Mint [H.S.]

17

Miss You - Between The Trees 

I miss you more than you even know. More than you probably care... How does it make you feel?

ISABELLA

A week goes by and I have yet to return his call. I have, however, replayed his message over and over again, soaking in every inch of his voice. His drunken plea for forgiveness has seeped into every corner and cavity of my heart and soul. I don't think it's possible to forget the erie brokenness that laced each vowel and syllable in each word that he spoke. 

I cried myself to sleep that night. The soothing comfort of Natalia's voice bringing me into a numbing state. I don't think I dreamt that night or the night following. I was drawn into a black abyss. 

That following morning, and every morning and night following, I replayed his message. I played it over and over again until my battery ran out. There was a voice that yelled at me, shouting to return his call. But whenever my thumb would hover over his name, I couldn't go on. As much as I longed to hear his voice once more, to speak to him and to laugh, my heart wasn't ready for it yet. I don't think I am emotionally stable to do so. 

A week has gone by and I have found myself back into the lifestyle of New York's finest elite. As much as Natalia and I have tried to get away from the obligations that come with being a Maxwell, it was impossible. This was because image held a higher priority over everything else. If we missed out on family obligations, then we would be setting an unhealthy image for our family name. Frankly, I could care less... but this was to honour our only standing grandparent. Grandmother Russell - Kathleen Russell, my mother's only living parent. 

The Russell family has been at the top of the New York socialite ladder for centuries. It's said that my great-great-great-great grandfather was a high ranking military officer in World War I, which in turn left our family high in the social structure for years to come. 

My grandmother was a humanitarian, who started many charities and orphanages that aided children in India. She was a Mother Teresa in her own right, and was being honored tonight for her hard work. 

Natalia and I have always been close to our grandmother. She was kind and a nurturer, who looked past her wealth and saw people for who they were. She had been in India, visiting the many orphanages she had opened and had been unable to come home for Christmas. I truly wished she had been home. I'm sure if she was, then maybe things would have been different now. If there is one person Franklin Maxwell fears most, that would be Grandmother Russell. 

It was a sea of couture gowns and overly priced shoes. Nat and I had been in a fitting for our gowns all morning, hoping to find something to wear tonight. I had settled on a light green gown with leave detailing, a high slit and a low back. It was stunning. I paired them with nude heels and a simple, delicate gold necklace and his bracelet. 

"Are you ready?" asked Natalia as she fastens the chunky gold necklace around her neck. She was wearing a fitted red dress with a black belt fastened around her waist. She looked stunning with her hair partially pinned back. 

"One moment," I finished applying the nude pink lipstick against my lips and did one final glance at the final outfit. "Ready..." 

She opens up the door for me, letting me walk through the threshold first. There's a car waiting for us outside our apartment building. The driver is kind as he opens the door for us. He waits patiently as we maneuver our way and into the back seat. It's more difficult than it looks when you try to sit down in a floor length gown. 

I stifle my laugh. Nat leans awkwardly in the seat. She glances over at me, her light eyes rolling in annoyance. "I hope we don't have to sit much at this thing..."