What would you do if you could see your own death in one way or another?
I wagered in my right hand, a shiny thin blade, a gift from a barber. Although the barber hadn’t realized it was a gift intended to take a life. Nonetheless and granted he was unaware that he had given it. In my left hand I had a piece of paper that held the echo of a dream. On the very eve of my arrival to a new town this Omnipresent dream which at this very moment impossibly lingers as I stand here with eyes wide open. The dream began with the barber’s blade across my neck. You see, I
thought… I believed the dream had been swift and kind, beginning and ending on the same note. Although I couldn’t make sense of anyone I knew that begrudged me so to do something so malevolent.
The dream was not finished with me – yet. As I thoroughly went through my checklist of possible suspects with potential motive, my dream demanded that it create a plot twist. The hand that drew blood from my neck with the barber’s blade…was…my…own. The paradox had only manifested from there. Sick and twisted as it had become, I was drawn to see what lied ahead, and so I watched as the dream shifted into new territory.
As though I had absentmindedly skipped a few chapters in a new and unknown novel, I had jumped to my own funeral. My family and closest friends attended. They stood around my pristine casket as the thick flakes of winter’s farewell rested upon me. Tears of sadness drenched the faces I held dear to me. A prayer had met its end with a resounding synchronous of voices somberly speaking the word – Amen. A moment later my well respected father stood near the foot of my casket. He held a thin paper in his well-manicured shaken hands. He then lifted his head to address all who attended.
“My dear family and close friends, I couldn’t leave all of you without having some words of my own to speak. I knew this day would eventually come whether young or old. I once had a dream, a dream where I hovered above this very site and the words my father is speaking to all of you now rings absolute. I wrote these words as I woke from that dream. To my father…”
Once again, I believed the dream had been over. I tended to think the dream rather enjoyed making a mockery out of me by now. Anyway, the dream shifted again. Now I stood in darkness, but not accompanied by silence as I would have assumed. No, in this darkness, I stood with the sounds of at least a hundred wind chimes playing to the beat of the soft wind that blew around me. It was magical even in the darkness. Like a child standing in the rain, I allowed my arms to stretch outward, freely, and rested my head backward. It was such an event that I couldn’t help but twirl carelessly.
That is until the darkness gave way to the light. I winced at first light, it had been too dark to begin with, my eyes had to adjust. As my eyes had cleared from one extreme measure to another, I found that the wind chimes hadn’t ceased at all. I rubbed my eyes and looked up where the magic was happening and I abruptly stopped breathing. For good reason I assure you. I could clearly see that they weren’t wind chimes at all. They were thousands of forks. Dangling precariously above my head.
My first thought was, what kind of dream was this? That was until I realized something of significance. I felt the barber’s blade in my right hand and my last words at my own funeral in my left. Last but not least, and quite profound was the forks. I was to arrive in my new hometown the following day. The town’s name is Forks, Forks Washington.
I perceived the dream as clue’s to whatever would happen to me in this new town. If this meant I would die by my own hands or someone else’s, I didn’t have any idea. All I know is this. My name is Bella and I have two options, the one in my right or the one in my left. Neither of the two had made sense. Having taken my first step in this town called Forks, I was determined to find out the answers to both. No matter the obstacles I face, I do know this much. I will die. I just don't know how or why.
If you could kindly leave a comment if you think I should continue on, I would greatly appreciate it. Your friend, Amelia. Also, please do tell what you think. Thanks!
Any thoughts from anyone?
Thanks Isabella! I think I will continue with this. However, I will be changing the name of the story to A Winter's Farewell, so be sure to look for that. Thanks so much for your kind words.
Chapter Two: The Spirit of Lucy
My first day in my new home was grandeur of course with my mother finalizing every last detail of the exterior. She couldn’t wait to get me here after the last few months. I felt established now as I turned eighteen four months ago. Before my eighteenth birthday I had helped in the fight for women’s rights. Before we left our old home, I was able to vote, a feat my mother always wanted for me. It was a special time for us, one that we could be proud of and I used that momentum to strengthen my future plans. Although I had no plans set in stone quite yet, I was still observing my options, this upset my father. He strives on knowing exactly what he was going to do. He was very sure of his abilities to move forward where I was not. My mother called me a bird; swift to move in any direction that the wind carried me.
It was near the end of nineteen twenty, fifteenth of December. The air was crisp, snow blanketed the earth gently. As I stood on the veranda adjacent to my room looking down to the courtyard, I was struck with an image of my late sister. She was as delicate as a flower and she wilted away too soon as the Spanish flu took her. My parents and I tried everything we could to keep her spirits lifted. Our way of combating the disease, but in the end it was out of our control. She has been gone for two years now, but I’ve never went a day without thinking of her as I am now overlooking the courtyard. She would have loved the courtyard. She loved the snow and she…
“Bella sweetie, would you be a dear and help me decide…”
My mother would never learn that the subtle tap on the door would be appreciated before entering a room. She had no boundaries when it came to her children. I turned quickly to her voice and I tried to change my mood before she noticed the disdained appearance on my face. I was too late. She came to me suddenly with a warm hug, a very worried warm hug and then pulled me away to look at me.
“You were thinking of Lucy, weren’t you?”
I swear she could read my thoughts. I didn’t want to talk about it, so I simply shrugged and kept my eyes to the floor. I knew she would want me to look at her, but I just…couldn’t. It still hurt as it had two years ago. I knew this kind of pain would never go away. She was my best friend and that would never change. My mother could see that I couldn’t discuss my beloved sister at the moment, so she whispered when there was no need for it,
“I love you Bella. I’ll let you settle before dinner.”
She walked away quietly after a light kiss on my forehead and closed my door, leaving me to mourn my own way. I couldn’t have been more grateful.
That’s all I have for now. This chapter had no need to go further. I wanted to highlight the years and Lucy with the Spanish Flu. So I hope you can all notice at least a hint of where I’m going with this for now. Please let me know what you think so far. Comments are very much appreciated.
Seems like Bella has a lot of sadness stemming from her tragic past, but she also has things that she look forward to, like a new beginning in a new town. The dreams she had the previous night are very disturbing, though. I wonder what it means.
PS: What happened to The Coming of Changes that you started to write in 2012?
very good update! great story so far...can't wait to read your next update!