Read Always Summer Online

Authors: Criss Copp

Always Summer

 

 

Always
Summer

Criss
Copp

 

Kindle Edition

 

Copyright 2012 by C.E. Copp

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only.
 
This ebook remains the
copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and
distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without the express
written consent of the author; with the exception of the use of short excerpts
quoted in reviews of this ebook.

Dedication
 

For my incredible family:

Mum, Dad, Chris, Pippa, Tallowyn, Patrick, Emily, Holly and
Sharlene...

For giving me the space and encouragement to follow through
with seeing one of my stories in print... finally!

Chapter 1
 

Sally.

Beautiful...

She was
simply the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes on... she owned me...
my heart, my breath and my life.
 
Summer
giggled as I sprayed her hair with the glitter hairspray.

“That
tastes funny!” Summer spat, then grinned, showing the gap where her two front
teeth had once been, but had recently been pushed out by a barely emerging new
set of teeth.

“So, close
your mouth and stop trying to eat it!” I laughed back at her, giving her a
light slap on her bottom.

A cheeky
grin spread across her face and she gave me ‘that look’; a look that melted my
insides every time.

Summer is
my sister, she’s six.
 
At ten years old,
I am four years older than her, but I might as well be twenty years older than
her.
 
She’s mine; has been mine since our
crack whore mother walked back in the door of our dilapidated, two bedroom,
dive of an apartment; after leaving me alone for a week to fend for
myself.
 
I named her, I dressed her, I
fed her, I begged for money for her, and I stole for her.
 
All her needs have always and will always be
taken care of by me, while our ‘mother’ takes care of herself with her
disgusting men, booze and drugs.

Purple
suits her.
 
Mrs. Prince, one floor down,
collects material.
 
All sorts of
material, and she has been doing it since material was practically invented, I
mean she’s got to be like a hundred years old.
 
She’s got to have hoarded bear skins and stuff like that too, from a
time before material was invented, but I don’t like to dig too far into her
stash.
 
Mrs. Prince doesn’t tolerate
children very well, but she seems to tolerate me, and of course Summer.
 
She lent me the material... but even though I
have cut it and molded it to fit Summer; so she can participate in her
Halloween parade at school, looking like a fairy, albeit a ragged, torn fairy;
the material still has to be returned later.
 
The makeup that I lifted from Marjorie, our ‘mother’, needs returning
too, before she wakes for the day and notices it missing.

“Twirl for
me chicken.” I ask
Summer
.
 
She twirls.
 

The dust
specks fly through the air, accompanied by the sparkles from the
hairspray.
 
They are caught twinkling in
their merry dance by the slip of morning sunshine, which darts in through the
gap in the torn and yellowed curtains, hanging from above the dirty window in
our room.
 
I stand up on the bed and pull
the curtains aside, in order to allow in more sunshine to highlight my giggling
little girl, as she shimmies and jumps around on the floor, twisting and
twirling and giggling.

“Magic!”
she squeals, “Look Sal... look at the magic floating around me!”

I can’t
help but feel an intense warmth burn me in my chest.
 
Summer slows down, and quietly moves her hand
through the dust and sparkles, letting them bump and move against her
touch.
 
I sit on the bed and watch her,
enthralled by my girl.
 
She looks up
through her long lashes and grins, but stays silent, as do I.
 
She begins to grab handfuls of the ‘magic’,
and shuffles over to me.
 
She reaches out
and begins to plaster my face and neck with her hands.
 
I don’t move.

“What are
you doing, Chicken?” I ask quietly, and without any other movement.

“Giving you
the magic,” she whispers.
 
She goes back
to grab more, returning to rake her little hands through my hair.
 
Luckily I have already brushed it this
morning; otherwise it may have caused me to flinch when she hit a snag.

Again and
again, she returns to grab more magic, and gives it to me.
 
I let her.
 
We have so little joy in our lives, except for each other, that it would
be heartbreaking to deny her gift for me.

When
Summer
has finished, she puts her hands on either side of my
face and kisses my eyes.
 
Leaning back to
look at me, she nods her head before crawling into my lap and putting my arms
around her for me.

I don’t
want to move, but neither do I want to stay in the apartment any longer than I
absolutely have to.

“Scoot up
Summer
; I want to have another look at you before
breakfast.” I tell her.

Summer sits
up at first and looks me dead in the eyes from close range, forehead to
forehead, and then she decides to remove herself entirely from my lap to stand
in front of me, like a mannequin in a shop window, displaying an outfit.

Her hair is
a mousy light brown, long and straight.
 
