkling pastel stars surrounded by a constant glow of purple to match the walls.

Climbing out of bed was a pain, the fleece tights I wore, making me even comfier already, were as black as the hard wood floor I managed to convince Mom was a good idea. Everything on the floor had its own rug, pad in the case of the desk, and my bed happened to be a collection of cute plushie characters, fuzzy blankets and a veritable mountain of pillows. A deathtrap of comfort that made leaving feel like I was neglecting relaxation every time.

The only other feature in my room was the wall with the door and the two black out curtain windows that gave a view of the mountains all around sitting opposite. A bookshelf filled with figures and topped with a cat bed for Trixie, sat to the left when facing the door, pressed up against the poster wall of games and anime art.

Directly next to it was the door to the closet, the perks of a big house in the middle of a clearing, you have even bigger rooms even if everything is connected to three different hallways.

The ceiling isn’t too high, though ten whole feet of vertical clearance is a lot in my opinion, it makes for a whacky soundscape in the lounging room. It did make the closet in my room rather convenient, however. A wide room filled with hanging clothes and a dresser with underwear and other necessities for a northerner as well as a modest shoe rack.

Sandwiched between the door to the hallway and my closet was a large cobalt blue makeup dresser accented with gold trimming and screws, a matching chair sat in front of it.

On my way out of the room, I couldn’t help but glare at my own reflection in the standing mirror right next to the dresser. Bed head and I haven’t even slept. With a frustrated sigh, I sat on the hardwood chair and took out a brush.

My hair is by no means the longest. Heather has me beat there. Undoing the ponytail and getting to work on the mess of black hair with bright red tips, it wouldn’t take too long. Letting the strands fall down my front and onto the modest C cup chest as I finished, caused a grumble of indignation at how much work I try to put into my perfection.

White skin with a slight tan from lazing on the patio, contrasted with pretty much all my peers who were either pale or some other range of too tan or chocolate. Being known as the angsty-tan babe-book worm who beat the shit out of some muscle brained idiot for flirting carries a reputation apparently. Definitely not the other thing.

My eyes, the outlier for our family, grey with a ring of blue on the inside, always look sharp. One of the factors that I came third in some dumb school vote for most attractive when I first joined as a freshman. All with an angular face, small nose, slightly narrowed eyes, framed by silky black hair and bangs. I wouldn’t call my lips plush, but neither were they thin.

Standing a little over five-seven, a figure that fit the small eater I was and low effort I put into working out, and you get me. Slightly thicker than average thighs, a belly that says I could eat more if I wanted or lose it if I ran every day, and an average chest size. The color I dye my hair’s tips and highlight my bangs changes every so often, red being this year’s color, black being the base color I have had since I was allowed to dye my hair.

Something about ash-brown just didn’t suit me like it did dad and Sam. Heather got lucky to have Mom’s darker brown coloration of hair, only being seventeen, a year younger than me, and a lot peppier, made herself quite the popular streamer.

Even after Dad’s death, she still streamed everything from gaming to reading. As much as I screamed about it the month it happened, we both handled it differently. Anger has always been a problem for me, and she never truly feels safe to show her real face to anyone.

The cold mirror in front of me brought a little clarity back as I began to tread never truly healed wounds. Resting my head against the last gift I had gotten from Dad always did that. Sparing a glance down at the golden inlaid center of the desk, a sparrow was in flight. Underneath, words I had read over and over, and cried about every night for seven months, resonated with me.

“Fly free my little sparrow. The world is big and scary, but I will always be there. Remember that every star comes with a story, and all our hearts guide us to the center of the galaxy. So fly free and have a grand tale of adventure told in the universal weave.”

That same day he snuck off during our vacation to Florida and had this made along with two other large wooden constructions. One present for each of his kids. Later that night he had a heart attack. Cardiac Sarcoma. He didn’t even make it through the month.

With a deep sigh, angrily rubbing at the tears that dared make themselves known on my perfect face, I took a deep breath and stared myself in the eyes again. “Chin up Bea. Tomorrow is the first day of school. The last year you have to make it through. Musical arts won’t be as socially draining as high school is. Then you might be able to score a girl—” and sadly as I was prepping myself up, Heather had to burst into my room gasping.

