Hidden Whispers

d a n i e l // 4

The neighbourhood was unnaturally quiet today. Coming home yesterday from my school, I saw the people and Jenna Mason talking to the police.

It was something completely blunderous, like out of the mind crazy. Such a suicide never happened here in Glenville. Why would Sasha do that to herself?

I heard mom telling dad that she never really liked Sasha and whatever happened was for the best because she was never a good person to look up to. Shits.

They did not even know her like I used to. Mostly because of a person I wanted to know, and also because I babysat her two year old son Matt and her 5 year old daughter Kylie.

Sasha was the most down to Earth person I ever came across. She sang while combing her wet hair, cooked great food, was a wonderful artist who gave perfect judgement to colours and brushes, and an amazing mother and aunt. People wanted to be like her, get her life.

Coming out of my house, I brushed my hair sideways. Won't there be any more art galleries? Or romantic songs coming from a wonderful house? Or quick little parties and mouth watering smell of coffee-flavoured and coconut cookies?

Will it all be over?

I started shaking. She meant a lot more to me than most. She was the mother I never had. And also, she was the reason I found Fayne.

They lived beside us. And I heard faint music coming from the garage. Advancing slow, tip-toed footsteps, I peeked into their compact and currently empty garage room.

Fayne sat there, with a diary and a pen, scribbling stuff like she always did. Her dark wavy hair dropped down all over her face. Her fingers were messy, ink-filled. Probably a pen leaked.

Fayne turned towards the entrance and I immediately hid behind a bush. She can't see that I was there, or else she'd suspect something.

Probably she didn't, because the next time I popped my head in, she was back to whatever she was writing.

She was the loner of the neighbourhood. No one really gave a damn to her, because she was unreasonably quiet. But she was static and stone cold too. Like, she fucking didn't bulge when they found out her aunt died.

How cold can a person be? I was 18 and even I cried. What was wrong with her?

But still, there was something about her which drew me towards her. Maybe because she looked like she hid many things. Many secrets still unresolved.

Moving away from the house, I reduced my curiosity for Fayne to bare minimum. Or at least tried to.

Walking away from her house towards the Lakewood Park, the kids' playground and the teens' lovemaking zone, I started thinking.

Not many people like Sasha. Mostly because she has the perfect family. She is beautiful too. So what if it it not a suicide but a homicide? What if someone purposefully killed her?

But doing this out of mere jealousy was too much. Maybe she did something in the past? Vendetta?

I shook my head. The birds whirled above, trying to find a new music to dance to. The weather was really cold. Although the sun was high up, flakes of thick white snow sprayed here and there. It was kind of pleasing, walking on the road with tall dark trees, thick white snow and a lighted pathway. All alone, where no one can find me.

The Lakewood Park sign hung low on the gate. It was disheveled. Parts of the letters faded away, and there was loneliness in the park. Before the death of Sasha, people used to hang around in the park, children used to play, couples used to spend time together. But for these two days, there has been nothing but fake sadness and hidden joy. People have changed during the seventeen years of my existence. Now, people fake and lie.

I pushed open the gate of the park and made my way in. There were a number of people who have moved away and the person whom I miss the most was Claire. She was so nice and acted like my elder sister. Then, when I was seven, she ran away from her house. Mom told me that she was a bad girl and that she deserved to get out of Glenville.

People always prey on those who become vulnerable and do some kind of mistake. But when they are strong enough to strike back, majority take back a step. Cowards.

Walking towards the middle of the park I sat down on the bench which I first saw. The cold wood sent shivers down my back. Looking sideways, my eyes flickered towards a shiny jewellery hidden inside a pile of snow.

Reaching out towards it, I pulled it out, revealing a gold chain with a heart as the locket. Seeing that it could be opened, I tried to open it and did so, but someone immediately held it close tightly, stopping me to see what's inside.

"That's mine. I'm sorry, I dropped it," the woman smiled. She was in her mid-twenties, and was wearing a suede trench coat. Her long blonde hair swayed in the soft wind and her ice eyes hypnotized me. She was dazzling.

"Oh.. um okay. Here you go." I handed her the necklace. "How come I never saw you before?"

"Oh well, I'm just visiting. I needed a quiet vacation and here I am," she explained.

"When exactly did you come here?" I inquired.

"About a day ago.. why?" She asked back.

"No, nothing. Just asking. Well, it was nice meeting you. Take care, I gotta run," I stood up, furrowing my eyebrows.

She nodded and smiled slightly but it faded away immediately as I walked across her towards the exit of the park. From the corner of my eyes, I could see her opening the necklace and then sighing, softly kissing it. She became stone cold.

With a hard face, I walked away. I was sure enough of what I saw inside the heart. And my eyes can't be mistaken.

There was a picture of fifteen years old Claire inside the locket.

_________

♡