Silence and cold. Alarm and loneliness. That's exactly how I would describe my death. A mournful outcome, isn't it? The sadness lies in the realization that in the last moment of your life, you will be utterly alone. No one will hold your hand and accompany you to the realm of the dead, into oblivion. You'll wander alone in the darkness, searching for something familiar and close to the soul. But, naturally, you won't find anything remotely familiar there. Why am I so sure of this? Simply because I've been through it all, albeit not for real. Staging a death is even worse than real death. Because for the rest of your life, you'll be forced to hide. From acquaintances, from authorities, from your past. What guarantee is there that the quiet town where you planned to hide won't turn out to be a haven for your eternal fears? You'll spend the rest of your life hiding your face from others, not knowing for sure if they recognize you or not. But I'm getting ahead of myself. It would be more appropriate to tell you everything from the very beginning. From that summer when my whole life suddenly plummeted into the abyss. My name is Ashley Davis. This is the story of my death.
Trouble never comes alone, and certainly not in one day. Such events unfold gradually. I believe this story begins almost a month before the start of the new, and never started for me, academic year.
Table number four at the roadside café "Misty Taste." It was while sitting at this table that my unforgettable, as it seemed to me, student years flashed before my eyes. For three years in a row, my friends and I often gathered at this table on weekends, endlessly chatting, making joint plans, sharing life stories, and so on in an endless circle.
Before moving to Nespeesh, I lived in Sapland. Sapland—a quiet, peaceful town where rarely anything interesting happens. It's a small town with a population of just over 5,000. The town is surrounded by picturesque mountains, their peaks neatly capped with snow that turns into a small river during the first hot days of spring after a harsh winter. With its beauty, the town beckons passing travelers, yet due to the lack of other entertainment here, tourists don't linger for long. There were never any fairs or festivals held here. The entire town was confined to just one playground. And there were no free amusements provided for children or teenagers; they had to color their days with their own imagination. Parks were mainly frequented by elderly people. Walk through them in a noisy, cheerful group, and you'll undoubtedly catch at least one disapproving glance from them, and upon returning home, all the neighbors will already know that you're an uncouth idler. Parents, naturally, will put you under house arrest for a week for antics that have nothing to do with you, and there goes the fun. We also had only one high school for the whole town. But I didn't really see anything remarkable about that. After all, our population is small, and the desire to study even smaller.
In Nespeesh, everything was completely different. Moving here for university studies, I immediately realized that this town had everything I had ever lacked. There are plenty of different educational institutions, department stores, parks, restaurants, various sports facilities for young people, entertainment centers, and so much more. At first, it was difficult to navigate; I often got lost and struggled to find my women's dormitory where I temporarily stayed during my studies. But over time, I got used to it and realized that I wanted to stay here forever. I planned to move after completing my studies. I wanted to find a job and save up for my own apartment through my own efforts.
By the way, my parents weren't against it. They quietly rejoiced for me, and that was the end of the conversation about my full move. But I didn't expect any other reaction from them. Sentimentality was not a trait in my family. I never saw my parents tell each other they loved one another, show affection, go on dates, cuddle in front of the TV, or cook dinner together. I couldn't remember a single instance where my parents genuinely smiled at each other. Their relationship resembled a formal business partnership. Until a certain age, I didn't give it much thought. After all, everyone is different and shows love in their own way. Deep down, I knew my parents loved each other very much; it's just that their relationship lacked any kind of romance. With time, my relationship with them also became more akin to business partners rather than parent and child. In my early childhood, I remember my mom hugging me before bedtime and laughing at my silly jokes, while my dad often had to answer all the questions of his curious and knowledge-seeking daughter in the evenings. But as I grew older, I heard more and more phrases like "later," "not now," "I have a lot of work, Ashley," "okay, fine," "you're not a little girl anymore, stop being silly." Home ceased to be home for me. And to become less dependent on my parents, in my teenage years, I started working at a small grocery store near my school. I only came home to spend the night. When I first didn't come home immediately after school but closer to midnight, all I heard from my parents was, "it's late, Ashley, go to your room." That was the point of no return. After that, Pat and James Davis became completely indifferent people to me.In Sapland, I had few friends. As I mentioned before, the town is very small, so there aren't many peers to constantly make new acquaintances and find friends. However, this didn't lead me to constant loneliness. Despite my reserved nature, I found a wonderful friend, Naomi, in the fourth grade. We became close after she lost her mother, who suffered from a chronic liver disease. For a long time, she fought her illness, but ultimately succumbed to it. Naomi's father, it seemed, was not affected by this turn of events at all. A month after mourning, he brought another woman home, whom Naomi recognized as their neighbor across the street, and announced his intention to marry her. Now Naomi had to call a completely unfamiliar and unkind woman her mother. Of course, this became the main reason for discord between Naomi and her father. Instead of support from her father after the death of her closest person, she received a blow to her soul from him. Naomi was shattered. Thus, she lost both of her parents in this way.
