Hey, I updated once again! I DON'T OWN ANY PART OF THE TWILIGHT SAGA, EXCEPT MY OWN CHARACTERS! The song that I thought fitted with this chapter was "C'etait ici", by "Yann Tiersen". I think Yann Tiersen is the perfect sort of music for this fanfiction series! Remember, comment, review, and message me! Thank you!
I could barely sleep last night, my nerves were getting to me. I lost count of all the times I wandered out of bed, and got lost in the unfamiliar hallways. It was only then that I started to feel the affects of homesickness and the bare touch of loneliness, as I started to dread the next day. The next day was the beginning of high school all over again.
My alarm clock squeaked feebly, but I slammed my hand on it before it could increase in its noisy splendor. I was up all night and barely got a wink of sleep, but luckily I was running on pure adrenaline at the moment. I wasted no time in getting dressed in a pair of denim skinny jeans, regular converse, a plain black tank top, and a stripped black and gray hoodie that fitted my form nicely. I traveled into the bathroom after a few moments of looking for it and dove right into my daily routine, but I put on a poppy orange lipstick and a messy eyeliner. When I was done, I went downstairs, but was surprised when I noticed a familiar figure there before me.
"Cecile, good-mourning. Want some breakfast?" Maria welcomed me, spreading a groups worth of breakfast assortments. "It's nice and hot." she reassured me.
I usually skipped on breakfast since the small second grade experience I encountered after eating in the mourning; it involved puke and a very unhappy classmate. "Um, I'll have some toast." I sat down in defeat, not wanting to be rude or have her food go to waste.
Maria and I sat in silence, her reading the newspaper and I eating my buttery toast and fiddling with the tips of my wavy hair. My light green eyes traveled over the kitchen, but took interest in the newspaper that covered Maria's whole face from sight. It read, "GROUP OF TOURISTS MISSING! TWO MANGELED BODIES FOUND!", in large dramatic words. If my nerves weren't already on edge as they were, they jumped a bit more.
A group of people disappearing sounded odd, especially since they were all tourists, but I pushed it all aside. I felt my mind flipping through the images of yesterdays sights, the ancient Romanesque building and cathedrals. But, an image of a certain building made me jump in recognition.
"Hey, grandma? Do you know what that large cathedral is called with the angel and gargoyle statues and the small chapels next to it?" I asked, starting a conversation.
"Cecile, if you ever want to find your way around the town, you're going to have to be a bit more specific, but I do know what you're talking about. It's called the "Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta", but around here we call it "Santa Maria Cathedral". Why, do you find it interesting?" Maria asked.
"Yes, it's really…gorgeous." I categorized its beauty, but I felt awkward when I listed what it looked like. When I looked at the cathedral there was no real way to describe it or any actual way to put its essence in form.
"Well, if you're that interested. There's tours that go through the museum everyday and give discounts for tourists, but I'll think they'll give you one since you don't even know how to speak Italian." Maria laughed heartily, much to my own embarrassment.
To be honest, I didn't even know a little bit of Italian. Ever since I arrived in Volterra, people came up to me and appeared to be asking me questions, but I couldn't reply properly. Some of the signs in the town were even written in Italian. I got a strong feeling that I was definitely going to be lost in translation here.
"Yea, my Italian is horrible. I can't even say "please" or "thank you", it's really bad. But, are they really giving out tours? That would be great for us to go on." I supposed, holding my breath for her reply. Maria's bright eyes looked enthusiastic for a moment, but looked down in guilt.
"Sorry, Cecilia. I have to go to work, but you can go off on your own. I promise, this town is safe enough for a young woman like yourself to be walking around." Maria smiled weakly, but my smile lowered.
"I'm sure that's not what the missing groups of tourists said."
"I'm sure that they just misjudged a direction or something. Even though this is a town, it's easy to get lost around here. They probably are lost or confused somewhere in the forest."
"Forest? How can there be a forest if there's a wall around the town, and on the other side there's only water?"
"Simple, the Etruscans valued nature. They didn't want to completely destroy it for the sake of their people's protection. If they did, then they'll be petrified that a God would destroy their crops and wealth." Maria informed me, leaving the table to dump her coffee.
