Chapter 1

It’s been too long since I saw you last. I don’t know where you are, my love, but I will find you. I promise. It’s been about a month since the search for you began. Time is too difficult to keep track of in this world. It could be December, or August; I would never know. Nevertheless, I can’t leave without you. You’re my partner. We should’ve abandoned all of this when we had the chance. I’m sorry. I pray you’re alive. I love you.

 

                                      -Your Beloved

 

            Part I

           Chapter 1

 

            I remember my 16^th birthday pretty well, even though it was a few winters ago. After another disappointing last day of school, I walked home, alone. I was invisible to all traffic in the streets and sidewalks. The sky was dark, but still in the day. 

            I pushed myself through the revolving doors of the apartment building. With a backpack weighing down my spinal cord, I cumbersomely approached the man at the desk. He was well put together and well groomed and every quality to his appearance was in its place. The man and the lobby had many similarities, they both had a strict and up tight quality to their look.

             “Excuse me sir...” Without the slightest intention to make eye contact he continued to write on his paper. You would think that a good-looking man would be kind and clean like his look… I guess not. I thought to myself.

“What apartment is my grandmother, Anne in? I sorry, I forgot again.”

Well I did. And we just moved into a new apartment a few days before.

            He sighed, and lifted a thick book with lots of pages. He seemed to be looking at nothing but the floor. He drops it on the desk, not caring or noticing that the impact startled a woman in a chair reading. He stood it up on its spine, took his thumbs and centered them in the middle. He dug his bony fingers into the pages, like chisels being forced into a crack. He released the flat surfaces of the book on the counter. His fingers glided horizontally across the page.

“You must be Courtalia…”

            I nodded, yes to his statement. He positioned his finger on one of the lines. He closed the book with a light slam, continued to write on his paper, and still not look up from his files he said. “Miss Anastasia is on the 3^rd floor in room 13.”

He refused to make eye contact with me as I went into the elevator. Before the door closed I heard him speak as he continued to write. He spoke as if discussed “…What a child...” The door closed, my heart sank to my stomach.

           

            It seemed like every adult looked down at me… they still do. I couldn’t stand the rejection and disrespect to young adults like me. We have enough to deal with on own. There was something about those similar occurrences that haunted me. It was like I wasn’t created to be treated that way. I was a young girl that wanted to explore the world. Because of my fascination alone, I knew I was destined for something bigger. It was my dream intention, and I haven’t mentioned it, even to my Grandmother. Although I’m still not sure that she is my grandmother, or if we’re blood related in the least… What I do know, is that my mother is dead, or at least that’s what I assume.  I’m sixteen now... But my story starts when I turned thirteen. The celebration wasn’t an impressing scene…. Yet it was important to my destiny, and the destiny of well, the Universe.

            The flashing of buttons rose in a vertical fashion, upward. The number three lit up in a yellowish glow and the door opened. I walked down the carpeted hallway, until I reached a door with the number thirteen nailed to it. I turned the rusted door handle. A mature yet gentle voice came from the kitchen as the sound of clanking plates echoed through the room.

“Oh, who could that be?” The voice said. Knowing that her question was in no need of an answer I spoke anyway.

“Grandma it’s me.” I plopped my luggage on the ground. Her response gave me a warm welcoming feeling I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Me, who?”

“It’s me, Courtalia.” My giggles went on.

“Goodness! Don’t come in! Don’t come in, or you would ruin your surprise!” As she said this her little legs went as fast as they could take her to my side. Her eyes gleamed at my appearance. My grandmother is a colorful character; she loves hearing and telling myths and legends. Strangely she believes in many tall tales, but is hard to get by with false fables. She can tell if you cheat. She knows when she’s being deceived. From what I knew then, I would say that she was a mind reader. If you knew her, you would agree that it could be a possibility.

            Where was I … Oh yes, she grabbed my hand and guided me through the forest of paper lanterns. They dangled from the ceiling. Candles on the table and on a cake. My smile expanded with every light that gleamed at me. With the chestnut brown walls and the brightly colored lamps, it brought my heart in happiness. Although seven lanterns and a few candles aren’t your usual setup, it meant a lot to me. The fact that someone cared about celebrating another year of life was all that mattered. I was dazzled until I realized I had to say something.

“Grandmother… you remembered…” Our eyes meet as her voice became low and quiet. She gave me a witty smile.

“How could I forget?” I looked back at the ceiling.

“ You didn’t have to do all this for me…” I glanced back into her warm old eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I? Besides this year is special…” She walked to the table where next to the cake, laid a small box. Her fingers grasped its perimeter. The unstable glow of the candles reflected off the bronze coloring of the case. She placed it in my hand… it was light. She put her hand on top of the box, which was then in my hands. I looked up at her.

“This is very special… when I was your age I wanted to be bound to the sea… the wind in my hair and the smell of the ocean… it was a feeling I couldn’t overlook. One day, while I was on an expedition as a navigator, something strange happened. We were on land, and a hooded woman came to me running. She handed me something. Then she said ‘Your destiny is a painting of your actions in motion.’ then she ran off… I didn’t follow her right away, and I didn’t see where she went. But this is what she gave me and now I will give it to you.” She stopped and took a seat on the couch; I did the same still holding my gift. When she landed she let out a long sigh with her eyes closed.

            “I am giving this to you because in some way I believe it belongs to you… that is because when I did try to follow her I saw a small child on the beach… she looked barely a week old… She was wrapped in cloth… That child was you…”

 I was shocked, but I soon recovered. Knowing that I had to be strong. She looked a head of me, and then at me again.

“You can open it now if you want…”  

I smiled and opened it slowly… It was a necklace.