Chapter One

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Just on the opposite side of this bridge was where I had my first heartbreak.

It was quite pathetic really. You know, one of those silly freshman relationships? That. He was a few months younger than me, incidentally, but everyone always said it showed with how immature he was. In the end, he just said, "I think it's best if we end. I want to spend time with my friends." And that was that. He walked off as soon as he'd uttered the heart-wrenching words and left me standing there feeling quite bizarre.

Now there was another couple on the opposite side. The girl didn't appear too best pleased with whatever her boyfriend had declared to her. She had a rather impassive expression on her face as he said, "Ava, you know it's not like how it was said."

He had reached out to grasp her cheeks lightly to get her to stare back at him. She let him.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away. I wasn't into all that sappy malarkey. Too much trouble than it's worth.

But now it was a serene place – if you overlooked the evidently tragic ordeal that went on for those five minutes when my ex-boyfriend and I congregated there. Underneath this bridge was the River Penelope. The story behind it was quite depressing, because back when Bellmere – our pleasant town brimming with stories and hearsay and theatrical dramas – was first discovered, a woman died on the first night that occupants stayed here. Her name was Penelope, and that gave it its name. No one knows what happened to her still. The assumption is that she tripped and hit her head as she fell into the river and then subsequently drowned, or she was murdered and abandoned.

Either one is a possibility.

Vivid colours of flowers would typically fledge the riverbank, but with it being October now, there weren't many, and those that were there were dying slowly. The grass was kept rather well, on the other hand, as our council prided itself on our town. And despite the chill that October seemed to be in company with, kids were splashing about jauntily in at the edge of the river where there was a shallow section just off from the bridge. There was even a pathway underneath the bridge, but that was something to evade.

Rumours had it that drug deals would transpire in the shadows and people would lurk there, poised and pugnacious, waiting for their prey to come innocently strolling under the bridge once they've had a little too much to drink and aren't thinking straight enough to avoid going that perilous path.

But I was a photography student, and I had a flair for a "clean background" in which you'd focus on the overall scenario of the shot; not the specifics like someone tying their shoelaces in the background or smiling at someone or even someone checking someone else out.

So, my camera was perched on top of the wonky, concrete bridge, and I was angling it different ways without bothering to look at the screen to view the photo I was taking. I was even leaning over the edge of the bridge so I could get the shadows underneath the bridge in view.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. With one last snapshot of the view to the right of me, I abandoned my camera on the edge and retrieved my phone from my pocket. As expected, considering I don't speak to many people electronically, it was Max – short for Maxine – my best friend badgering me about my absence from school.

Max: Come back!!!!!! Annabelle just started making out with Ryder and yuck!!!!!

Smiling to myself knowing this was typical of Max to keep me updated like this with ten-too many exclamation marks. She was being the third wheel with Ryder and Annabelle back at school as I had missed out on lunch, so I hastily shoved my phone back in my pocket, turned off my camera and stuffed it in my school bag. I made it back to school with fifteen minutes to spare, so I made my way to the library at once texting Max to meet me there.

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