un named story. preface and chapter 1-surfaces.

HEY GUYS,

I would love some feedback. Sorry if the paragraphs and formatting is weird; my computer is a little crazy right now!

Preface;

Even the smell of this room I remembered. Every inch meant something different. Each memory pricked like a thin shard of glass. The storm outside was vicious just like the thoughts in my mind. It slashed the cliff tops to pieces until all was bare. Everything churning and swirling in rage. Like it, I too was angry. To some extent, in many ways my recent life much resembled a storm. Growing into chaos so quickly, brewing and then bursting. As the lighting continued to strike the darkness I remembered reluctantly the beginning of this mess, the beginning of this storm. Back to the calm before the storm. I remembered.

Chapter One;

Surfaces

Awakening to the same dust streaked sky was a tedious normality. The sun’s rays always marbled the air in an identical way. I had known this land since birth; well at least that is what they told me. Life was repetitive. Each minute was becoming more and more monotonous .The familiar sounds intruding my room each day from the break of dawn were the boundaries of my life. I had never stepped outside. Every morning I would look at my wrist and be reminded. Around it was a thick silver bangle. The inside was intricately engraved with a poem.

Reflections of what others see

Can never change who you will be

Look in another’s eye dare you not

Glance out the window smell the salt

For you will forever find a hidden sea.

This had been around my wrist for as long as I could remember and it still fit. Not only did the poem remind me of the sea, buts parts of the silver were woven wildly like waves. Not that I’d ever seen the ocean. I’d only ever asked mum about both the ocean and bangle once, she had shrugged twice. I was intrigued by its meaning, maker but mostly the poet. All details I had a hunger to discover yet I shied away from change and discovering new things. I had been brought up that way. I lived only on the surface, never digging deeper, deepness was darkness, and that scared me. When I stared at my reflection in the property’s lake on most days I only saw the first layer. Just one layer of a deep and complex life. I had never ventured further or deeper. Skimming the surface was safer.

Mum says I have lived here my whole life, a true country girl in her words. Here was the secluded dairy farm in the middle of nowhere. We got along quite well but I wouldn’t entirely call us “close.” I respected her solitude as did she mine. . Neither was ready to pour out the contents of their hearts to the other. Everything inside mine was locked up so tight that even I didn’t know what it held. As isolated from the world as we were I had grown up without many things. I had never had a friend. The notion didn’t mean that much to me only because I did not know its true meaning. Mum home schooled me but I got a lot of my knowledge from the books I read. Stories of people who lived in the city and by the sea. Stories that seemed to exist miles from where I fit into this world.

I had never been more than 2km out of town so there was a lot yet to be discovered. Sure, the rest of the world intrigued me greatly yet I was wary. There was a part of me that had no desire to cross the borders and boundaries of my life though I knew well that somewhere deep inside I yearned for answers. I yearned to break through those tight knitted seams. Lying here in the dim light of shadowed sun I pondered over what brought this sudden recollection of life so far. I wasn’t one to over think things.

The creaking of the splintered wooden floorboards on the deck woke me to reality. There were three light taps on the door before it opened bringing a stream of stinging sun with it. Mum walked in quietly afraid that I was asleep. “Indi…India?” She whispered and I moaned a reply quietly. That was all I could manage as my squinted eyes fought with the sharp rays of light. “It’s eight o’clock already. You’ve slept in. You aren’t sick are you?” She murmured whilst checking my forehead for a temperature. As I sat up I rolled my eyes at her. If I was certain of one thing, mum did worry way too much. “No I am fine Mum, please. Absolutely fine but I am so sorry.” I felt terrible by the looks of it mum had been up for hours. “Don’t fret Indi. Stay in bed if you want to. I’ve done most of the work and Nicholas is fixing that fence down by the Jacaranda so there’s no need. Today just relax you need sometime to be you.” Mum seemed to be in a contemplative mood. “What’s gotten into you? Have you drunken too much of that herbal tea? I always knew that stuff was iffy” I stared at her but her eyes were elsewhere, lost and confused. She sighed and struggled a smile. “Just… have fun.” Something was intruding her usually settled thoughts. She seemed restless as she left the room silently.

I jumped out of bed to get changed confused by mum’s sudden initiation of emotion. It was like she was a different person; she’d gone from a farmer to some type of peace singing hippie. What was next? Bells around her ankles bucket loads of tie dye? I quickly glanced out the window to check she hadn’t gotten the feathers and flowers out. But there she was trimming hedges. From the outside she looked sane enough. I couldn’t see the inside. I sprinted out the front door and skipped the steps out the front until I was on the grass. Mum didn’t see my come up behind her and begin helping with the eggs. But once she realised what I was doing she grabbed my arms and sighed. “Please I don’t need any help today India. Have some time out.” I continued to stare into her vacant eyes. She picked up my right arm and touched the bangle stroking the weaving waves. “Off you go.” I then decided she must want time alone. Surrendering I sat on the front steps for most of the day, until she begged me to find some merely occupying activity.

So I skipped inside in search of that. As I walked past the mantle piece where mum put the mail an olive green envelope caught my eye. It was addressed to Ms Sara Triscott, mum’s maiden name. It was opened already and inside was a letter two shades lighter than the envelope. I wasn’t usually one to snoop but the letter intrigued me. The hand writing was rough and raw. It was scrawled unevenly across the page. The only thing I managed to consume from the letter was, Sara love. Please return home. That glimpse was all I got before I heard the screen door and leaped. Trying to hide the evidence. Mum eyed me cautiously, aware of the guilt etched in my eyes.

“Indi please, find something to do.” Conceding to her pleads I shuffled in the direction of the back door, with one glance back I saw her grab the letter and scrunch it into a tight creased ball before aiming for the waste paper bin. Confused I decided to escape to the lake, to my place.

I don’t know how much of that rancid letter Indi saw. If anything she looked more mystified than hurt. Still, copious conclusions could be drawn from the vehement first line. She knows I’m avoiding her and I can see the worry wearing her eyes. These hours should be spent together but her presence stings and compels me to question the decisions I’ve made. Space is better. Sometimes love makes us do stupid things. She’ll understand one day. She just needs some salt.