The Fragile World of Aria

chapter 1

I always had this nightmare about some guy touching my face gently with this black gloved hand.  Sounds dumb, right?  Well not to me.  the feeling I got when his hand came into contact with my skin was.. repulsive.  Every time I had this dream, i would wake up, arms waving, legs kicking, and screams erupting from my little chest.  My mom and dad would rush in and soothe me, before I could blink.  

Mom would pet my hair and tell me everything was okay while my dad sat on the old leather couch next to my bed and strum on his acoustic guitar and hum the melody of my favorite disney songs.  

But now when I screamed in the middle of the night, there was no guitar, and no pat on the head.  Only the sound of my ragged breathing and my cat, paris stirring, annoyed next to me.  

there was one night though, that not only was there no one to protect me from this chilling nightmare.  But that this nightmaer came true.

****

It was May.  A beautiful time in my hometown of New Orleans,  Lousiana.  But apparently Europe was not as gracious.  England had been freezing, and Greenland isn't as green as everyone thinks it is.  But Italy was bearable with it's beautiful stone cathedrals and yummy cafe's.  Poppy was, as always, worshipping the trees that were now blooming and bursting with sweet perfume.  

Cherry Blossoms lined a small store that we walked by, and my best friend sighed in contentment and leaned down to sniff the small flower.  i rolled my eyes as I watched her relax and smile in a quirky little way.  "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to stop and smell the roses."  She said quietly as she slowly stood back up.  

"I know.  But those are Cherry Blossoms."  i replied in my usual sarcastic tone.  It was the closest to humor I had.  poppy rolled her eyes and scoffed at me before I grabbed her arm and tugged her along.  "We have to be at this stupid party by 7 and if you keep stopping to smell the roses, we're going to miss it."  I snapped.

I hated parties, I really did.  But poppy had been nagging me about going to some kind of social event the whole time we had been here.  And I knew if I just let her lounge about, she would be hours late and she would just start nagging me again.  So, i was determined to go and to not get drunk.  No siree, I would not have a taste of liqour.  

As we arrived at our hotel, a B grade, slightly dingy little place, I rushed Poppy into the little room we shared that was in desperate need of some febreeze.  I winced a little as we crossed the threshold from the fresh air and into the stale, smoky apartment.  Unfortunately, Poppy smoked, and refused to quit, even when we were in a hotel.  So, not only did the room smell of mold, but also cigarette smoke.  I sighed and quickly started pulling clothes from my luggage, and tried to figure out what I would wear.  A hopeless project.

Poppy must have saw me struggling, because she skipped over to my depressed form and dumped my suitcase onto the floor.  "Dear Mother Nature."  She muttered to herself as she examined the pile of simple cardigans and button up silk tops.  "If I didn't know any better, i would have thought these clothes belonged to my grandma." 

I chuckled slightly and stared at the pile hopelessly.  "It's useless.  Not that it matter what I look like anyways.  I'm only going for you."  I mumbled, throwing a wadded up pencil skirt behind me.  

Poppy giggled and skipped over to her own suitcase and produced a long sleeved sheer black dress and a pair of cute vintage hose.  "This combined with your kinda cute black oxfords will make you almost look your age."  She joked as she threw the clothes at my face.  i squealed and fell back onto the bed as the black clothing covered my eyes.  "You're such a good friend."  I teased as I slipped my grandma sweater over my head.  

"Seriously, Aria.  Your clothing choices combined with your classical musical tastes really make you seem 90."  

I was walking to the bathroom and stoppped to glare at her.  I couldn't help that I loved Beethoven and soft knitted cardigans.  The clothes were comfortable, and the music was passionate, and they made up for eachother.  "Look, I didn't choose this bad boy."  I said as I patted the Cello case beside me.  "It chose me."  I said to myself as I slid into the small closed in bathroom.

It was true.  I had been nine when a big, falling apart Cello was found, abandoned in our next door neighbor's house.  The people who had just moved in threw it out onto the curb and I, a curious child opened the case to peer inside.  I kind of smiled to myself when I saw the dark wood and the horse hair strings.  I ran my fingers along the wood and giggled to myself.  I dragged the huge thing inside and begged Dad to fix it.  He, being a musical prodigy himself, studied music, and happened to know a little about the srting department.  It took several weeks, but he fixed it up as good as new and got me lessons right away.  I picked things up quickly and was putting on my first recital at 10.  

I then wanted to expand my musical knowledge at the age of 11, and learned piano, flute, french horn, and even harp.  But I refused to let my father teach me guitar.  It was the one thing that I did not care to learn.  Classical was my thing, and I started to listen to a little Broadway as a teenager, but that was about as modern as it got.  Opera, of course, was my other love, and I begged for voice lessons at age 12.  I was soon admitted into a school for musical prodigies in New York.  

It was two days before I was supposed to leave for this new school when the accident happened.  

I shook my head of the memory and started running a brush through my dark brown waves.  I winced as my tangles got the best of me and I gave up.  It looked kind of okay....  

I threw on the dress and panty hose before brushing my teeth quickly, hoping that everyone else at the probably crowded party did the same.  I pinned back a few strands of dark hair to keep it out of my face and brushed on some mascara and lip gloss.  "Okay Pop, let's go!"  I called.  I heard her groan and frowned.  "I'm not ready!"  She called back.  "And besides you haven't even put your shoes on!"  She added, as I glanced at my feet.  Oops...

I hurridely put on the one pair of heels I owned, reserved mostly for concerts and recitals.  

I spritzed perfume on and watched Poppy struggling to put on her all natural eco friendly blush.  "Let's go."  I snapped.  She gritted her teeth and brushed past me in her cocky way.  And out we went.  Little did I know this party would change my life.  But I still haven't figured out if it was for the better or for the worse.