TWO YEARS AGO (DEBUTANTE BALL)

"Are we really doing this?" A jounce of excessive giddiness bosoms around my body in rapid shrills as he runs towards me so eagerly, like a valiant knight saving me from my own disdain.

"Nothing can stop us now, my queen." Nathan smacked my lips and embraced me tightly; both of us sharing an ooze of rebellious excitement. "Quick! Get in the car! It won't take long until Eric realizes you haven't returned." Having run down the stairs in ridiculously high heels, I missed and stumbled upon a few steps, and I squealed in fear of falling even further until Nate got a hold of my waist just right on time. 

"Have you forgotten I'm wearing a gown? I need to change first. In a couple of blocks ahead, when we reach to Taleauve Boulevard, you will see an apartment right across the pastry shop. You drive while I dictate the directions as we go along," I said. Taking off my heels, I heard the cries of my throbbing, aching feet. 

Having settled down after much bickering, Nathan started driving, and just like any other road trip, the whole ride consisted of irreplaceable moments worth going back to. As we talked about our shared dreams and plans, we come across inevitable arguments, but by the time we found common ground, I lean my head closer to Nate, and he responds with kisses on my forehead, with one hand caressing my left leg and the other hand on the steering wheel.

Finally, we have arrived at my seventeeth birthday present: a high-ceilinged, cozy, two-storey apartment built with an up-to-date sense of creativity and architecture.

Despite the urgency to pick up some things, like some clothes and a couple of bucks, we were distracted by the fact that we were alone in such a vacant house. We heard no other voices other than our very own, and that led us to connect at an entirely different line.

Nathan pushed me onto the bed aggressively as he unbuttons his polo shirt one by one and he looks at me in the eyes in the most lustful glare. He flipped me over; my breasts hitting against the smoothly pressed bedsheets. The coolness of the mattress penetrating my skin was suddenly submerged by heat and tension.

He unzipped my gown slowly, and it fell like light feathers swirling around my legs toward the ground. He ravished the scent of my delicate skin; and whilst he took pleasure gazing the parts of me that I had taken no pride in, his hands were joyous. They trekked on the way to the promised land; gently stroking from the back of my neck. They headed south to my irresistible curves and then made their way to the bottom of my spine, feeling the dimples of my back and barely holding back from touching my seemingly round, perky bottom.

He was breathing too heavily. I could tell he was afraid of what he might do to me, but I knew he was in sound mind and complete concentration; analyzing every inch of my body. By the way his eyes summoned at me, it was quite difficult to decipher whether he wanted me to challenge him to a fair fight, considering I haven't been to a wrestling match. He goes on top of me; his knees locking my legs from escaping. He bends over to kiss me, with his hands intertwined in mine as he pushes them harder.

"Wait. Nate, I — don't know how. It's my — I'm, uh, a — virgin," I said, trying to conceal the feeling that I was head-over-heels of his dominance towards me.

"Then it shall be my honor, Avery."

We relished every second. In every heartbeat we shared, it was only on that particular night when time deemed an ally. It did not interfere the connection and the fullness of love swirling around, nor did it rush things and force it to morphe into different translations.

When the sun had risen, I grimaced at Nate's face as he drooled on one of my pillows with his mouth wide open, right hand underneath his head while the other hand placed in the middle of his sternum, palm facing down.

"Looks like someone got a little too carried away last night. Must've been the cowgirl," I cackled when thoughts flashed back in my mind in an instant; grinding my index finger against my teeth.

I acted like everything was fine but my mind was adamant in telling me to leave Nathan before everything got too complicated. My conscience was bruised but the objections from my brain prevailed.

Having left the apartment, I went back to the mansion. I sulked inside my room for days, barely eating, refusing to talk to anyone. The monsters inside me took advantage of every dark emotion, until I realized I needed to be with my best friend, Sarah Chrivsen.

She was the only one I could talk to during self-crises like this when all I could think of is to hit pause and drown myself in self-pity; plummeting rock bottom.

A philanthropist has she grown to be. She has a heart so full of empathy, and that led her to see the best in people. As best friends, we shared a lot in common in almost everything. Her parents kept traveling throughout the majority of her life, and like many others, trained their child to justify their absences with the glory of money.

I took the subway to get to Cathy Munthard Village, Trepossiene. As soon as I arrived, I saw Drew Hillstone playing fetch with his dog over the pool. He was Sarah's long-term boyfriend, and they have lived together long enough to treat themselves like a real, married couple. Like my relationship with Nate, their love story was complicated due to family status, but because Sarah's parents weren't there enough to play matchmaker on their daughter, they didn't have that much of a choice.

