Tuesday: August 28, 2007
Who: Riley [narrative]
Where: Rilad water bungalow
When: Sunrise
What: Riley realizes there is a deeper reason why she won't leave Farad's bungalow

It didn't matter how late Riley went to bed. She would still wake up early to watch the sunrise. The expression on her face was always the same. Like a child seeing the colors unfold for the first time. No matter how many times she tried to sleep in, she just couldn't. Even on days when she over exhausted herself by running over the different terrains in Elysium, legs and feet nearly giving in. She needed the dawn to remember home

Riley was at the window sitting so she could fit in the frame. She drew her knees towards her chest. As she thought of Arizona and the Navajo tribe she once was apart of, she tried to ignore he pain by tracing a finger down a mark she had left from putting out a cigarette the first day she arrived at Farad's bungalow. It was only a few days, but the mark proved she wouldn't be leaving.



To most people a sunrise was just a sunrise. You admired the sight and then you went on with your day. But back at her tribe-her adoptive family that she wished belonged to her, that she belonged to-stories were made about it, heroes created it. Better yet the sunrise had it's own creator. Many nights by a campfire that could reach the havens, Riley heard the stories and now craved more than ever to have someone tell her those stories.

"I miss all of you." Riley spoke into the dead air. Not like anyone would hear her. She sighed, the pain of wanting to go home returning and she drew her knees further towards her chest. "I miss all of you so much."

There were tears in her eyes, so she searched for a cigarette. Riley needed one to try and blame something else for causing the glaze in her eyes. The shape-shifter wanted to stop thinking. But she couldn't. She had evaded thinking about home for about two months and now the time had come. And god, it was so strong. Unlike psychical pain, it was much more hard to take, She couldn't get herself to numb it.

Riley shifted a bit, lighting up her cigarette. She took in a large drag before she let the cigarette wielding hand rest at her knees. She thought the nicotine might give her a break from thinking, but she was mistaken. She went on with thinking.

"..Ahiga are you ashamed of me?" Riley asked suddenly. Her usual deepened voice was for once softened. Her adopted father had taught her so much. How to accept being adopted. How to feel wanted. How to accept being able to shift into a creature that she was so frightened with. Heh. She used to once be so frightened of everything. But Ahiga's poetic ways of speaking to her made her feel like a warrior.

It reminded her of the meaning of her rightful name. Anaba. Girl who returned from war. But she was far from returning. Riley felt as though she did not deserve such a bold name. No Not any more. She was once a person so docile. One would have been proud to admit her past. Proud to have said she was raised by Native Americans and was doing whatever she could to keep the little land they had left safe. But in the end..She didn't want to think about her life in the city of sin. Overrated Las Vegas.

She should have fought hard enough to make sure she could have brought her family here. Not the ones who ripped her away from Arizona and what was left of the Native Tribes. But her family.

Fond memories kept resurfacing. Such as the time she rolled in mud to try and match the beautiful dark colors of the Natives. How she danced in the tribal events. How, despite the fact she seemed like an albino, Riley was..accepted. In fact, once she was known as a shape-shifter, Riley became a legend. Told she would be like another story memorized among the many to be told in future generations.

But would there be? Since the pandemic it was so hard to think about building families when keeping your own life together seemed so difficult.

"Shit!"

Riley cursed as the cigarette burnt her now tender finger. Her thoughts made her comfort smoke useless and she quickly put the cancer stick out on the window pane, making yet another print marking that she would not be leaving the room she now claimed as her own.

It was often common to speak to dead relatives as if they were some force of comfort or if they could hear you as Riley was taught. Especially if they were the mother or the father.

"I know why you brought me here."

She got up finally.

"He looks just like him."

Riley walked ever so quietly towards Farad's room. The slightly younger roommate could sleep through the apocalypse. Not to mention he was not a morning person, grumpy like hell when she finally got him up. If she got him up. She could hit him with pillows, punch him with might and he wouldn't budge. They didn't get along.

Just like.

Just like brother and sister.

She didn't wake him this time. Riley carefully walked in for a moment to sit at the chair near his bed.

"You could be his twin."

There were very small differences. He didn't have the tan, copper mixed skin that her adopted brother Gad had. Farad didn't have the scar on his eye. But other than that, the two proved that 'everyone had a twin out there.' Her beloved adopted brother could still be alive, but due to his stubbornness to leave his Native land she highly doubted it. So, since she couldn't find anyone from her village.

"I'm content with you.."

Riley had to admit to herself..they would most likely still argue, still have moments of awkward times in separate rooms if she told him about this. No way could she ever tell him. She couldn't get all soft and sappy with the artist.

But either way she would protect him. Just like she did her younger brother who was near the same age.

She smiled fondly at him still in belief that 'things do happen for a reason'

There was a tender moment in the air.

That is..

Until she hit him hard in the head with his spare pillow.

"Get the hell up and stop being a lazy ass."

Riley quickly wiped at her eyes, her composure back to being firm.