Ocean of Memories

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Maybe we were all just figments of our imaginations, maybe we didn't have anything left to give. Maybe I wasn't the only one who was feeling the way I was.

Maybe. Hopefully.

The wind blew my hair around as I stood on the deck. Cal and Mother were at tea, and I had excused myself politely after making a snide comment at Bruce Ismay, the self indulged brute he was. Cal called me a pistol, Mother called me a problem, and I called myself worthless.

I felt eyes on me from somewhere down below, and my eyes flitted across the deck trying to locate them. No one was looking at me, not anyone-

There was a boy, leaning against the starboard rail in a brown shirt with matching overalls. He carried a little portfolio, and it was him. He was staring at me like I was the next Napoleon.

I looked away, angrily and a bit pleased. Ha. At least someone still thought I was pretty. I tried to focus on something else, but I couldn't help myself. I looked back at him again.

His friend tried to tear his gaze off me, but the boy kept his eyes on me. Something was different about his gaze, something made me want more.

He had deep blue eyes, not a dark kind of blue, but more like a sea foam green color. He had a dimple on his cheek, and his hair, short and floppy, blew in the wind.

Of course Cal came up behind me and had to ruin the moment. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. "What were you thinking in there, Rose? You want to get us all the latest gossip?"

Sighing rudely, I pushed my way past him and left him behind, muttering to himself. Dammit. I hated my life, hated the way it was spinning faster and faster, with no way to stop it.

I was sick of this. Sick of life. I wanted to just run away.

It was like at night, while the others slept, I kept walking the tightrope. It was practice. It was the tightrope that Cal and Mother and everyone was ordering me too walk. No matter how long, no matter how high.

The truth was, while I was busy walking on a tightrope, the rest of the world was busy watching someone else, busy doing something besides caring about me.

The tightrope was too thin, and I was about the lose my balance. I could feel it, and so could everybody else. They just liked to pretend it wasn't there.

I was the girl who went home to her family and tried to tell them, when I was 7, how I was feeling. They told me, "Get over it. It's just a phase." As if depression is something that can be remedied with the finest clothes and jewellery.

I was locked inside a world that I had created. Locked inside a mirror, with no one to let me out. I was trapped, trapped because I had trusted people that never, ever should be trusted.

I was trapped, trapped because of some fairy tale people had once told me named love.