This town, this Volterra, it was so fascinating. When I thought that it was nothing more but a town, it proved me wrong. Maria told me more about the forest that was located on the far east side of the town as she drove me to the Arts Institute, all the way on the other side of the town, and of the myths that resided there. One of my favorite myths that Maria told me was quite romantic, yet ominous. Maria said, "That if you travel into the woods during twilight, where the sun meets the rising night half way, you'd be likely to see the angel's wings sparkle once they hit the horizon. If you see the miracle, then you'd become wealthy in life, with all of the gifts that a person could ask for. But, if the angel's wings kiss your lips, then you'd become increasingly unlucky in life. It's an ancient sin that dates back for centuries, that a mortal should never kiss an angel.", but she told me it was all just a "silly myth".
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the guidance office? It'll spare you some time before you have to go to class." Maria supposed, but I shook my head. It was better to get everything over with now than later.
"No, it's fine. I'll be okay." I spoke more to myself than Maria, exiting the car.
I watched as Maria drove off to her spot in the teacher's lot, but felt my stomach become uneasy as I went into the large building. I noticed that everyone was together, whether it be in a group or pair. No one was ever by themselves; except me. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone in the building had sun kissed skin, the boys looked strong and handsome, while the girls were tall, had long curly black hair, and looked like runway models. Compared to them, I looked alien.
"Ciao, stai Cecilia?" a thick Italian accent hummed into my ear range, causing me to turn around.
When I turned, I was greeted by a young woman who had to be the same age as me, she had short light brown hair, much taller than me, a bit lanky with a perfectly round face, and welcoming brown eyes. She also had a stud piercing in her nose.
"W-What? I'm sorry, I don't know how to speak…Italian. Sorry." I apologized, but the girl laughed.
"That's a relief, I thought I would have to whip out my dictionary to speak to you all day. I'm Rebecca Sheerson, and you must be Cecilia Francesca." Rebecca smiled wide at me, her smile was clear and pearly white. As her pony tailed hair flowed in the spring air that seeped through the opened windows.
"Yea, um? How'd you know my name?" I asked, looking at her quizzical. Rebecca didn't bother to answer me right away as she took hold of my wrist and dragged me off in the opposite direction I was headed. I pulled my wrist, but obviously not hard enough for Rebecca to let go. I was completely weak and lacked any strength, it was probably due to my lack of working out or physical activity.
"Hey! Where are you taking me!?" I raised my voice, but Rebecca stopped short.
"I'm taking you to class, you have it with me. It's Advanced Placement Art, right? My mom did put you in basically every class that I have." Rebecca informed me, letting go of my wrist. Leaving it to be my turn to follow her.
"And who exactly is your mom?" I questioned, as we both entered an almost empty classroom.
The classroom smelt of fresh and diluted paint, pencil shavings from discarded and broken pencils, and the fresh air of spring that waltzed through the large opened window. The classroom was wide and modeled after an art studio, but it was filled with blank isles and newly acquired paints. It was my nightmare come alive.
"Oh, sorry. I've been dragging you around this whole time and I haven't been telling you anything important, besides my name of course! My mother is the vice chairman of this Institute, my mom and your grandmother are best friends. I mean, they should be. She only hangs out with your grandmother every waking moment." Rebecca explained, taking her place at an isle located in the back of the room, me joining her.
Rebecca looked as though she was a professional artist, with her briefcase filled with different chalks, pastels, paint tubes, erasers, and pencils. All I had was a pencil and an empty imagination to work with. Rebecca must have caught my stare as she smiled kindly at me.
"Don't worry, since you're new Mrs. Frankle will let you get used to everything for a week or so, but a word of advice. Stay on your toes, you know how art teachers are. You never know when she's gonna hit you with something." Rebecca told me, but I was confused with deciding if she was going to hit me with an object or assignment.
"So? How long are you staying here for?" she asked, but I shrugged trying to not struggle with sitting in front of the oversized isle.
"I really don't know, honestly. So far though, a year or so. Or until my mother gets sick of living alone." I told her, words sounding a bit spiked with a bitter taste.
"Glad to see you have emotional issues too." Rebecca joked, with a gentle elbow to my side.
"Lutto il mio tulipani po 'di bene! Cominciamo la nostra giornata con l'arte, come sempre! Good mourning my little tulips! Let us begin our day with art as usual!" an all too chipper voice sang, literally.
A woman walked into the classroom with a mess of paper in her arms, hair in a messy afro with large spectacles that appeared too thick to be believable, moccasins, a tie-dye dress that flowed easily in the breeze, and a multicolored headband. She looked…wild.
