The Impersonator

Prologue~

I edited the plot again and decided that everything will be much clearer with a prologue. One more thing, pardon me if I RARELY update this story. School sucks.

Here it goes. 

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Kristine's POV

My memory of that day is a blur. I was too young. And too devastated.

The house had been so busy these past days. A bunch of visitors come and go, offering their condolences and warm comforts. The whole time I locked myself in my room-sitting in my four-poster bed, with the prettiest Barbie dolls I have beside me.

It was raining outside. Little droplets of water from the sky never seemed to cease falling. A gloomy aura filled everyone's senses. And yet I made myself believed that my tears alone can flood the entire city of Chester.

The white dress hugged my shapeless body tightly. Its laces went down on my knees. My stepmother is surely on the other room; curling her already perfect hair. Her cheeks were blushing pink and her lips were bloody red the last time  saw her. I wondered how did she manage to stay beautiful and presentable depite of everything that was happening.

The funeral started with the priest talking about the afterlife. He said that death is only the beginning of something better. I was staring at the dark sky for a long time until it was my turn to already give my eulogy.

My mind was on a crazy spin; a complete whirl of thoughts I cannot scream out. I could barely keep myself together. Stupid tears were welling up in my eyes. My feet brought me in front of hundered of people; half of them I was never acquainted with. Standing rather proudly in a podium, I struggeled at the tips of my toes to reach the microphone. Men were dressed in gray formal suits and women were in their elegant blouses. A lot of them I'd never seen. A few I recognized as friends and a couple of them are our relatives. I looked at each and everyone's faces. They looked back at me-a seven-year old freckled girl, all-broken inside, but pushing herself through her comfort zone to be composed.

"Do you wat to say something?" the priest hesitated.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I got muted. I was empty; not capable of giving anything anymore. I felt sick. It was like eating a wrong food and getting yoyr stomach upset. It was just that a stomachache has a cure.

"I love you dad", I blurted out, my vouice the loudest in days. the words slipped off of me so sudden as I let my tears oozed down my face. Bulks of contained emotion spilled with four simple words. Four syllables that mean the world to me. A sentence so cliche' but sounds so right. A common expression that drowned all of me.

I walked back to my seat. And after an hour, my father was all gone.

It was still raining, but I didn't mind. It was all too much to bear. Every murmur of goodbye from the visitors to my father sent shivers to my spine. Breathing became difficult. And I felt the urge to escape. Away from here.

To run.

I ran past down the streets of Cheshire, wet and cold. Mud was on my soes and my hair was dripping. My hair was in a loosened braid and locks of my brunette hair covered my face. My legs were tired from the sprint; they lost the energy they got just seconds ago. I found myself in a dead-end.

Garbage cans were everywhere. A homeless man was in a corner. Stray dogs marked their territories. I sat on the moist ground, never giving a care about my white dress being stained. That was it.

I sobbed. Dad said crying eases the pain. But I guess he never knew at all.

Dead-end.  The exact point where you have nowhere else to go. And just like the wall that separates me from whatever is behind, my father and I were set apart by a damn thin line between life and death. I embraced myself with my pale, frail arms.

"Are you crying?" a little voice interrupted my emotional trail. I turned my head to find a curly-haired boy frowning at me, holding an umbrella. I paid no attention to him. I was always like that. I pushed people away from me; I don't want to share the misery.

"But you'll be sick. And your Mum will be so worried", the boy crouched beside me, leaving his umbrella down. "Did someone make you cry?" his hot fingers touched my cold cheeks, wiping the tears away, then putting a lock of my hair behind my ear.

My lips were trembling. Probably my whole body was. Before I knew it, the boy was hugging me. His hands were on my back and it soothed me a bit.

"Hush now. Please don't cry", he shushed me. The gesture lasted for minutes and for the first time after my terrible loss, I felt safe.

The kid smiled at me, showing his cute dimples. I smiled back. He came closer. I couldn't remember if I really closed my eyes but I was certain that I froze when his lips met mine.

His eyes shone like green lights against my plain brown ones. He flashed me a goofy grin and took me in an embrace again. For a while I thought I was in a fairytale. That I was Cinderealla and he was my Prince Charming. That i was a damsel in distress and he was my Knight in Wet Sweatshirt with a Donald Duck print On It. 

But I was all wrong.

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There it goes. Haha this is like my second revision of this prologue! Haha I'll uodate soon. Real soon babes :) Please be patient with me! xx