Spring is often used to symbolize revival. Natures rebirth. Life's restart point.
Freshness, newness, breath.
For most people it is.
For Della Carper - it wasn't. It was just another season at the start of just another month, in the middle of just another year in the same place. Which is the only place on the planet that she didn't want to be.
Her Uncle Abel's house - not home, this place doesn't deserve such a precious title - house. Just a house. Just where she sleeps, eats, and suffers. Another place no more personal than the nearest gas station or hospital.
House.
Her, Able, and a few maids that did the occasional dusting or - entertaining in her uncle's bedroom, lived here.
This is all she ever wakes up in. Ever since that horrific day when she came home from school after an exciting day full of good grades, first crush kisses, and a future party to attend.
Only to find blood, gore, and death spattered all over her mother's favorite blue throw pillows and rug and the white couches that would never be the same again, it was a mercy to burn them.
That was the day she died technically.
And now - it's been six years since, and she's still waiting to be revived.
Spring sure as hell isn't doing that.
But she wakes up. Every. Single. Morning. She opens her eyes, sees the same worn dresser with nothing on it except a picture that was a horrid reminder of her life when she was alive and the ticking time bomb, otherwise known as her clock. The same threadbare rug on the creaky wooden floor. The same broken spring bed. The same dreary grey curtains over the same drafty glass window.
And than she'd get cleaned, dressed and leave for another torturous day at the same school she's been going to since middle school.
But then - the sameness outside wasn't helping anything either. Even the people stay the same. Just grew old and some die - then someone else is born in their place and usually has an uncanny way of filling past dead person's role in the same society.
Wikerhaven never changes. Never.
So yah.
She was basically dead on two feet.
Not to mention everyone thought she was probably crazy. Well - no one could blame them. She used to have friends, used to have fun - as much fun as anyone could have in this place - people liked her even. She had a promising start in life six years ago - then it all fell apart. And people felt sorry for her.
Sad lonely little girl, lost her parents to a sad unfortunate unexplainable murder. A crazy person killed them they'd say, 'we never could catch him, poor girl' - they'd say. Nothing could have been done, who was to know someone like that even existed in lil' ol' Wikerhaven. It's never happened before or since.
Just another exciting unexpected story that riled up the locals because nothing interesting ever happens here.
She was just something new to discuss over afternoon tea and cake. Her parents murder - someone ripped them to shreds - was just the outcome of a shocking slip in the criminal containment department.
The sheriff didn't lock up the convicts tight enough. There aren't any convicts that could do that here. It wasn't even a human being who did that to them - she knows - but if she says, they'll just look at her pityingly and smile gently, agreeing kindly and turn around to whisper how sad it is that she's gone crackers.
But she hasn't.
She swears it wasn't normal. She's tried to tell people why at first. But they all shut her down. The sheriff, the doctors, the forensic scientist, even the undertaker.
So she stopped telling people, stopped caring. Stopped living. Just - existing.
So they call her crazy. Some were even weary of her snapping at any moment, waiting for insanity to kill her or them.
But she wasn't crazy.
Not even after they threw her to the only living relative she has. Uncle Abel - the bastard. She could spit on him.
But they don't care how much of a crap-ass he is. He's rich. He buys all the best liquor, throws all the best parties, he controls most of the politicians in this god forsaken town, the biggest being the Mayor.
But who gives a damn.
Nobody. Not even her.
So she goes about, doing the same things, reliving the same nights, surviving the same days. Nobody notices. Nobody cares. Nobody worries. She's just there, just a sad shell of a person whose lost their soul.
That's what they say.
Even if she died that day - she's still waiting. She doesn't know for what - but she's waiting for something. Whatever it was, she knows it'll change things around her, it'll help her - that's the only thing she feels - she has that tiny little itty bitty piece of soul left awake inside her that feels this. That's making her wait. That's telling her - It won't be this horribly bleak forever.
She just wishes that whatever was supposed to do that would hurry the hell up already.
~~~~~~
It was over.
Finally.
He could take a deep breath and enjoy the fact that it was over. He does - he takes a long deep breath of the fresh spring air of Wikerhaven. God, it's been years. He hasn't felt this peaceful and relaxed in - so long.
Too long.
He smiles at the heavy decorated wood and glass door before him, the door that he could go through and close against all his problems. The problems he's finally - finally, left behind.
He breaths again, lets the air of fresh newness fill his lungs, twine around his bones, warm his blood. Yup - over.
Finally.
He could be normal. He could be human. He could be free.
Take that problems.
~~~~~
"There goes the towns resident Crazy." Amber Mills was a lot of things - but kind and compassionate? It doesn't seem like those feelings were ever programmed in her when she got her soul.
So - aside from everyone else whispering behind Della's back, Amber full on gossiped as loud as she could as much as she could in front of her.
She didn't care much for the story of the sad little girl who lost her parents in a horrific way. Who cares anymore anyway? She wasn't one to keep feeling pity for someone who's become such a loser.
"Shhh, c'mon Amber - stop being so mean." Dylan Mills - her brother - on the other hand must have gotten all the compassion gene. He and Della used to play in the sandbox together - then her parents died and - well - Amber always hated Della and Dylan never quite knew why.
