The Invisible Silver Lining [CURRENTLY BEING EDITED]

Chapter 1

RE-EDITED.

-CFF

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It all happened quite suddenly, as deaths normally do. This is what emptiness is supposed to feel like, right? I leave the hospital in silence. What emotions are normal for this kind of situation? Even though I am grieving, I don't want to let my tears out in the middle of the street. Give me the stillness of a secret place. I hear a honk, from some rude driver that wants me to get out of their way. As I finish walking across the street, my mind is other matters.

I want to go somewhere that I can let the arising flood of tears flow without interruptions. My periwinkle eyes look up to see the sun, settling own for the night behind the nature park that I am facing. Its descent turns the Los Angeles sky magenta pink with a dash of tangerine orange. Even though my heart has love for the sunsets, my state of grief is too much for me to fully enjoy the magnificent sight.

I pull my beige beanie further down over my ears, until it covers the earbuds settled in my ears. They've been pushing out the noise of songs since I left the hospital room. What song is playing through them now? I've stopped paying attention. It's just a blaze of noise now. Once I reach the park entrance I begin to run, lost in thoughts and beats. My bangs bounce with each step and I don't care to push the auburn locks away. My eyes begin to be blurred with tears I can longer hold back. 

Thoughts fly to those of my family, significant details of each member coming to mind. First off, the man who I am nearly identical to in personality, my father. Unlike myself, he has sea-green eyes that stand out brilliantly against his hair. Which is blonde, though it shows only lightly through his buzz cut. Father has to keep it extremely short, to meet the requirements of his job; working at one of Los Angeles' prison wards, as a case manager. Completely very careful to keep his job, of course. Not because he's a bad worker, but because the economy has a funny way of giving jobs and taking them away.

Father is a hard worker to be sure, a trait he passed on to me. Over the years I've realized he passed quite a few traits to me. When it comes to work, Dad does everything he can do to make a good impression on his bosses and keep that impression. While his current occupation doesn't pay excess amounts of money, it is enough. The Thorns are not a wealthy family, but they are not a desperate one either. Lower middle class is still a thing.

I look up to my dad, he is very important to me. All of my family is.  Brushing my hair aside again from my face again, it makes me think of my mom's. Hers is cut in a short pixie cut just like mine. However, thanks to genes, her pitch black locks are silky. Much different than my fluffy, layered style. Mom's chocolate eyes are usually full of mirth as she homeschools my younger sister Elizabeth, or whatever else comes naturally, like singing.

Mom is a fantastic singer, a family gene actually. Elizabeth is the one who gained all of that skill. Liz also received Mom's beautiful flowing locks, though Liz is a blonde. Little Liz carries many family skills, though she prefers to train them through homeschooling. As for me,  I had just graduated from a public high school. Once graduation rolled around, I presented my hard-earned grades to my dream college. The University of Southern California. And miracle of miracles, I had recently received my acceptance letter from the school, saying I would be allowed to enroll there in the fall. Imagine my excitement.

But even that happy thought cannot distract me from my aching heart for long. I look up to see the end of the path my feet had traveled down from habit. I come to this place so often. To be alone, utterly in silence to think without interruptions. Honestly, I consider this to be my place even though it is located on public property. But no one really comes here, at least no one that I've seen. Such a thing makes this place mine in a way, right? The first time I saw it, the place had been completely covered in garbage. People's carelessness makes me frustrated beyond belief. Is it so hard to pick up after oneself? Since no one seemed up to the task, I took it upon myself. After a week or so of cleaning the park up, and doing so each time I entered the beautiful place, it looked like the way I see it now.