2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter thirteen

*♡  Ellie ♡*

Last night, a blizzard blanketed Faroaks and its surroundings. Since I couldn't sleep, I watched watched the world slowly disappear. It was a long, long night.

My fleece-lined winter boots leave deep footprints in the freshly fallen snow while I walk through the woods. The weather is clear now, but it's freezing, so I zip up my parka up a little more to keep the cold out. Even though the nature trail is close to town, it gives me the solitude I've been looking for.

Six days ago, Jonathan moved to San Francisco. I helped him pack, both of us sullen over my decline to come with him. I tried to sound resolute when I told him I couldn't join him but while I carried carton boxes to the van, I wondered how it would be to pack my own bags. How would it be to make a deliberate move instead of a panicked run? My parents would've had the chance to give me a proper hug. They'd appreciate that. I imagined the journey but in my mind, I always ended up in Los Angeles.

The path I usually follow isn't visible due to the snowfall. I know the way, though. A little further up ahead is a semi-open spot with a stream running through it.

In hopes of distracting my mind, I decided to give wildlife photography a shot. Though, wildlife in this region consists mostly of hares, squirrels and the occasional fox. Nothing too exciting. Admittedly, the variety of bird does excite me. I got a little obsessed with capturing them with my camera. Why? Because I'm a fruit cake.

The chickadees, sparrows and finches have proven to be excellent models. The busy woodpecker even more so. Today, though, I'm on the hunt for one special bird. It's been elusive ever since it caught my eye. Every time, just when I click the button, it flies away and disappears. It's maddening.

Where are you little friend? The stream is full of fishies so you must be close. I duck behind a bush and hide behind the cover of evergreen leaves. Come on, birdie, stop playing games and show yourself. Melted snow wets my knees while I wait and wait.

Any minute now ...

Yes!

The kingfisher lands on a low-hanging branch. I manage to keep my squeal behind closed lips and take picture after picture while it dives into the icy water. A moment later, it returns to its spot on the branch with a tiny fish in its beak. Drops of water coat its blue feathers, glistening in the rays of sun that creep through the canopied trees.

When it flies off again, I smile at the pictures I took. They're good, if I say so myself. Sharp and clear. The blue hue almost resembles the color of the tattoo I have on my wrist.

Just like that, my smile falls. What am I doing? Chasing birds in the dead of winter for the sole reason of feeling a little connected to Tex is not a life. It's insanity. I don't want to be in the woods all by my lonesome.

I glance around. Oh, darn it. How late is it? The days are short and I didn't keep an eye on the time. Sundown is on the rise, stealing light with every passing minute. I hurry back, exhaling misty clouds, but it all seems unfamiliar. Where is that funny-looking tree I used for orientation? I fish my phone from my pocket and open the navigation app ... no service.

Stupid new phone. It's been unreliable from the moment I bought it. Granted, I didn't do any research for the obvious reason that I was delirious. In hindsight, it wasn't a smart move to destroy my phone and cancel my number. I was just so shaken up with everything that went down in Los Angeles, I figured it would be best to eliminate all possibilities of reaching out to Tex.

Did he try to call me?

Guilt weighs heavy on my chest. Of course, he did. I left haphazardly and with sheer reckless abandon. Does he understand why? Was the note I wrote him clear enough? Doubt infects my reasoning. Maybe I made a mistake ... one of many.