Ashes and Ink
1154 Words
Ashes and Ink
Chapter — Aria (Age 10)
“Aria.”
I blinked.
“Aria.”
My head jerked up.
Miss Florence stood at the front of the class, her arms folded tightly across her chest. There was a crease between her brows, the kind that always made her look tired.
“Where is your head today?” she asked.
Heat rushed to my face.
I looked around and saw some of my classmates already trying not to laugh.
Miss Florence sighed.
“Do you have any idea what I just said?”
My fingers tightened around my pencil.
“No, Miss. Sorry.”
A few snickers rose around the room.
I wished my chair would swallow me whole.
“No zoning out again, Aria,” Miss Florence said, her voice firm but not angry. “If this keeps happening, I’ll have no choice but to speak to your uncle.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I blurted too quickly.
That only made the laughter louder.
My face burned hotter.
“Good,” she said, turning back to the board.
The room slowly quieted.
“Now,” Miss Florence said, picking up a stack of papers, “today’s assignment will be a little different.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“It’s a creative writing exercise. I want you to imagine speaking to someone the world has already judged.”
She began passing papers down each row.
“These are case study profiles,” she explained. “People in prison. Different crimes. Different stories.”
The paper landed on my desk.
I looked down.
Names.
Ages.
Crimes.
Some I didn’t understand.
Some I did.
Miss Florence kept talking, but her voice started to blur at the edges.
“You will each choose one person from the list and write a letter. What would you say to them? How would you speak to someone people only see as their mistakes?”
David raised his hand.
Miss Florence pointed at him.
“Yes, David?”
He grinned. “Miss… what are we supposed to say to criminals?”
Laughter broke out across the classroom.
Miss Florence shook her head.
“That,” she said, “is exactly why we’re doing this.”
The room quieted again.
“I don’t want you to see a crime first. I want you to imagine there is still a person there.”
David slumped back in his seat.
Miss Florence smiled faintly.
“Write anything. Be creative. Be honest.”
I looked back down at my paper.
The list was organized by crime.
The words blurred as my eyes moved over them.
Fraud.
Theft.
Assault.
And then—
My gaze stopped.
Arson.
There was only one name under it.
My throat tightened.
I knew what fire did.
At least… I thought I did.
My fingers traced the word before moving to the name beneath it.
Dante Salvatore.
Italian.
I read it again in my head.
Dante Salvatore.
The bell rang suddenly, making me jump.
Chairs scraped.
Voices filled the room.
Everyone began packing up.
I stuffed the paper into my bag quickly and stood.
“Aria.”
I froze.
Miss Florence’s voice softened this time.
I turned around slowly.
The classroom was almost empty now.
She stepped closer.
“I need you to stop drifting away in class.”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” I whispered. “It won’t happen again.”
Her expression changed.
Not angry.
Something worse.
Pity.
“It’s not just about class, Aria.”
My stomach twisted.
She hesitated before speaking again.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your parents.”
I flinched.
Hard.
My eyes dropped to my shoes immediately.
The white leather was scuffed near the toe.
I stared at it like it was the most important thing in the world.
“I spoke to the principal,” Miss Florence said carefully. “We think talking to someone might help.”
Talking?
Help?
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She crouched a little so we were almost eye level.
“Someone who helps children with big feelings.”
Big feelings.
I didn’t like how that sounded.
“I’m okay,” I said quickly.
Miss Florence gave me a sad smile.
“You don’t have to be okay all the time.”
Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder.
My whole body went stiff.
She noticed and pulled back immediately.
“You can go now.”
I nodded.
My eyes stayed on my shoes as I walked out.
---
Outside, the afternoon sun was too bright.
Children spilled out through the school gates, laughing and shouting.
I stood near the pickup line, clutching my bag to my chest.
Then I saw Sophia.
Her blonde hair caught the sunlight like it belonged there.
She walked with her friends, laughing at something one of them said.
They looked so easy together.
Like breathing.
Like people who didn’t have to think before they spoke.
One of the girls glanced at me and groaned dramatically.
“Ugh, I always forget we have to wait for her too.”
The girls laughed.
Sophia didn’t.
She just rolled her eyes.
“Forget it,” she said. “I’ll be in high school soon enough.”
Her gaze landed on me.
“Then I won’t have to deal with this anymore.”
My throat hurt.
I looked down quickly.
My shoes again.
Always my shoes.
If I stared hard enough, maybe I could disappear into them.
The car pulled up a few minutes later.
I climbed into the back seat without a word.
Sophia slid into the front.
Like always.
The ride started in silence.
I pressed my forehead against the cool window.
My hand slipped into my bag and touched the folded paper.
Arson.
The word felt heavier now.
I knew my parents died in a fire.
Everyone told me that.
I knew that much.
But the harder I thought about it…
the less I remembered.
How did it start?
Who started it?
Why couldn’t I remember?
“Aria!”
Sophia’s voice made me jump.
I looked up.
She was twisted around in her seat, glaring at me.
“Where is your mind always going?”
“Sorry, I—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “I don’t care.”
She turned back around.
“We’re home.”
The car stopped.
Sophia got out immediately.
I stayed where I was.
The door shut.
Silence filled the empty space she left behind.
And that was when I cried.
Quietly at first.
Then harder.
Because I couldn’t remember.
Because everyone else seemed to know something I didn’t.
Because my parents were gone.
Because Monica hated me.
Because Sophia hated me.
Because sometimes I thought maybe they were right to.
I pressed my hands over my face and cried into the silence.
One thought repeating in my head over and over.
Something happened that night.
And somehow…
I had forgotten it.
- Writer
