6. A Meeting and a Play
1108 Words
Ava
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Ava opened her biology textbook. She read a few lines on mitosis but they were forgotten as soon as her eyes moved off the page. She tried jotting things down but the points just wouldn’t stick. Knowledge seeped out of her mind like water through a sieve and she grew frustrated, the frustration leading to even more confusion.
She leaned back in her chair and stretched. She knew what distracted her mind so, it was the boy. What was his curious relationship with her father? Who was he? Would he ever come and see her again?
She’d be gone in a few months. It meant her questions would have to go unanswered and her curiosity would be for naught.
Done stretching, she moved back into position and tried to delve into her work, all the while battling the unhelpful thoughts that ate at her brains.
Only but a few moments into her study, a familiar shadow washed over her curtain and dimmed the streetlamp outside. Ava’s heart leapt.
He came!
Her mind paced about her skull. Ignoring her father’s warnings a yearning to go outside and face the boy rose from within her. She wanted to talk to him, to know who he was, why he stood by her window and watched her…
Mustering up courage from reserves she never knew she had, she stood and drew the curtains. Indeed, he was there, hood concealing his face with a plastic bag on one hand.
Groceries? She wondered.
She opened the window, gusts of cool air poured in and bit at her face. Her night gown shivered and clung to her as if for warmth.
I have to say something…
They stared at each other for a while, both silent and unmoving save for the wind that blew between them.
‘Ava!’ The door to her room suddenly burst open and she was yanked back from the window. Her mother shoved past her and slammed the thing shut, silencing the wind wish a clip of the handle. Then she drew the curtains and left the night outside to its own devices.
‘I thought I warned you not to approach him.’ Her father pointed out angrily.
‘You didn’t knock.’ Ava protested, trying to cancel out her father’s anger with her own.
‘Look Ava,’ her father said, voice now soft. ‘Your mother and I care for you and… I would not be able to live with myself if something were to happen to you. So can you please let me protect you?’
Ava wanted to object. She wanted to challenge him and ask why he would not just tell her what was going on, why she had to live her life under the watchful eye of a stranger. How could they just continue living and pretending that everything was fine?
She asked none of those things. She convinced herself that her father’s pleading eyes had swayed her, that her mother, standing there looking overly anxious and scared had made her angered self calm. But deep inside the truth beckoned to be acknowledged. Neither of her parents could give her what she wanted. Their secrets were of little importance to her. All she longed for was to meet him, in person… to… befriend him?
She laughed. As her thoughts finally aligned and her intentions cleared themselves to her, the only way she could respond was with laughter. She could now clearly see the absurdity of her idea. What a helpless romantic she was.
‘Ava?’ Her mother prodded.
‘It’s okay.’ Ava said. ‘I just… I’m sorry. I don’t know what in the world I was thinking. I got frustrated and… anyways, it won’t happen again. Don’t worry.’
Her parents exchanged looks, then both left her in her room wearing very worried expressions despite her telling them not to.
**
Moments later she lay upon her bed, facing the ceiling with her hair splayed over her pillow, the rose patterns on her sheets surrounding her to give a canvas worthy portrait. A small part of her still wanted to see the boy, to speak with him. She now knew not to trust that part of her. Dark desired lay in that dark corner of her mind.
‘…NO! Nathaniel, You will not…’
Ava froze in shock. That had been her mother’s voice but not her tone…
‘She’s losing it for goodness’ sake! Will you get that…’
Her parents were fighting. It felt unreal, like a scene from a television drama. There had been misunderstandings before but never such… fury?
‘… my daughter is in danger because of YOU!’ her mother yelled in a breaking whisper.
A pause. Ava assumed her father was saying something back but he kept his voice lowered enough for her to not hear.
‘No!’ Her mother yelled back, she had but abandoned all attempts at concealing their argument. ‘You will not drag this family back into this. You will-’
‘Martha!’ Her father boomed, cutting his wife short.
Ava’s door opened slowly and the small figure of Genevieve stood framed there, weeping.
‘Hey… Hey…’ Ava darted off her bed and had her little sister in her arms without a second thought.
‘They are too loud.’ Genevieve complained.
‘I know.’ Ava responded reassuringly. ‘Can’t you sleep at all?’
Genevieve shook her head.
‘How about we rehearse for that play of yours?’ Ava offered.
Her sister remained silent.
‘Come on. You don’t want to make a mistake in front of everybody now do you?’ Ava put her sister back on the ground and climbed onto her bed.
She lifted her hands toward the light at the centre of the ceiling in an overly dramatic way and recited;
‘Sun, oh dear son. Deep crimson, like burning beds of roses. How beautiful you are before you perish. However will my frail hands reach you?’
Genevieve lifted her own arms and reached to her sister the same way she reached for the light;
‘Maiden, oh maiden fair. With a heart of gold and silver hair. How beautiful you are before you perish. How oh how, will my frail hands ever reach you...?’
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- Writer
