.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

SWEET MELANCHOLY

PROLOGUE

00. the dedication

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THE SUMMER SUN HIT HER SKIN, pricking at the bare points with its soft warmth. Had she been any younger, any happier she would have basked it in — with a content smile, she'd drag her thumb against her skin with a hum. The problem was, she wasn't any happier. She hadn't been for a long time. It's almost as if happiness simply didn't exist.

April Ambrose was fourteen years old in the year of 1989. Looking back on her childhood, she wasn't exactly sure what had occurred at all, all she remembered was happiness, warmth, and sometimes, the large squeaky old bike. She blamed her inability to recall anything on 'bad memory' despite remembering everything after her senior year like it was yesterday.

The year was now 2016 and April Ambrose was now living in the rainy land of Seattle. She kept herself busy, with work and therapy appointments and all other things you'd deem important. After two years in university, she impulsively decided to drop out. Partly due to a depression which started after she woke up from a coma at fourteen-years-old (she never recalled how she ended up in one and she preferred not to know) and also partly because she felt no passion in the courses she studied.

And so, she took her first leap of faith which ultimately brought her success. After dropping out, she'd start a jewellery brand, Camvrózi. A name inspired by her maiden name in her families native language, Greek and fathers first initial. Jewellery-making had been her strongest passion her entire life. It was the one thing which she could remember doing since she was young. By some miracle, she had succeeded with it — her brand being worn widely around the world by people of many social status'. She was up there with Tiffany and Co. and Chanel. It was something she'd never expect considering all this began with her learning how to create friendship bracelets.

Despite her success, April continued to be unhappy. Or, more accurately, simply numb. She was beyond grateful for her brand but still, a part of her longed for adventure, A part of her was too scared to tell him that she was truly unhappy, being here, having nothing to do. really, truly, unhappy with her life. but, then again, she couldn't exactly recall the last time she was happy.

Maybe, perhaps, it was during her senior year? Before her dad had passed away after two year long battle with lung cancer. Oh, dear. no, that's not it. She doesn't recall ever being happy in Seattle. All she really remembers was the way her parents mentioned how happy she once was. And, how Holly grew farther and farther away from her bitter, pessimistic girlhood and flourished into a thriving, successful young doctor all the while April begin to feel herself wither away.

She didn't recall those years her parents would so often speak of. They would always mention it, speaking about a girl who was once so happy and a girl who shined like sunshine. She wasn't exactly sure why her father would ask about 'Sunshine Ambrose', wondering where she went as he coughed and heaved on his deathbed. She wasn't even sure what he meant. No one's ever called her Sunshine. It was like he knew of things she didn't, but surely, that's impossible.

There was many things April was missing, the memories of her childhood and her father's advice the most prominent. she was trapped and lost and confused in a life she could have never pictured with a shell of her former self.

That being said, the one thing April truly knew about her childhood was about the six-month medically-induced coma she was in. She never asked for details and her parents were never able to give them to her. Not because they never wanted to tell her but because they weren't ever really sure themselves.

Things she should know about herself were fuzzy and she's never felt more helpless. She felt a part of herself go missing and she wasn't exactly sure where it went. All she knew was that what she knew was not enough to bring her to the safety of peace she so awfully desired. After all, there's no scar for happiness.

She'd contemplate these things often. About her emptiness and lack of memory. Sometimes, she'd confide in her therapist when things would get especially bad. However, as of late, she found herself coping with it. Which brought us here, she strolled down the street, her sandals slapping against the hot sidewalk. The sound of her keys in her tote bag jangling. She adjusted her black sunglasses which sat on her nose, pushing them up so they sat atop her head, acting as a makeshift headband within her curly hair.

She was on a mission. Well, not exactly. She only told herself that because it made her feel more productive. Staying home when she didn't have anything to do made her feel bored and going out when she had nothing to get made her feel counterproductive which made herself constantly at a crossroads with her days activities.

She sighs as she passes a small boutique, recalling the one time she had gone in and purchased a flowing dress for a family dinner at her in-laws. It was gorgeous, a soft teal with lace accents on the bell-bottom sleeves but the price was ridiculous. Despite the fact that she had quickly risen up to living more than comfortably due to both her brand and husbands job as a lawyer, she still found herself cringing at the idea of spending large amounts of money for no reason at all.

Nolan had always told her that it was okay to indulge sometimes, just as long as you understood when to stop. And, he was correct but that didn't stop the nagging voice at the back of her head telling to her live a simple life of cheap coffee from the mom-and-pop shop down the street from the park she would frequent when she felt particularly uninspired and second-hand books which smelled damp from age.

He had always worried about her. Telling her that it was okay to let loose and constant being there for her whenever she felt herself decline into nothingness. He held her hand and helped her persevere. Nolan Neufield loved her with all his heart and it was a fact. He'd do nearly anything in order to ensure her happiness, even when it meant sacrificing his own. Though, precarious at times, he found such joy in the way her lips curled up every now and again. Though, he had never saw her eyes sparkle in that one specific way he had seen in some of the old pictures of her when she was around fourteen. It seemed to radiate true happiness. Since seeing them, he strived to get it.

