Legend of the Sky Guardians

My mother told me when I was young,

“Life is like walking the tightrope.”

I never really understood what she meant. Of course, I knew what a tightrope was, but I couldn’t see how the two went together. But as I tell you my story, one of many you haven’t yet heard, you will see that this is one of the truest things you will ever come to realize.

I sat down on a park bench near the river, the sounds of nature scattered about. I looked around, and for a moment everything stopped. Time was undeniably still. Letting go of the day’s stress, I began to think.

This is my favorite place, because it’s away from everything. Away from rude peers, loud teachers, and the general commotion of everyday life.

The trees roots ripple throughout the gravel road and their leaves cover the sky, so only the slightest cracks of sunlight gaze down upon me. The river flows softly, adding slightly to the calming sound of the wind blowing through the tree branches.

I sometimes wonder if I am the only one who appreciates these subtle things. This place is so beautiful, yet no one ever passes by. It’s just me, alone with my thoughts, and the sounds of nature.

The sun begins to set on the horizon behind me, and I stand up and begin to leave. I have to go back.

Back to River Cross Boarding School. I live in the girls dorms, a long building filled with nicely cleaned up rooms and a vast majority of expensive furniture.

Hurrying back I ran inside. The sun was gone by the time I arrived. The cool chills of the autumn winds made me shiver as I rushed in. Hearing the heavy door close behind me, I took in the warmth of the building.

I let my hands run along the dark red walls as I quickly walked through the dimly lit hallway.  I grabbed a novel to read from the dusty old bookshelves along the way. My shoes made a loud sound as I walked on the hardwood flooring, and as I become aware of this, I start to walk slower, as to try and not wake anyone.

As I reached my room, I threw my books onto my desk, pushed my long blonde hair out of my face, and collapsed onto the soft bed, exhausted.

This is my life. I live here at the school, not seeming to care as the days fly by, the precious moments I should be treasuring, I ignore. It all started last year. When my mother died.

I had grown up in a split home, living with just my mother, my father nowhere to be seen. When I asked where he’d gone, mother would just say

“He never really cared.”

Though I knew in my heart there was more to the story, I never bothered to ask.

Elementary school was fine, I fit in and had friends whom I knew I could trust. Or, at least as much trust as you need in fourth grade. Last year, three days before I turned fourteen, my mother was killed in a car accident. By the time the police arrived, the people who hit her had fled, leaving foul play a huge suspicion. When I was asked about my mother, I tried very hard to answer with few words.

It’s that one dream you never hope comes true. And yet it does.

When they found my father, they told me to go with him, but before I’d even met him, he sent me here.

It still bugs me not knowing who he really is. All I know is that he obviously doesn’t want to be with me.

Here I am strange. Here I am an outcast. Here I am too different to be bothered with, that one girl who just doesn’t seem to care.

Yesterday was my fifteenth birthday. No one sang for me.

I walked through the muddy grass, my shoes slipping and sliding as I went along. The sun is out now, but it must have rained earlier.