For two years, I was beyond happy. We went to different kinds of places and met people from varying walks of life; each entitled with a story. My whole stay at Trepossiene was like a breath of fresh air, a sanctuary. It was enlightening in all forms. The adventure I had with them pulled me out from the whirlwind of depression I was entrapped in. I was saved. It reawakened my purpose in life as they aided me to tread on a trajectory that will lead me towards discovering the entirety of my being.

Having planted a seedling of hope, I decided to start again.

"I wish you didn't have to leave." Sarah scooped me into her arms and rested her head on my shoulders in a warm embrace; hugging me firmly as she refuses to be seen with watery eyes and trembling lips, so full of emotion. I reassured her of my return and said, "I had the most wonderful time, Sarah. I promise I'd come back to visit you and Drew."

I had my time to think things through, but I didn't want to return back to my old life anymore. For two years, I stayed away from my parents' radar and abandoned usual routines.

Leaning myself towards a simpler life, I helped myself start from scratch. I arranged an appointment with the administrators of Wixton Academy, begged them to take me back, and persuaded them to look the other way at my absences. To propose an even greater deal, I resorted to bribing them with libraries, laboratories, expanded arenas, and amphitheaters. It seemed impossible but with my family's footing and pristine reputation, the administration would be idiots not to accept the negotiation.

My intentions were never to use my family as a power fuel to have the school under my rule, but as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. And after disappearing for two years, this was definitely a desperate time.

*******************************************

The guests started to leave the premises in an orderly fashion; all looked satisfied by the scrumptious food and over-the-top royal service. I saw Eric sharing a laugh with his peers, at least he was having a good time. And by the bar, my mom was instructing the bartender to serve more cocktails to some of the tables. Surveying the whole room, I found an opportunity to leave and go after Drew.

I was about to exit but my father stopped me by the gate, "Just where do you think you're going? You have responsibilities to fulfill. You're not a child anymore, Avery. I suggest you think about your choices thoroughly, and then maybe you could redirect yourself towards a well-off future worth emulating," he lectured.

"Exactly, dad. I'm not a child anymore, and right now my responsibility is to be with my friend who needs me."

"What will Eric's family think of your misbehavior and immaturity, huh? You're married for Pete's sake, and not just by any other man to say the least. Where do your loyalties lie?"

"Eric's my husband. I'm sure he'll understand. My loyalties, however, do not lie to people who treat their daughters like a pawn in a game whose rules alter according to their favor."

Having been surprised at my response, his eyes widened and his mouth shook in much fury. "Remember who you are talking to, Avery. I am your father. You are a disgrace to this family. Don't ever embarrass me again." He threw his hand at me with no remorse.

I looked at him with fright as I felt my slightly bruised face. I ran through the doors without turning back.

By the time I got home, I saw Drew sticking his head into the refrigerator. "I —- I haven't eaten all day. I might have eaten a piece or two in your fridge. I— I'm sorry, I'll pay you back." Drew stammers with his mouth full and his hands barely holding the mac n' cheese against his chest.

"It's no big deal, Drew. Help yourself. Feel at home," I replied. I pulled a chair and pointed at the chair across me politely, implying that I'd want him to take a seat. He took a spoon and dipped it into the bowl of mashed potatoes.

He put about three spoonfuls into his mouth before he started talking. "Your marriage was known to everyone in our province —— in tabloids, flyers, internet. You name it. Your face is all over the front page," he said.

"Drew, why did you come here? Couldn't you just send me a message or give me a call? I should've been the one to come to you like I had promised two years ago."

"I've come because those were Sarah's last requests for me. I'm sorry for having to tell you this just right now but Sarah had been terminally ill even before you came to visit," Drew admitted.

"What? Why did neither of you tell me? For the whole two years, none of you bothered to reveal something that important?" I walked around, applying pressure on my head with two fingers.

"Ho— how did she — die? I could've helped her get access to a better doctor and a more quality hospital too; no lists necessary. One call from me and she'll be treated immediately."

"No, no, she made me promise not to tell you. And believe it or not, her pain has lessened throughout your stay. Sarah responded well to medicine and improved her condition. You inspired her to live longer than her expected numbered days," he said, opening his bag to get something.

"She did tell me to give you this." Drew handed over to me a rectangular-shaped gift wrapped in a yellow motif.

"What is it?"

"It's a photo album or a journal."

"Oh, and here's a letter she wrote days before...you know...she —"

I took a deep breath before I managed to pull the strength to open the letter. My eyes began to water.

