She was a loner, the black-haired, green-eyed little foreigner who no one knew—she hardly even knew herself—and walked inside a row of invisible lines that kept her course straight, kept her in one direction, and never let her be different. She was a pushover. Letting her feelings be her for her, and not making her own choices. She didn't know how to be happy because she knew no independence, freewill, or even anybody.
In her own town, she was a stranger. No matter how many times the people tried to get to know her, she wouldn't let anyone in, as if she was afraid her "master" would be against it. It wasn't an explainable presence. It was only a feeling. No one could understand it. No one could see it. She barely could herself.
Day after day, she went through the same routine—a day at school with no contact of anyone or anything and she'd keep to herself. It was always a lonely rainy day for such a girl, but maybe she enjoyed watching the stormy clouds and listening to the roaring lightening. People could watch her and watch her and never know what she was thinking. It was as if she was holding it all in. No storm was too chaotic to push past her thick barriers for she was a rock hard wall that, again, no one knew. On the outside, she always wore a white dress shirt, a black skirt, and usually little girls' shoes that showed part of her foot and laced at the side. The skirts in which she wore, sometimes displayed a flower or a heart. Her tights were embedded with even more flowers and were an off-white color. Around her neck, was a tight collar-like necklace and in the middle of it was another heart, but of a glass-like material. She wore these items with no emotion, but a dreamy gaze constantly plastered onto her face or even a scowl occasionally. Her plain face was framed with her thick black hair with bangs draping at her cheeks and against her forehead. Beneath the hair, watched her dark green eyes that, because of their bold color, drew little attention, but when that attention was drawn, they would be all you could think about for the rest of the day as they were cold and mysterious, like a puzzle waiting to be solved which required much pondering and contemplation. It was a frustrating conundrum in which you just couldn't give up. Not until you figured it out, but that one determined person hadn't seemed to look into those eyes yet. Those dark eyes held even darker lashes that seemed to be giving her green orbs a sort of refuge or hiding place that didn't quite do enough covering, but it was just enough to convince anyone who was naïve that they had been safe.
She sat alone in class, at lunch, played alone at break time and P.E., rode the bus alone, and walked the way home alone. She was always by herself, but was she really alone? Physically, of course she was. But it was impossible that someone could go through this much time not talking to anybody around her, especially when they tried to be nice.
But even though no one knew much about her, they did know one thing. Her name was Olivia Saberhagen. She had an everyday first name, but a very unusual last name, as her origin remained unknown.
She lived in a world of ebony. It was dark. It wasn't clear to her and she had made no effort to look past the bark which covered the surface of the big, round tree. Again, she'd only known how to stay inside herself, locked up, yet she was like a prisoner to her own mind. She was shackled against the corners of nothing where she could not explore her own thoughts; just sleeping away her days as the presence that lived within her lived for her. She was very alive, yet so dead.
In this well, there was no hole to climb out of. And, once more, it was dark, damp, and lonely. She was always by herself… but she was never alone.
Her parents seemed cold and distant most of the time, but they weren't really. They just never knew what to do. An unresponsive daughter which seemed depressed could have been a sign of some mental insufficiency, but who were they to go to? All the doctors said she was perfectly fine, never once taking into consideration that she may be the victim of a never heard of setback, just now starting to surface. Even if it wasn't a born illness, maybe it was something that was wrong with her mind that she could have caused or another person could have triggered. And their answer was the same—it needed to be dealt with. They loved their daughter very much and they didn't want to see her suffer anymore. She was never mean, just cold. And she always looked so sad and worried. They had always wanted to help her, but they just didn't know what was wrong. Perhaps it could have just been a stage that all teenagers experience, but what if it wasn't?
After years of pondering what to do, they simply left the problem. Maybe she was happy and this was her way of showing it. Their help only seemed to be reflected off Olivia's wall of social and outside warding. It wasn't helpful, but then again, it didn't hurt either.
They lived in a house, just outside the city together. It was a larger house and, despite its rural surroundings, fit in well with the homely scenery around it. It was painted a bold color of green with grey shudders, giving it a type of older look. The door, however, was white with silver lining the tiny windows which rested inside it. They had a long, black driveway falling from their house, inviting practically to anyone. This house was beautiful, but the family in which that lived on the inside… maybe not as much on the terms of happiness. The father and mother were fine and very pleased with one another. It was their daughter, of course, that they had constantly worried on and on about. But there wasn't much more they could do, but watch her closely and make sure that she stayed out of trouble. The wife had a bright head of orange hair. She was short and very cute with blue eyes, freckles, and a smile that lit up just about everyone's day. But Olivia didn't really resemble her all that much. She resembled her father. He was a very handsome man with his dark hair very neatly groomed, his bangs dangling just a bit over his eyes. He held an innocent and caring smile and his dimples creased his face every time he had given one. His eyes were green and pierced through the day unlike Olivia's which stuck out none too much. But nonetheless, they had looked so perfect together just on the outside. And it was hard to see what the problem could have been.
