Note: I wrote this story a few months before I started Lucia. I had intended it to be part of a larger book, a novella that told Lucia's story from Avani's point of view. The cover I posted above was an original I had made with my sister Hunter. Lucia's previous cover had been done in a similar style. At the beginning of this selection, Avani considers running away from her arguing parents. This story takes place in February. Enjoy!

I paced around my bedroom, the soft pink rug tickling my feet as I stepped. I kicked a pile of jeans out of the way, ignoring the sharp pain in my toe. I could run to Lucia's house or Isabelle's. Maybe even Lincoln's. Anywhere except here. I kicked another pile, watching as the clothes landed lifelessly to the ground. I wondered how many clothes I would have to pack. I had tons of leggings and tops, but what about winter items?

I stomped over to my drawer and yanked out a yellow sweatshirt half hanging out of a drawer. The bumblebees dancing around the shirt were drawn by my mother. I had complained about the yellow being too tasteless for my liking. When I went to bed that night, I found the sweater decorated with bumblebees and draped over my stuffed animals.

My stuffed animals. How was I supposed to survive without their cute little eyes protecting me as I slept? My heart would just sink to the pits of doom. I sighed and jammed a bright pink horse into my cinch bag.

"Don't let any thoughts of loneliness pass through your mind," I said to the toy, "you are now in my wings."

I turned around and began cramming the clothes scattered around the floor into my bag. As I tried to squeeze my shirts in, I realized my bag was too small.

"My light is sinking lower with each passing moment," I mumbled. A moment of triumph wavered through my head. We were learning about metaphors in school and I had just used two metaphors in a row.

I gazed around the room, wondering where any bigger bags could be found. The living room. Being very careful to tiptoe, I made my way to the door through the scattered clothing. I opened it even quieter than Santa probably could, then snuck out. My mom was probably visiting the downstairs neighbors and Dad had left as soon as the blood was spilled. It was unusual for my parents to fight, but when they do...

I tiptoed across the living room, glad the checkered carpet muffled my footsteps. I stepped into the dining room on the right and was surprised to see my mom's coat still hanging on a chair. I frowned. It was unlike my mother to forget something as important as a coat, especially on a cold February day. I peered out the window on my left. I didn't see her anywhere outside, so that was good. Hopefully, her big heart would keep her warm.

I kept walking past the dining room chairs and into the cold, tiled floor of the kitchen. The fridge door was filled with calendars my mom liked to collect. January still wasn't changed for some of them. The small kitchen table was cluttered with mail, some lying on the floor. Each passing moment just confused me even more. Everything was so hurriedly done this morning. If anything, I was the messiest person. My mind shifted from trying to escape to what was happening to my mom. And when had we gotten so much mail?

The front door opened with a loud bang and my mom strode into the living room. She wasn't wearing a coat and her dark skin was lighter than usual. Her eyes were puffy and a small trickle of a waterfall slid down her cheeks.

"Hey, Avani," she choked out in Tamil. "We're going to get your dad. "

I raised an eyebrow, slowly sliding into the dining room. I replied in the same language. I liked speaking Tamil. My parents had grown up speaking the tongue and decided to teach it to me when I was born. "Where is his friendly glow?"

"Avani, what did I tell you about using metaphors? Just get your coat on, we're leaving." She glared at me and pointed to my coat on the sofa. It was unlike my mom to get angry at me for using metaphors. Usually, she would laugh and smile.

I nodded and skittered into the room. I grabbed my coat and threw it on.

"Hurry up!" she urged in Tamil. "We have to go now."

My dad must be in a really bad place if my mom was urging me this forcefully. I flung open the door and stepped into the chilly air.

A large blanket of snow covered the once green lawn. Little flakes of snow still fell from the gray sky and the pathway my dad worked on so hard to shovel, was once again covered with a light layer.

"I can shovel when we get back," I offered in Tamil, feeling bad my dad's attempts at clearing the path were already disappearing.

"It'll be too late when we get back," my mom replied in the same language, shaking her head.

Too late? Where was my dad? My mom nudged me towards the small parking lot on the side of the apartment. The parking lot wasn't as covered as the walkway, but I still yearned to pick up a shovel and fix the mistake that had happened. The snow was supposed to stay out of the pavement. That was the whole reason my dad went out early this morning.

I saw the car parked at the edge of the lot, speckled with snow. The parts not covered with snow shone through with a silver light, a diamond in the rough.

"Get in the car," my mom ordered.

I approached the car and pulled on the snow covered door handle. The cold sent shivers up my spine and my bare fingers were already starting to feel numb. I stepped into the car, glad it was slightly warmer. "I was getting so chilly out there," I murmured to myself. I closed the door behind me, my fingers tingling from the sudden warm temperature. I buckled myself in, the cold strap pressed against me.

My mom came into the car from the other side. She slid in and started it up. Soon we were backing out, creating tracks in the parking lot snow. I watched as our tan apartment disappeared from view. Buchtton was a very small town, but the streets could still be confusing.

We took a right onto Jordan Street. Brightly colored shops shown under the mounds of snow stacked on top of their umbrella roofs. It was summer frozen in time. I saw a familiar girl coming out of one of the shops, heavily garmented. Her blonde hair shone bright against the dark brown complexion of her skin.

