In a gray house, its walls entwined with ivy vines and surrounded by patches of violet and wild mint, Celine lived with her small family in a quiet neighborhood far from the city's noise. Upstairs, her room overlooked a backyard garden where an old apple tree stood-a tree her father, Marks, had planted on the day she was born. He'd hung a wooden plaque carved with her name on its trunk. She thought of that tree as her silent friend, sometimes talking to it, sometimes sitting beneath its shade to read or draw.
Celine was sixteen, a deep thinker and keen observer, with a passion for books and mysterious stories. Her eyes shone blue like diamonds, and her blonde hair fell halfway down her back. Sometimes she preferred solitude-not out of shyness, but because she had no one to share her moments with. She found a strange joy in quietly watching the world: how leaves trembled in the breeze, how the rain's sound changed as it hit the window glass. Occasionally, she'd sit beside her little sister to play, but not often-because Lilia was a child who loved dolls and childish games, and Celine had outgrown such things.
Lilia, only ten, was like a flower that bloomed out of place-full of life, filling the house with noise and laughter. She played with colors and talked to her dolls as if they were real beings. She'd pin her drawings on the kitchen walls and laugh loudly when pretending to be the school principal, issuing orders into thin air.
As for their parents, their mother Marlene was an engineer who spent most of her time at work. Their father, Marks, seemed calm on the surface but carried a strictness beneath, making decisions no one dared to question. He worked at an insurance company and was often away. When he came home, he'd settle into his black leather chair, quietly reading the newspaper or retreating to his office and shutting the door behind him.
Celine wished they had enough time to be a happy, close-knit family. But with their current lives, they rarely gathered except for breakfast or dinner, and even then, she felt her parents' warmth and attention were lacking. Yet she always noticed something strange: the way Lilia related to their parents wasn't like what she'd seen between other parents and their kids. Yes, they smiled at her, fed her, cared for her-but that care wasn't quite enough for a little girl. They did their duty, but didn't give her all she deserved. Celine wasn't treated much differently, though she received slightly more attention than her younger sister, like being allowed to go out for walks sometimes. She didn't understand why, and maybe she didn't care. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest daughter. But in other families, the youngest-the baby of the family-is usually the one most cared for and spoiled. That made her feel a little odd.
One autumn morning, Celine woke to the sound of raindrops tapping against the windowpane. It was eight o'clock, the sky heavy with clouds, and the scent of wet earth filled the air. She rose reluctantly, slipped on her gray coat, and went downstairs to the kitchen where Marlene was preparing breakfast. Marks sat reading the newspaper as usual, while Lilia tried to imitate an owl's hoot as she ate her cornflakes.
Pouring herself a glass of milk, Celine said, "School's going to be gloomy today... I hate cloudy weather."
Her mother replied with a faint smile, "But rain nourishes the earth, and washes weary souls."
Marks looked up from his paper, glanced at her briefly, and said, "But people don't change with the rain, Marlene."
Breakfast ended with Lilia's laughter as she balanced a spoon on her nose, pretending to be an elephant. Celine left for high school, but her father's cryptic words lingered in her mind. In class, she couldn't focus. It felt as if everyone around her wore masks, their eyes hiding the truth.
When she returned home, she found her mother cleaning the hallway floor, unusually distracted-and she'd come home early from work that day. Celine went to her room, opened the window, and watched a pigeon flutter from one rooftop to another. At half past four, she sat with Lilia watching cartoons before stepping outside to gaze at the sky.
After dinner, the house was still, the clock nearing ten at night. Lilia had fallen asleep on the couch, so Marlene took her to bed. Quiet returned to the house. Celine watched a documentary about lost civilizations, drawn into a world of secrets, strange ruins, and extinct languages. But suddenly, something caught her attention...
To be Continued....