AUDREY
It was half term in Rowell Academy. Although most people choose to return home, Rowell Academy keeps its doors open for those who wish to stay or even those who wish to pop in every so often.
Like most other people, I went home, well, I was forced to go home. After the wedding, I resumed avoiding Sebastian. I had to focus on the completing my part of the deal. I was so close, so close to reaching my end goal. I was afraid of what would happen afterwards, but I couldn't let that get in my way.
So here I sit, in my armchair by the window, sipping my tea. Like other rich families properties, acres of land stretched before us. All of our properties look the same when you see enough of them, it's what's behind that gives you insight into our lives. Most had tennis courts, swimming pools, stables and eventually it all repeats over and over. Even the famous and rich are stuck in a never-ending cycle of following the crowd. Though our talents and ideas may be unique, our homes are not.
Outside, on the wide plane of green grass, Margo cantered on Amaryllis, her horse. My mother sat poised in a lawn chair, surrounded by her friends. They threw back their heads in laughter, one of them probably said something hilarious in her string of gossip, but they laugh at anything remotely funny anyway.
With a knock at the door, a maid greets me, "Miss Audrey, do you need anything?"
"No, if I do I'll give you a shout," I answered. Father had a maid positioned outside my room to tend to my needs. Although they are employed to do everything for me I find that I prefer to do everything I can myself.
"It is such a beautiful day outside, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and you are inside. Would you not rather go outside and join your sister?" Her Swedish accent is thick despite being here for seven years.
"Not really Stella, although I love sunny days, I don't like gossip or the people that come along with it," I admit, causing her to giggle.
"But, Miss Audrey, ever since you employed me personally, I have been one of the few maids to take care of you. You should go out more often, enjoy the weather. You've been cooped up here, even as a child," she replied doubtfully, "albeit you didn't have a choice but now you do. You are older and much more wise, beautiful too but that's not the point."
I raise an eyebrow, "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Miss Audrey, that your family cannot hold you down anymore. You are much more independent. You are a very strong woman, don't let your name stop you." She smiles brightly.
"Alright then, what do you suggest?" I ask, taking a sip of my tea.
"I know you adore books, why don't we read them in the flower garden. I know Steven would be excited to see you again," she suggested, her smile much softer now.
"Okay, reading in the garden it is," I agreed, I finished my tea and gave the mug to Stella to refill. I packed a bag with a few books and set off to the flower garden.
Upon arrival in the land of flowers, I am greeted with a loud, "Audrey!" and an impact you could call 'an excited gardener'.
"Steven, I...I think you just broke my ribs." I say breathily, poking and prodding my ribs.
"Audrey I haven't seen you since you moved into the dorms. I missed you!" He replies, bouncing up and down like a puppy.
"Woah, calm down there boy. It's good to see you too." I admit, a small smile playing on my lips.
"So what are you here for? Hi Stella." He asks, shyly waving to Stella with a small blush on his cheeks.
I never get a break, do I?
"Miss Audrey will be reading. She needs to get out more, don't you think?" She intoned, gesturing to my face.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Yeah, she's pretty pale," Steven commented, nodding his head.
"Hey!"
"I grow more worried for her every time I see her." Stella worries, shaking her head.
"Okay, I feel very attacked right now so I'm going to go do my thing. Steven, I do believe you have a half-hour break right now, I think you and Stella should have a little walk around the garden." With this, both Stella and Steven's faces flush pink.
I take my place on a chair and table, thanking another maid for bringing the teapot and mug. A plate of carrot cake is presented in front of me and my mouth instantly waters. I settle down and take out a random book of the pile, taking a bite of the cake and beginning to read. Every so often, I'll put the book down and admire the scene in front of me.
The flower garden is a very romantic place. My father gave this gift to my mother on the day he proposed to her. Around me was a large shimmering pond, a stone bridge stretched across it. In the middle of the bridge was where he proposed. It was mid-April, the cherry blossom trees around the lake would have bloomed. The flowers all around the lake would have been a picture of colour under the beaming sun. The trickle of the small waterfall would have collided with the chirps and whistles of the birds. How happy that day must have been.
Ever since then, it has been my mother's favourite place in the world. Around me was a breath-taking array of flowers, my heart clenched at its beauty. Butterflies and bees whirled and twirled around every flower. The symphony of birds played throughout the trees, calling out to the world. This was...beautiful, perfect even. My heart and mind felt so content, so at peace.
But I was still missing something. Still missing my feeling of being home.
SEBASTIAN
I lounged on the sofa, bored out of my mind. I was the only one in the house, everyone was out. Around me, the walls seemed to close in. I felt trapped. An emptiness inside opened, its doors yawning open.
I eventually can't take it anymore. I spring up and make my way outside. My eyes always surprised at the greenery before me. I enter into the curtain of trees, into the cover of evergreen. The suns beams shone through the cracks of the blanket of leaves, its warmth bringing comfort to my face. I could feel the edges of my lips turning upwards.
My eyes raked the scene, spotting a few birds and squirrels. I walked deeper into the forest, remaining cautious of stray tree roots and rocks. I made that mistake one too many times as a child. I followed my feet which seemed to have a mind of their own, they knew where they were going. Deeper and deeper, closer and closer to the heart of the forest.
Just as predicted, the heartbeat leads me to a cottage in the middle of a clearing. A place my grandmother would take me. It looks the same today as it did back then. I twist the doorknob and I enter. Everything is still the same. My grandmother relished is the fact that it was a place without electricity, you had to do things the 'old way'.
"Wow, it's almost as if I hadn't come here since-" I stop myself, knowing which words would come next.
Since she died.
Throughout my life, the feeling of being out of place was common. I wasn't a stranger to feeling like I didn't belong.
She would say, "Who cares that you're different? I know I don't. No matter what you are, an artist, a mailman, an astronaut or whatever you want to be, you'll still be Sebastian, you'll always be the same to me. The only person you should worry about accepting you the way you are is you. If you don't accept yourself then how can anyone else accept you? Cherish your uniqueness and throw it around like glitter."
"Throw it around like glitter?"
"Yeah, once you get glitter somewhere, it never leaves. Don't let people forget your uniqueness. Sure, it may annoy some people at first but after a while, they accept the glitter, they learn to appreciate the beauty of glitter. Your uniqueness is the same. And just like glitter, it can be a weapon of mass irritation." She would chuckle like a madwoman.
Nothing changed. The couch remains by the small fireplace where we'd drink hot chocolate in winter. The blanket draped over the arm remains untouched, illuminated by the light streaming through the glass planed windows. The door that leads to my bedroom was ajar, glancing into the room I could see that too, remained unchanged.
I peeped into the room and glanced around, a small, single bed was cooped up in the corner under a set of shelves. The old and worn fairytale books sat dusty, the covers fading with the constant beams of light from the window adjacent. I opened the wardrobe, spotting a few clothes that would definitely be too small for me now.
With a sigh, I abandoned the bedroom and returned to the living room, sitting carefully on the sofa. Grandmother had obviously told other people about this place since I haven't breathed in a lung full of dust. But even then, everything remained. It is as if time doesn't pass in this cottage. Nothing has changed, except for me.
"Would you be proud of me Grandmother?" I ask, but receive no reply. There is no one here who can reply.
Once again, I sit alone.