Beauty in Cinders

CHAPTER 6

Heather could barely see anything through her tears as she packed her bags. Beatrice's voice repeated those dreadful words over and over inside Heather's head, the pain growing more intense with each forceful pound. At one point she had to stop, drawing her breath and collapsing onto her bed to sob. Her father. Gone.

How could this be her life?

"Please," she said quietly into the sheets of her bed, "let this all be a nightmare."

Heather shut her eyes tight. This was something she always did whenever she was having a nightmare – ever since she was a little girl. Whenever things got too scary in her dreams she knew all she had to do was shut her eyes and think about her bed. Suddenly she would feel her body softly land back onto her mattress and she would wake up. Safe and sound.

But this time it wasn't working – this time it was all real.

Scolding herself for being childish, Heather forced herself back up and finished packing. Just as she was starting to leave she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and realized she was still wearing her masquerade gown. Groaning she started to cry again as she quickly slipped out of the dress and opened her suitcase again to grab some normal clothes.

Pull yourself together, she chastised herself, Focus, Heather, focus.

She slipped into black jeans and a blue blouse. She let her hair down and quickly ran her fingers through the dark blonde strands. She shoved the gown into the suitcase without bothering to fold it and zipped her suitcase closed again. Glancing around the room one last time to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, Heather grabbed her two suitcases and quickly left the dorm room.

To hell with her education, to hell with the two papers she had to turn in on Monday. Heather needed to get out of there. She needed to go home and be with her father.

Her dead father.

Heather winced with pain as she stepped out of the building that housed the girl's dormitory. The cool night air hit her face and felt refreshing.

Breathe, Heather, breathe ...

She spotted the cab she called waiting by the street and she started towards it. The pain inside her started to return as if they were a sort of contraction, squeezing her stomach and tightening her heart. As she got into the cab she felt herself begin to start to cry, but she had to choke back her tears long enough to tell the driver to take her to the airport.

Heather sat in the backseat of the cab thinking of happier times in the past, a time where she was still living at home, years before deciding to go away for college. Oh, how Heather wished she had never left now. If she knew she didn't have much longer with her father she would have stayed home, cared for him, and gone to school right there. She wondered if her father thought about her during his last moments and if that added to any fear and sadness he felt. Heather shook her head as a sob escaped from her throat.

"You alright, miss?" the driver said taking a quick look at her through his rearview mirror.

Heather wiped at her tears, quickly nodding. "Fine. Thank you," she told him before lowering in her seat and resting her head against the window. She bit into her knuckles as she quietly continued to cry.

* * *

Derek walked alone throughout the campus. He glanced at a young woman from far away with two suitcases getting into a taxicab. He couldn't make her face out from the dimly lit streets but he found himself staring at her. The moment she got in and the cab pulled away, Derek shifted his eyes upwards to the night sky and he started to think about the girl from the masquerade party. How he wished he would have asked for her name sooner. How could he find her now?