Beginnings

Beginnings

By J.M. Sevilla

Copyright 2013 J.M. Sevilla

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Beginnings

By J.M. Sevilla

For my Nana who never had the chance to finish her novel and gave me the courage to write mine

and

For Catie who taught me what it truly means to be beautiful

Part 1

Prologue

The Beginning

Every story has a beginning; ours had two.

The first was the day we met. I was eight years old, it was summer time, and I was bored. It had been weeks with nothing to do. All I did was roam the lake spying on the summer vacationers. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I had climbed almost every tree I came across. I sat perched on a branch, feet dangling, wondering how I was going to fill the rest of my day, when I saw her. She was only a yard away from me. I'd never seen anybody look so sad or lost. She appeared to be the same age as me, but it was hard to tell. Her legs were tucked close to her body, arms wrapped around them, chin resting on top, with her long, almost black hair draped around her.

I jumped off the branch not worrying if the fall would hurt me. It seemed pointless to even approach her, but something in me had to make sure she was okay. The closer I got, the more I could feel her pain; it poured out of her.

I stopped when I was only a few feet away. She hadn't moved a muscle, I didn't even see her blink; she looked like a human statue. I knew it was silly of me, but I spoke to her.

“Are you okay?”

My voice startled her, and she turned her head in my direction. She had the most incredible eyes I had ever seen. They were a dark shade of blue-gray, and paired with her dark hair it was stunning. They reminded me of the sky just before a storm hit. I wasn't sure if they always looked like that or if the sadness escaping them made them that intense. Her beauty wasn’t lost on my eight-year-old self either. I was immediately drawn to her and those haunting gray eyes. I realized we had been staring at each other for some time.

“Well, do you talk?”

“Of course I talk,” she snapped, and went back to watching the lake. I was stunned that she acknowledged me; nobody paid attention to me.

“I'm Adam.” She was ignoring me, but I wasn't going anywhere. “What are you doing by yourself? Don't little girls like you usually play Barbies, or pretend to be mermaids in the water?”

In one swift movement she was up, arms at her hips.

“Little girl! I'm almost eight years old,” she crossed her arms and stuck out her chin, “And I hate playing barbies.” It surprised me how fired-up she got.

“What's your name?”

“Anna.”

“Do you like to skip rocks?”

She frowned, and the sadness was back on her face, “Not really.”

“I could teach you? I'm sure girls can learn.” Even as I said it I wasn't sure if that was true. Most of the girls I'd seen seemed incapable of a lot of stuff.

She grunted, glared at me, then stormed off.
Did I do something wrong?
I started to follow her when I realized she wasn't leaving, only searching for something. She bent down to pick up a rock. She walked to the edge of the water and let the rock go.
It skipped seven times.
My mouth fell open, and she smiled smugly back at me.

“That was awesome!” A huge smile spread over her face, and I was embarrassed at how pretty I thought she was, even despite her missing front tooth. “Can you do that again?” She happily shook her head yes, but this time it only skipped four times. She was disappointed so I  looked to the ground to find her the best skipping rock, ever.

“Try that one,” I said, pointing to a rock close by. She picked it up and examined it in her hands, paying close attention to the smoothness.

“Good one, thanks,” she smiled brightly at me making me blush.

That one skipped nine times!

We spent the next couple of hours finding the perfect rocks for her to skip. The final one she threw skipped twelve times. Twelve! I was in awe of her.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Her eyes clouded over, and the sadness from before returned. It pained me that I was the cause of her change in moods. Something inside me just wanted to see her happy.

“My dad,” her voice had no feeling behind it, as though all emotion had left her body.

“Where's he?” I figured her parents were divorced or something.

She looked down at her fidgeting hands, “He's dead.”

My heart broke for her. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I couldn't.

Two giggling blond girls came running towards us.

“There you are Anna! My parents had us come looking for you. It's time for dinner.” I noticed she shared the same eye color as Anna, but it didn't stand out as much on this girl. Maybe it was because of her blond hair, or the lack of storm clouds brewing in them.

“What have you been doing out here all day? It's weird.” The other girl's tone annoyed me. She was talking down to Anna and I didn't like it.

“Skipping rocks,” Anna replied.

They both made a face at each other expressing how boring that sounded, then ran off giggling some more.

“I better go...” she stood there, not wanting to leave. She looked at me, then back at the lake before she walked away.

“Hey Annie!” The name fell out, and it suited her; I liked it. She turned around. “Meet me here tomorrow morning.” Her face lit up, and I beamed back at her. She only nodded, then ran off.

I'm not sure what time it was when she came back the next morning, but it felt early. When she spotted me she seemed surprised to see me waiting for her.

“I wasn’t sure if you'd be here.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

She shrugged.

We decided to make the worlds largest sandcastle, so we went to the house she was staying to grab the supplies.

I didn't know playing with sand could be so much fun. I told Annie what to do, and she followed my orders, word for word, never questioning why she was doing all the work.

“Wow, Annie, I bet that's the biggest sandcastle ever!” I exclaimed as we stood back admiring our work. “I think you just might be the coolest girl ever!”

She smiled ear-to-ear at my compliment.

“Did you build this?” The same girls from yesterday were staring at our castle in disbelief.

“Yup, me and Adam did,” I cringed at her words, not wanting our perfect day to be ruined.

“Who's Adam?” The snotty girl asked.

Annie looked at them like they were idiots, “The boy standing next to me.”

They looked back at her like she was the stupid one, “What boy?”

My face fell when she looked up at me; I couldn't hide it any longer.

“Annie, they can't see me.”

