Prologue
It was only suitable for the weather to be dreary. With the grey clouds, and soft drizzle falling from the darkened sky; it fit her mood entirely. This had got to be the worst day of her life. Usually, when she was in a mood such as this, she would go to her best friend. But she couldn't, for it was because of her that she was in such a mood.
Her best friend, Elyon Brown, is dead, and she, Cornelia Hale, had never felt so alone.
She had gotten the news early this morning, Mrs. Brown calling in tears. Now here she was, wandering Heatherfield park like she and Elyon had done so many times before.
Her steps were slow, and she soon came to a complete stop, looking up at the street lamp that stood in her way, a soft glow luminating from it.
Her long, blonde hair was getting wet, and for the first time, she didn't care. The bottom of her long, blue skirt was damp as well, but she didn't mind. It didn't matter anymore, nothing matters.
She started walking again, her usually big, bright blue eyes, small and glazed over, as if in a trance.
Suddenly she bumped into something hard, yet soft at the same time. She was about to fall to the ground, when a pair of strong hands grasped her arms, and steadied her.
"Hey," came a manly voice. "Sorry, Miss."
She looked down at the ground, her hair creating a curtain around her face, and gave him a slight nod.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice dripping with concern.
How could he, a complete stranger, be concerned for her? That use to be Elyon's job.
Suddenly she felt her chin being cupped by a pair on fingers, and her face being lifted up, only to be met with a pair green eyes, staring at her in curiosity and concern.
'Don't look at me like that, please. . .' Cornelia found herself thinking.
But she could tell that he was also appreciating what he was seeing. It was a look she was use to getting. She was an attractive woman at twenty-one. Her long blonde hair was the envy of a lot of girls, her face was well shaped with a bright smile, and big eyes (on days other then this), and her body was curved in the right way, usually worshiped by the male species.
Usually she would have given a flirtatious smile, and flipped her hair seductively, but she didn't have the energy. All she could do was look at him. He had green eyes, as she already figured out, bedraggle brown hair, but on him it looked good. From what she could tell he had a strong, muscular body, but he was wearing a black shirt, jeans, and a trench coat, so it was hard to tell.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, his head cocking to the side.
Again she gave him a slight nod, turning her eyes to look way from his.
"Can you talk?"
Another nod.
She heard him let out a sigh, and he let go of her chin. Then he put a hand on her arm, and started pulling her toward the gate exit of the park. When she started to whimper and tried to pull away he said, "Don't worry. I'm just gonna get you a cab home. You shouldn't be walking out her in you. . .condition. . ."
He pulled her to the edge of the street, and called down a cab then gave her twenty. "Here, tell him where you live, and go home." She looked up at him, her eyes questioning, and he offered her a smile. "You seem like a nice girl, but you really gotta go home."
And she gave him a nod.
Then she stepped into the cab, whispering her address to the driver, and settled into the seat.
She stared at the man's figure as she was driven further and further away.
She decided that he was her savior.
She hated her name. Really, what kind of name was Wilma, anyway? She hated her car, an old truck was not something a girl should be driving. She hated her hair. It was too red, too short, drew too much attention. But right now, she hated her mom.
No, it wasn't her mom she hated, it was the news she had delivered.
Her good friend, Elyon Brown, was dead.
It was a shock, like being punched in the face. She and Elyon weren't best friends, but they were close. They had met at summer camp when they were thirteen. They were the only ones who could swim four laps faster then ten minutes, which was really quiet sad in her opinion.
They had really hit it off, always keeping in touch and visiting each other once and a while.
Elyon's mother had called while she was out, leaving a message with her mother.
Now here she was, Will Vandom, driving to. . .anywhere. Well maybe not anywhere, actually. She was headed for her boyfriend Matt Olsen's house. If there was anyone she could talk to, it was him. They had been dating for three years, since her senior year in highschool, when she was eighteen. Now, being twenty-one, she can't imagine her life without him.
But then again, she had thought the same of Elyon.
Will shook her head in shame. No, nothing was going to happen to Matt, she was just still in shock. . . But she's fine now. . .she's calm. . .
Then why was she shaking so much?
She could now feel the tears flowing like a river down her cheeks, could hear her desperate sobs. She won't be able to stand this much longer. But it looks like she won't have to, some how she had been able drive through the traffic, and onto Matt's street even while in deep thought.
She parked her truck in the parking lot, and walked through the doors of the apartment building, praying that no one was wondering the hall, she didn't want anyone to see her in such a state, besides Matt anyway.
She slipped into the elevator, and pressed the number five, making it glow, and with a jolt the elevator closed its doors, and started upward. She stumbled out the doors opened again, and slowly walked toward Matt's apartment, number 42.
When she reached the wooden door, she knocked softly, and waited for a few seconds.
The door finally opened and there stood Matt, his smile faded quickly at her state of distress.
"Will?" he asked in surprise and concern. "What's wrong?"
She let out a choked sob, and jumped into his arms, crying into his chest while her hands snaked around his neck, puling herself closer. She couldn't stop the warmth the flowed over her when he wrapped his arms around her waist comfortingly.
Just shot me now! Thought the ever sarcastic Irma Lair.
She was sitting at the dinner table, listening to her father blab on and on about some new case of his. She should be more interested, she should try to listen, after all, she would be working with him.