To many acquaintances, it seemed that the only thing connecting us was the fact that neither of us was needed by our parents. While there may have been a grain of truth in this, I never supported such a conclusion. Even when the pain became less tormenting, we didn't stop needing each other. It even became a little sad that we didn't become close earlier. We were kindred spirits, looking at the world through the same pair of eyes. There was no one in the world who could separate us or make us stop communicating. We sat together in class, and after lessons, we walked each other home, holding hands and swinging them back and forth. We had jokes that only we understood, and by the way, making each other laugh wasn't the slightest trouble. In class, we often laughed, disrupting the teachers' lessons. Although we felt ashamed in front of them, we couldn't stop our own laughter. We gave classmates and mutual acquaintances nicknames to gossip more safely and, indeed, more entertainingly. However, after some time, our code surfaced, and everyone who was mentioned in it stopped talking to us. The thing is, the nicknames fit everyone we bestowed them upon perfectly. We called the chubby girl "Fat Shaker", the local clingy guy "Sticky", and anyone who seemed beneath our dignity "Crap," and so on. Although it was amusing for us, the recipients of such nicknames decided to report us first to their parents, and then to the homeroom teacher. I still remember standing with Naomi in front of the class, listening to reproaches and catching angry glares from classmates. At first, I was anxious and upset—after all, it was just childish mischief that didn't harm anyone. But when Naomi took my hand and squeezed it tightly, I suddenly felt calm, and a faint smile appeared on my face, which enraged everyone even more. But now I didn't care because there was someone next to me holding my hand and making me believe I wasn't alone. It felt like Naomi and I were alone against the whole world, but even so, we were able to stand up to it.
Above the "Misty Taste" café, the bright sun was shining. Summer was in full swing, and the weather was beautiful. It seemed incredible that in a month, heavy rains would begin, and the tree crowns would be tinged with a golden hue.
Naomi's sun-bleached strands of hair fell on her face, and she kept brushing them back. We chatted about everything under the sun for about three hours, sipping our coffee. The conversation mostly revolved around university and the upcoming classes. I expressed complete disappointment about still being a student. Naomi laughed at my grumbling, knowing that I wasn't entirely serious.
"I thought you enjoyed studying at the university," Naomi said in surprise, continuing to smile.
"I enjoy learning new things, reading fiction, but I can't stand historical books. If I wanted to study history, I would have enrolled in the history faculty!" I continued to grumble, not forgetting that my words wouldn't change anything in the education system. Mostly, I expressed dissatisfaction just because it amused Naomi, and to some extent, myself too.
We kept on talking, completely unaware of how dusk was setting in.
"I think I'll throw a party this week," Naomi said unexpectedly.
"Who are you going to invite?"
"I haven't decided yet. I think I'll be glad to see anyone willing to come. I want to remember my college years with good times, not just books and lectures. Besides, when we were in high school, we were deprived of the opportunity to spend time with peers," Naomi said sadly and studied my reaction to her words.
"We weren't deprived of that opportunity; it's just that in Sapland, we lived with boring old folks who didn't throw or attend teenage parties."
Naomi chuckled and took my hand. "We won't go back there anymore. It's time to learn to live and enjoy it."
YOU ARE READING
BETRAYED
Mystery / ThrillerShe lived the life of an ordinary student. Surrounded by loving people she could always rely on. But one day, she faced betrayal head-on. Life began to crumble, and at some point, the desire to seek revenge on each of the offenders for the pain infl...