"Oh stop, it's not like she cares anyway. I mean, come on - what's she gonna do? Look at us sadly?" Amber snorts rudely as Della closes her locker and walks away. Another day, another bite. Nice. She's feeling pretty confident in herself right now.
"Yah, but when she does actually go crazy - you're going to be the first one she murders brutally in your sleep." Chloe Sanders, another local girl, blond, pretty - a bit vague - but not really intentionally cruel. Just too weak to think entirely on her own.
"Oh yah." Amber rolls her pale eyes and tosses her perfectly conditioned golden brown curls over her shoulder. "Like she can even get into my house."
"Hey, both of you, knock it off." Dylan sighs and tugs at his shirt collar. "Bell's about to ring, see you at lunch."
"Bye!" Chloe calls, eyes fluttering hopefully.
Amber rolls her eyes again, scoffing in disgust. "Seriously Chloe? You've been crushing on my brother for three years, he's not interested, get over it."
Chloe shrugs, clutching her pack. "Hey, maybe he'll come around by senior year and then we can go to college together?" One thing about Chloe - she has optimism for days, often misplaced sure, but - optimism no less.
"Whatever." Amber's clearly done with this conversation and decides to head towards math. Mr. Carol was - at least mildly cute to look at. It sucks that she - beautiful, charismatic, sexy Amber Mills - had to be born in such a dull unsexy town. The cutest boy in school was her brother for god's sake - what the hell could she do about that?
Ugh.
But no problem for other girls - they at least had a hot boy to look at, she just has to be related to him and have to deal with his typical brother stuff that other girls didn't because they were free to ogle him all they wanted and she was stuck to ogle - Jeremy Devon. Smart boy with pretty fine cheek bones and probably at least a decent body but - no. So not her type.
She sighs at the thought, how many dances and parties she's missed out on or hated to go because the date was either ugly or boring. Or both. God - she didn't belong here; she belongs in big cities with endless supply of cute-hot-sexy young or older men to dote on.
She was still a freakn' virgin for craps sake. She was way too hot to be a virgin.
Whatever, two more years of this hell and she could go out in the world, find an epic collage and finally live!
And - her teenage girl fantasy is cut off abruptly and painfully when her shoulder rams into someone else's and she ends up banging her elbow against a metal locker and tripping on her heels. Thank God there was some support behind her or she could have broken an ankle.
"Hey, watch where you're going Nark!" She spits out, fumbling with her misplaced hair. She shoves her bangs out of her eyes and blinks to glare up at - a face she's never, ever seen in her life.
An utterly -completely - oh my god.
Her breath is gone, her heart speeds up and her soul - it flies right out of her and starts singing with the angles because this boy in front of her was - utterly delicious.
Tall, broad shoulders - dark hair cut short and combed back in a messy slick, angled thick brows and - amazing lips that are begging to be worshiped. His face was a masterpiece of sharp cheekbones and cut jawline and his eyes - she looks into them and time is totally meaningless.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry." He smiles - the angels start a concert up there and her souls right there with them. "Are you ok?"
"Uh - ya - um, er - " Idiot. She's blubbering, it's not her fault! She has never been exposed to this level of amazing guy hotness - what the hell was she supposed to say?
"Sorry." He stretches out a beautiful hand.
She takes it hungrily, lets him help her up, relishes in the feel of him and imagining what the rest of him would feel like and she knows in that moment - this boy - this guy was going to be the one she lost her virginity to. Something inside her knows - just knows - that there will never be another like him ever.
"Fine, no - it's ok - um, sorry. Nice to meet you. I - don't think I've ever seen you around before?" She switches gears into welcoming and a bit flirty, hoping she's not out of practice.
He nods, lips pulling into a carful smile. "Um, yah - just got into town. Nice to meet you too."
A silent moment. It's awkward? No - no - she can't let it be.
"Amber Mills, I'm the it girl for pretty much everything fun that happens around here. If you need it - which you will - call me." Damn it - desperate much?
"Yah. Sure. Um - I'm Varian, nice to meet you Amber." He shakes her hand.
Varian? Ooh - even his name was exotic. "You too." He is so going to be hers.
The bell rings. She curses every devil that's conspiring against her out there and smiles politely. "Late for class. See you around?"
"Yah. See you." He waves and heads off towards another class - dammit. Oh well, maybe they'll have history together.
Finally, this year is looking up.
~~~~~~~~
Unknown POV
It's been what? Four or five years? Meh - maybe five. You kinda start to lose track of days after a few start blurring together, they don't stop.
But if lil' Varian thinks he's finally going to get out of the blur and actually start something of his own. Actually be able to un-blur his own life alone - And in this crap dull town too.
Hah - poor guy. It's sad when pitiful souls like Var dare to hope again. And that's why people like himself exist - to remind the poor saps that you can't change what you are or who you come from. Can't just run away from all the bad things you've done either.
That's just not how things work.
He plans on reminding Varian of that as quickly and painfully as possible.
But then again - maybe it would be fun to stay awhile, even if he is on a time crunch - after all, he hasn't terrorized a town this dull in ages. These people could use a little excitement to shake up their mundane little lives.
Hm - well, excitement was his specialty.
Look out insipid small towners.
Here comes trouble.
~~~~~~~~~
Your thoughts are much appreciated.