~In a dream~
"But, Mum, I don't want you to go!" I cried.
"I know, Sweetheart, but it's for the best. I love you," she replied sobbing.
"I doubt that," I thought, counting the tears that escaped her eyes. Three total. Not enough to be convinced of any type of love.
My mother was a beautiful British actress and a good one at that, but I'm not stupid. I always saw through her emotions when she faked them. Something was up. She quickly kissed me on the forehead before dashing back to the family car, her high heels clicking the pavement like an impatient heartbeat.
My dad then stepped out and ran over to me. He drowned me in hugs and kisses before kneeling to my height.
"I will come back for you," he whispered into my ear.
"When?" I asked just before my voice broke.
"I don't know, Baby Doll. I just know that I will. I promise."
He glanced back at the car. My mum was putting more makeup on her already heavily-powdered face. He lightly shook his head in shame as she puckered her crimson lips at the rearview mirror. He then took his fedora off his head and placed it on mine. It slid down my tiny head until the rim reached my eyes. A giggle pushed through my sobs before I pushed it back up. Mum began honking the horn so my father gave me another kiss, said he loved me, and left.
I had no words for what happened and I still don't. I stood shocked for what felt like ten minutes. Finally, when I summoned what little physical strength I had left, I turned and saw through my blurry pupils a large cream-colored building with elegant mahogany doors. Suddenly, an elderly man opened and stepped through the doors.
"Hello! May I help you?" he greeted quietly.
"Wouldn't he be expecting me? Didn't my parents make arrangements?" I thought, at a loss of words. "I guess you can help."
With that last bit of strength, I attempted to hold the tears back. Strength could only last for so long. My lip began to quiver violently as hot tears pooled at the edge of my eyelid. One tear fell and every muscle in my body melted. I began to cry uncontrollably.
"I don't know what I'm doing here!" I cried aloud, allowing a waterfall to flow from my eyes.
The elderly man gently took my hand and guided me through the door, through the gateway of a new life.
~end of dream~
A wave of relief washes over me as a Luka Megurine song wakes me up. The dream was too clear. Too painful. I flip my entire body over and tap the "off" button on my alarm. As I rub the sleep out of my eyes, I spot a framed photo of me and L on my nightstand. I run my fingers overs the black and white plaid, diamond studded frame before slipping the photo out the back.
In the picture, L and I are wearing red Santa hats in front of a dazzling Christmas tree. He is sporting a modest smile with a candy cane stuck in his mouth. I'm smiling my widest grin while hugging him. It only makes sense. I was with L. My best friend. My big brother. Out of force of habit, I flip the the photo over and read the neon green message: "Merry Christmas, Sapphie. I love you. From: your friend, L". A tear falls on the message and scatters like glass. I pull the sleeve of my pajama top over my hand and carefully brush the fluid off.
L never admitted to anyine else that he loved them. He was always shy and masked his emotions, but when he opened up to me, the experience was like seeing Hailey's Comet. Something that can't ever be put into words, but personally, to me, it was an honor. It meant that I had his trust.
I flip the picture back around to look at him. He was always so hard to decode and sometimes I couldn't at all. Although, the windows to the soul are the eyes. In the photo, he seems immersed in complete bliss.
"It could be that candy cane," I smirk, remembering his obsession with sweets.
During my time at Wammy's House, I developed a natural concern for L. He never slept, ate only sweets, and drank only coffee. His posture was always hunched. His hands began to turn in. What I thought was unhealthy actually worked out with him. Nevertheless, I worried and still do no matter where he is.
I slip the photo back into the frame before I travel to my closet to get an outfit put on. Before shuting the door, I grab my father's light brown tweed fedora. Everyday, I stroke the small peacock feather that pokes out of the burgundy ribbon that is wrapped around the hat. I place it on my head and look into the mirror remembering my father. I quickly look away as the unanswered questions I ask everyday come flooding back to my mind. What's the point in pushing my hopes up so high that they fall twice as far? That's why I have given up on my father only a few months ago. It's is something terrible for a daughter to do, but I did it to save myself. I wanted to save my heart from losing it's last piece.
I grab my keys and school bag before locking the apartment door and leaving. I take in a deep breath of the summer morning air before stepping foot on the sidewalk, ready for today has for me. This is what every morning is like for me. My name is Shapphire Cender. I'm your typical 17-year-old English girl. I'm a dreamer, a believer, and an all-around bold person. The only thing not so typical is that I live in Japan. This is the story of my life and the adventures that I yearn for.