one sunny day...

prologue to the novel i'm TRYING to write :O

Mabel was 4 when she found the bestest friend she’d keep forever and ever.
Raven was 5 when she found someone akin to a younger sibling to protect and play with.

Mabel was 5 when she had to wait impatiently for Raven to come back from school.
Raven was 6 when she found school was fun, but being with Mabel was much better.

Mabel was 6 when she could finally board the big yellow bus that Raven rode everyday to school.
Raven was 7 when she had someone to teach new things to—for the first time.

Mabel was 7 when she proudly told anyone who listened—and everyone who didn’t—that school was an amazing place, where she had ever so many best friends.
Raven was 8 when she lost her rose-coloured glasses—and saw black in the world.

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Mabel Morley || Raven Dicarse
Some stories change when different people tell them.

Mabel was 8 when her laugh was a joyous sound that turned heads and forced smiles.

The girls were sitting under a tall tree, not a soul aside from them in sight. Sunlight, warm and bright and cheery, just like her, threw dancing patches of energetic brightness on the leaf-covered ground.

“Rave, did Casey really say that?” Mabel was grinning up at the older, a halo of curly brown hair obscuring her eyes.

“Yes, and then the teacher quite literally turned red! The whole class laughed so much, a boy from the next room came in and demanded to know why we decided to die all together,” Raven had dark hair to match her name, neatly tied back into the ponytail she always wore, except at school. She smiled right back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Mabel didn’t notice, the sunlight was too bright.
Mabel laughed again, her small head nearly banging the tree behind them.

“Careful! Your mom will kill me if I bring you home with a big red bump on your head, and I quite like my life, thank you very much.”

Mabel looked up at Raven. The girl spoke with much too confidence for a nine-year old—her articulation was one the younger always thought belonged to adults. But Raven wasn’t just any nine-year old, she was Mabel’s Raven. Mabel’s very own child grown-up friend, and she wasn’t complaining about the older’s vocabulary.

Raven smiled a very real smile. “What happened to my best friend’s never stopping tongue? Did I blow you away with my limited vocabulary?”

Mabel treated her words with the disregard Raven expected of a four-year old. “Can we get pizza?”

“Well,” the older began. “I’m not entirely sure I have the authority and the money to buy you a pizza, but we can ask your mom! Come on, let’s go find her.”

“Yay! Raaave, you’re so slow, come onnnn!” Mabel really was just eight.

Raven pushed up from the ground, brushing her clothes down. She smiled at Mabel running circles around her, and then frowned.

“Bambi, wait. I think there’s a bug on you.”

Mabel skidded to a stop, child-like fear evident in her big brown eyes. “Eww! Get it off!”

Raven flicked away the bug like it was another useless worry.

“Let’s go now,” she said, nothing but warmth in her tone.

They walked across the field, hand in hand, towards a potential promise—pizza, warm from the oven, and completely covered in cheese.

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Mabel Morley || Raven Dicarse
Some stories change when different people tell them.

Raven was 9 when black and white started morphing into grey.

The girls were sitting under a tall tree, the only souls out on the sunny day. Sunshine, still warm and bright, danced through the leaves and threw shadows on the ground.

Raven wondered when Mabel would start noticing the shadows—if she ever did.

The older related what was supposed to have happened in the classroom. In reality, those words were hollow, a reminder of things that weren’t to be. Raven concocted stories that reflected worlds she wanted to stay in, worlds where Mabel belonged, worlds that were slipping away from her like sand sifted through her fingers.

This particular one was a world where she wasn’t the odd one. Where she was included in her classroom. Where Casey existed, her only friend aside from Mabel.
It shouldn’t matter that Casey was fake, and Mabel was too bubbly to see shadows.

Mabel was laughing hard, head thrown back and, oh no, nearly hitting the bark behind the girls.

Raven’s word of warning came out, sharp and concerned, and slipped into the past, like every bad thing did around Mabel.

Things in the past shouldn’t matter either.
But Raven knew. She knew the past shaped the present, knew that the past was more important than it let on. She knew.

Mabel was staring up at Raven, with her big brown eyes open wide, in the abstract forgotten-the-world way children do. Raven looked back, at the person who’d somehow become the central theme to her world. Bright sunshine that kept away the shadows—until the sun set.

Raven forgot the shadows and smiled. “What happened to my best friend’s never stopping tongue? Did I blow you away with my limited vocabulary?”

Mabel answered with a question of her own. Apparently, eight-year olds never gave straight answers. “Can we get pizza?”

“Well,” Raven fought back a smile. “I’m not entirely sure I have the authority and the money to buy you a pizza, but we can ask your mom! Come on, let’s go find her.”

“Yay! Raaave, you’re so slow, come onnnn!” Mabel was up before the sentence was completed.

Raven stood and brushed off the grass from her clothes. She smiled at Mabel running circles around her, and then frowned.

“Bambi, wait. I think there’s a bug on you.”

Mabel stopped suddenly, completely frozen in place. “Eww! Get it off!”

Raven hated bugs with a passion, but this was only a small one. She flicked it off, resisting the urge to cringe or turn away.

“Let’s go now.” Mabel didn’t know Raven disliked bugs, but it was okay.

They walked across the field, hand in hand, towards a potential promise—pizza, warm from the oven, and completely covered cheese that pulled as far back as their friendship did.