2000, Greenville Massachusetts
The sky was dark and eerie. The highway was filled with mere lights, racing against each other on both directions. A young girl around the age of 17 was walking on a narrow path untouched by the taunting beams. Yet she could feel slight gushes of wind sweep itself beneath her shins. The girl had no look of fear. She appeared young, innocent, and lonely. She looks up, attention riveted by the sound coming from a huge hovering vessel right above her. It was a plane, its engines roared like thunder amidst the monotonous honks that constantly resonated from the roads. As if to further explain what she had just seen, different sounds suddenly came rolling in, screeching noises of rubber against cement, a woman’s voice coming from speakers announcing flight schedules. The girl’s head jerked sideward at which she saw a white sign board bordered with a green line, 3 miles south was an airport. But why was she there? Then came a yellow taxi, driving at a speed that exceeded its limit. The driver was out of control, cars were moving out of their way to let him pass. But it was futile. The taxi slammed against a trailer. Shards of glass disseminated from all sides. Police came running towards the wreckage. The girl followed suit. What she saw tormented her. A middle aged couple were on the back seat of the taxi, blood soaked. Their hands were still gripped together despite the terror they went through. An ambulance carried the passengers to a nearby hospital. The girl sighed and closed her eyes. The next scene she saw utterly confused her. In the hospital where the couple lay, an old lady was crying, lamenting over her loss. Next to her was a little girl who did not shed a tear but instead looked at the remains of her parents without a dab of emotion in her countenance. The little girl looked very much like herself, simply two years younger.
Robyn woke up panting heavily. She’d been having the same dream for a week. Two years ago her parents had died from a car crash after coming back from a business meeting abroad. She had been living with her grandmother since then. Violet Roberts had been very tough on her. The loss of her only daughter killed every remains of affection in her being and Robyn had been confronting her cold heart for nearly two years now. She glanced at the blue digital clock on her side table and sighed.
“It’s only five thirty in the morning” She thought aloud while she rubbed her eyes off sleep “School starts at 8.”
She set aside her blanket and decided to take a shower, clear up her mind with it maybe. Opening her closet, she hanged her uniform on the small hook behind the bathroom door. She looked about her room, it has been 2 years since she’d lived here. 5 blocks away was her old home, the home she shared with the parent’s she’d spent time with until the mere age of 15 but who’s memory shall live within her for eternity. Her grandmother agreed to take her in that same night of her parents’ accident. Robyn had always believed it was out of pity that her grandmother adopted her. Her features took a living semblance of her mother’s and she knew that Violet resented a single recollection of her daughter more so if everything about Robyn evoked those very memories. It took Robyn nearly 30 minutes to finish bathing, the past constantly replayed across her mind while the water slowly grazed her skin. By the time she went down for breakfast, her grandmother was already reading the paper, feigning awareness of her presence.
“Good morning grandmother!” Robyn said with a smile while she seated herself on the other end of their long mahogany dining table.
“Robyn…” Violet began.
Disturbed by her grandmother’s willingness to actually talk to her today, Robyn had a slight superstition what this conversation would be all about.
“You have a meeting with Quaid Sinclair today after school.”
Robyn merely sighed. For nearly two years her grandmother had been planning to marry her off with this Sinclair guy she believed would be a perfect match for her. She hated the prospect of meeting a man she didn’t know anything about only that he is seven years older with a good family background much like hers, and to think she’s only seventeen, practically too young to be married of to a complete stranger.
Violet cared less about her silence, she was determined to get this meeting over with as soon as possible, but her granddaughter’s stubborn nature was always in the way.
“Don’t screw it up this time, its been two years since I’ve been planning your meeting with him and based on what Terry tells me, you’d disappear almost every time!”
Robyn smirked at that remark. Their chauffer loved her dearly she knew, but when it’s about meeting this guy, she just can’t help but defy him on that score.
“You just can’t marry me off like this grandmother! I still got plans to go to college and take a degree in management. I want to be just like father!”
“Enough of this non-sense!” Violet’s eyes widened with rage at the memory of the man who was partly responsible for her daughter’s loss, “You are a girl, and what you need is a husband. College won’t do you any good. You just have to stay home and attend to your family once you have one!”
“Can’t I just study first then marry after! It’s the same thing! I’ll work part-time and pay off my schooling!”
Violet stood up with a glare in her eyes that always caused the hair on Robyn’s neck to stand on ends. “You will get on with the meeting this afternoon Robyn, and to make sure you don’t go disappearing this time, I will join Terry in fetching you from school whether you like it or not.”
Robyn slowly stood up, her chair gliding backward, rubbing itself against the marble floor of the dining room, the creaking resonating from every corner. She stared at her grandmother, on the verge of tears.
“Why can’t you just let me do what I want? I’d be happier you know. You just want me to be like you, cooped up in a house with nothing to do but interfere with other people’s lives!”
With that she ran out of the dining room stopping at the arched entrance to look back at her cruel grandmother hoping to find a trace of mercy in her countenance. But all she saw was an old woman unnerved by harsh words. As she slammed the main entrance door and met up with Terry on the gates, she didn’t see Violet’s eyes warm.
“It’s not about you being happy my child, its about you being safe.”
******
posted by Mye @ 9:18 AM
2 Comments:
loved the play of words in the first paragraph... nice story mye, it trully is a sad reality :P
woops! spelled truly wrong :D
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