Not that me being gay was any kind of surprise or shock to the family. In fact, I never had a chance to worry about if I would be accepted like some online novels I read or some of my classmates. By age ten, my mom practically pointed out that I blushed too much around pretty girls. Discovering that the reason I felt my cheeks warm up when I was around my friends was because of embarrassment and not having a fever was a weight lifted off my shoulders.

All I could do in response to my sister was sigh as she fully entered the room and pointed at me animatedly with the smuggest of grins, “You did break up with Nina! Is that why you sulked on the Patio all weekend? Don’t answer, I know it’s the truth”.

Of course, I could only gape a bit at how excited my sister was about my supposed break up, which yes but it was mutual, and it was only because she was testing the waters. Wringing my hands a little under the desk, imagining it was heather’s neck helped my mood but after maybe a minute of staring at her outstretched pointing finger, a grunt was all I dignified to respond with and gracefully stood up and turned my back to her so I could at least act like I had something more important to do.

“Don’t pretend it was mutual either! She was a total bitch. You just thought it would be fun to mess with the poor straight girl who just got out of a bad relationship. I can see it all over you, the hoodie Dad bought you during last music festival, the flannel skirt and fleece tights. Over stressing about hair and your posture that screams you were disappointed. You— “

“Agh, shut up damnit!” After freezing for the first sentence, I could only get so angry before I had enough. Turning and shooting her a glare I was sure would have scared poor Sammy had he been in here, I only received a smirk in response.

“There it is,” the smugness never ceased from Heather. Entertainer at heart but an agonizingly aggressive little sister, she never left enough as is. Perfect or nothing was how she lived and damn all those who don’t accept or fix their flaws. If it wasn’t for Dad, a clash of egos would have happened years ago.

And it is thanks to Mom we both want to do entertainment. Riding on the wave of video making, Lisa Yuu made millions. There she met the love of her life, Colt Newman, an electrical engineer and also the reason a lot of motherboards surpassed their twenty-ten versions. Retired, Mom practically taught the two of us how to game before either of us could read the keys we were typing with.

Heather, the streamer and Beatrix, the musical genius. A title our family had taken to calling us when we both branched out into our respective interests. A lame representation but a representation non the less.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are upset she dumped you, but it was probably you who just gave up when it looked like she wasn’t interesting anymore,” the noxious amount of enjoyment she got from making me annoyed probably would have made me gag if it had a scent. Deciding I was better than her wouldn’t have helped anything either.

Clicking my tongue in frustration was all I managed to do without screaming at her smug face. So I walked past the nuisance who happened to be a chest size bigger she loved to flaunt around. “Not that you are any better. Can’t even bother to give two fucks about the last guy or girl you probably mercilessly played with,” hardly a grumble and more of a growl was about the tone I took to respond, but it was always a losing battle when using words with Heather.

I only heard three tongue clicks, the girl’s normal head shake and shame method when she disagrees, but I was gone before she even started, leaving her to yell “Hey!” and come after me.

“Says you, who has seduced an entire quarter of the school’s female population and dated half of our class alone. Bet you will practically pounce on the new kids this year only to stop because you are bored”.

“Oh eat a bag of di—"

“BEATRIX!” and just like that, our squabble had reached the end of the hallway and into the lounging room. Where Mom just glared at me, and I could only offer a sigh and shrug while Heather practically glowed with victory.

Three wings made up the house with the south being slightly different. The west wing, where my room and Heather’s were right across from another. A bathroom on either side of the hall for both rooms positioned near the entrance of the hall. Somewhere in the middle was another door that was technically just a large room, but dad and I turned it into an entire recording studio filled with instruments.

At the end of that hall led to our current place, the large lounge room. The house took rooms and an open plan concept only to say yes and nothing else. A kitchen shoved in a corner, with a bar and drink station opposing it. A dining table sitting twelve was positioned somewhere in the middle of that. In the center of the room was a half-circle island that got turned into a place of plush couches facing a large tv to the south, bar and kitchen behind it. The entire room was set up with surround sound. The large chamber making movies really impressive to watch.

The south of the house, and between the kitchen and bar, was the door leading to the patio. A patio that had giant mountains surrounded by the forest and a great view of the valley. Summer mornings will always be magical. It is one of the reasons the patio is my favorite part of the house. Mom said it was Gran’s too, but she died before I was even born so all we kids get are second hand memories.

