In Living Memory

Prologue

Prologue

As the waves crash up against the rocks, the white foam spraying everywhere, my sister takes my hand.

I don't look at her. I'm watching the birds in the sky, swooping down to the water and then back up into the orange sky.

The sky is on fire. The sun's fire has spread across the whole sky. And the sea can't do anything to put it out. The sea just . . . lies there, the blue water rippling. And occasionally it reflects the sky's beauty.

For the first time in the whole sixteen years of my life, I realise that the sea and the sky represent Carmen and me. Carmen's the fiery, passionate, ever changing one. She can be stormy and she can affect me, like the sky's reckless winds can affect the sea. Then it can be calm, and soothing, to the sea. Occasionally I reflect her personality, her aura, her picture. Only when there is any warmth or light in her, like the sea reflects the sun.

"Angelica," she whispers. Her wet hand is gripping mine tightly now, and we're both standing bare foot on the slippery rocks, shivering.

My hair blows around my face. Its tickling feels like assault at this very moment. I angrily wrench my hand away from hers, then push all my wild, tangled red hair behind my ear and rake a trembling hand through it, turning away from her to look back at the house.

"Why did you follow me out here?" My voice trembles with annoyance. Hurt. Disbelief. Insecurity. Things she has never felt.

I don't hear her say anything. Good. I don't want to hear her excuses.

I start to walk away, with my head bowed down at the ground, making sure I creep along the wet rocks carefully. I pick up a long thread of purple seaweed and then chuck it into the water as another explosion of seawater smashes against the rock. It then dies down with my anger, and I settle down on a flat rock, staring out at the setting sun.

Carmen and I are nothing alike. Yeah, sure, sometimes I can be like her. But I only copy her to make my own life easier at the present situation. First off, she's stubborn. She gets her own way every single damn time. I just go with the flow. I'm the sea, remember? She doesn't care what people think. I do. She's fearless. She can rage and shout like there's no tomorrow. I prefer to just curl up in the corner and try to forgive people, and forget, but I never manage to forget.

Carmen has dark brown hair with soft, gentle luscious waves, and bright green eyes, with caramel toned skin. High cheekbones. Long legs.

And then there's me, with my wild, tangled red hair with unruly curls, and dark blue eyes which only shine when the opticians examine them with a torch. I have creamy coloured skin, an oval shaped face, and I am the smallest out of all my friends.

How did this happen?

But none of that is her fault, of course it isn't. The thing that I blame her for is the pact she made with me.

Why make a pact if you can't keep it?

"You promised me you wouldn't leave. Ever." My voice has no emotion to it.

I hear her sniff and she starts to walk towards me, unsteady on her feet. I don't look at her. If she's going to leave, I don't want to go through emotional goodbyes and long drawn out conversations. I just want to walk away from her and don't look back until she's gone. Out of the country, out of my life. And then I will take an attempt to live as normal.