Although right now it is teased beyond belief, and sticking up
everywhere. Her eyes are a light hazel, almost a golden brown like honey, with
flecks of sea green, and there is a beautiful dark ring on the edge of the
color, bordering up against the white.
 
Her skin is pale, and a smattering of freckles span across her
nose.
 
The pink and purple shades I have
used on her eyes make her look ethereal... she looks amazing.

“You look
like you belong in the movies.” I say, smiling and poking her on the nose before
leading her out to the kitchen to prepare her something to eat.

“That’s
because you made me up.” She answers, skipping along, although quietly, since
she too knows not to be loud at home – not to draw attention to herself.

Looking in
the fridge I see cans of beer, some more that say bourbon, and cask wine.
 
Scooting them aside, up the back I can see
the small carton of milk I stole from the gas station around the corner
yesterday.
 
I pull it out past the
decaying leftovers and booze, and place it in front of
Summer
.
 
Going into the cupboard, I pull out the
cereal that is under the sink behind all the dangerous chemical stuff.
 
Once I have poured cereal in a bowl, and then
drenched it in milk, I hand the food to
Summer
along
with the remaining milk in the little carton.
 
She knows to eat all the food and drink all the milk.
 
I, on the other hand, will shove my hand in
the cereal and grab a handful of dry breakfast, once the coast is clear and we
can leave the apartment undetected.

Leaving
Summer
to her breakfast, I make my way to Marjorie’s room
quietly; peeking through the slightly ajar door to be sure she is still
asleep.
 
Her latest man is there too, and
I definitely do not want to disturb him.
 
I don’t even know his name... Marjorie calls him ‘babe’.
 
He’s been slouching here for nearly two
weeks.
 
I don’t like the way he smells,
looks, or for that matter, glances at my
Summer
and
me.
 
I creep into the room, open the top
draw and slowly lower the makeup back inside.
 
I quickly glance at the naked couple.
 
He is right next to me, lying on his back, mouth wide open, a hard penis
stands to attention, despite his sleep... yuck!
 
His sandy colored hair is tousled and his face is scruffy and bearded
with reddish hair. Marjorie is on her stomach.
 
She has blond hair, but it’s fake blond.
 
I know she really does have blond hair, because her pubic hair is blond,
but the hair on her head is nearly white, and the roots are dirty in
comparison.
 
Of course her blue eyes are
closed and her mouth is open in drunken sleep too.
 
I am safe, so I turn to leave.

“Like what
you see?” a gruff voice asks.

Always on
alert, I high-tail it out of there, not looking back; he remains chuckling
behind me.
 
The hair on the back of my
neck is standing to attention.
 
My
stomach churns, and not from hunger, from fear.
 
I reach into my bedroom; grab the two school bags and race back to
Summer
.

“Come on,
we really have to go!” I urgently tell her.

To
Summer’s
credit, she simply leaves her unfinished breakfast,
grabs the carton and runs to the door.
 
She knows not to argue or question, no matter how hungry she may be.

We live in
Rochester, in an area known as Lyell Avenue (because Lyell Avenue is the main
road running through it) and we go to the elementary school on Plymouth
Avenue.
 
We like school... Summer has
recently started 1st grade, while I have begun 5th grade.
 
This morning we’ll be a little early if we
walk straight to school, and I don’t like to be early, since the mean kids tend
to hang around looking for trouble both before and after school.
 
So, we walk the long way to school, talking
to each other about what to expect with the day and trying to avoid any
unwanted attention.
 
It is pretty easy to
blend in around here.
 
I have quite dark
mocha colored skin, complimenting my dark brown, curly hair and really dark
brown eyes.
 
And although
Summer
and I don’t look like we are related, there is quite
a bit of diversity in this area, so we don’t look wrong either.
 
I like that.

*

I get to
watch
Summer
parade in her outfit at school when the
parade is held.
 
I haven’t participated
myself, never have; but I gain great satisfaction in watching her navigate
through the crowd.
 
She has a couple of
friends in her class, and they are all talking animatedly and looking excitedly
at the other costumes.
 
She is
beaming.
 
Her gapped toothy grin is
hilarious.
 
I have decided we will stay
at the library again today... until it closes.

*

We stay at
the library often.
 
In fact, the joke
between the staff is that we live there.
 
Mrs. Hubert, the librarian, says that we are ‘enlightened’.
 
She is always stashing books she knows I
might like away for me to read.
 
But we
don’t borrow, we never borrow.
 
We just
read and spend time there, leaving our current reads behind the desk for
subsequent afternoons.
 
Marjorie wouldn’t
know where to find us, and this is good.
 
If I were to start bringing books home and someone discovered them (like
her or her whores), then we’d have less places to hide.
 
Not that she cares anyhow.

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