The town itself was usually really normal. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet either. The city was quite large. It was practically buried in mounds of skyscrapers and tall buildings and resembled New York's streets. But it was not New York. It was a place called Esker Newland. The structures which held businesses, shops, and such were very modern and many held marble entrances and a golden lining. The interior was usually extravagant and the rest were in no worse condition than anything such as a million dollar home. Despite this layout, the city ended quite abruptly. So fast, that you wouldn't believe you were just in the urban area, that you may have been dreaming on the short trip there.
Most of the population found their excitement in the city where there were parties and a social life and because most everyone worked somewhere in the town, they decided they'd live there too. For the Saberhagens, they didn't believe the same. They loved how they could actually see the stars out at night in the country and they couldn't give up their beautiful surroundings. The 30 minute drive was worth living in such a place. They felt free, but with that one problem that I'm sure is quite clear by now. Their daughter… was a loony.
\Lost and Found\
From Silence to Shouts
Blowing hot air onto the surface of the glass window, she made out the letters that always hung on her heart like a heavy wait on her chest. I'm alone…She pressed her head against the now damp glass, pressing her bangs to her face and the small light of the sunset brightened up her sad face with golden lights. It seemed to give her a beautiful look as if she was a real princess out of a fairytale with beautiful glowing eyes and even though her face wore a look of sadness, it was flawless and that of a goddess.
The night was cold. It was refreshing and held a chilling smell in the slow air. She was in her room, she was. Olivia Saberhagen was in her own land in her mind as usual, looking at the skies. The stars were beautiful, especially in the country where she could see them so well. She rested where she could see them best—on the large window sill with the glass up so she could breathe in the night winds. Every once in a while she'd look to the nice green trees making a rustling sound as they brushed against each other as almost if trying to escape from the ground that imprisoned them. In the light of the moon watching her so carefully, her pale skin seemed to give off a glow, but her emotions remained the same as they always were. Even so, at this time, her very own thoughts seemed obvious. She was making a wish on the giant star of the night sky. She looked into the eyes of its deep craters and it seemed to smile in acceptance of her request. She wanted to go away for a while.
With her one wish, she wanted to escape from the invisible agony in which she suffered so miserably. She didn't ask for someone that understood her or anything of the sort. It was almost as if she were asking for life. Maybe, though, that was because she just felt as though she had none. She was experiencing a life, though; just someone else seemed to be living it for her. It just wasn't enough.
With that, she looked to the inside where her room was. It was vivid with color but had no effect on her dismal attitude. It just didn't make a difference whether her environment was colorful or black and white. It didn't make a difference if her clothes were dorky or more popular. It didn't even make a difference whether she walked home quietly in a group of involuntary outcasts or slightly behind a larger group of those who just seemed to belong. She stood up with her translucently coated gown flowing softly behind her, almost like that of a wedding dress. Instead of moving back to her bed, she looked out the window into the skies which was what she did for the next while. It was nothing but her eyes blinking occasionally and the slow breathing of her nose and mouth, causing her chest to move up and down, in and out. Within the next moment, she held up a hand as if she held the magic that unlocked something amazing. A secret she carefully carried for years behind her back keeping it away from the rest of the world. She tilted back her head as if she was looking deeper into the sky and closed her lids to cover the green orbs that many had feared to look into. She took in a full deep breath and stood directly in front of the open door.
Her eyes opened wide and she concentrated to the outside that seemed to be beckoning to her, calling her name. Olivia… Olivia…. We have what you've been asking for all your life. She obeyed at once, taking small, slow steps towards the window. She easily helped herself onto the sill and stood in the large box that rested in the wall of her room. The light from her room made her into a dark silhouette to the outside world. At last, she looked over the lands that had been hers, the ones she never appreciated because they were never really used by her, but by something else. Her eyes found the image of a peaceful town, abundant with lively scenery and landscapes, but in her mind, all she saw was a barren waste land with nothing to offer. She stretched out her hands as far as they would go. He skin almost seemed to glow against the soft light of the moon. The wind wrapped around her body and appeared to give her of the image with a celestial essence floating freely around her, tickling her arms and kissing her cheeks. Looking up, eyes shut; her breathing became calmer, slower, and lighter as if she was loosing her limbs. She smiled at last and let herself go. She was falling and falling into the darkness that seemed to come from a hole that just appeared, but she was no longer where she thought she once was. What one could see most was her shiny black hair which seemed to float ever so gently in the winds which were blowing it back. The fall lasted longer than she had expected it would, and he eyes began to drip with tears that slid back from falling slower than she did. And before she fell too far, the moon had reached out to catch the delicate girl.
