Grief

Chapter One
I ran and ran, faster and faster, the awful voice ringing in my head.
"I can't be your friend, you're so ugly. I'm kidding nerd stop being such a bitch."
A new voice joined in, my father. "You're a disgrace! All you do is hurt and hurt and hurt."
Another. Three, actually.
"I can't believe we're related! All you do is hurt and lie! It was you that night, you deny it, but we know it was you. You killed her, your lies and hurt are the reason her heart stopped."
Soon more voices were chanting. I ran faster and faster, but they grew louder and louder.
"You killed her, you did it. It's all your fault! I hate you, we all hate you."
I couldn't stop the tears from falling or the memories from pouring out.
Then I heard that voice, the one that made my breath hitch and catch in my throat. I tripped, and I was falling. But I never hit the ground, I was falling down an endless black hole, and there was no escaping it.
He was smiling down at me.
"You deserved everything you got. These voices in your head? Stop blocking them out, they're right, and you know it too."
Now I was screaming.
I screamed until my voice broke, then I screamed more. But I knew no one was coming. They never did.

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Amara Brayleigh awoke with a jolt, sweat sliding down her back and heart pounding. She has the same nightmare every night, perhaps a little different from time to time, but it never gets any easier. Whatever foreign gods wanted her to relive hell everyday sure made it happen, as they always do. That same dream haunts her every sleeping and waking hours.
She lay down, closing her eyes, and she pressed her hand to her heart.
Breathe, Amara. Feel your heartbeat, feel your soul. You're still living, you'll make it another day. After all, the nightmares never stopped you before.
She rose from bed and walked to her small brown dresser, wiping a tear from her cheek. Lazily she put up the thick brown mess she calls hair into a bun. Some wavy out-of-control pieces fell out.
I hate my hair, I hate my face. She thought to herself.
She could be beautiful. She once was. Her brown, wide ended eyes and arched brows made her look lively, her sharp cheekbones, fuller lips, and straight nose could draw some attention. But unfortunately, she had this awfully thick scar running down her top lip and many acne scars peppering her forehead. They haven't faded yet, and after 7 years she doubted they ever will.
Amara moved out of her room, past her tv room, and into her small kitchen to start her coffee and toast. On her way she scooped up some books scattered along her floor and set them on her counter. If only she was more organized, like her mother once was.
She walked to her bathroom and crushed the remains of her toothpaste out onto her toothbrush. Another thing to add on her grocery list. Walking back to get her daily coffee her silk nightgown brushed along her skin.
"Would you like one lump, or two lumps?" She asked herself.
Three is it.
Putting three big lumps of sugar into her mug of coffee, she popped out her toast at the first smell of burning.
Dumb toaster. She coated her charred toast with butter and jelly, strode back into her room, plunked down in her favorite wheelie chair, and started up the computer.
"Back to my studies." She sighed heavily, "is my master's degree really worth it?" She knew it was, but nobody liked school. She looked to the orange sticky note that was her to-do list.
Wonderful. Grocery day.
Her computer finally booted up and Amara entered Google docs to work on her upcoming essay.

Chapter Two
After two hours of brainstorming, writing, deleting, and editing, Amara threw on some actual clothes, hopped into her crappy blue cavalier and started the drive to Reams.
"It's such a nice day, maybe I'll take a while to write at the park." Her mind drifted to her book. A story of pain and fiery love. She shouldn't torture herself with tales of fantasy but dreams were far better than her reality.
"Here we are." She parked her car and walked past the sliding glass doors into Reams. "Let's see, bread, eggs, milk.." She continued reciting her grocery list, "Oh! And toothpaste." She strode through Reams slowly and passed by the pastry section.
A doughnut couldn't be too bad of a snack... Right?
Amara considered her options and sighed. No doughnut today. That didn't stop her from waving to Sharon, the kind lady who always worked the same station, also who Amara had come to know quite well, at least, Sharon knew all Amara's favorite pastries.
She filled her shopping cart with all of her weekly necessities and wheeled her way to the checkout station.
"Hello, erm, do you by any chance know where the closest park would be from here?" Amara nicely asked the cash register. She may not have super amazing people skills, as she avoided almost anyone (with the exception of those who give her pastries), but she did know how to get information.
"Yes, it's just down the street from here, it's called the Randall Caemagi Park." The man replied and continued scanning her items.
"Thank you very much!" She smiled sweetly and went to get out her wallet.
Once she was done Amara loaded up her car. The drive to the park was relatively easy, as the massive expanse of grass and trees wasn't hard to find. So she got out of her car and went to find the nearest park bench.
Walking down the sidewalk her leather writing satchel bounced against her hip. She looked around a little after sitting down on a cold park bench. The air was crisp and the leaves peppered the floor and painted the trees in bright hues of orange, red and brown. The description on the park sign held true to its word. 'Mesmerizing seasons take a splendid turn with help from the owner, Heolstor Randall, to turn normal seasons into gorgeous and unbelievable natural beauty!' Maybe it was because of her love for autumn or her writer's mind, but this park sure was a beautiful sight, not only did it hold the natural beauty of autumn, but it was spiced with amazing touches. It wasn't even that you could see the uniqueness of it, but you could feel it! You could feel the wonder of the surroundings dancing and gliding atop your skin. Amara had never felt anything so wonderful! Even as everything was dying all around, they really brought out the beauty and strangeness of autumn, precisely everything she loved about it! Oh how she'd love to meet this Heolstor who could turn natural beauty into dazzling artwork right before your eyes!
Amara tore her mind from her glorious surroundings. She had work to do. So she reached for her laptop but stopped. She slowly turned to see a man silhouetted in the sun sitting next to her. When had he gotten there? He was huge compared to her 5'2 self. When he turned to her all thoughts left her head.
Her dumb-stricken look took its toll when he asked, "Is something wrong?" Even his voice ran along every inch of her.
He's- perfect.
A small familiarity grabbed at her mind, but her thoughts had slowed to a snail's pace.
She shook her head, if only to get those useless thoughts from her head.
"Yes, I'm quite alright." Did she just say quite?
"Alright. Isn't it strange to have such a perfect day in the middle of autumn?"
"I suppose." She clipped her words, no need to get too friendly. Amara closed herself up tight, only letting him see the rude part of her, if only to keep from opening up herself.
"So," he winked, "what's a pretty lady like you hanging at a park all by yourself?" Pretty. What a joke. She looked down at herself in her hoodie and ripped jeans.
"I just came here to write." She turned her head and rolled her eyes.
Couldn't he take a hint? She just wanted him to leave her alone.
She pulled out her laptop and tried to read her story off of google docs.
"That looks fancy, what's it about?"
"Lots of stuff."
"Oh come on, can't we talk a little?"
"No offense, but I don't "talk a little" with anyone." She snapped.
"Ouch. I surely can't be that bad to talk to." He smirked and gestured to his face.
"I've done this before and I plan not to do it again. Go flirt with someone else."
His smile faded. "Alright, but I will be back again."
"Mhm." She started pretending to read her story, "thinking" of what to write next, one eye on the man. He got up and walked away, looking frustrated. When he was gone she loosed a long breath and shook her head. Twice.
"Don't get your bun in a twist he's just an arrogant boy. A very pretty arrogant boy. Who wanted to talk to you.." She kept trying to tell herself it wasn't a big deal, scanning the lines of her story but not processing the words.
"Just stop thinking about him!" She growled at herself. Finally she gave up trying to summon ideas and stalked back to her car.
"If it's nice tomorrow I'll come back, surely he'll be gone from my mind by then."