East wing brings you to an almost identical set of rooms as the west, the only difference being the walls colored a vibrant orange and the ceiling being blue. The floors except for my room were also all the same, bleached soft wood floors. The wood almost matching Dad’s hair was Mom’s idea and looking at it had always made the three of us laugh or crack jokes about it.

Finally, the Northern wing was a bit different. Four doors branching off to the laundry room, Mom’s office, the “workout” room, and the door that led to the basement. A dusty old place with ancient ventilation packed full of this and that. All attempts to clean it have been met with failure as neither of us girls could bother doing so and Dad always put it off until it was too late. Sam will probably be the basement’s last hope.

Right at the end of the hall, the greeting room and exit sat behind the door made for privacy. All around the house were gardens.

House aside, just looking at Mom give up on scolding me for however many times now about language was a small victory. Of course, she only scolds me because Sammy practically looks at me like an idol. Speaking of the little snot, he’s just sitting at the dining table munching on pizza, no surprises there, while petting Trixie. A house cat that is almost as big as the boy himself.

It just so happened that I had a soft spot for both of them, much like Heather, and couldn’t help but walk up and begin rubbing her fluffy belly. A coat of fur as black as it is soft, extremely. Another of Dad’s great ideas and even she had been affected greatly by his passing. We are lucky she started to eat again after putting her bed in my room.

Grabbing two slices of the large pizza, I sat down and began to eat while trying not to think about Nina and how she just wasn’t the one. I might have an ego problem but seducing half our class and destroying their hearts wasn’t really my plan. Years I have been looking for a girl that probably doesn’t even exist. Someone who repeatedly haunts my past but can never remember fully. This year is the final one I will be looking for her. It was a promise I made to Dad. The only one who knew I was looking for someone at all.

I’m not wholly innocent though. While none of the girls I’ve kissed, dated, and upset, were the ones, I have grown to have fun with them. Nina really was nasty though. As bad as I feel for her about what happened with her last boyfriend, pretending to be curious about being gay to collect evidence on me wasn’t fun to find out. Not that I cared much about her doing it, she practically melted after the third session of being pinned to the wall and ma—.

Once again, I had to sigh as my thoughts went back to my recent ex. I couldn’t exactly just hand her off to someone else after she was “tamed”, the girl got three months of my attention alone after all. So I did her a favor. I tapered off the attention and though she begged, a month later I ended up being dumped last Friday. Horrible, sure. But she learned her lesson and is probably going to become a healthy lesbian to some other more compatible girl.

Glancing at Sam who was probably on his fifth slice of pizza while I worked on my second, Heather having joined at some point on the other side of Sammy and Trixie, and Mom who was on her phone on the couch quiet like she always was now. Deciding it would do nobody any favors if I stuck around, my anger having driven a wedge firmly between even Mom and I, the slice was gone in a few bites.

Dad was the only one who really kept everyone together. He taught me how to box my anger out, Heather how to draw and do makeup so she can express herself without dropping the mask, and little Sam how to just be a kid. Even Mom was no amazing person alone. Strict isn’t the word that I would use for her, but she has a problem listening to other people. Dad was the only one who ever truly got her to see other people’s sides of an argument.

Without him, while we still deal with all of our problems the same, I can’t take how controlling Mom is. Heather is obnoxious because she doesn’t know how else to express her words and feelings, but even I have my limits. And Sam is an incident waiting to happen. No dad, two egotistical sisters, and a mom who struggles to be empathetic with others. And more than once have I listened to him sobbing alone in his room with Trixie. The kid is tough and is trying to fill the void Dad left, but I can see he doesn’t understand why it’s not working.

I smiled at Sam and rubbed his head before like every night prior, I went to the bathroom to clean up. The heated tiled floor always a joy and the room a peaceful place to relax. The colors dark and cartoonish characters covering every wall. Then, as routine would dictate, it would be off to bed after taking sleep aids for the nightmares.

But I decided not to take them tonight. I felt oddly good about tomorrow, even if I was anxious about not being able to find her before I graduated. Soaking in the bath always gave me terrible ideas. Thirty minutes later, I was in my palace of a bed and comfort, snuggling into as many soft things as possible. As everything began to fade to black, the red sparrow was the last thought I managed to hold onto. And how much it reminded me of Dad’s stories.

FluffyGamma

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