"Hey, mom, that's Bridget," I exclaimed in Tamil. I pointed to where I saw my classmate.

"Nice," my mom said without looking. I sighed and watched as Bridget went out of view.

My thoughts changed back to my father. We were already halfway across Southeast Buchtton and we still hadn't stopped to pick him up. I glared at the icy pond which glinted mysteriously in the late morning light. The houses around the pond stood up like trees in a barren field.

Finally, my mom took a right onto Pumpkin Street and we were driving out of town towards Sandwich. It was like we were going to Boston. We sometimes went during the summer, but most of the time we stayed in Buchtton. It was hard to leave such a cozy town.

"Prepare yourself, it's a long ride," my mom said from the front. A long ride? Were we going to Boston?

My dad had been at home last night, but then again, I hadn't seen him since he shoveled this morning. I blinked as the sun glared at me through the window. All the usually comforting glow did was remind me how much longer we had to travel.

My own light began to sink. The creative thinking from this morning was starting to wane and I began seeing a new image, one of my dad shuffling around Boston with no map, lost in the great city.

"Is dad lost?" I asked, forgetting to translate to Tamil.

My mom didn't reply. She kept her eyes on the road the whole way there.

An hour and ten minutes later, Boston finally appeared into view. Tall mountains of buildings scratched the sky hungrily, each betting to be the highest. Soon we were inside the city, watching the buildings sway high above the car. I was surprised by how busy the streets were, even though it was snowy. I guess the snow wasn't too bad, but In Buchtton, snow means no roads.

My mom weaved in and out of buildings. It was like she making her way to some big destination where my dad would be the prize. Smiling, I imagined his confused face lighting up when we parked right next to him.

I peered out the window and watched as people did an assortment of activities on the sidewalks. Some shoveled, others walked with a coffee in hand, and even more were strolling around looking for the best shop. It reminded me of a magnified Buchtton. More people and more roads.

The car jerked sideways and came to a stop in an empty parking spot.

"Nearly didn't make it," my mom said. She didn't speak Tamil which usually meant she was in a very good mood. That's strange, I thought, considering she was angry at me just for asking questions. My mom began finger brushing her long, black hair while looking at the rear-view mirror. I sighed, Dad was by his lonesome and Mom was checking her hair. I tapped the back of her seat.

"Let's go save Dad," I said in English. "The sun won't be on our side forever."

My mom looked back at me, an eyebrow raised, but didn't say anything. We stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. She clasped my hand tightly and headed to the right.

I'd expected people to be staring at us like we were aliens, but I wasn't disappointed they weren't. My mom seemed to know exactly where she was heading. She pulled me down shady corners and crowd-filled sidewalks. We walked through big crosswalks and small alleys. By the time she stopped, I had lost any idea where we were.

In front of us sat a square building with an apartment system plopped right on top of it. The windows were lined with a jade green. SAMMY'S DINER was written in big block letters on the glass. I looked at Mom.

"Is dad here?" I asked in Tamil. I took a quick glance inside to see if his familiar face waited inside. Instead, all I saw were people eating brunch with their families and talking pleasantly with each other. I wished I was them.

I peered down the street to see if my dad was meandering towards us. No sign of him. Only straight-faced pedestrians, scurrying around the streets to find their destination.

My mom took out her pink iPhone and began typing.

"Hello, Avani."

I whipped around to see who had spoken to me in Kannada. It was my dad. He came out from behind my mom causing her to jump slightly in surprise, but she returned his greeting with a smile. I ran over to him and gave him one of the biggest bear hugs ever. If giving the largest hug was a record to beat, I probably went past it times three.

I released my dad and looked at my mom, swaying slightly from the happiness glowing inside of me. She smiled back at me. "Avani, how about you go sit in the waiting chairs inside."

I raised my arms in annoyance. "I won't do anything to blot out the light in your hearts!"

My dad gave a little snort.

I glared at him. "Please, Mommy?" I pleaded to stay out, speaking in Tamil to make her proud.

"Inside now." She pointed at the glass door, speaking English. I liked how the door reflected the pale light of the morning sun. It invited me into the building. Even as much as I was annoyed to be sent away, there still was my dad standing by me.

I headed towards the door, covering my face with my hand in order to block out the blinding sun. With my free hand I swung the door open and slid in. I released my hand and let my eyes grow accustomed to the dark lights. Inside were three forest green seats with a gold support. The supports were a little foggy with black designs. The waiter stand was empty with just a binder spread out across the surface. Behind the entryway were rows of white-clothed tables, sprinkled with an assortment of people. Nobody seemed to be wanting to leave.

I turned to the windows. I narrowed my eyes and shaded them with my hand to see my parents outside. They were facing each other with my dad's back to me. My mom was shaking her head to what my dad was saying. She glanced up and met my gaze with a glare. She said something to my dad, then walked inside the restaurant.

"Hey, Avani, everything is fine," my mom said, "your dad was just apologizing for what he said to me last night."

Together, we all sat down, but even with my family together, I couldn't keep from worrying inside.