"Ah, Rebecca. Introduce us to our new visitor to our humble town and Institute." the person I could only assume to be Mrs. Frankle, looked to the back at Rebecca and I.
"Yes, this is Cecilia Francesca. She's new here and will be joining us for the year or so, I can only guess that's she's a talented artist to be here. Um? Sì, questo è Cecilia Francesca. Lei è nuovo e si unirà a noi per l'anno o giù di lì, posso solo immaginare che lei è un artista di talento di essere qui. Anything you wanna add, Cecilia?" Rebecca asked, but I tensed on my stool as I noticed the countless eyes on me.
"N-No, nothing." I hated to talk about myself as it was, but it was instantly worse when I had to talk about myself to a group of my peers. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't enjoy being around people my age or even talking to them.
"Good, welcome to our little corner of the world, Cecilia. Since you're new, I'll give you a few days to get used to your new environment. But, this note isn't just for you, but the rest of the class. We have a scenery portrait due in two weeks or so, I haven't decided. It can be a sketch or painting of any sight that provokes you in anyway, but it must be done on isle paper. Okay? Keep in mind it will be due quite soon." Mrs. Frankle devastated me further, but I only swallowed the accumulated saliva that formed in my throat.
I had no way of surviving this class, so I sat silently and didn't speak the whole time. I kept quiet, except for the few times Rebecca talked to me and I was asked a question about my previous home. I didn't know how I was going to make the grade on my first assignment, the trouble I was dealing with wasn't going to budge not unless something or someone, as much as I doubted it, would move it personally. I need something to inspire me, something to wake me up. It was only then as I fiddled about in the back of the class with my lone pencil, that I thought of it. I knew it was a far cry from something to get me to paint or even draw again like I used to, but it could work.
By fifth period, my head was wound tightly around the idea in my head that I could barely listen to Rebecca, but I still tried. "I can't believe we're in every class together. When my mom said we would be, I didn't think she was serious." Rebecca eyed my class schedule, as she walked with me to my next class. Advanced Instrumental Music.
I had no idea why I was placed in this class particularly, I enjoyed playing my violin secretly. It was my hidden pleasure that tuned out my troubles and blocked the world from my thoughts and feelings. It was there for me whenever I had trouble with painting, and I spent hours playing on it which was evident by my calloused fingers. Playing the violin was my joy and I valued it more than painting. I just couldn't figure out for the life of me why I had such a problem letting go of art and grasping music within my hands.
Rebecca and I sat next to each other in that class also, but I was thankfully spared having to introduce myself to the whole class. By the time lunch came around, I finally got a grasp on the Italian language a bit, as I figured that my teachers were only repeating their words in Italian after speaking it in English.
Walking into the cafeteria was harder than I expected it to originally be, but when I did, everyone's eyes were on me. Girls whispered among themselves, while guys completely stared blankly or stared with a small smirk. Luckily, Rebecca was there to save me from walking aimlessly and dragged me over to a table for us to sit. I didn't talk much as Rebecca talked about the school, people, teachers, and food. But I decided to talk again once I finally got used to her.
"Rebecca? Do you like Cathedrals? I've been thinking about taking a tour over to the Cathedral of Santa Maria, but I'm kinda hesitant to go by myself, but I don't want to make it seem like you're my last resort if-" I started to rant on, but Rebecca stopped me with a point of her fork.
"Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta? I love that place, I went there a thousand times already though." Rebecca stated, but I felt my hopes dwindle. It could be because of the small face I made and made sure to cover afterwards, or a genuine change of mind, but Rebecca laughed. "If you're gonna make a face like that, then I can't say no. How about we take the eight o'clock tour?" Rebecca suggested, but I nodded in excitement.
Perhaps coming to school wasn't such a bad idea all in itself. I learned a bit of Italian, played the violin, and gained a new friend. The only problem on my chopping block was how I was going to pull an art assignment out of thin air. At the moment, I was honestly contemplating to follow after Maria's forest myth and chase after angel feathers.
When Rebecca showed up on my doorstep, Maria couldn't be anymore excited. I could guess it was because I made a friend so quickly or because I actually found one. Maria already knew that I was horrible with conversation when it came to people my age, but she was more than happy for me that I had someone to talk to and share the "woes of adolescence" with. Rebecca and I walked the whole way to the Cathedral, and luckily it wasn't too far for us. Rebecca talked the majority of the time and made me laugh constantly, it was easy for me to start to talk with her now and I couldn't be anymore at ease with that.
