"Take away love, and our earth is a tomb."
-Robert Browning
The snow is falling ever so gently to the ground, which is already completely white. Laughing with delight, I stretch out my skinny thirteen-year-old arms and twirl like a ballerina, sticking out my tongue to catch a few flakes. Dad watches me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, suddenly there is a snowball in his hand... it flies towards me and hits the front of my coat. But it doesn't hurt, this is soft snow and Dad never throws very hard. I laugh and run towards him, but just as I reach the safety of his arms, the scene suddenly changes to a much later time...
"Please Dad? Please can we go?"
"I don't know, Angel… The weather is really bad..."
"Oh, please, Dad? I'll never ask for anything else like this I promise…" Again, I run to give him a hug but just as his arms open wide, the scene abruptly changes to soon after…
"Dad? Are we almost there?" Glittering white snow blows at the car, leaving behind only a few snowflakes on the windows that soon melted into oblivion.
"Just a minute, Angel..." Usually warm and resonant, Dad's voice was strained as he leaned forward, trying to see through the continually thickening snow.
"But Dad…!" I whined and suddenly, there was a loud sound... a blaring horn... screeching tires... a scream, mine... broken glass and twisted metal... snowflakes falling, brilliantly white against the redness...
With a gasp, I sat straight up in bed, drenched with sweat. My legs were tangled in the bed sheets of my great-aunt's house... not Dad's car from the nightmare. Sighing shakily with relief, I laid back down and wondered for a brief moment if the wetness on my face was sweat or tears...
Trembling, I backed away from the bulletin board where the audition results were posted and sat down on the nearest seat in the choir room. Erik was at my side in an instant, looking concerned.
"I-I did it..." I whispered in awe. My heart was beating rapidly and all it was all I could do not to go look at the sheet again to see the magical, mystical words: "Maria is to be played by -- Christine Daye."
Whatever he was going to say was stopped when Charlotte pushed her way out of the small group that surrounded the audition results list. Before I said a word of congratulations to her, she had gotten the part of Anita, she speared me with an icy glare. "You!" she spat. "You stole my part!"
I met her gaze evenly, some of my elation melting. "No I didn't, Charlotte. It was a fair audition."
She couldn't speak for a moment until suddenly stomping her foot childishly and shrieking: "I'm always the lead!" Her hand raised and, for a moment, I thought she was going to hit me but Erik stood. Seeing his chilling gaze fixed on her, Charlotte faltered, her face registering his intimidating presence with something that might have been fear given enough time.
"Go away," he hissed coldly. Charlotte hesitated, looked at me, then Erik and with a flip of her hair, marched out of the room... and almost ran into Rod. Seeing him, she squeaked and tried to speak. Rod glanced at her briefly and then came into the room to stand by the seat where I was sitting. Charlotte muttered something that I could not, and probably did not want to hear.
Seeing me with Erik, Rod's smile wasn't as bright as it usually was. Maybe it was just the light. "Hey Christine... what's going on?"
Erik stiffened behind me but I couldn't help but beam with happiness. "The audition results are back and, guess what? I'm Maria in West Side Story!"
Rod shifted and for some reason didn't look as happy as I thought he would be. "That's... great, Christine, it really is... So, will you be at the game Friday night?"
I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks. "Uh, yeah," I replied, twisting a dark curl around my finger, only too aware of Erik's disapproving glower. Thankfully, the bell rang and I hurried by myself to my locker before going to chemistry. Football season was in full swing by now and I had faithfully attended all home games... sitting by myself in the increasingly chilly stands trying to work up enough enthusiasm to cheer Rod on. While I admired school spirit and was marginally glad that we won the games... truthfully, football held little interest for me. I just wasn't a sporty-type of person.
"Be careful."
I jumped, startled at the slightly squeaky voice breaking into my thoughts. Turning from my open locker I saw, standing right behind me, a guy who might have been the mold for the stereotype known as "the nerd." His hair was a faint mousy brown, greasy looking and badly cut. Pale, thin lips barely covered large front teeth with braces and his pants were definitely not baggy or long enough to be in the current fashion trend.
"What?" I replied with a confused smile.
The guy pushed thick rimmed glasses up further on his rather prominent nose and sniffed. "This is a warning: Be careful."
He started to move away. "Wait!" I exclaimed, he turned, eyes magnified almost comically by the strong prescription of his glasses. "Warning about what? Who are you?"
He coughed and fumbled around in his pockets. "Peter Eisenhower Zmundinski. People call me Pez," he wheezed and finally succeeded in finding what he wanted. An inhaler. "I was just warning you to be careful around Erik. I wouldn't want to see a pretty girl like you get hurt."
I was so stunned that I only stood there, watching his gangly frame disappear into the throng of students. The bell rang and I hurried to chemistry, the strange guy's warning echoing in my ears as I took my seat beside Erik. I wouldn't want to see a pretty girl like you get hurt...