The unbroken circle

Melanie Malone

The smell hit me first. It is so overwhelming that I reflexively cover my nose. Trees, dried leaves and mud covers every square inch. The view is breathtaking, but I cannot help but gag.

The strong odor that surrounds me is so strong that my stomach begins to turn.

Suddenly I've found the word for the scent that laces the early morning air. Moss covers the forest floor. The thick, but familiar odor causes tears to fill my eyes unexpectedly. This smell and this view both remind me of her. She loved nature and I loved her once.

I drop the hand at my nose and begin to stare openly at the pale orange sunrise taking flight before me.

"Hello Melanie," a feather-like voice chirps from above me.

"Yes," I answer hesitantly, still gazing at the dazzling blaze of colors.

"Take to the sky." the voice commands grntly.

"Who are you? More importantly, where are you?" I inquire, turning my head from side to side, causing my Long, black hair to dance in the wind.

My arms automatically lift up beside my hair. All of a sudden, the wind picks up. The nearby trees shake and tremble as the wild gusts bear down upon them. Slowly I drop my arms.

"You are a natural." a tiny, fragile looking bluebird says as it descends from the branches above and lands on a log slightly to my left. "you are so much like her and you don't even know it."

Ding! Ding! Ding!

"Not again," I groan into my pillow as I reach over and switch off the alarm clock and roll over to face the calendar pinned on the sky blue wall beside my bed.

It's Monday, but not just any Monday. Today is the Monday that most normal high school students in Salem dread, including me.

"It's the first day of school, Mel." Stella calls in her high, musical voice from the hallway just beyond the closed bedroom door.

I can picture her perfectly; golden hair flying, stormy blue eyes bright with anticipation, with her full lips parted in a wide, joyful grin.

Stella has always loved school. I on the other hand, absolutely abhor school. In fact, I dislike most things. I am a pessimist and I'm proud of it.

Awkwardly I sit up in bed and place my feet firmly on the white carpet beneath me. I hate mornings, in fact I hate everything that happens before five PM. My dad calls me his little moon child. Over the summer I reversed my entire schedule. I woke up every day between four to seven PM and went to bed at about twelve AM.

Unfortunately for me, Salem high starts promptly at eight thirty AM. I stand up with a sigh and walk over to the closet. I pull open the door slowly and let out a surprised gasp.

"Nana! Where are my clothes?" I call irritably.

Obviously Nana went through my closet again and, how does she put it "organized and updated my wardrobe". Every few months my grandma sneaks into my room and removes practically every shred of decent clothing I own. Evidently she has been at it again because instead of finding my clothes, I am now staring straight at the world's ugliest clothes ever. How long is it going to take my Nana to realize that she and I have dissimilar tastes. If she had her way I would be wearing frilly sundresses, plaid skirts and sweaters.

Impatiently, I search through the endless supply of my grandma's picks. An endless supply of frilly dresses and pleated skirts occupy the closet. finally I decide on a white, cotton dress with tiny gold buttons and a blue cardigan. Luckily I hid my vans under my bed or I would be stuck wearing a pair of white, peep toe wedges. An involuntary shiver runs through me. If there's one thing I hate more than school, it's open toed shoes. Impatiently I slide on the dress, shrug into the cardigan and slip on my shoes. Then I grab my messenger bag and make a run for it down the stairs.