lilac blossoms & ocean air - a short story

lilac blossoms & ocean air

I take a deep breath in the mirror, rust around the creases. My brilliant white gown that hugs my curves stretching far behind me, the jewels in the neckline reflecting the light of the chandelier on the ceiling far above me. I wipe away the dust surrounding the outer edges of the mirror, the faded polaroid of my father and I, lifetimes ago, nudged in the corner. I look myself in my own deep brown eyes, wiping the nearly dried tears from my cheeks. Locks of my black hair fall over my face as I open a drawer in the vanity before me, reaching for the necklace made with stones and crystals she collected by the sea, the faint scent of salt air and lilac bushes lingering as I lift it towards my face. It's as if through the soft caress of the stones of my face, I can feel her presence within me. So close, yet so far. The distance between us surges through my veins like acid, creating a void within me.

I place the dainty necklace around my neck, allowing the fierce memory of her to lay over my softly beating chest where it belongs, even as I will soon be promising my heart to another. The band below my private quarters play soft introductory violin melodies as guests begin to shuffle into the lobby, slightly muffled by the floorboards between us. My heartbeat accelerates as I hear revving engines outside my open window, converging voices and footsteps ascending the outer stairs of the mansion.

I glance to the wooden floors below me where the gleaming diamond heels I'm to wear lay. As the doorknob to my quarters turns, I close my eyes in the last moments of freedom in my life, allowing myself to recall the final time I laid my eyes on her, remembering the reviving notion of wisteria and fresh morning dew beneath my bare feet.

I left through my bedroom window at dusk, forcing myself to see her one final time, a bitter farewell awaiting, though I promised her a forever. Dashing through the mansions gardens, cobblestones cold under my bare feet and my silk nightgown flying in the wind behind me, I focused on the fresh morning breeze and the soft melody of the birds in the branches of a willow tree above me. The soft wind brushed my black waves from my face as I willed myself to release the images of his cruel smirk and his greased black hair from my mind. I rushed past the mansion fences towards the all so familiar woods, the discreet passageway to her.

As I passed the final trees shadowing their shade onto the forest ground, hopping over creeks and logs, the sun on my skin warmed my nerves as the familiar scent of ocean air approached. Smoke emitted from her chimney appearing above tall willow trees, something about the simple sight of it feeling like home somehow. It had still felt so inviting to me, that I quickened my pace, passing by the swing hanging from the strong willow branch outside her columns and columns of lilac bushes. The first thing I saw through the deep purple blossoms of the lilacs was her radiant scarlet curls, falling into place down to her hips like dominos. She stood on the porch of her cabin, a straw hat atop her head, worn jean overalls covered in the dirt from the lilac bushes that stand outside the rusted windows of her oak cabin. I approached her, her striking emerald eyes laying upon mine. In her arms was a basket filled to the brim with lavender and aloe vera. She sat it down on the worn porch swing beside her, her eyes never leaving mine.

She started towards me, floors of the cabin creaking under her step. As she slowly neared, the scent of sea salt and lilac swept over me and I had to catch my breath, fluttering in my stomach. The mere presence of her brought me a familiar feeling of peace, something that just made sense despite how impossible our relationship remained. I had little doubt that even when the sun consumed the earth and our stars burnt into nothingness, that our love would persist. I searched her eyes for any trace of doubt or pain at my visit, but all I found was relief. A single tear rolled down her freckled face.

Her delicate hand reached for my face and she whispered, "I thought I would never see you again." I began to sob, wrapping her tiny figure in my arms, her silk hair on my skin. As I held her, I memorized the feel of her hair and the smell of her skin, hoping it will linger on mine forever. "Don't marry him, Amara," She whispers in my ear, her soft melodic voice curing every trace of pain and hurt from the past several months of enduring the loss of my father, the tireless demands of my mother and the abuse of my allocated fiance. Her face came within inches of mine and I could feel her warm breath brushing my skin. I lifted my dark brown hand to hold hers on my face, repeating to her what she already knew. That I had no choice. My father left us nothing but bankruptcy, and without Julian's fortune we would lose everything we have. The mansion, the cars, the already wretched relationship with my mother. The constant reminder rang continuously in my mind that the only thing I had that felt truly and undoubtedly dear to me was her, standing before me.