Short story - Tegan

Tegan looked at the bird. It chirped merrily. Then it flew away.

Tegan was a girl of about twelve, with dark hair and intense green eyes. Anyone looking at her would think, “What a pretty flower of a girl!” But in truth, there was more to her inside. She lived in a quiet roadside shack. Her father worked hard in the tall, shiny buildings opposite, but he never made quite enough money to rent a house. They had managed to build a small little hut on the sidewalk backed up by a dark green fence, but Tegan didn’t know if they could ‘manage’ any more.

She had a younger sister of ten, named Ariel, who, like their mother, had cinnamon-colored curls and green eyes. They had constructed a small swing by themselves beside the makeshift hut, and they swung on it every day.

                                                                     ~*~

Tegan woke up. Light streamed through a hole and fell on her creamy-pale face, warming it. She threw aside the rags and got out of her little nook. Ariel was sleeping in front of her, opposite the nook, her hair resting on her rosy cheeks.

Tegan ran outside to the swing and climbed on. Her hair billowed out in the air and her expression carried a thing quite rare in her face – joy.

Ariel came running after ten minutes. She stared at Tegan. Tegan didn’t know she was there. Ariel knew that joy on Tegan’s face was joy in itself – Tegan barely even smiled, usually. She watched her carefully, swinging back and forth.  “Tegan,” she murmured, and Tegan stopped, skidding to a halt. “Ariel!” she squealed. Suddenly, the ground underneath them crumbled, and Tegan and Ariel fell down at once, clutching at each other…