Clarabelle and the Secrets within

Chapter One: Wishing on A Shooting Star

It's currently twelve o'clock am and it's our fifth year of not having my parents by our side. Their bright and ecstatic faces wake me up with kisses and blow horns; squealing at the top of their lungs. Happy Birthday!

"Happy Birthday Clara." I breathe leaning against my window sill, fogging up the glass as the memories pour in like the rain outside. I watch the raindrops race each other down the glass, collecting others making them heavier; therefore faster. The Autumn leaves pressed against the pavement from all the pouring rain. My happy place.

Fall has always and will always be one of my favorite seasons because I prefer the cold, the rain, the smell of it. It kicks me back to my younger years when my mother would read with me cuddled in front of the fireplace.

"No dream is ever too big." My mother held my face in her hands gently, gazing intently into my eyes.

"But all the kids at school" I said weakly, as a tear rolled down my cheek. "They always make fun of me."

"They just don't understand how beautiful dreams are, limiting themselves to trivial things like jobs and families. There is so much more out there for you honey." I already know where she is going with this. "You're right because..." I nod as she gives me one of her knowing smiles, whispering. "The world is held together by the ones who dream of stranger worlds."

"The world is held together by the ones who dream of stranger worlds." I smile weakly as I glance over at the pile of books that I've read more than once because living through this life imagining myself as a fictional character or with one brings comfort that words can't even start to explain.

"No, I do not want to go." My little sister who's only eleven mumbles as she sprawls across the bottom bunk of our bed. Her chestnut-colored hair that she inherited from our Dad. I look back at the window pressing my warm cheek against the cool glass gazing up at the stars above.

A star shoots across the darkness of the sky. I close my eyes wishing for my life to be like one of my books where I'm the main character who saves everyone from all the pain and sorrow they've endured. I shake my head at the thought because life is nothing like that. Life throws you curveballs and doesn't care if you are ready or not.

I look at my reflection, seeing the eyes that I was gifted with from my parents. One a deep viridian like my Dad's, and the other a crystal blue like my mother's. They look too tired to belong to a sixteen-year-old. Smeared eyeliner and mascara, blotchy red patches from tears, and swollen lips.

'You're too young to be this tired.' They say, but that is the biggest lie someone can ever tell you, because I've faced so many challenges that the average person wouldn't even have as nightmares.

The echo of a police car comes to mind and I cringe at the memory. I have just made mac n cheese for my sister when a hard and daunting knock sounded at the door. I kissed her forehead and gave her a heart-shaped pink plate to celebrate Valentine's day. My parents were out on their date and I hoped to find love as they have. I was excited to see my mother's gift that I had helped Dad buy her, which was a golden locket in the shape of a heart. I ran up to the door and looked through the peephole. Watching a tired police officer.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door.

"Are you Clarabelle Alastair?" The man asks, an edge to his voice.

"...Yes. Why?" I ask incredulously and he takes his hat off, his ginger hair falling over his dark eyes.

"I am deeply sorry to inform you...that your parents are..." and before he could finish I laughed, causing him to raise his brows taken aback at my reaction. "You have the wrong girl officer I assure you," I say as I try to shut the door but he sticks his foot in.

"Arwin and Calliope Alastair?" He inquires and I whip my head back, shutting the door behind me as I walk outside, as if this will protect my sister Clarity from all the news that I will have to tell her.

"They were on the corner of Sunnyside, and Rosewood. They were shot and killed, all of their money stolen, except for this. He pulls out the locket that was supposed to be gifted to my mother. I clap my hand over my mouth stifling the sob that tries to escape. My body seems to give up on me, fleeing and trying to escape this reality. My knees buckle causing me to fall.

"No...no...no." I shake my head vigorously. "They were here an hour ago!" I yell. "THEY WERE JUST HERE!" I scream, their bodies were probably still warm. "How am I supposed to explain this to a six-year-old!"

"It's going to be okay." The man assures me and I look down grabbing the locket out of his hand.

"He..."I choke out, my nose feeling runny. I wipe my nose on my sleeve not caring how much of a mess I probably look right now. "He was supposed to give her this. Now he'll never be able to," The knife twists deeper in my heart.

My brain decides it's enough and blurs out all the painful memories. My depressive episode. My sister is trying to get me out of bed. The odd distance and resentment from my grandparents who came to take care of us after the incident.

My face is wet all over again, along with the sting that seems to never go away. I grab my comfort book reading my favorite lines, as I hug the life-sized bear I was given by my Mom on Valentines' day previous to the year that they died.

"Oh my sweet Clara, I am sorry for all the sorrow that weighs down on yourself. Let me distract you for now before life sweeps you away with all its cruelty." The voice of my comfort character says softly and I doze off my face nuzzled against his chest.