Lost People (Short Story Competition Submission)

Lost People

"Oliver? Ollie?! We are about to take photographs—"

I ducked out of sight of the wedding party. I had no interest in taking "family" photos. My aunt was so gung-ho for this wedding but I wanted no part in it.

"Ollie!" My aunt Connie wailed.

I high-tailed it away from the reception, down the beach path, shrugging off my tux jacket – it had been a hot day.

The sun was setting over the pacific as I hustled down to the beach.

Laguna beach was where my parents met. I guess it was part of why the events of today just felt surreal and not in a good way.

Mom had always said that it was where they'd fallen in love... so I had no idea why my father allowed his 28-year-old girlfriend to make it their wedding destination.

For context my dad turned 65 this year. I had no issues with age-gap relationships really but something about watching my dad kiss someone only 5 years older than me disgusted me.

I suppose it was because I felt she was a gold-digger. It angered me. I resented her, especially since my mom had been the complete opposite.

I shuffled along the beach with my jacket hung over my shoulder.

The breeze was calm and quiet as I walked. The sounds of my aunt trying to find me had finally faded away. I was satisfied that at least Anastasia's precious photos wouldn't be perfect. She'd done everything she could to make her and my dad's wedding a perfect fairytale. Skipping out on the photos and reception was my only way of making sure that didn't happen.

My shoes felt heavy from all the sand, so I stopped for a minute to slip them off. I tucked the black dress shoes under my arm and plodded along.

The farther I got the lighter I felt. It was a relief to leave this stressful day behind me. I wanted to outrun it all. I needed to.

Images of my mom flashed through my head, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

It'd only been three years since.... since we'd lost her. But it felt like yesterday.

My heart felt heavy. The sun sunk further and further beneath the horizon, and I stopped to take it in.

The subtle oranges and pinks of the sunset contrasted with the blue sky in a perfect palette that reminded me of my mother's beautiful paintings. I was reminded of the many happy hours making paintings when I was little. My mom was an artist. A very talented and popular one. But she'd always taken the time to paint with me.

I didn't notice the tears were freely flowing and I sniffled as I tried desperately to wipe them away.

I'd been emotional all day. But it was only now that I finally let it out.

"Are you okay?" I jumped at the sound of a quiet voice behind me.

I wiped my tears quickly and took a long breath before I turned to see who'd spoken to me.

It hadn't been what I'd been expecting although I wasn't sure what I was expecting.

A girl about my age was standing a little behind me but also next to me. She was observing it all.

I took her in before saying a word.

She was tall. Not taller than me but only an inch or two shorter. I was 6'1 or so, for a girl she was definitely tall.

She was on the larger side. I could see her voluptuous shape outlined by her short satin blue dress. Her figure stood out like a bright light against the darkness. Her hair was a long messy black mop of curls all around her. It was blowing wildly in the breeze.