Backpedaling to the topic of second-hand books, however, she had been meaning to pick up a new book. She had just finished her latest, Catcher In The Rye. It had been her fathers favourite, hence why her sister was named Holden — a nod to the notorious Holden Caufield. April hadn't read it since tenth grade and hadn't been able to convince herself to pick it up since his death.

She needed a change from the classics she had grown so used to reading. Lord of the Flies, The Great Gatsby, and Jane Eyre simply weren't cutting it for her at the moment. There was a book shop just down the sidewalk she was walking on.

Tugging softly at the waist of the navy floral midi skirt she wore, she tread towards the shop she purchased her books from. Some were new, most were old. She would often purchase classics which had already been well-loved and dogeared on the pages. Maybe, today she'd find something new.

She hums as she passes by other people walking down the bustling streets of Seattle. Growing closer to the door of the shop, she runs a hand through her curly hair before coming to a stop and twisting the brass doorknob into the small shop. The bell above her chimed, identifying her entrance and the bookstore clerk looked up from where they stood at the cash register with another costumer and smiled as a greeting

April smiled back weakly, nodding her head as the smell of parchment and ink filled her nose. It was oddly comforting in a way. She enters the shop fully, watching as dust particles floated through the air as she walked about the store front.

There was always the new book displays up front. They changed them weekly, she knew this merely because she frequented this specific bookstore so much that she took notice of their schedule. Running her hand along the spine of a book, she read the titles which sat among a shelf curiously. None specifically caught her attention at all.

She'd go on like this for around ten minutes, listening as more people shuffled in as she wandered throughout the twist and turns of the shelves which crowded the small shop. Nothing. Nothing had caught her eye yet and she was beginning to grow irritated with herself for not even finding an option to purchase. She was walking around mindlessly until...

Wait, there. Something caught her eye. It sat on a black wire book holder, angled slightly towards the books it shared its shelf with. With quick strides, her dress flowing behind her, she wrapped her fingers around the spine, picking it up. It was a brand new book with crisp edges and unread pages.

And, So It Rains. She read the title, feeling urged to open it up and begin right here, right now despite not even knowing a stitch of information about the book she held in her hand. It was relatively large, she estimated it would take her around two weeks to finish. Her eyes flit down to the authors name, wondering if she had maybe read one of their works and had put it to the back of her head to read this specific book and she had just simply forgotten.

But, she didn't recognize the name. Bill Denbrough. Well, she didn't exactly recognize the author. There was something oddly familiar about the name. Bill... Bill... Bill Denbrough! Ah, that's it. That's just it, she recalled! He had a consulted with Camvrózi for an engagement ring a few years back. She only remembered because he was one of the first known people to ever consider buying from her brand. It had fallen through however. She tilts her head, staring down at the book before she shrugs, telling herself to 'Just get it,' and she listens in that moment.

♧

She made her way back to her car, content without the purchase she had made. It hadn't yet dawned on her that she hadn't even read the synopsis at the back of the book. She was going in absolutely blind but for some strange reason, every part of herself was telling her to get the book.

There was something so familiar about the name and April knew well that it wasn't just because of the consultation. A mere consultation wouldn't have made her compelled to buy a book. It was something April couldn't put her finger on but, then again, there were many things she couldn't put her finger on.

Like, that one time she went to New York for business and she stumbled into a designer store merely because one of the names in the brand was familiar... Marsh. Or, that other time Holly mentioned a comedian performing in their area. What was his name, again? Richie Tozier? Yes, that's it. The name itself have her whiplash and she wasn't even sure why.

That being said, there were many things in her life which she was unable to understand and she resented herself harshly for it. Feeling as if it were her fault some how. She'd gone to doctors before, inquiring about why she couldn't recall anything up to a certain point and they all said the same thing. That it was her brian repressing the trauma of her head injury and coma. Part of her wanted believe it even though most of her didn't.

She seats herself into the drivers seat of her car, locking the doors and checking the backseat out of habit as she places the small brown paper bag which carried the book on the centre console before sticking her key into the ignition and powering the car on. The bluetooth screen lights up, the radio playing loudly before she presses mute as she feels herself grow more and more tempted to flip open the pages of the book and just start reading here, parked on the side of the street.

It was almost like she couldn't control her action as she reaches for the bag, the sound of the paper crinkling as she pulls the book out and places the bag to the passenger seat before running her hand across the cover softly. She flips the hardcover open, reading the title once more and seeing that this particular book was his debut novel, initially published in 1995 before she began to flip the pages to the first one.

April was never one to read the dedications of books, she simply never found them interesting. Or, relevant to the plot at all so she'd often just skip them altogether. But, something within her told her to read this one. Her hand brushing against the paper as she turned to the dedication page, the Times New Roman font staring up at her in matte black ink and she swore she felt her heart flutter at the sight. Emotions flooding her, her stomach dropping while her heart glowed all at the same time and she wasn't even sure why.

It all felt so familiar. This book, these words, this name. There was no rhyme or reason to it besides the fact that it just felt right as her eyes scanned the dedication over and over again like a madman. Reading it over and over continuously and for the first time in nearly twenty-seven years, there was a spark in April Ambrose's eye.

♧

AND, SO IT RAINS
bill denbrough's debut novel

dedicated to
the girl with sunshine in her eyes,
wherever and whoever you are. i miss you.