The People Of Guilt

One

In the middle of grey skies and a soft misty fog stood Zorana. It was the coldest Raymond's been since spring took over at the end of February. The sudden cold front washed over the bustling town, draping coats over fathers and shaws over mothers. Cute puffy jackets were slipped onto little children. The heat was history. It was finally time for checkered printed scarfs, ankle-high boots, and pumpkin spiced lattes with way too much creamer. Amongst it all was Zorana's favorite season. The air, the festive, the orange, reds, and grays. Everything seemed to shift in the atmosphere in ways that made even a lousy weekend feel warm and cozy. Zorana stood on the bank of the reservoir, her mother's urn in hand and a thin windbreaker strapped around her waist. She took it off as she climbed out of her 2010 Cobalt and wrapped it around her waist. Zorana wanted to feel the air, feel the gusts of wind that tickled the back of her neck, the chill in the earth's breath. Everything she was experiencing now would be a part of her mother now; she wanted to remember every aspect of this moment.

Unfortunately, the summer took away not only its occasional misty showers, or pool floaties, and ice-cold lemonades, but it had also taken away Zorana's mother. An accident that caused more pain than Zorana even thought was possible. The confusion haunted her day in and day out. It had become a routine to her, numbing any emotion she felt until this moment. "This was life," she would have told herself, "this happens." People come, and people go; Zorana even knew that. Today was no different. Today was time for her mother to fly.

She took the lid off the urn and stared at the gray ashes within. The pit in her stomach danced with agony as realization began to settle in. This moment was it. She was gone. She would be free to roam the earth as she pleased, but did Zorana want that? However selfish this may seem, she wasn't ready. How could Zorana let go of such precious memories? When she thought of her mother, she thought of brightly colored happiness, disturbed by demise. It was all just gone now. The laughter after her mother told awful jokes, the smell of her peanut butter cookies, the warmth of her hugs that lingered all too long, the taste of her famous gumbo she made on Christmas. Her life. Gone.

She was right. She couldn't do this. Zorana put the lid back on the urn and stood staring out at the reservoir's dark waters. When she felt content with herself, she left. Zorana walked around to her passenger side, opening it up to strap her mother into her seatbelt. Then she made it around to her seat. She wouldn't be back again tomorrow, nor the following day. She would be back when she was able to build the courage up once more to stand at the edge and even think about scattering her mother's ashes.

So where to now? Where else, then home, right? She could take her car down and drive the four hours back to Louisiana and go home, but she couldn't. Her mother's home was vacant now. She couldn't bring herself to step foot inside ever again. She hadn't been back since the day the Sheriff escorted her back so she could pack a couple of bags. Those same bags were now stashed away into her trunk. She stayed with a friend for the last few weeks until she received her mother's ashes and drove to the reservoir to scatter them. She took her belongings because she was sure that would have been her last night staying with them. But now, she wasn't so sure.

It wasn't that she had anywhere to go; it was just that she wasn't comfortable asking any family for help. It wasn't like anyone bothered to reach out to her anyway. She hadn't heard from anyone in her family but her uncle Rod. Her mother's brother. A couple of minutes into the conversation and it was, "Well, let me know where you're staying, and I'll keep in touch" instead of "If you need a place to stay, feel free to come live with me. I'm here for you if you need me." He didn't keep in touch. She was down to her last option. Austin.

Austin Thoman was her boyfriend. Well, boyfriend was the technical term for it. Zorana was with Austin, but it wasn't necessarily certain if Austin was with her. He was in and out of the relationship, coming and going as he pleased. Their on and off status was courtesy of his flimsy social identity. A young boy clueless as to who he was, who he wanted to be, and where he wanted to go. He was floating and hovering around Zorana; she was a good ally. She was whatever Austin needed her to be at that given time. In a way, she floated and hovered around him as well. She used him when he used her, but not in a way to get back at him. Austin fluctuated on what he was to her often. Zorana struggled with providing a lack of emotion towards him, yet also a clinginess partial from not wanting to feel alone and needing someone. Even if that someone happened to be an asshole.