Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace

A little girl, no more than ten, ran wildly through the fallen November leaves. She was screaming shrilly, making her older sister cringe. Crunchy leaves were tangled in her dark brown hair, a vibrant smile lined her already full lips, brightening her entire face. She was different in comparsion to her sister, Maple. They shared the same pale, chalky skin inherited from their mother, but the similaries ended there. Maple was fair, with blonde short, bob-like hair cut, bright blue eyes, and dark freckles that marked her nose, cheeks, forehead and ears. Willow was almost an exact opposite. She had long, almost waist length, dark chocolate brown hair, not one freckle, mud colored eyes and full pink lips. Even at ten, Willow had the grace of a much older child, much more than her clumsy twelve year old sister. They weren't even alike in the personality department. Maple was much more quiet, calm, level headed and kept to herself. Willow was a rambucious, wild and untamed. She never held her tongue, and did what she wanted, even if it meant being grounded later.

"Girls! Time to come in!" Their mother, Maple's carbon copy (only with brown eyes) shouted from the stoop of their apartment complex.

"Race you!" Willow scrambled up from the pile of leaves she collected, and took off. Maple rolled her eyes, and just walked to the door. Her sister was immature sometimes.

Willow reached her mother in only a couple of seconds. "You won!" Fawn praised her youngest daughter. She, of course, knew where her erratic behavior came from.

"What's for dinner?" Willow didn't greet her, food was always on the front of her brain. She moved to the door, she never waited for them. They walked too slow.

"Left overs." Willow pulled a face, but walked into the shabby building. They lived on the third floor, so Fawn didn't like them walking the whole way up the stairs by themselves. The door to their apartment was unlocked, so she let herself in and plopped down on the couch. She ached to turn the tv on, but her mom had strict rules when it came to the tv. Only 1 hour a day, and never before dinner. They didn't even have a computer, because Fawn watched all those programs on internet predators.

Willow never understood her mother's rules, and need for perfection. She was strict with everything. Organic food, no meats, organic cleaning supplies, they always had to look nice, and keep their rooms cleaned, Fawn liked to have complete control. Willow liked to think she was more like her father. He died a little bit after she was born, a plane accident took his life. Willow glanced over at the picture of her parents. She didn't look anything like him. She could see Maple's kind eyes, and freckles in him. His thin lips were up turned into a smirk. He had a buzz cut, but his sandy hair was noticable.

The door creaked open, and Willow immediately focussed her attention else where. Mom always got weird when Willow would ask questions about her father. Maple went straight to the kitchen (after she quickly rolled her eyes at the leaves still peaking out of her sister's hair) and began to set the table. Willow down right refused to set the table, or do dishes. She said it was a Mommy job, not a daughter job. So instead, she dusted the apartment and vaccumed. Willow crinkled her nose at the smell of dinner. Tofu. Organic. Gross.

"Mom, can't we just have pizza?" Willow whined. She was disgusted by the food her mother made. All healthy, no meat, no flavor.

"No, it's bad for you." That was always her excuse. Maple nodded along with her mother, she loved the stuff. She was the good child, the one who always followed the rules. "Go clean up your room while I finish dinner. And get those leaves out of your hair."

Willow rolled her eyes heavily, and trudged off before her mother could comment on her rudeness. Willow sank down into her bed. Their room didn't need cleaned. Maple had cleaned it that morning. She picked the leaves from her hair, wishing for a different life. A mother who was more like her, and didn't make nasty food for dinner. A father, he didn't even have to be like her, just a dad.