Purgatory

Chapter 9: The Cursed Day Part 1 (Emilia's POV)

"Expect trouble as an inevitable part of life and repeat to yourself, the most comforting words of all; this, too, shall pass."

-Ann Landers

****

~

I awoke early the next morning to a shiver, finding that somehow the window had been blown open causing leaves to be scattered across the room creating an image of disarray.

"Great this day is already horrible," I whispered as I snuggled with my blanket, savoring a few more minutes in the comfort of the bed.

Opening my eyes, I looked over to my sister and found that she was still asleep and thought that I might as well let her have an hour or two more of peace before she has to wake up to what this cruel day had to offer.

After all it was cursed.

I slowly stood up and avoided the remnants of the wind left on the floor and made myself across the room to the large vanity mirror, behind which I hid my book of lyrics that came to mind. I quickly closed the window, before walking back to my bed with the book in hand and opened it to the newest song that I was calling "Back to you"

I read the lyrics once more, a grin appearing on my lips as I realized what I would write for the ending.

"I trust the signs

so I may find

my way to you,

Back to you,Back to you.

Follow the signs right back to you"

"And then I'll end with a little guitar and it's done. Yes! I finished it", I squealed in excitement.

Maybe this day won't be so bad after all.

"So you finished another song?" I heard my sister ask who seemed as if she was watching me for a while.

"I know your, 'I finished another song,' squeal" She continued.

I chuckled, "Well if you must know, yes I finished a song,"

"What is the use of you writing songs if you aren't going to show them to anybody" Avia questioned with a hint of annoyance in her voice to which I quickly rolled my eyes, "It's for my enjoyment and what's the point of playing guitar when you aren't going to play it for anyone" I retorted and stood up to go to the bathroom- a pitiful attempt to escape where the conversation was headed.

"Touche, sister" Avia replied as she followed me to get ready avoiding the leaves, twigs, and dirt that had made its way into our bedroom without a hint of confusion of where it had come from. There was no need to ask when it was clearly May 25.

***

"Avia, can you fix my hair? I cannot get this braid right" I asked looking at Avia who was engrossed in putting on her lip color – a mess of berries that she had concocted years ago.

"Honestly you cannot do anything yourself" Avia chuckled as she made her way towards me with a brush.

"You're the one who is making us dress like this in the first place" I stated with a huff. I knew that it was all for the allusion that we had planned, but waking up early and putting on such a fuss every year was becoming redundant.