Amelia

Amelia

Snow and mist have never been rare in where I live. It’s magical how nature is trying to talk to us, share the sorrow it is surrounded with in winter. Cold, unmerciful days of winter. Everybody’s sick. Even Santa fights fever. Have you ever had a…what they call - fever dream? I have. When my nose is runny, temperature’s high and my whole body is falling apart, my mind starts shattering into tiny pieces. Past and present, existent and nonexistent merge each other and an utter ball of fuzz conquers my dreamland. It gets messier, as my thoughts progress. A curl that my sick mind creates reminds me of grandma’s wool ball. Except she always had them rolled in the tidiest way. In my case it’s almost impossible to find the ending or the beginning of the rope. They get swallowed in my head very easily and by morning, I don’t remember nothing but only pieces of what my subconscious might have been surrounded before.

Lately I have been dreaming of one thing only. A playground. Emptied out of children. Sank in snow. My attention always stops at the slide. I like how quiet it is. Nobody uses it, since the day it broke. It never got fixed. Steel giant just stays put and watches everyone laugh and play. Parents prohibit their kids to go any close to it, but still, some of them use it for hiding, when they play hide and seek. I like to just watch it, while sitting on the bench. The calm energy it radiates, perfectly mixes with the general chaos.

Today is January fifth. It’s extra misty, for some reason. It’s almost midnight now. I’m in my room ready to start journey called – sleep. God knows what will happen. I close the windows and blow the candle which makes the light in my room vanish. Closing my eyes, I feel how I leave what is called – real and start cognite surreal. I see the slide, but I am alone, walking towards it. Children usually hide behind it, but this time it’s different. She is calling me for something important. She needs to tell me it now or never. I see the shadow of a young girl. And I recognized.

-         Penelope? – I asked with horror. Knowing she was dead.

-         Amelia… do you still remember me?

-         Of course I do. How could I forget – Penelope, my twin sister disappeared. Years later, mother convinced me she was not alive.

-         Are you still mad at me, Am?

-         I never was… why would you say that…

-         Mother told me you did not need me and you were mad at me.

-         When did she tell you that?

-         Right before she had kicked me out of the house.

-         What?! She did what? – my eyes widened.

-         It’s okay… does not matter right now, you can not help me anyways.

-         Can I see you again?

-         Maybe.

-         Where?

-         Right there, Under the bushes of rose. She always said she loved roses and violets.

I remembered she was talking about planting violets in the near future.

-         See you soon, Amelia…

Shadow of Penelope traced her way in the mist. I sat down on the bench that used to welcome me while my head was full of nothing but sickness. The bench was repainted white. It looked marvelous in the snow. I felt numb in that moment. I did not know what to do. I wished to repaint my life just the way painters did with this bench, so it covered all of its' flaws. Two snowflakes started dancing waltz in the music of night and i watched them fly together, until they separated. One followed the wind, witch was becoming bolder and bolder with it's words. The other landed on my cheek, quickly formed into a tear, witch i couldn't produce myself anymore, circled my nose and found it's way to the delta of my lips. I sat there for a while... not minding the fact everything i saw there was a part of my imagination. i was woken up by my mother's yelling.

• Amelia! you are sleeping too much! - she said patting my shoulder.
• Oh... - I was confused.
• why won't you come help me in the garden - she said, winking.
• But...
• No more but's from you, god you are just like your mother - she liked to compare with my real mother. The one who left us - me and my sister by her door. She taught us grace, politeness, right use of fork and knife. I still have wounds on my back, as she used to beat me and my sister with a whip, forcing us to walk in heels properly. Now, i do not know what my sister did unsuitable for her tasteful, rich and elegant life but certainly she did not think twice to punish her. And like my sister says, i am next.
• Get up now, and do not forget your gloves.
• why mother? - i asked.
• Oh, have not i tell you already? i want to better my garden, i would like to plant some violets today.
• But mother, it is winter. Ground is full of snow.
• you are no fun... now come on. Run! - she yelled when she caught me hesitate.

Garden was beautiful in it's way. Green was sorrowed, but white soft blanket could catch anybody's eye. Some of the plant's, i guess ones who did not stop fighting were visible under the infinity of white.

• So? - i asked, trying to put my gloves on. Eyeing the tools she bought for digging the soil.

I looked around and saw the bush of roses laying down in misery, ray of sunshine was surrounding them, mourning them. Since everybody else forgot about them long time ago.

• So what, start digging...
• Oh? me?
• Yeah, you - she answered with a grin.
• No you dig, mother, i am a little cold.
• Oh come here, you silly pothead! - she grabbed me by the neck and i got scared, everything happened very quickly, i... i hit her. i got worried, i looked at her dead eyes staring at me.

I saw two snowflakes coming at where i was, and i looked at them. Now i did not know what to do. lost like a little snowflake, but happier that i finally left what i called - home.