Chapter Seven
S y l v i a S w a n
The ground below me is wet and full of rippling dark water. I can see my reflection, my black hair swaying wildly with the wind. Tears coat my cheeks but why? I don’t know.
I look at my hands, they’re tightly wrapped around the railing of the tall bridge. The moon glistens a bruised silver, pale lighting coats the endless waters and my exposed skin.
“Go back, Sylvia.” I turn around in confusion, letting the railing go and facing the opposite way. I know that voice.
My mother stands at the edge of the railing, her hands high in the air, like she’s ready to jump.
A long white nightgown covers her body, swaying with the delicate breeze, blood splattered across the exact spots she was stabbed.
Her hair flows down her back in waves, matching mine and I step forward shakily.
“Mama.” I call out, desperate to see her face. My voice is distant, even to my own ears, like I am watching the scene unfold rather than being in it.
“Do not follow me, Sylvia.” Her voice is hauntingly the same, soft and she remains staring ahead, not looking back at me.
“I have to. You didn’t deserve to die mama.” I cry out and step even closer.
Her eyes snap to mine and dread fills my stomach.
They’re hollow, completely empty. The irises glints with pale light from the moon and river.
She points toward the darkness to my left and I spin around.
A figure watches us, unmoving and completely blending in.
Something I couldn’t name even if I wanted to.
A loud snap rings through my ears and the next thing I know I'm falling.
The bridge collapsed.
My body tilts and my eyes find her soaring body. Her hollow eyes remain on me until I hit the freezing water and a scream tries to leave my throat but the river fills it with silence.
I gasp awake, tears sticking to my drenched cheeks. Amos shifts, his sleepy glinting brass eyes meet mine with concern. My room is drenched in darkness and my nightgown clings to my sweaty body. I blink and the dream replays in my mind.
Bridge.
Dark. Dark water.
Falling.
My mother’s soulless eyes.
Amos purrs, pulling me back. It was just a dream. I place my hand over my racing heart and sit up. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and run a hand down his mane.
“I’m ok, just another dream.” I whisper in the dark to him. He rubs his head into my palm and my nerves begin to calm down.
I’m safe, even though it hadn’t felt like a dream. The vivid image of her eyes haunts my mind. That dream was a message. I just couldn’t put it together right now.
I run both of my shaky hands down my nightgown and turn to the clock on my wall. Five o’clock. Too early, but too late to go back to sleep. School starts in another two hours. The faint scent from the burnt out fireplace drifts into my senses and I realize how cold it is.
I throw the velvet duvet off of me and stand up, stretching my limbs.
The oak floors are cold against my feet and a slight breeze drifts in from the old windows.
I walk over to my fireplace and re-light it.
The hearth instantly roars to life and warmth seeps into my room.
Orange flames dance across the floors and bed, I peel my curtain back to get a look outside.
Pink early sunrise cast across the endless fields and trees.
I can see a white mansion in the distance, its arches soaring to the clouds.
This breathless time of the hour was when nothing came out, only the birds but it was too cold even for them. I pull the curtain closed and walk over to my bathroom. There is lots of brown in here, not one of my favorite colors in a bathroom, but it was nice to have one attached to my room.
I wash my face in the basin, the cold water biting at my warm cheeks.
Amos jumps from my bed, his paws padding against the wood until he stands beside me.
I bend down and use my rag to wipe at his face.
For as long as I could remember this was our tradition.
He purrs in contentment and walks over to his bowl of food, munching away until the bowl is empty.
I turn back to the mirror to study my reflection.
Dark circles cover the bottom of my lids, my hair is in a tangled bun, and my cheeks are a rosy red from the cold water.
I haven’t gotten much sleep since she died. Her image haunts my dreams every night.
I tear the bandaid from my cheek, the crow’s scratches are very faint—hopefully it wouldn’t leave behind a scar.
“Are you ready for our first day, Amos?” I whisper. “Maybe it was just a dream after all and today will be better.”
He turns to me but doesn’t respond and even as I say the words dread seeps through me.
My first day at Grimmwood Academy of Arts shouldn’t be too bad if I can stay away from Kian and if I can keep that dream out of my head until after school I’ll be fine.
Those soulless eyes spot behind my eyelids and I furiously blink.
Perfectly fine.
