Status: coming, gradually.
Vanishing Point
Prologue
Evan
Only the sound of metal on glass filled the huge dining room. There were three chairs separating each person, three in total. Everyone's eyes were concentrated on their plates- not even a glance was passed between the seated. A maid entered and left, each time bringing more refreshments. The food was bright, colorful, and looked like it could model for some fancy food magazine. No meat is to be served and only wine and twice filtered water is to be served.
Father is dressed in his work suit, save the jacket witch is most likely draped over his huge, thrown like chair in his study. He looked very expensive; his short gray hair was full unlike his coworkers who would die just for a comb-over. He is average height, average build, and average looking, minus his bright gray eyes that sparkle even in the darkest of lighting. His mustache was perfectly trimmed and his beard was shaved just enough to show he has one. He has been this way ever since I was a child.
Mom is dressed in her house dress- a solid color jersey dress that stops just above the knee. Her neck is laced with more diamonds than one will ever see in their life. Her wrists are covered in shiny crystals and her ears are dangled with solid gold earrings. Her long, silky, black hair is pulled back in two big twists and finally tied together with a diamond encrusted hair pin. Her eye brows are arched, so that, even when she does not, she always looks like she understands you and knows all of your thoughts and deeds. Her smile is flawless, dazzling, even. She has been this way ever since I was a child.
Then there is me- the tall, slender combination of my mother and father. While I dazzle you with my perfect smile, I hypnotize you with my knowing gray eyes. I have my father's eyebrows, thick and full, but they are arched in a way that denotes my curiosity. I am the colorful one: I tend to talk with my mouth full, dance in the shower, and splash my surroundings. I can make a joke, and lecture someone on the way to administer a business or laugh and still make straight A's. In my eyes, I am nothing like my parents, who eat in silence and live in it. I need color. I need life. These thoughts have been on my mind ever since I was a child.
DJ
Laughter filled everything. There is no running to get away from it, no earplugs that can deafen the sounds of it. The small house lights up at the sound and it only darkens as everyone sleeps. Mom has made a never ending meal of all her specialties which are only things that mom has learned off of the television network. The dinner is one of happiness.
Mom sits at the head of the table. Her eyes are wide, her green gaze nothing but love. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail and medium hoop earrings dangle from each lobe. She is wearing her favorite dress- a yellow floral print dress. She is a caramel color, with high cheek bones and a beautiful smile. Her contentment with even the smallest has bewildered me for all my life. It has been this way since I was a child.
My brother, Tomas, sits the smallest at the table. His eyes are bright, his mouth full and his brain just as full with wonder. He is also a caramel color, his eyes a bright green against his skin. He is a thicker boy, wearing is denim overalls and purple socks, but that has never stopped him from being all over the place. He is the loudest of all of us and is not afraid to show it.
Then there is me, Dario. I sit the tallest at the table with broad shoulders I inherited from my father and green eyes that match every pair that glace over the table. I am also a caramel color, as everyone else, but I don't see myself as everyone else. While we sit at the small, crowded circular table, all I can think of is what it would be like to sit at one of those huge, rectangular tables with the amazing decorations that my mom can only dream of. While we laugh, I wonder how much happier I would be if we could just have enough money so that mom doesn't have to pull all her awkward shifts and come home pink and tired. I could only wish that I can get my hands on some money and pull us our of the barrio. This thoughts have danced across my mind ever since I was a child.
Only the sound of metal on glass filled the huge dining room. There were three chairs separating each person, three in total. Everyone's eyes were concentrated on their plates- not even a glance was passed between the seated. A maid entered and left, each time bringing more refreshments. The food was bright, colorful, and looked like it could model for some fancy food magazine. No meat is to be served and only wine and twice filtered water is to be served.
Father is dressed in his work suit, save the jacket witch is most likely draped over his huge, thrown like chair in his study. He looked very expensive; his short gray hair was full unlike his coworkers who would die just for a comb-over. He is average height, average build, and average looking, minus his bright gray eyes that sparkle even in the darkest of lighting. His mustache was perfectly trimmed and his beard was shaved just enough to show he has one. He has been this way ever since I was a child.
Mom is dressed in her house dress- a solid color jersey dress that stops just above the knee. Her neck is laced with more diamonds than one will ever see in their life. Her wrists are covered in shiny crystals and her ears are dangled with solid gold earrings. Her long, silky, black hair is pulled back in two big twists and finally tied together with a diamond encrusted hair pin. Her eye brows are arched, so that, even when she does not, she always looks like she understands you and knows all of your thoughts and deeds. Her smile is flawless, dazzling, even. She has been this way ever since I was a child.
Then there is me- the tall, slender combination of my mother and father. While I dazzle you with my perfect smile, I hypnotize you with my knowing gray eyes. I have my father's eyebrows, thick and full, but they are arched in a way that denotes my curiosity. I am the colorful one: I tend to talk with my mouth full, dance in the shower, and splash my surroundings. I can make a joke, and lecture someone on the way to administer a business or laugh and still make straight A's. In my eyes, I am nothing like my parents, who eat in silence and live in it. I need color. I need life. These thoughts have been on my mind ever since I was a child.
DJ
Laughter filled everything. There is no running to get away from it, no earplugs that can deafen the sounds of it. The small house lights up at the sound and it only darkens as everyone sleeps. Mom has made a never ending meal of all her specialties which are only things that mom has learned off of the television network. The dinner is one of happiness.
Mom sits at the head of the table. Her eyes are wide, her green gaze nothing but love. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail and medium hoop earrings dangle from each lobe. She is wearing her favorite dress- a yellow floral print dress. She is a caramel color, with high cheek bones and a beautiful smile. Her contentment with even the smallest has bewildered me for all my life. It has been this way since I was a child.
My brother, Tomas, sits the smallest at the table. His eyes are bright, his mouth full and his brain just as full with wonder. He is also a caramel color, his eyes a bright green against his skin. He is a thicker boy, wearing is denim overalls and purple socks, but that has never stopped him from being all over the place. He is the loudest of all of us and is not afraid to show it.
Then there is me, Dario. I sit the tallest at the table with broad shoulders I inherited from my father and green eyes that match every pair that glace over the table. I am also a caramel color, as everyone else, but I don't see myself as everyone else. While we sit at the small, crowded circular table, all I can think of is what it would be like to sit at one of those huge, rectangular tables with the amazing decorations that my mom can only dream of. While we laugh, I wonder how much happier I would be if we could just have enough money so that mom doesn't have to pull all her awkward shifts and come home pink and tired. I could only wish that I can get my hands on some money and pull us our of the barrio. This thoughts have danced across my mind ever since I was a child.