Breaking the story

The mysterious Rowan

(Picture from the drama Extraordinary You, which is how I imagine the party)

I buried my face in my pillow and tried out a scream. It wasn't really working. My hands skimmed the half formed books on my side table. The titles were bold and inviting, but when I opened them, there was only blurry black lines. The idea of a story, not a story itself. I clenched my fists and then let them relax, aware of the futility of it all.

I walked slowly down into the kitchen, the hall lights making faint shadows on the floor. The fridge hummed in the dark, the room empty and giving the impression of a set when everyone has gone home.

I opened the fridge and found a forlorn yoghurt lying on the shelf.

I sighed and opened it, grabbing a spoon from a drawer.

"You're up late."

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Dad," I said, my heart calming. He stood just behind me, his hair rumpled from sleep. "I just wanted a snack."

"Ah," he replied, lapsing back into silence. I felt strange, standing there watching him. Was he even my dad? All these ideas and memories I had of him...they were just make-believe. Did any of my childhood memories even happen? Or were we an idea of a life instead of a real one?

"Do you remember when we went to the water park with Mum years ago?" I asked suddenly. The memory still stung; that was before my Mum left us. But it had been a good day and I could remember my dad laughing as we hurled down a water slide.

"That was a great day," he said, smiling. "I wish we could do something like that again."

"We will," I said, hoping against hope. Maybe we could find some time...when I wasn't acting in the scenes. We could go on holiday to some far off location, where the names of everyone in St. Arianne's had never been heard.

"I've always wanted to go to New Zealand," he mused and he seemed less mechanical. "Or even Australia."

"Ugh," I said dramatically, shivering in distaste. "With all those bugs?"

He laughed and leaned forwards to ruffle my hair. I felt like a little girl again, desperate for some me and Dad time. We used to just get each other. Mum had always been colder and more distant...but we had been two peas in a pod. Until this story started.

"I think you're capable of handling some bugs, Beatrice. You're a force of nature." He chuckled and watched me fondly. "But you should go back to bed. You've got school in the morning."

I didn't want to go to school! I wanted to run away to New Zealand or Australia, even with the bugs.

"Alright," I said, giving him a hug as I went back up the stairs. "Night, Dad."

"Night, Bea."

I left him lingering around the fridge and went back to my room, with only the exciting prospect of a yoghurt to console me. I wanted a pizza instead.

Well good golly gosh but I looked fancy. I admired myself in the floor length mirror, the midnight blue of my dress sweeping the floor. It was tight and showed off my figure. My heels were black and I teetered in them, trying to keep my balance. The room itself was impressive. Tables covered in silky white clothes were covered in glasses filled with bubbling drinks. The ceiling had a great glass window which opened onto the night sky. Of course it was a spectacular night, the stars sparkling like diamonds. Waiters bustled about, carrying trays of snacks.