I look in my closet for the uniform my father got from the academy. He had already washed and pressed it. I find it hanging at the front, along with her first gift to him, the jean jacket.
The skirt is pleated in colors of tan and black, the jacket to match, while the button up is a solid black. I find a pair of stockings, to keep the breeze off my legs and pull on my uniform. The skirt is so short I wear it low on my waist. A sliver of my belly peeks through, my piercing glinting.
Rich schools and their uniforms will be the death of me.
I remember him telling me how proud my mother would be of me going to such a prestigious school. His smile was gentle but all I could remember was the look in her eyes. Would she be proud?
I slip my sketch pad into my satchel along with the newspaper clippings from her studio. A piece of her that could uncover everything mysterious about her death.
I glance at the clock on my wall and have another hour left till school.
I open my bedroom door, the warmth in my room seeping out into the hallway.
My father hums downstairs, the smell of bacon wafting into my senses.
Amos' ears go back and he sprints down the steps, ready to catch crumbs he drops. I giggle and follow behind him.
“Good morning, dear.” His smile greets me as I turn the corner into the kitchen. His eyes bright and a piece of bacon dangling from his hand for Amos to eat.
Amos quickly snatches the bacon and retreats underneath the table to eat in peace.
“Good morning, father.” I smile back. My little family, what's left of it.
“How’d you sleep? I think the home is cozy.” He lays two pieces of bacon on toast and hands me the plate.
“It was ok. I think I just have to get used to the new bed.” I lie again because I don’t want to worry him with my silly dreams.
“It will take time but at least we have each other.” He smiles weakly before sitting at the table with his plate.
“Of course.” I smile and sit down across from him. I chew absentmindedly on a piece of bacon. Amos looks up at me expectantly but I don’t give him anymore. He’s already had way too much this morning and wouldn't be eating again till lunch.
“Anything fun planned today, dear?” I look up and meet his warm eyes, the color of dead grass and leaves in fall.
I think over how I’ll respond. I don’t want him to know I’ve been going back to our hometown, alone, well besides Amos. I figured I could lie and fake sign up for an afterschool event.
“I think I’m going to sign up for an afterschool class of some sort, not sure what yet. I’m excited to see what my new school has to offer.” I say as I swallow my last piece of toast and put my plate in the sink.
“That’s good. I’m so proud, always remember that no matter what you do.” He says and stands up to put his plate in the sink.
“Always, but I’ve got to get going if I wanna make it to the academy on time.” I say and sling my satchel back over my shoulder. I tuck Amos inside his carrier along with a can of his food.
“I love you and be safe. Go straight to school and let me know if you decide to stay after school.” He says as he pulls me into a hug. His lips touch the top of my forehead and I wrap my arms around him.
“I love you too.” I whisper and pull away.
I step out into the cool morning air. The scent of the chimney and autumn wind carries through the atmosphere. The air is damp with rain and I hope it doesn’t start till I get to the academy.
I zip my satchel up and button my jacket up to my throat, sliding my mittens onto my hands.
“We’ll be there soon so don’t worry too much, Amos.” I say after I hear one of his distressed meows.
He goes quiet and I begin my journey to Grimmwood Academy of Arts. The fog near town starts to thin out and the yellow streetlamps begin to cut off as the sun sets higher in the sky.
The scent of bakery items like cake and cookies fill the air, coffee grounds mix with it creating a delicious aroma. A trolley bell sounds and I move onto the cobblestone sidewalk.
“That was close.” I whisper to Amos as we continue walking.
“Sylvia!” A male voice calls from my side, surprised and eager to see me.
I turn and find Alistair, his sparkling smile lifting my lips into a small smile.
“Hey, I didn’t know you opened this early? Don’t you have class?” I walk closer to him as I talk, finding comfort in the boy who saved me from Tyche’s crows.
He grins and passes the boxes to an older, very similar, version of himself. The man walks into the clothing store leaving me and Alistair alone. He dusts his hands onto his black uniform jacket, everything matching mine besides the white button up underneath.
“You get used to it when your uncle owns the shop. I just came to help him unload before class.” He naturally reaches down and scratches Amos' ears as he talks, his eyes finding mine once he’s done.
“Glad to see you brought him. Your lucky charm?” He questions as he grabs his satchel from the ground.