You stared blankly at the teacher in front of you. Her words were beginning to slur together in your mind. You let out a sigh as you tap absent mindedly against your desk with your pencil. She was talking about transitive verbs or something like that. You didn’t care. English was an easy class anyways. You take quick glance down at your note pad. Scribbles of amorphous shapes that’d look like nothing to the untrained eye. But to an artist like you...well they still looked like a bunch of blobs, but they were actually just little doodles you were sketching out of extremely basic sketch poses. You would sketch out dozens of them in each period whenever you thought the teacher wasn’t looking. You wanted to try and find a good pose to draw your mother in so you could get a decent pencil sketch down before you actually start the painting process. Though the first one you drew up was consistently proving itself to be your favorite, even though it was just a copy of the photo you found. And honestly, it wasn’t giving you an easy time. It was just so good! The lighting, the pose, the absolute joy on your mom’s face playing for a crowd! It was a fantastic photo! A fantastic photo that still felt...weird to look at. You never really got to know your mom. From what you’ve heard, everyone seemed to like her, so there wouldn’t be any doubt you would too. There was this mystery that surrounded her. Who was this woman? What was her side of things? It’s weird. You never knew the woman. Hell, Stella had been your mom for your entire life. You loved her but it was clear from even a young age that she was never the one who gave birth to you. Outside of the obvious species divide, your younger sibling took after Stella in many ways. Though unfortunately not in manners or kindness. You two just had differences. You never did like the idea of learning French, something Cynthia picked up really quickly. You eventually dropped it though and joined your dad among the monolinguals in the house hold. But with this woman? This Lucy? She looked and, probably, sounded like you. An artist just like you. You just wanted to know more. It’s almost as if… *DING-DONG BING-BONG* The school bell snapped you out of your inner reflecting as students were beginning to pack up their books and papers and engage in small talk. ”Now remember kids! You all have to finish chapters four and five by the end of the week! Have a nice lunch!” Sighing in relief you shove your materials not so gracefully in your bag and sling it over your shoulder as you get up. Fucking finally, you were starving. You made a bee line out of the class room and swerved down the hall way with a stride in your step. Stopping only momentarily at the billboard. You hadn’t actually written your name down on the sheet to enter the contest. Glancing over the various announcements from clubs and facualty and posters you find it and grab at the pencil handing from a string to write down your name. ”Oooooh. What’s this?” Your grip tightens and you accidentally scrawl out a long jagged line at the last letter of your name. God in heaven not now… You look behind your shoulder and at your half sister. “What?” You spit the question out with annoyance. ”I’m just wondering what you’re signing up for. You don’t typically sign up for extra curriculars.” You consider for a second whether or not you should actually tell her what you’re doing. It was bound to come up soon anyway, plus she could just, read the paper you signed when you got out of the way. “The art contest. I’m signing up for it.” ”Oh! So you’re actually going to enter it after all?” “Yea, I am. Why do you care?” ”Well you seemed to not be interested in it Friday night sis.” She said with a smug grin. You turn around and cross your arms. “Well, I changed my mind.” The green gremlin nodded her head. ”I see. What will you be painting anyways? Another ‘lovely scene’ of the Bluffs like almost every student tries to enter?” “What do you care? Are you going to try and insult me again?” Cynthia sighs and roles her eyes. ”Amber, I told you I apologized for that, didn’t I?” “I know mom and dad just TOLD you to do it. We both know you didn’t WANT to!” ”I still DID though didn’t I?” She quipped back. “GUH! What ever. You can find out when everyone else does, how about that? Look I’m hungry, I’m going to lunch. See ya at home.” You turn away and storm off, leaving the oriental obsessed freak in your dust. … ”And then my brother, oh my God, Amby, he takes DeShawn’s dirty sweaty laundry and fucking dumps it all over me. Stinky pre-teen sweat and...I don’t even wanna know what else, ALL OVER ME AND MY BED. Just to wake me up!” You snicker at Sera’s recounting of her morning as you bite into your sandwich. She sighs and places her hand on her forehead. ”Honestly, thank GOD your parents are so sweet and have me over basically every weekend. I don’t know how I’d survive living with those two gremlins 24/7.” You shrug. “They’re just kids.” Sera scoffs. ”Oh, just kids huh? Amby, you KNOW, how siblings can be. Imagine Cynthia...but a BOY, and then multiply that times two!” You cringe at that thought. “Yea...yea I can see your point. Boy or not though I don’t think that’d change anything about the smell.” Sera, who was taking a drink of her soda, almost chokes, having to spit it out on her tray from laughing. ”Pff...AHAHAHAHAHA! Girl, you ain’t wrong.” “He he, yea, I know...speaking of. I bumped into her on the way here.” Your friend’s eyes perked up. ”Oh! Any trouble.” You put your sandwich down and rub your forehead. “Ugh...Not really. But, she caught me signing up for the contest.” ”Oh! Did she say anything?” You shook your head. “She only asked what I was gonna paint.” ”Oh yea? And what was her reaction?” “I didn’t even tell her. Told her that she’d find out when everyone else in the school will. I don’t need her talking shit about a painting that’s personal to me.” Sera places a hand on yours and gives you a serious look. ”Hey. If she says anything, and I do mean ANYTHING, she’ll have to worry about my lavender ass shoving one of those figurines she loves so much up her ass.” You snicker at the thought. Would probably be the most action that girl will ever get in her life. ”No, Amby, I’m serious. You know I got your back.” You give your friend a small smile of appreciation. “Yea, I know. Thanks Sera.” **DING-DONG BING-BONG** Shit. Scarfing down your sandwich, you quickly get up and throw away your trash, waving bye to Sera as you quickly speed walk to your next period. … Breath in. Breath out. You relax as you let the sounds of the board walk calm your nerves. The soft wind and waves beating