“What?” Her eyes looked me up and down.

“You're the only one I've met who can see me.” It hurt to say the words out loud.

Her eyes grew wide, and then she smiled, “Ha ha, you guys are funny.” She noticed the blond girls staring at her strangely, “You really can't see him?”

“You mean to tell me you have an imaginary friend?” The bratty one asked, barely keeping a straight face, “Isn't that something little kids do? Haley, you didn't tell me your cousin's a freak!”

The color drained from Annie's face, and I was mad at myself for putting her in this situation.

“I told you, Charlotte, after her parents died she got all weird,” her cousin responded, talking as though Annie wasn't standing right in front of them. I finally understood why she seemed so lost yesterday.
Both her parents are dead.
That was heavy stuff for my eight year old brain.

“Enjoy your only friend, Anna. It's a shame you had to make him up!” Charlotte yelled over her shoulder as she and Haley walked away, laughing.

Now, I know it's wrong to hit girls, but man did I want to punch her.

Annie's whole body was shaking, and her skin had turned red. “How dare you not tell me! I've lost my mind. Oh my god, I've lost my mind! I knew I was depressed after my parents died, but wow...” she was ranting, walking back and forth, “I can't believe I made up a person.” She started to ramble nonsense I couldn't understand.

“Annie, stop. Annie, please stop!” I had to shout at her to get her attention, “I was here before you saw me. Not long before, but I can remember being here for at least a couple of weeks. I tried talking to others, but everyone ignores me except you.” I was desperate for her to understand that I wasn't a figment of her imagination.

“Are you a ghost?”

“I don't know, I don't remember. The only thing I know is my name is Adam, and I'm eight years old. One day, I was just here, by the lake. I don't remember anything else.”

“Why can I see you?” Confusion was all over her face, but at least she had calmed down.

“I don't know, but I'm glad you can.” I became aware of how glad I was that it was specifically her, too. “I kept roaming around the lake, confused and lonely. I can't eat or sleep. I can't even feel things. When I found you sitting by the lake looking so sad I had to go to you. I didn't expect you to answer me.”

“You don't sleep? Like ever?”

“Nope.”

“But, you helped me build the sandcastle.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “I only told you what to do, you did all the work. I thought for sure you would notice, but you never did. You were having too much fun.”

“Oh,” her shoulders slumped and she became lost in thought. “What now? I don't want you to go. I like having you around.”

“I don't want to go, either.” We sat in silence for a long time. I was afraid she would find me too strange and leave me all alone again.

“I've decided what we're going to do,” her expression was stern, “You have no place to go, and I like having you around. You can come live with me, okay?” I smiled so widely at her I thought my face might split open, and she smiled back at me the exact same way. To our eight-year-old minds the logic made perfect sense.

We spent the rest of the day having fun together. When people stared at her for talking to herself she didn't care.

At dinner time, I sat on the kitchen counter while she ate with her aunt, uncle, cousin, and her cousin's friend.

“You sure you don't want anything, Adam?” Annie was holding out a bread roll.

“I told you, I can't eat.”

“Oh, right.”

Haley and Charlotte were giggling and I knew it was at Annie's expense, which angered me.

“Who's Adam, dear?” Her aunt asked.

“Her imaginary friend,” Haley responded between laughs. Her aunt frowned and looked at her husband, trying to get his attention, but he was absorbed in his food. For the rest of dinner she kept staring at Annie with concern.

That night was the first of many I spent by her side. Something had been nagging me all day, and I finally had the courage to ask her.

She was laying in bed with the light off. I was sitting on a dining table chair she had moved earlier.

“When did your parents die?” Pain washed over her face and I regretted asking.

“Last fall.” She closed her eyes, and it appeared she had fallen asleep.

“It was raining, and we were coming home from the movies. There was something on the road and the car in front of us tried swerving around it. The rest happened so fast,” she paused to take a shaky breath, eyes tightly closed.

“My mom's side of the car was smashed in by the front of the other car. My dad called out my name,” she croaked out the words, it was clear how much pain this story caused her.

“I was okay, I told him so. We looked to my mom and her body was limp, unmoving. My dad let out a cry that haunts my nightmares. She was dead, and he knew it. I was sitting behind my dad in shock, when I felt another blow to the car. That time our side, mostly the front end, and it rammed into him, hard. He slumped against his seat. Dead, both of them.” When she opened her eyes I wanted to take away the sorrow she felt. I wanted to take away any pain she ever felt, and only bring her happiness.

She started crying, “They were gone, and I only had some cuts and whiplash. The rest is a blur. The ambulance, the hospital, the funeral, my life up until now. Why did they have to die? I loved them so much, Adam. They were perfect parents, why did they have to die?” She was crying into her pillow and my heart broke into a million pieces. I vowed to myself from that moment on I would be her protector, I would be the one to make sure she was happy. I watched as she cried herself to sleep, and I kept watching her until the sun came up.

By the end of her vacation she was acting like any normal, happy eight year old. She even told me her nightmares had stopped and I felt a sense of pride that my being there helped her.

Annie talked to me like everyone could see me, and I noticed even her uncle becoming concerned. It became clear that if I was to stay with her we had to come up with a system of communication. I didn't want people regarding her as a freak. She tried to tell me it didn't matter, she didn't care what people thought, but I insisted.

What we came up with was this: if I talked to her in public, she never directly responded to me. She used body language to answer. A raised eyebrow meant she didn't understand, a tilt of her head to the right meant yes, scrunching her brows meant no, and so on. Over the years our codes didn't matter as much. I knew her so well, it was almost as if I could hear her thoughts.