Blue Skies

Prologue

Prologue

A girl with charcoal hair and ocean eyes walk into the classroom with a frown. Instead of blowing the hair away from her face she decides to let it be as the teacher introduces her as a new transfer student to the fourth grade. Her appearance seemed unsettling, almost as if she didn’t exactly belong in this classroom full of ladybug stickers and puppy dog posters.

Her frown was contagious, spreading uneasy feelings to the children in the room. She looked like she didn't want to be here, although her frown wasn’t exactly mad or sad. She just seemed sort of…worried.

"Well hello there darling! Aren't you just precious! We're all about welcoming new learners here in our fourth grade class! What's your name?"

All 25 pairs of eyes turned to the small figure, waiting for her response. They watched as she looked around the room, frown still visible. The class was all waiting to see if she had something to say, and leaned forward a little.

“Would you like to tell us your name?” The teacher’s voice was shaky, obviously haven’t met someone quite like this before. After a few good solid seconds had passed by, she opened a giant notebook, searching for what it seems to be her name.

“Abelia? Oh sweetie, did they misspell your name? It’s Amelia, isn’t it? Amelia…Vinson? Beautiful name that is, Amelia. Let’s all welcome Amelia!”

The class had clapped with the same enthusiasm as you would find in a funeral, almost drowning her next words out.

"My name is Abelia." She said, barely audible above a whisper as she furrowed her eyebrows together.

"Pardon, Amelia?"

"Too many things, too many people." She had said, and the all the students silently watched her as her frown disappeared into something unreadable, and left towards the back of the classroom, where for the continuing year, she had stayed.

=  =  =  =  =  =

"Mum, I can't sleep."

"Why not?"

"I keep having nightmares, and my brain doesn't seem to want to turn off."

"Why not?"

"I worry, mum, I worry a lot."

"What ever is there to be worrying about at 4am in the middle of the night?"

"How do you not? There are too many things going on. There are too many people going around."

"Well, what would make you feel better? Talking to someone maybe?"

"Writing. Can I have a notebook, mum? I have too many things in my head, but I can't seem to get them out, no matter how hard I try. I don't want to talk to anyone, because the last time I opened up to anyone, they judged me, and they left me. Goodnight."