Living Fatally : Loving You

Chapter 2: Maple Valley

Fall was coming to Atlanta. It slowly creeped in, pushing in one toe and then the next, its head peeking out with a full-faced cheeky smile. The winds blew - not with the sticky heat of summer, but the delectable smell of ripe apples and pumpkin spice. Leaves were dotted with delicate specks of gold; they had lost their youth and color from months ago. The woods behind Maple Valley were now a nice shade of orange, and wee children were off on their own little adventures.

Amidst the changing of seasons, I sat on my leaf-scattered porch as I calmly examined a chipmunk stuffing its face with acorn on the freshly-mowed lawn. The greedy, adorable creature had both its cheeks bulging with the nut. I smiled quietly at the delightful sight. Just as I raised my hand to take out my phone, the chipmunk cocked its head, and swiftly scurried away into the bushes.

A deafening roar bellowed out from inside the house.

"EDITH!"

I quickly lept inside the frontdoors and made sure to hide my phone from Mother's view. Creeping in as lightly as I could, I slowly moved into the house.

Once inside, the hollow, empty hall greeted me. Sunlight filtered through the draped windows, only to create greater shadows.

I held my breath and ran past the drawing room, afraid of the dark like a small child. I soon reached the arched wooden doors indicating Mother's study. Incandescent light glared through an open slit beneath the door. 

Mother looked exhausted, with her foggy glasses and rat's nest. Paperwork was stacked by towers, and the ancient computer hummed with boiling fever. She had been working non-stop ever since her partnering attorney had gone missing. She took a big, long sip from a huge bottle of coffee before sighing, and started talking.

"Edith, Ms. Longwaters just called me today, and surprisingly, she says you're on the verge of failing World History. I thought our goal was all A's this semester," Mother's worry lines deepened, and her creasing brows hinted at her distress. Her feet were tapping a faint rhythm, congruent with the tick-tocking of the antique grandfather clock.

"I know that already. I'll make up for it in the Finals. Besides, the other subjects are fine," I said, shrugging uneasily. My other subjects weren't just "fine". In fact, they were eccellente(proving I had an A plus in Italian). 

"It's just that I—" I couldn't continue. Mother had her skeptical gaze on. One more word, or else.

"No excuses, darling," she growled, grimacing.

"Edith. Do you understand the meaning of the word "priority"? It means that you value some things over others. In this case you could say that you valued dilly-dallying over getting good grades. The latter is something that you should be worrying greatly over, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? "

"Yes m'am.."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Ms. Longwaters asked me to give you this file; it's extra credit homework on History to compensate at least a bit for your impossible scores. Now—I'm checking exactly at twelve o'clock to see if you're finished. Got that?"

"Of course," I nodded, and snatched the USB from Mother's hands. The slender plastic clenched tightly inside my fist, I walked out as quietly as I walked in.

Unlike the rest of the house, my room was full of natural light. The window was in the very southern tip of the house, and sunbeams hit almost every part of the terrace. Ever since the moment I set foot in this quaint Victorian dwelling, I'd been infatuated with this particular room. 

Bathed in yellow ecstasy, I jumped on to my bed and pounced on the life-sized stuffed panther. Next to the feline was a laptop, its flap open from last night's scrummaging through fanfiction. It took me two irksome struggles to shove the USB in. The laptop blinked with a dull glow as the USB slowly transmitted the file.

After only a millisecond, I could read the title: World History Extra Credit: Writing & Historical Comprehension. The laptop made a light pac-man sound as the file completely downloaded. 

The file consisted of thirteen pages of document and two pages of black-and-white pictures, the former filled to the brim with words. On the top left corner it read: 

The Fall of Russian Monarchy: Written notes are to be presented to the teacher at the start of the week. (Emphasis on the due date!)

I softly read the paper aloud. The paper stayed true to its starkly obvious (and dreadfully dry) title. As I moved on to the second page, my mouth ached to yawn. My hands were already sweating and heavy from the furious note-taking.

It took more than three hours for me to reach the last written page.

I deliberately shut my sore eyes. I should've printed this out - the realization hit me, but too late, indeed. I opened my eyes again, and was appalled to read the upcoming details.

"Due to the wave of revolution in the 1900's, the tsar and his family were executed by the Bolsheviks in the cellar of their dwelling, their death symbolizing the fall of Russian aristocracy."

I blinked my eyes again and read the words out loud. Dead? Just because of who they were? My drowsiness evaportaed, and I read the passage over and over again in confusion. The five children were in their adolescence or young adults. How could the children have been killed, as well?

"What a shame they died so young," I whispered to myself.

The final page had a huge portrait depicting Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov, the late heir to the throne. Chiseled chin, heavy eyelashes, defined brows...he was quite - although it embarrasses me to say this aloud - "dreamy". I stared in a trance at the person who was almost the same age as me - yet in a different time, a different era, of different birth. 

My eyes still glued on to the computer screen, I fumbled to find my beeping phone. The phone kindly informed me that it was 'swell time I read some "critical reading" passages. I mumbled a curse under my breath and turned down the volume.

Showing unsuppressed disregard of my level of interest, the phone announced it was promptly going to start reading.

"'How Sea Urchines Could Be the Cure for Most Foot Diseases' by Yalin Sagar. You may be familiar with the pointy ocean creature, sea urchins..."

By the time the speaker moved on to the prevention of the disease, I was drooling.