"Dear Avery,

First of all, before you make fun of me for even writing this down, I apologize for having to tell you this through a letter. I didn't want to be treated anymore. I'm sick of all the needles, the medicine, and the chemotherapy sessions. I'm sure you understand the feeling of being chained and locked up.

I give you this photo album as a token of our friendship; that even in my death, you remember me by filling in these pages with all your adventures. You document your travels and write something about it on every page.

Promise to me one thing: live your life the way your heart desires. Date as many guys as you want to. Travel. Find true love. Experience new things. Have kids. Indulge in art. Build a treehouse in the middle of a jungle for all I care. There's a whole world out there right in your fingertips, and unlike most people, you have all the means of doing so. Don't let your status and privilege be a hindrance to exploring life like a nomad.

You have always been a woman of strong will and intuition. That's what makes you wonderful. Take care. You know how much I love you.

See you in paradise, Avery.

Your best friend,
Sarah Chrivsen"

I read every line with outbursts of extreme melancholy. My tears couldn't stop falling as my heart allowed itself to succumb its way into my most loathed, morose depths of my being.

"I — I don't know what to say, Drew, I —. Bring her back, Drew. I didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. Drew, please —"

"We need to move on, Avery. It's the only way we can ever be truly free," he hugged me back with tears wallowing in his eyes.

Quietly traipsing along the long line of polished, ash gray, marble tombstones, we were spooked by the eerie feels of the graveyard in Heavenly Meadows Cemetery, about a few miles away from Drew's house in Trepossiene.

None of us spoke louder than necessary to show respect for fleeting reunions of the dead and the living. The only sounds we heard were from the old trees responsible for exhaling the cold, rustling winds that bring chills to our cheeks, and the creaking music of the weeds and dried leaves below our feet.

Both of us were pleased seeing her grave filled with recently-brought fresh flowers and lit candles. I read her name and the other inscriptions engraved in the moss-laden cement a couple of times as my ways of moving on; that if I repeatedly tell myself that she has passed away, then the parts of myself that still choose not to can learn to accept eventually.

"See you in paradise, Sarah Chrivsen," I whispered. Placing the flowers on her grave, I said a few prayers and gave Drew some time alone to bid his goodbyes.

I continued walking; looking for a place to blow off some steam. Suddenly, I saw a woman walking towards my direction with her head facing down; her hand preoccupied with a bouquet of flowers. She looked so familiar to me as if I was drawn to her by an undeniable connection.

She had this frizzy, champagne blonde hair with highlighted roots in the middle. She wore a camel coat with a classy, uptight blouse inside paired with white jeans and a pair of Chanel heels. She looked like an alpha female executive boss with tight schedules and no shortage of freeloader boyfriends.

Having noticed my rude glares, she was just as surprised as I was. She had to take a step backward, and looked at my face very closely for a good number of seconds, eyeing me from head to toe.

"Strange how after the many years that have passed, we meet again in a place known for its paradox." She spoke to me in the most condescending tone; with sarcasm flaming on the edges of her glossed lips.

I stood there all confused. Her first words baffled me to my core. Meet again? What is she talking about? My brain pushes itself to comprehend the things she's spitting out of her mouth.

Maybe I've forgotten her?
Perhaps she was my destined nemesis?
A possible rival against Nate?

She took my awkward silence as an open concession to hearing more from her, so she filled in the gaps of serenity with a question that was too strange to fathom.

"Oh dear, do you not recognize your older sister?"

I neither responded to her seemingly practical joke nor did I show an impression of me being fooled. She scoffed and reached for the pockets in her bag, took out her wallet, and showed to me a photograph of her family. She was standing in between her mother and father, and behind them was a knitted horse sealed inside a huge, rectangular frame that looked exactly as my mother's work of art in their master's bedroom. The resemblance of both frames was uncanny. Both looked precisely the same as I have last seen it.

I looked very intently at the faces on the picture without blinking. Placing my hand over my mouth, my eyes were bewildered by what they've seen. Thoughts were in desperate need of loopholes. Too many questions lingered in my mind for answers. Being perplexed would be an understatement.

However, amongst the countless questions that are bound to be shed light upon, I believe the million-dollar question is:

Why is my mother holding a baby next to a man who isn't my father?

Cemeteries are built to bury the dead. Why has fate chosen a burial ground to stir up some trouble?

Perhaps it's the best place to catch people with lots of baggage. You know what they say, those who remain slaves to their secrets keep them hidden to their grave.