Pristine

Chapter 18

A celebrity's funeral is no fun to attend or talk about. Yet, it still lingers there, never leaving the soul.

Two girls were uncovered in the wreckage. The media story was that, driven drunk with fame, Pristine Flamoria decided to visit the bar with her friend.

If there was ever an adult in the car at the time of the crash, no one would ever know.

♢♢♢

30 years later...

Brooke Flamoria is an old woman now. Old, crippled, and suffering from severe arthritis. But yet, she clings to life, hopping from one state to the next.

She wishes for little attention. Her poor daughter and her ill-fated friend, both- gone. Was she the reason they went to the bar that fateful night? Did they follow her there?

These thoughts, and many others, plague her with guilt. She yearns for the days when she was a carefree youth, remembering the flashes of the camera and a cool, salty breeze...

♢♢♢

Even in old age, Trevor Flamoria is handsome. His lean figure bends over the fence of the balcony of his beach house now, wondering where it all went so wrong. He wishes he had never met Brooke...

...or, for that matter, Mellie, whom mysteriously vanished the night of the crash. Horrified, driven to suicide, at the news of Pristine and Allison's demise? Or something much more guilty, more sinister... fleeing from a crime?

He has had many discussions with Serenity over the matter, and has begun piecing the scattered puzzle pieces together. Brooke wanted Pristine away, so she sent her over to Allison's house. From there, both girls left with Mellie to somewhere 'special': the bar. Halfway back to Allison's house, the crash occurred.

Except that they hadn't been going in the direction of Allison's house. They had been driving further away, into the middle of nowhere. To hide? Or to never be found?

He has never revealed what he knows to the police, nor has Serenity. They continue to figure out, alone: what happened to Mellie?

♢♢♢

Angelina and Melody were never identical twins. Yet, they looked alike in such a way that it was nearly impossible to detect their differences in low light. Controlling her strong vocabulary of the fashion world and softening her voice, Angelina could impersonate Mellie nearly impeccably.

No one would ever have to know that Angelina's daughter, Emily Turbin, consequently won the Miss Junior America contest as a direct result of Pristine's untimely death. Or that Mellie never visited Allison's house the night of the accident.

♢♢♢

The Turbin household is in full swing of use; as a result of the absence of the school's favorites, Emily becomes the most popular girl there. Her room almost always stocks friends. Her kitchen is usually feeding outsider's mouths. Her mother is always measuring and snipping, making dresses for new customers.

All of the house is in use, except for the top floor, the attic. Once a hideout, it is now a prison. A prison for someone whose face was stolen and used against her. A prison for someone Emily's mother knows very well, and despises.

A prison for someone two people hold accountable for the murder of their children, and someone who the rest of the world has no idea even exists.

♢♢♢

Serenity wishes Allison had never met Pristine. Then she wouldn't have left that fateful night, and... she shys from the thought of it. 30 years ago on this night, it happened. The sympathy. The cards expressing sorrow. But it does not come now. Not when she needs it the most.

Serenity wipes away a tear. It drop from her finger and splatters on a candle below. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she picks up the candle and, seeing the flicking flame begin to die, tosses it out into the calm sea.

If anyone searched, they would find 30 candles sunken into the sand of the beach.