against the rocks bring you a serenity that you seldom get anywhere else. Opening your eyes you take in the beauty of the setting sun over the horizon. Feeling ready, you place your headphones on and start your usual playlist. This was a place you always came to just to get away from it all. It’s your place, and despite the radiant beauty, especially at this time of day, no one was usually here. The park was behind you, there was a food stand not too far away, and the bench you sat on didn’t even have too much bird poop on it. You kick your leg up on your knee and lean back. Opening your sketchbook you start to draw some more refined sketches of the ones you drew in school earlier. The lead of your pencil glides across the page in long strokes. Simple geometry eventually giving way to more stylized forms. Not too stylized though, these were simple constructions. Your mind was blooming at this point. It’s why you loved coming here so much. School was too much stress what with the work and the prying eyes of teachers and students alike. Home life was...well yea. And even on the weekends, Sera, as much as you liked having her around, could cause grief what with her constant oogling at your father. None of that was here though. You were alone, at a scenic location, and it gave you time to breathe. Chances to draw and sketch without the stress of life getting in the way. Speaking of your art, you found an alternate sketch you really liked. Might as well add some detail in to make it actually look like your mom. You pulled out your phone and opened your gallery. For the sake of convenience you had taken a picture of every page of the album. Still didn’t have a chance to really look through it. Just kinda flipped through each page and took a quick picture. You didn’t want such precious memories being misplaced or stolen by bringing it out in public. Swiping through the images on your phone you finally found an image that was good enough to reference and set the phone to the side. Where to start? Her beak you suppose. It was a defining shape. You pteros were kind of known for them second to your wings. Ah yea, the wings too. Man, your mom had very elegant wings. You wonder what she looked like under a black light. Did she have the same patterns as you? You remember when dad first showed you the intricate patterns that existed all over your body. The sheer shock and awe you were in left you speechless. You’d sit in the bathroom for hours and just look over your wings and arms for HOURS! Every ptero has a different pattern. Like finger prints for humans just prettier to look at and less boring. You had stars go down your arm. You wonder what your mom had. Oh! Yea, arms. Specifically, the feathers on them. Nothing to really say about them. Though drawing them really made your brain think about your own elbow feathers...and how itchy they were getting trapped on your long sleeve under shirt. Grunting, you pull your sleeves back to free them, letting the cool breeze carry away the stuffy heat getting trapped between your feathers. Much better. Moving on, let’s see. You had the snoot down. Then the wings and feathers. Ah! Hair. Her hair was much longer than yours. It seemed to reach to the middle of her back, just below her wing joints you’d guess. You absent mindedly moved your hands through your own shoulder length hair. You’ve had it this short for...well basically your entire life. Maybe you should let it grow out? Just as you finish the hair on your sketch you look for another detail to add in. Oh yea. Her make up. You weren’t adding color so you’d just have to rely on difference in how dark you make it around the eyes to do justice. And her make up was...well, eccentric. It didn’t look bad though. It seemed to fit her very well. You never used make up like that. The most you’d use is probably some eyeliner? Maybe some lipstick if you REALLY wanted to get fancy. (Not that you had lips but you know what I mean.) Perhaps you could stand to use a bit more make up. If she could pull it off why couldn’t you? It brought out her eyes very well. Her eyes…,They looked just like yours. Hell if it weren’t for the make up and hair you’d swear you were looking in the mirror. Same orange irises, same diamond shaped pupil. You sat there for a moment looking deep into the image. That’s when you noticed this...feeling. A strange feeling in your chest. Or perhaps it was the lack of a feeling? You couldn’t say for sure, you didn’t really know what it was but it was just...confusing you. Was it sadness? You really didn’t feel sad. What about...anger? No. You felt that on almost a daily basis with your sister around. You really couldn’t say what you were feeling was positive. But you didn’t down about anything really. In fact you felt pretty calm and neutral right now. There was just this strange feeling in your chest. A strange feeling you just couldn’t find a word for. You began to flip through the photos in your phone, having completely forgotten about your sketch at this point. You were too transfixed on this person. You knew her name. She gave birth to you. You knew her interests, in so far as what other family members have said she was interested in. She married your dad. But...she’s gone now. Who was Lucy Mous? Who was this woman? In the middle of your investigation into the photos of your mother, your phone begins to buzz and a notification blocks the image you were looking at. ”DAD is calling…” Oh, SHIT! What time was it? You look up to see the sun had long gone down. You sweat under your breath and push the ANSWER button. “H-hello?!” ”Amber? Hey, sweet tooth you alright?” “Yea, yea dad I’m fine I’m just at the board walk.” ”You know what I’ve told you about staying out after the street lights come on.” “Yea I know, sorry, I was just uh...distracted with drawing.” ”Well, it’s getting late and your mom is almost done with dinner. It’s about time you start making your way home.” “Alright dad, yep, on my way.” ”Good. And hurry, your food is going to be cold if you don’t get here.” “Yes sir, understood. I’m walking to the bus stop now.” ”Alright, see you soon, love you.” “Yep, love you too, bye.” You hang up and groan in frustration. Fuck. You really hope you wouldn’t be getting an earfull of this after dinner. You close your sketch book and shove it into your back pack before getting up and rushing your way towards the nearest bus stop. You’ll just have to finish this sketch at home. [POST-NOTES] Thanks for reading! I'd really like it if you guys gave feed back since this is all still being written and almost complete. I'm in the middle of chapter 11 right now actually.