Daughter of Ogden

Chapter 1 - Garbage of Doom

There once lived a girl named Ava. A bright, young girl who lived an ordinary life, until she picked up one too many dirty chocolate-bar wrappers— Sorry. I didn't know how to start this story. I suppose that was a pretty strange way to do so, nevertheless, it's what I wrote, and I didn't feel like restarting. It's unlikely that anyone will stumble upon this, anyway.

      If you do read this, I wouldn't know whether to feel proud, or apologize. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to read about my life, but I was told that some may find my misery amusing. I believed that person to be full of it, but as you'll soon read, I've been wrong on many occasions.

      It all started at school. Just another public school's attempt to appear environmentally friendly soon to present my demise. To be fair my problems were also partially a result of my birth mother giving birth to me, Nathaniel's fault for finding me, my parents fault for being gullible, and Savannah's fault for stealing a damn rock— but I don't want to give away too many spoilers. Still, had Ridgeview High not forced me to pick up other people's trash, my life wouldn't be so chaotic. I likely wouldn't have been found.

     At first, I had been relieved to go trash picking; saved from another Algebra pop quiz, but boredom hit rapidly. Most of our classmates had ditched, sneaking out of the woods to go to the local park. I didn't dare, knowing all too well that my mother would somehow find out.

The easily distracted type, it didn't take long before I fell many feet behind my friends, lazily dragging my trash bag. Voices ahead becoming a haze, a faraway whistling prickled my ears. My brows rose, surprised that my group of friends wasn't the only to stay behind. Whistling growing louder, I tried to place the tune. It was eerily familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint its origin.

      "Ava?" Amy called, interrupting my thoughts.

       By her amused façade and laughter, I knew that my name must have been called multiples times before I responded. I shot her my usual sheepish smile, silently apologizing for my scattered attention.

      Flicking a strand of her choppy blue hair, standing beside Amy, Stella laughed as well. "She's doing it, again."

     I hadn't listened to a word they spoke for the past ten minutes, but they took no offense, accustomed to my lacking awareness. I couldn't even blame it on the mind reading this time, other than the mysterious whistler we were far from any living beings. The whistling shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but my curiosity got the best of me.

     "We're used to your spacing out," Amy noted, hazel eyes sparkling with humor. "But perhaps it would be in your best interest to pay attention to the swamp you've nearly walked into."

     Sneaking a glance at my damp shoes, sure enough, I was standing in a deep pile of mud, steps away from the murky water. My mother wouldn't be pleased with the ruining of my new white shoes, but I would be happy to retrieve the pair of purple high-tops she so hated. I didn't particularly care that the skater shoes as she claimed, didn't match the white blouse and plaid skirt uniform required by Ridgeview High.

      Catching up with Amy and Stella, as much as I tried to focus on the conversation, I remained distracted by the familiar tune. The whistling was getting louder, whoever had chosen to stay getting closer.

      "Anyone know that song?" I finally asked, searching the trees to my left with inquisitive eyes.

      "What song?" Amy asked.

      "That is what I just asked."

      This time, hazel eyes held less humor, seemingly holding back the urge to roll.