Homecoming Shadows

Chapter Twelve: The Diamond Rush

April Winfred paced nervously in the spacious living room of her opulent woodland mansion. Outside, rain pounded against the glass panes, eerily silent in the early hours of the morning. The home was shrouded in darkness as the curtains were drawn shut, a peculiar sight as April and her husband Ian typically reveled in the breathtaking view of the woods, their window's a stage, life - a show. Still dressed in her skating uniform of dark jeans and a white shirt, April looked more boyish than her twenty nine years, her delicate features revealing a beauty in its prime.

On the white fur rug that spanned much of the living room floor, April's expensive smartphone vibrated restlessly. Her heart pounded in synchrony with the intrusive buzzing. With a tremor in her voice, she picked up the call.

"Lou, where on earth have you been?!!" Her voice rang clear and desperate through the empty expanse of the house.

Relishing the comforting purr of her white cat against her bare legs, she kicked it away absentmindedly, her focus entirely on the call. Desperation clung to her every word as the conversation unfolded.

"I think I may have done something bad, Lou!" Her voice cracked with guilt. "...I'm scared I might end up in jail for that!"

She switched off the call abruptly. Her eye caught a movement on the security feed displaying the mansion's entrance gates. A lone postman had left a bright yellow envelope in the mailbox. Heart pounding against her ribs, she raced out to retrieve it.

Moments later, April sat hunched on a kitchen stool, the letter trembling in her hands. It was curt and to the point:

'May the 8th. Our Cabin. Ned.'

The letter slipped from her grip, fluttering down onto the marble table. Terrified, her gaze darted around the room, as if anticipating the arrival of an unwanted visitor. A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind, each more horrifying than the last. Ian, jail, Ned, cabin, letter. Lou, jail, Ned, Cabin, letter. Lou...

Forcing herself out of her daze, April hurried to her bathroom. She gathered her cosmetics haphazardly, clutching onto the only sense of normalcy she could muster. As she brushed her golden locks, her eyes fell on the diamond-encrusted ring Ian had gifted her five years ago. A seven-carat diamond ring that ensured her 'Yes', and led her parents to disown her.

Her beautiful ring laying on the bathroom's sink now yielded an eerie crimson hue, smeared in some red liquid. She dipped it into a bowl of water, watching as the red drained away, revealing the brilliant diamond again.

April sighed. She had no idea what was to come. But she knew one thing for sure - her life was about to change in ways she couldn't begin to imagine.

April

There I stood, looking at the mirror, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest any second, my hands full of clothes, cosmetics, and other several trivial items. And a sweet empty bottle of wine, Saint-Émilion 1985, a sheer delight, that accompanied me all through the emotional commotion. I was on the brink of the unknown, about to embark on an untrodden path all veiled in a cloud of mystery. But before I began my escape, I caught my reflection. A flashback of memories flooded my mind right away as the mirror served as a portal to my teenage years.

Spring of 2004, I was at a party in Asheville, a house party teeming with teenagers from my school, all hype about their newfound freedom. It was the night of my 16th birthday, the night I bid farewell to my childhood. A happening party in a fraternity house of the richest kid of school, where never-ending bottles of cheap beer were consumed frivolously. The frat house buzzed with loud music, bright lights, and the heavy scent of puberty. Room after room was filled with laughing, talking, bubbling voices, and in one of those rooms, a wallflower was about to shed her petals for her heartthrob.

Will Rinowsky, the popular football player at our school, more like a cliche inside the body of a chiseled Adonis, showered attention on me the whole evening. The enamored sixteen-year-old girl cozied up in the aura of a big guy like Will. Tonight was the night when I would lose my virginity to him. As I made my way up the stairs, fear clung to every step. But I refused to back down, I was resolute about this. I felt ready.

An hour went by, and I ran down those same stairs, my heart shattered into pieces. The anticipated moment turned into a horrific nightmare. Will betrayed my trust, he recorded our intimate encounter, made a mockery of my feelings, and me, a gullible innocent teenager, did what anyone in that situation would do - lash out. I smashed the video camera against the wall, which drove Will to a rage so frightening that he was almost about to hit me. But providence had a hero lined up for me.

Miles Prescott, another popular schoolboy, in the hallway, walking past, heard my screams, and rushed to my rescue. Goodness knows how the night would have ended had he not intervened at that fortuitous moment. I was grateful to that guy with all my heart.

I locked myself in the party's bathroom, overwhelmed by shame and fear. I looked into the cracked mirror, my mascara smudged and running down my cheeks. The mirror's reflection told the tale of my humiliation, and in my rage, I threw the empty beer bottle into the mirror, shattering it into countless shimmering shards.

Enough was enough, hence I declared my abstinence from all high school parties forever. I bid farewell to the luring charm of the star athletes, they were all equally moronic.

As the once lively frat house grew silent with the curtain fall of the eventful party, I found myself alone, sobbing on the terrace stairs. Lost in my state, I heard a familiar voice calling my name, '...April?'

I turned around to find Ned Jennings, a quiet, introvert guy from my chemistry class. He had always been buried in his books, so consumed in his world that he barely had any spare time to socialize.

He asked me if I was okay. With a lump in my throat, I managed to utter a horribly unconvincing 'Yes, Ned, I'm perfectly fine.'

Ned handed me a napkin, his eyes suggesting his disbelief of my words. '...Please, don't worry, April. These freaks ain't worth it. In ten years or so you won't even remember their names.' He uttered with a smirk and adjusted his old-fashioned glasses.

I could only muster a grateful smile amidst my tears.

As Ned left on his bicycle, his words echoed in my mind, 'In ten years, you won't even remember their names.' How foolish were we all, teenagers, falling head over heels over pink cliches, unsure of what uncertain paths lay ahead of us...

And now as I drank the last drop of my wine before leaving my house and the province, I knew one thing for sure - I would never forget those names. They became a part of the book of my past, my personal book of mistakes and growing. Little did I know, this journey on the wings of fear and running away, was about to add more chapters to it.