Sparks ✨

Chapter 1- A New Chapter

I sat in a stupor, staring out a set of large bay windows, staring at nothing but an unending white abyss. I twisted my pendant from side to side, a nervous tick I had recently developed. In part to be sure it was still there, and in part to help my mind zone out.

 "Ember," my aunt said, interrupting my internal conflict. "Why don't we go have a spa day on me, honey?"

After the wreck, my family thought it would be a good idea for me to get away for the summer, so I have journeyed— oh, who am I kidding, I was dragged kicking and screaming to Florida— to stay with my aunt in an attempt at relinquishing a small part of my former self. Admittedly, I prefer the solitude of my own room, the company of the darkness, curtains pulled to, buried under a fortress of blankets.

"Thanks, but I think I'll just go lay out by the beach for a while and try to clear my head."

I had been given two options: talk therapy or nature therapy. In lieu of trudging into some impersonal bland office, with a ficas or an orchid in the window as a feeble attempt to display their ability to nurture, and be forced to divulge my feelings to some stranger to pass judgment on, I chose the latter. I was certain they wouldn't be able to fix me and doubted they would relish in the things I had to say. Florida really wasn't so bad. I spent my days beachside, basking in the sun with the intent of fulfilling complete disengagement from my mundane little life.

"I just want to go relax for a while and maybe work on a tan, Aunt Kathy. I'll be back by dark." I plucked my knapsack from a worn wicker chair and rushed out of the beach house with a forced smile and a wave goodbye.

I appreciate the concern, but what I need is time alone to process everything that has transpired.  I knew my aunt Kathy wouldn't be far behind me, so I had better make my escape quick. 

The sand was hot, smoldering beneath my feet from the blazing Florida sun. I had to dig in to make it across the brilliant white dunes with any rate of speed. Not far behind the house, I uncovered a tourist beaten path that traipsed right by a patch of golden-speckled sea oats;  an abandoned dune off the trail looked to be an ideal location to lounge in solitude.

The warm salty breeze brushed my hair across my face, tickling my nose as I lay there casting my cares away— or trying to. The faint sound of gulls ought to be enough to free my mind from the nightmares of that fatal night. The truth is, that no matter where I am or what I am doing the memories from that night invade my thoughts like a nefarious army.

For once, I just want to lie here and feel the rays beat down upon my skin, instead of remembering the feel of glass shards gnawing into my flesh. I want the lapping of the waves to replace the clashing of the metal and the screeching of the tires, to close my eyes, see his face and wake up to discover this was all just some dastardly dream.

I miss Gage so much, each time I close my eyes I see him. He was a beautiful man, tan-skinned and brawny, his tousled beige hair frayed in every direction adding to his disheveled yet polished look. His most piercing feature were his titanium-flecked blue eyes, those eyes are the only part of him that are seared into my memory. I close my eyes and I am looking into them. They were the bluest blue with a faint glimmer, like shallow ocean pools that are refracting moonlight. Better yet, his fictional good looks matched the beauty of his soul. He was my best friend, my very first love, and ironically— my very first loss.

My memories are like an out of focus picture. The last memory I have of Gage was that Halloween day. That day right up to the wreck is all I can recall. Before that day its as if I acquired amnesia to my past life and the weeks that followed.  I  don't remember my hospital stay or Gage's funeral which I was told I attended. I remember a blur of faces at school that is really more of a montage of condolences and sympathetic glances. I went through those days living an out of body experience, I was there but only by proxy. 

One statement stood out in my mind, a kind gesture that altered my perspective on death. Someone, though, I don't recall whom, had mentioned to me that death is the greatest loss a person will ever suffer. I disagree. That is a fallacy we share with one another in an effort to make the pain bearable, it is from these experiences that the greatest loss finds its way into our lives. Death is not the greatest loss in life— the greatest loss is what dies within us while we live.

That was how I felt, is how I feel— I hadn't died with Gage but a part of me did cease to exist that night. Something turned off, just went away.

The senior year passed by too rapidly; summer was already beginning to fade into fall, which meant college would be starting soon. I would have to face reality. It would soon be time for me to attempt to pick up the pieces of my shattered personality, life, soul, whatever word you want to put to it, it was time to put Humpty Dumpty together again. A small town by the name of Damascus, V.A. was going to be my home for the next four years.

Gage and I had planned to attend the same college which looking at our decision now seem a bit small-minded. Though I would likely find comfort in pursuing our original plan as it was the last thing in my life tying my life and Gage's, it wouldn't be the healthiest decision. If I had any hope of moving forward or being normal-ish. Living in a life I had planned with someone who was no longer here seems almost as crazy as living in a fairy tale world. No, it would only serve as a daily reminder of the life I had planned, the future that was no longer a possibility— it was time to move on, to rediscover my path and myself. 

A few months after the accident I received a college packet in the mail that piqued my interest. Damascus University had sent me an informational packet extending an invitation to attend their college for a tour of the grounds. The pamphlet listed the University's most sought-after courses, one of which was a Psychology Program, it listed photos of the quaint town, touched on the university's academic achievements and merits, showcased the clubs and organizations. I do not know why but I was unintentionally drawn to the town. I decided on a whim to apply and a few short weeks later received a letter of acceptance. Damascus seemed like it would be a good fit for me, the right place for a fresh start, unsure as I was, it seemed like the sign I was looking for.