HAZE

CHAPTER 1

IN THE BEGINNING........

It was on days like this when the sun bounced with eye-squinting brilliance that Amara forgot all the apprehension that came with living in a town where muddy paths and rowdy riders were the order of the day. The sun's rays penetrated the trees, casting a reflection against the windows of the houses in view. The wind was whisking away fallen leaves like brightly colored tumbleweeds. The cool breeze that came with the swaying trees soothed her as she sat under a tree outside her apartment, reading a book. Amara could not help but conclude; there was no other place on earth like Petrichor town. It was a town with hills on one side, a valley that ended flat raised land on the other side of the hills. She loved the hilly southern part more because of the pleasant earthy smell after the rain inhabited the ground there. This was because it was covered with so many trees that always attracted rainfall all year long. Petrichor also had a waterfall. Amara would get lost watching water flowing from rivers until it hit the waterfall's plunge pool.

Towards the north, the raised flat land, Petrichor, was a well-urbanized town. It had smooth roads, office buildings, residential houses, commercial businesses, hospitals, churches, and schools. At night, when all the tall buildings had lights on, the city appeared to be a place of light and color, a place with a thousand secrets like the Arabian nights. This invariably left Amara craving for nightfall to admire the contrast in the north and south. The Petrichor University where Amara and her friends were pursuing their bachelor's degree was located in between the north and the south. Thus, Amara rented a house in a place where she could enjoy the best of both worlds.

It was a beautiful afternoon, Amara thought. She naturally didn't have a problem with the mild afternoon sun as most girls her age did. On the contrary, she enjoyed it when the bright rays fell softly against her warm skin. Her skin was chocolate smooth and rarely, if ever, called to unnecessary sunburns. She was in her early twenties, 22 years to be exact, but her 5'2 height likened her to most adolescent girls stumbling through developing their womanhood. Her height was an advantage in itself; she occasionally paid reduced entrance fees to museums. However, the downside was that she needed to have a friend with her that looked older so she could be allowed in with the assumption of parental guidance. Wearing that particular white pair of shorts called attention to her curviness, something which didn't bother her as much since she was comfortable and the yellow baggy shirt blended well with it. Her look should have seemed lazy, but instead, it was flattering on her. Her big, slightly sapphire eyes had been gazing upon a fleet of birds perched on an electricity pole. Before the distraction, she had buried her nose inside one of her favorite books. After all, there was no better home for her than inside the fun-filled fantasy-inducing romance that books were created for lost souls. She found herself smiling as the birds flew away in unison.

It was the perfect kind of weather to sit and lazy around sipping coffee while dreamily appreciating mother nature and her eccentricities. Amara was a dreamer herself. She believed that she would prevail over all life obstacles and be as free-spirited as the wind one day: Succeeding in school, getting a job in the city, which she hoped would bring a talent scout sniffing around her in the hopes of finding a blooming star.

She would then write a bestselling novel to ensure paparazzi surrounded her on every red carpet she stepped on. When ready, she would marry a man of great nobility who would be as gallant as the knights of olden times.

Amara's best friend, Nana, steadied herself against the armrest and looked over her shoulders at a group of friends strolling. They were laughing loudly, occasionally tapping each other's hands in agreement as their unknown object of humor got more intoxicating. Then, wondering out loud, she said with unmistakable longing in her voice.

"Amara, why don't you visit me anymore?"

Amara scratched her head, soothing the imaginary itch as she tried to obtain a likely answer. One that wouldn't make her seem like such a horrible friend.