Gone for Grief

~Chapter 1~

     Anticipation swayed throughout the noisy drone of the classroom, as all lustrous eyes were set upon the pulsating clock. A shy, reserved girl with auburn hair that fell after her shoulders and scintillating emerald eyes,was submerged in a consolidated, leather bound book with a smooth glossy black cover, the title in shimmering golden letters. She sat in the back of the class where a granular, gnarled shelf housed a heap of abandoned, half ripped projects from throughout the year, neglection shown through the heavy coat of grime collected throughout the months. A musty smell lingered in the air, but it didn't stop a boisterous spirit to rise inside the petite girl's chest. She went by Olivia and came back from the the deceptive fantasy of of her novel, gazing out the window at the mountainous topography and bustling trolley cars of Wellington New Zealand. She despised the judgemental glares received and arbitrary whispers that traveled throughout the classroom, contributing to her self-effacement and timorous behavior. The bell rang with a twirl and Olivia's feet pattered against the old tattered wooden floor boards as a stampede of students trailed her, anxiously awaiting their summer vacation. Olivia abruptly stopped inconveniently blocking the rest of the students, causing most of them to attempt hazardous breakthroughs. A wisp of black cotton settling down on her aunt's shoulder caught her eye, her aunt deceived others by wearing bright colors to promote an upbeat and content mood, though she happened to be a very irritable and hostile person. Her recent change in clothing worried her especially since the color choice happened to be ebony, the obvious color to portray the loss of a loved one. Her grim face was stoic, as it always was, but somehow today she saw it swimming with utter concern. Aunt Charlotte here in Wellington? She lived in Auckland, scarcely paying attention to the Wilsons. By her sudden appearance, Olivia knew something was wrong. Suddenly a tear began to slip down her cheek as she attempted to brush it off she sprinted to the community garden, just as her aunt slipped out of vision she caught a sight of her face wiped with complete bewilderment. Olivia's mint green sweater caught on a branch floating lazily from a tree, but she hastily ripped it from the tree, causing a slight tear as she stumbled across the sidewalk, salty droplets clouding her eyes. She slumped against a rickety fence that provided no source of comfort for her sour heart. She knew it was dangerous, her mom and dad's new commute by boat was treacherous with the stormy seas and somehow deep down she knew there had to be some complications with it, she just knew. She knew like she knew the sky was light blue, grass was jade green, soil sandy brown, and she knew that she would not be able to bear the immense pain that would follow, she knew. She knew and let herself become buried in tears that streamed down her face, outlining their path in a pearly white illumination. She fell to her knees once there was too much grief to cry about and suddenly saw her plump aunt sauntering over.

     "Olivia," she hesitated before continuing a face as still as stone,"Only an hour ago a strange number appeared on my phone. I answered and-."

     Her voice cracked, yet she continued, "Your parents- I'm so sorry." As if she had an ounce of sympathy or decency for that matter. She found herself hit with a sudden pain of guilt.

     The guilt that she diffidently had locked herself in her room, avoiding her parents eyes and eager questions. The guilt that she had complained when her parents told her they had found a new vocation and they were moving away from Napier into the neighboring town Wellington. How she had let time slip past like soap, unable to grasp that her time would be so abruptly gone, but it was and she couldn't go back and fix it though she wanted to. She wouldn't talk to anyone, she thought. She would lock herself away and run away from the sorrow, living a life of solitude. She allowed herself to get up and walk away with Aunt Charlotte's feet hitting the cobblestone path. She didn't gaze at the bright red trolley car, or the people looking anxiously around, like one look could kill. The news had already spread, like a blazing wildfire surrounding her, trapping her in this malicious prison with no escape. Seclusion is my new life and my new passion. I will only wake up to wake up, to see another day not that she wanted to, her new found reticent attitude would conceal her feelings. She had no one to live for. No family (Unless you count snobby old Aunt Charlotte), no friends, and absolutely no will. What would happen to her she thought helplessly? Would she return with the devil to Auckland? Would she go back to Napier to live with her parents close friends? All the answers seemed to be hidden in a dark place where she couldn't find them, so she set her gaze on the horizon and let the trolley car take her forward. On to a new life where no benevolence could thrive. All she wanted to do was lock herself from her heart, not wanting to deal with the emotion swelled inside of her like an oversized balloon, but it wasn't that soft and threatened to tear her life apart and shred her being into nothing but skin and bone that didn't matter, not that anything did. She watched as the tiny buildings grew smaller and smaller behind her, taking her aback. She was just another miniscule black speck on the Earth who didn't matter. Nobody cared about her and for that reason she would separate herself from the rest of the world and live under the thought of concealment.