7 • beginning

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sometimes things fall apart so that better things can happen.
marilyn monroe

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    THEY came on a Friday.

Three heavily built men in dark suits and tinted shades, filing out of two sleek black cars. Morgana must have sent them to pick me up, but even with a 36 hour notice and the majority of my possessions already on their way to the school, I wasn't prepared to leave my relatives just yet.

"Uncle Ted?" I tilt my head to the side and beckon my uncle over to my position propped at the window. He peers out the window over my shoulder, casting a grim glance at the sight in front of us.

"I'll get Vic to talk to her," he tells me reassuringly before disappearing through the doorway once more.

After what seemed like a very length, very argumentative phone call, we were able to convince Morgana to let my Uncle and Aunt drive me. The only condition being we remained sandwiched between the two cars sent to accompany me. It wasn't ideal, but the dark suit men were spending as much time being inconspicuous as driving, so to an extent, we could almost ignore their presence.

"How do you feel?" Aunt Victoria asks me curiously.

I take a moment to consider her question. "Honestly?" I reply, "Like I'm starting high school for the first time."

It was that same feeling of dread and anticipation. The longing to finally find a place to fit in and the hope to crawl into a hole where nothing ever changed, all at the same time. It was that feeling that made everything you've learnt so far irrelevant, but you stick to it anyway because it was all you knew.

That, was how it felt on the long drive to wherever Morgana's black cars led to. I don't tell my aunt this, but she seemed to understand by the look on her face.

"That's a positive way to think about it," Uncle Ted mumbles.

"How do you two see it?" I ask back, with as much curiosity to hear the answer.

"Like we're sending you away," Aunt Vic admits.

"You are sending me away," I remind her.

'No, not like that," she's quick to correct. "It's more like–, Ted, dear, you explain."

"It's more like we're sending you to a prison for a crime you didn't commit," he confesses for the two of them.

I respond with silence at first. I didn't know how to reply to that one. Two lefts, one right and straight ahead. The car kept moving forward even though the conversation wasn't.

"I think some of the things I've done should count as a crime," I finally reply sombrely.

"Emma, never blame yourself for that," Aunt Vic orders me, her voice strong and ringing with sincerity. "You weren't in control of it, you didn't know what you were doing."

"I still don't," I sigh. She didn't know how to respond to that one.

"Maybe..." Uncle Ted speaks up after a pregnant pause where we all where we all relapsed into silence, "We should all think of it differently," he suggests. "Instead of making this place seem like the end of everything good, lets make it the beginning of everything that could get better."

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