Arriving at the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta shook my body with tremors of excitement as my bright green eyes watched as tourists filed into the enormous center of worship and architecture. The pitch black night sky made the angel statues more riveting and majestic than usual, as the cathedral lights shined on them. The gargoyles that were mounted on the church were menacing and enthralled me as I walked passed them. The Cathedral was larger than I expected it to be and I found myself gawking at it.
"You must really like this place, huh?" Rebecca poked, passing me a tour guide pamphlet. I nodded.
"It's just so beautiful. It's like history frozen in time, but it only begins to look more enchanting with age. Nothing like how humans get with age." I spoke barely above a whisper, but Rebecca stared at me with a blank expression.
"Enchanting? Did you just say enchanting?"
"Uh, yea. Did I say something wrong?"
Rebecca didn't bother to let me in on her inside joke as she broke out in a fit of laughter, causing a few eyes to turn in our direction. I felt my face gain heat as I was openly blushing, but I hid it with the palm of my hand.
"You really are odd, but in a good way. A funny way." Rebecca reassured me, patting my back.
I went along with it as I followed behind Rebecca, as we both joined the group. The whole time, I couldn't stop staring intently at the antiquity before my eyes. We passed by works of art contributed respectfully by Niccolo Circignani, Andrea della Robbia, Benozzo Gozzoli, and Mino da Fiesole. The cathedral smelt of fresh dirt and polished marble. The Assunta Cathedral soothed my senses and calmed my nerves, it was a small getaway for me. I felt relief for the first time in a long while.
The tourist group and Rebecca started to move on without me, as my eyes were still analyzing the painting of Bernardine of Siena. It consisted of a painting including Christ with his hands stretched out; bleeding. His expression was calm, yet hurt. His eyes were hardened in resolve as he appeared to be sending a message to the overseers of the painting. The arches in the church echoed with the laughter of children and the chatter of people, as I started to walk on away from the group. It felt as though something was calling me away from them, but as soon as I turned a corner, I lost my sense of direction. I was lost.
I didn't become scared, but I did try to mind my settings. I traveled down vast corridors aligned with statues, then down a hall filled with chariots and ancient technologies, but then I ended back down a corridor laced with paintings.
"Okay, I'm lost." I admitted to no one in particular, scratching my head in confusion.
My eyes wandered over the paintings, but stopped once they caught something quite different. It was a young man that was admiring a single portrait. He stood tall with his fingers laced behind his back, his head tilted back partially. I admired his long dark brown hair that was messy in a perfect fashion, his hands were pale as they matched his complexion perfectly, his clothes held remnants of a different time. He appeared to be adleastly my age or maybe a year older.
I tried to move without drawing attention from the exotic creature before me, but as soon as I moved, he moved. When he turned to face me, my breath escaped my throat. He was ethereal in his beauty; unlike anything or person I ever saw. His face was that of an angel, as his looks were able to beat out that of the Greek God Apollo. His lips were full, but they weren't too full. His eyes had purple-like bruises underneath that only added to the effects of his enigmatic beauty. His hair swept across his face and drew attention to his eyes, but once I gazed at them, my lips parted in shock. His eyes…they were…the color of blood. A crimson red.
Once his crimson eyes met my light green eyes, he glared harshly at me. His rage vibrated through his eyes, as his upper lip curled upward in disgust at my appearance. I could have sworn I heard him even growl in defense at me. The stunning young man jerked violently forward, but suddenly stopped himself with a strong clamp of his hand over his mouth. His eyes were stabbing repeatedly into me, pushing me back from the angelic man. I clenched my heart to stop it from pounding, but it refused to listen.
The pitter patter of shoes came into my earshot, and knocked me out of my admiration. The sounds caused the pale young man to also grip tighter on his mouth and nose. I turned instantly over to see the creator of the noise, but I was surprised to see who it was.
"Cecilia! Ever heard of staying with the group?! I was worried about you!" Rebecca kindly cursed me, but I whipped my head back around in the direction of the beautiful god before me.
He was gone.
Gone as if he never existed in the first place.
As if he was only a figment of my imagination.
That was when I felt the sudden urge to paint again.