Now that was something she was not looking forward too. Yes, she had always admired her father for what he did, he was, after all, a detective, but she never wanted his job! Then how did she end up like this? That had an easy answer.
She was afraid to disappoint her father.
Truth be told, she really wanted to become a marine biologist, but some how she had ended up at school, learning to be a detective, just like her father.
She wish she were more brave, like her best friend Hay Lin, for example.
Hay Lin was off at pilot school, living her dream. She didn't feel obligated to learn how to take care of her family' restaurant.
But her she was, funny, boy crazy Irma, becoming a detective. This will not end well.
"Irma, are you listening?" he father asked, giving her a stern look while also bringing her out of her pondering.
She jolted in surprise but gave him her best smile, "Course I am daddy." she replied.
Her father let out a sigh, it could of been in frustration, annoyance, or despair. Or, knowing her father, all three. "You know, Irma," he said, using his lecture voice. Yippee! "Not many internships come up like this. You're lucky to get this one, and this is a pretty big case we've got here."
"Right," Irma replied, playing with a strand of her light brown hair. "So what is it?"
"A girl, about a year older then you, was found dead this morning," he replied. "Her name was Elyon Brown."
Any normal student would have loved having a break off of school, to be able to go home and relax, but not Hay Lin.
There was something about being able to fly high up in the skies. To feel so free.
Her best friend Irma use to joke about how the wind would carry her away someday, since she's so light and skinny, but Hay Lin knew better. The wind was her friend.
Hay Lin let out a sigh, just listening to the windshield wipers try to keep the rain out of her way, so she could safely drive down the interstate.
She listened as the catchy beat faded away, and the announcer came back on the radio.
"Heeey everyone, it's Wildcat Joe here." said the deep, but hyper voice.
Hay Lin rolled her eyes. Couldn't he think of a better name then, 'Wildcat Joe'?
"Now it's time for the news of the day! Lest's see here. . ." there was the sound of shuffling of paper. "Aw, now here's a dosey. You easy eye water's should close your ears for a sec. A twenty-one year old woman was found dead in her apartment early this morning-"
Hay Lin turned it off. She did not need sad news to ruin her already bad day.
Well, at least a visit to Irma will cheer her up. After going home, settling in, and dealing with her parents. But after that, it was going to be her and Irma, just like it use to be.
She and Irma had been friends since grade school, back in fifth grade. From then on she and Irma had been together. Not even boys could pull them apart, something they have seen happen to other girls, but they were immune to it. Maybe it helped that Hay Lin had never been that interested in a relationship, liking her independence. Or how Irma didn't seem to have the assets to turn on boys.
But that had changed for Irma. It all happened the summer before with grade. The extra fat seemed to go away. Her face got slimmer, more angelic. Her legs were longer, chest got bigger, and she seemed to grow into her body more. By highschool, she was turning down boys left from right. She had even joked about wanting to turn some of the perverted ones into frogs.
Hay Lin let out a laugh, as she turned left. She smiled when she saw the ever familiar "Welcome to Heatherfield" sign.
"I'm home." she whispered to herself.
Taranee Cook didn't know what happened. She had been visiting with her boyfriend, Nigel, who shared an apartment with Matt Olsen.
She and Nigel were in the middle of making an early dinner, listening to Matt practice his guitar, when the doorbell rang.
It was Matt who had opened, something that was surprising to Taranee, since he never parted from his guitar after he started practicing. Then, they had heard his voice, sounding very surprised.
"Will? What's wrong?"
Will was Matt's girlfriend. Taranee had only met her six months ago, when Nigel and Matt moved in together. They instantly became friends. Will was a very introvert, and sensitive person. Taranee was like that as well, but she was more quiet and pensive, and easily distracted.
So now, here she was, her arms wrapped around Will's shoulder as she cried while Matt made some hot coco. Taranee made a hushing sound, something her mother did when Taranee was upset, and patted Will's hair.
Nigel sat near by, watching the scene in from of him with guarded eyes.
Suddenly Matt reappeared, holding a tray with four steamy cups on it. He set it down on the table, and let it cool for a while. Then he sat down on the other side of Will, on took hold of her shaking hands in his.
"What happened?" he asked her softly, stroking the back of her smooth hands. Taranee smiled at how caring he sounded.
Will shookher head, and cried harder. Taranee pulled her arms off of her as Matt took her into an embrace, and she cried into his chest.
Taranee couldn't help but feel helpless. She had never seen Will like this. She knew Will was easily hurt, but she had never sobbed her heart out. Taranee's heart clenched at the scene.
After a few minutes, Will's cries and shakes slowed down, and her breathing even out. She pulled away from Matt, and let out a sigh.
"Are you ready to tell us?" Nigel questioned. Taranee shot him a glare, but he only shrugged.
But Will gave them a nod. "Yeah. . . I'm ready." she said softly, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "My good friend. . .Elyon. . .died today. . ." she said, tears coming back into her eyes.
Taranee was shocked. She had met Elyon once before, and she was such a nice girl. So young and vibrant. . .
Will started crying again, and Taranee wrapped her arms around her once again.
Will had lost one friend, but she still had her, Taranee Cook, and she wasn't going anywhere.
Okay, this is my first W.I.T.C.H. story. It's AU, so don't think I'm completely stupid and know nothing, lol. I hope you liked it. This chapter was really just explaining each of their connection to Elyon.