The Girl with Cherry Earrings | ✔

13

I sat alone on the vert ramp, watching as the grey clouds skidded over the dark sky.

She didn't seem to be the type of person to leave me, or anyone, hanging. As a matter of fact, she didn't seem like the type to leave, without explanation, period.

I let out a sigh, leaning back on my elbows.

I've been sitting here for what seemed like hours, waiting for her to show up.

So far, not a single trace of her.

No scarlet sparks.

No blue, red, and white patterned umbrellas.

No dimples.

Nothing.

With every minute that passed by the fear building up in my chest only seemed to grow heavier and heavier.

I mean she would never miss a chance to make a wish right?

I turned my head, letting my eyes wander around the skate park for the millionth time.

Empty.

Was I being too impatient?

Suddenly, I felt a light tap against my shoulder, causing a frigid sensation to sink into the thin fabric of my jacket.

I flinched at the touch, only to find more and more droplets beginning to tap against the thick layers of my clothes.

Pearls of rain began trickling down the strands of my hair, slowly dripping on to the bridge of my nose.

It brought me back to the time when she introduced me to the World of Trouvaille, or as she liked to call it, the amazing accident.

Maybe if I wanted any longer, she would come running out, dancing and spinning in the rain like she always did.

But the thing was, she didn't.

And at that moment I finally decided to take my leave.

***

By the time I had gotten home yesterday morning, it was half past midnight. And quite frankly, I didn't end up falling asleep until two A.M, thinking about none other than her, Wren Eden Burnette.

Admittedly, her name still seemed to roll off my tongue like a word from a foreign language. And whenever it did, a strange wave of unexplainable unease washed over me, kinda like when you swear out loud for the first time, but obviously her name wasn't a swear word, or a bad thing to say the least.

"Vince...? Vince!"

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of Dad's voice.

"What..?" I muttered groggily into my pillow, letting my heavy eyelids close yet again. I shifted in my spot, snuggling back into the comfortable warmth of my bed.

"Be dressed and downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes or the WiFi's going off for the rest of the day," he chirped, the sounds of his footsteps growing distant before suddenly disappearing behind the light click of the closed door.

As if someone dumped a bucket of ice cold water over my head, I abruptly sprang upwards, kicking my blankets over to the opposite end of the bed.

It didn't take long for me to sprint to the washroom, hop into the shower, brush my teeth, and throw on some clothes. Before I knew it, I was rushing down the stairs like a madman, somehow convinced that I took at least a good half an hour. Which only after tripping myself on the second last step and catching a glimpse of the clock hanging just in front of the stairwell mid-fall, that I realized I was about four minutes early.