Of Legends and Innocence

Chapter 4

Author's Note: Okay, first off I would like to apologize for the short chapters, this one is a lot longer, and I promise to do my best to keep them that way.

Now, I have had almost sixty reads and three votes, but only two comments. I would really like to know if you care about my story. Too fast paced? Did I put something in that didn't seem like it belonged? I would like all of the input I can get.

But on a happy note: Thanks to all of you who are reading my story, I really appreciate it. And thanks to those who have commented. I love the amazing reviews and it is to YOU (you know who you are) that I dedicate this chapter! You have no idea how happy you have made me!

That said, please enjoy my story and let me know how you like it. Remember, the happier I am, the faster I update! So: Comment? Vote? Fan?

All my love,

Heather

Chapter 4

The cool breeze was the cleanest she had ever tasted. Odd, to think of something as mundane as a gust of cold air to have a taste, she knew, but she did. It smelled so crisp and clean as it passed over her skin that she could taste it on her tongue.

She had never experienced anything like it. It was almost as if it were reaching inside her as she inhaled and was pulling out all of the smog and pollution she had ever breathed in her lifetime.

A giggle escaped her lips at this thought and a moment later she slapped a hand over her mouth to stop it. Guilt crashed over her in a

wave. Not because of the laugh, but because for a few blissful moments she had forgotten.

Ever since she had sat down on this flat-topped rock, kicked off her shoes and braved slipping her toes in this icy cold lake, it had been nothing but a distant memory.

Chloe blinked her eyes furiously, preventing the onslaught of tears that threatened to fall. It had become a force of habit to force back her tears, and she did it even now when there was no one around to see her cry. Not unless she counted her reflection.

How could she forget, even for a moment? Her mother had been gone for not even two weeks. And three days in Ireland and it seemed harder and harder to stay depressed. What kind of daughter was she?

Sights of emerald green rolling hills and the grieving sighs disappeared. A glimpse of a white mare running in the distance... grief... gone. The shock of icy water and the brush of a clean breeze... memories... gone.

Three days in Ireland and she felt like a different person, as if this were her home and California had only been a dream.

Horrible. That was what she was. Horrible.

Reaching down beside her, Chloe pulled her tattered and faded red messenger bag into her lap. The ends of the flap were frayed and it was patched with mismatched material in several different places. But as beat up as it was, she had never been able to bring herself to throw it out or replace it with a new one.

Her mother had pulled it out of her closet when Chloe had been only eight and thrown it in a junk pile of things to be thrown away. At the time, the bag had been in almost perfect condition and had sported little silver charms that had dangled and sparkled in the light as they moved and Chloe had fallen instantly in love with it. It had taken several minutes of begging before she had been allowed to keep it. And ever since that day, it had held the same things: a couple of sketchbooks, a journal, and several handfuls of pens and pencils.

The charms had long since fallen off and had been replaced with small doodles of flowers and butterflies drawn in a childish hand. Chloe couldn't count the number of times her mother had sat up repairing some hole or another after Chloe had refused to throw it away. The ends of her fingers played with the newest patch made with an orange and pink striped piece of fabric that had been sewn in place only a few weeks before. Even sick and so week she could barely stand, her mother had continued to mend the old, stained worn out bag.