I closed my eyes briefly, flashes of my mother streaming before my eyes, and sporting a pair of eyes just like my own. I just knew that she would have been able to handle this. How to deal with the odd things that happened to me and the weird vibe in Village Worth. I just fucking knew it.
Well, that’s the story I tell myself. The tale that I spun. Isn’t it funny how long we can live in ignorance? We tell ourselves we want to take this adventure, that if we were in ‘his or her’ shoes we would have taken the leap…but this was my actual life, and as far as I was concerned, it was the only one I had right now. So instead, I did nothing and tried to ignore it until I could get away. Except, I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be ignored for long. I could feel it wanting to show itself. Violently.
I nearly sighed in relief as my stepmother stood up, cueing me into the fact that our briefing was over. My coffee was finished but my breakfast had been essentially left untouched. I usually didn’t have much of an appetite once Denise began talking about what was expected of me for the week. Expectations make my stomach uneasy.
Plus, I was trying to keep thin, or appear to be ‘dieting’ around Denise, and hanging onto the concept like a lifeboat. Oh, don’t think it’s about self-image either. Hell, I thought I would look good with about ten pounds on, especially if it went to my butt. But I didn’t need Denise to get on my ass (literally!), about that either. I was thin enough that she hadn’t put me on a diet, like Alice. It was ridiculous, since Alice, like her twin, was rail thin.
So I didn’t eat around Denise and she didn’t say anything. The last thing I needed was her micromanaging my meals. I had tried to talk to my sister about it, and she had shrugged her shoulders as if it was expected and normal. So I didn’t push it. It’s not like we were very close to begin with.
Without a word, I walked to the enclosed back porch and slipped on a dark jacket, my rain boots already on my feet. The fresh open air cooled my face and I inhaled, loving the scent of the roses from our grand garden up ahead. I loved the weather like this. It revitalized me as if I was a plant.
My eyes trailed over the forest that lined our massive stone estate that rose above the damp earth by nearly four stories. The estate had been settled here longer than the modern pavement and road that led to our stone laid driveway. In fact, our estate was the oldest in Village Worth.
Village Worth was set up a bit differently than most towns. The center was filled with the cute coffee shops and a large library you would expect. However, the main feature of the town was the historic district.
There were three other ‘gated communities’ within the streets of Village Worth, but ours was the historic district, so all the surrounding houses were older as well. Apparently, my mother’s family had owned this land and sold it to a developer a hundred or so years ago. I had no idea how much of that was accurate but I did know where we lived was considered important. It made us the very focal point of this small dot on the map. We legit had tourists who often came by, looking at our house because it was the exact geographical center of the United States of America. Obnoxious? Yes.
It was a pain in the ass to live somewhere like this. But we had large gated fences surrounding us, so I could ignore the tour buses that passed by. I couldn’t really complain, because they also went through the other three communities, each showcasing different periods of architectural development of this town.
Besides the communities, there was Village Worth Preparatory Academy where I attended school and the attached primary school. It was that simple. I knew these streets like the back of my hand. It was suffocating sometimes and I couldn’t wait to explore the larger world out there. It was practically beckoning me forth, a siren’s call that was impossible to ignore.
Interrupting my thoughts of traveling, a flash of a concept ran through my head but I swept it away. I remembered my mother telling me once that the entire house would be mine one day. I had no idea if she had meant literally…I mean my father would have told me something like that, right? I wasn’t positive that I wanted to give up the property so easily. Then again, I wasn’t positive it was worth the battle to stay.
It was more than that though. All of this, with my stepmother and absent father, felt wrong. To be honest, the entire scenario with my mom, my father, and Denise was an oddity that I thought about more than I cared to admit. I didn’t want to point fingers, but if I was going to, I would point it right at how fucking weird it was that he remarried so quickly. I mean it hadn’t even been a full year! If he had been the recipient of her will…that would explain how he and Denise were living so cushy.
I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts again. I didn’t need to go down this rabbit hole. Honestly, I wanted to know as little as possible about my ‘family.’ At least that was what I told myself, but thoughts plagued me constantly at night.
In less than a few months I would be gone, and I planned to be one of the few members of my graduating class to attend University. I had always found that pattern weird within itself because our academy was so successful at forming brilliant students…yet no one left to go to college. It was just ‘normal’ to stay and work in town. I wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with that but it was odd. Maybe it was that lack of pressure to get into a college that made them all such good students?
Didn’t matter either way in the end to me. I was leaving. I had been accepted into Trinity University, in Ireland, for Linguistics. I didn’t want to brag, but I was a fairly talented human being. Sure, I had a few more tattoos than most students at my school, I was blunt, and didn’t always put up with bullshit…but I was also a gifted equestrian competitor, a fantastic harpist, and I knew twelve languages. So screw anyone who wanted to say that I was a black sheep of the family. Last time I checked, my future was looking pretty bright.
By the way, if you were wondering: English, French, Italian, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, Hindi, Swahili, Portuguese, and sign language. Okay, so the last one wasn’t spoken, but still, you get my point. I knew shit. Plus, on top of all that, it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss me around here.
One aspect of my childhood that I remembered pretty well was how alive our estate used to feel. The elaborate hand-painted ceilings and crafted molding, candles that burned warmly at night, and expensive plush furniture that I could fall into after a day of playing outside.
My favorite memory? The soft flute and harp music that used to play all throughout the day and the delicate smell of roses from the garden floating in through my nursery window. I shouldn’t have been able to remember that and maybe it wasn’t real.
Maybe I did that to justify why I disliked the house now.
Shadowed, dark, and filled with sadness. That was why I spent so much time outside, because no matter if there was snow on the ground or it was burning hot…the garden always had year-round roses. Which obviously wasn’t normal.
It was beautiful though, blood-red and nearly black velvet roses, that highlighted the lush thick green of the large tall walls of the maze that expanded west of our estate. The entrance of the maze was led into by a path of the delicate flowers, and they arched over the entrance, hanging almost like blood dripping from the thorny stems. This was my escape. This was my connection to life.