Dawn's sky blue hue washed over the pompous mansions, majestically constructed chateaus and grand, imposing manors that distinguished the ever tranquil Estate – Fairford Overlook, from the ruckus New York City was famous for.
Fairford was the paradise of New York, the safe haven for the lofty-minded honeybees to produce the financial honey in pacification before consumption from the insatiable city of New York. It was the estate said to be ever flowing with wealth as indispensable as the pacific. It was where I, Harvey Rhett, 19 year old undergraduate from the prestigious Starglint College and heir to BlueStream Advercomp lived – with my family… until things happened.
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I used to believe there was nothing better than a quick morning jog on my street, Vine Cutaways, with the clear morning breeze trickling down my windpipe, the melodious but unstable, high-pitched chirrups of birds filling the atmosphere and the cold, sweet feeling of perspiration sliding out of my skin as I waved at old folks with a smirk etched on my face. I used to believe a lot of things and one was that I was untouchable with all of my parents' wealth and fame but time, and murders, and Maisie changed my perception of life… forever.
That morning was nothing out of the usual, it was the beginning of winter and it was the tradition of Fairford folks to import trees – the bald cypress, Texas ash, Pecan and other trees that could survive the winter.
The cold strong winds nearly knocked me off my feet as I stepped out of our villa onto our thick green garden that swept across our porch but was adroitly interpenetrated by gray fancy stones that thrust a path between our house's building and the rest of the world.
My fingers were curled up deep into my woolen gloves and my beanie was pulled over my ears, close to my chin before a whitish cold fog escaped from my nostrils. Winter!
I turned on my phone’s GPS tracker and set my Nike Run Club application to notify me as I hit my mark, 500 metres – a little distance after the well known Magnolia brothel and I took off, my locks of long, shiny black hair bouncing out of my beanie every time the soles of my Nike came in contact with the cold tarmac as the twiddles of birds motivated me.
**
I was 2.4 seconds from setting a new record for myself but failed after an incisive knee sprain quaked through my right leg bringing me to halt. I strolled home feeling incomplete, drenched in my sweats, gasping for the cold winter air to moderate the hot air in me as I stopped over at my friend’s – a flaxen colour haired, 17 year old Kathy who had bright, innocent green eyes that reminded me of grasses and fields.
She was two years my junior and we were once very close before life drifted us apart and I barely met anymore for little chats about the latest stores or movies or musicians. If only I had known it was the last time she’d get to hobnob with the Russell she knew, I’d have lingered longer and given her a big hug. Little did I know that…
**
As I turned the doorknob and opened the door slowly to attenuate the implicative squeak, the crimson carpet imported from Italy and the milky unblemished walls where fancy bronze candleholders were splendidly hung were revealed. The Rhett Villa.
I stopped to grab a Starbucks Refresher from the fridge as I made it up to my room for a warm bubble bath.
**
My father came from a family that's deeply into fashion. If you see any sweatshirt, jeans, shoes, face caps and chains with "Rhett-ina" inscribed on it or it’s emblem, bright blue eyes. It's my dad's family. Unfortunately, my dad's elder brother was the one that inherited the company. My dad, being a proud man, wanted to start from the scratch but if you asked me, he really didn't.
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My dad's company was once a regular participant in the rat race but through his family's connection with people at the top of the ladder, in no time it had left the rat race and was the leading runner in the "money" race. His success today still had some things to do with his family and although "Rhett-ina" went down another bloodline, everyone of us had a lot of their products and that explained why he didn’t flinch at the financial burden I placed on him when he told us over dinner that he was going on a three day trip to Sofia, Bulgaria for a summit which I mentioned I’ll go with him on, at least, to evade the boring holiday with lots of snow in an environment I was accustomed to already.
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My mum's family was filled with mostly models, actors and actresses, musicians and the "black sheeps", pornstars. My mum was a model, a successful one but she still assisted dad with advertisement and some office work a lot and sometimes my uncle, the CEO of Rhett-ina with advertizing. My dad's company mostly produced sleek magazines, hosted world-class events and invited the la-di-da class (another means of advertizing his company) for peerless parties in high calibre hotels like MeadTown (a 6 star hotel owned by my dad's pal). My dad also had a radio station, BlueStream FM, where they had nice menus and a lot of paid adverts to keep each day running smoothly but it was just another means through which he could reach his audience.
**
Maybe if I had known that going with my dad to Bulgaria was the beginning of a journey through the dark side of life – aching griefs, disappointments, gory murders and deaths, kidnaps, too, betrayal and… love, I’d have remained in America – my homeland, jogging every morning, catching up on friends, keeping my snitch twin siblings – Mason and Madison out of my business, cruising Fairford Overlook and all of New York City with an almost inexhaustible dough. But I didn’t know of the consequences of a simple three day business trip to Bulgaria, and I paid for it… dearly.
We had a little breakfast of Sausage and Egg Sandwich with fruit smoothie at our large dinning room with the entire household. Madison was ranting off what my dad should bring as she packed her long blonde wavy hair into a bun, stopping it from being a nuisance while my brother munched off the Sausages from the wooden coloured, eight seat dining table with a complexly compacted chandelier hanging from above and diving with it’s golden glory into the middle of the posh German table where a Peruvian Lilies flower vase stood. My mum was on a video call. She was wanted to model for a beauty cream brand and she was giving her personal assistant orders on what to do to make sure it went as planned.**John F. Kennedy (JFK) Airport – an aerodrome vast in magnitude and even more momentous to NYC's economy appeared as nothing but a speckle as my dad’s executive SUV limo tore down the route passing through supermarkets, stalls,
“Just a week dad!” I said thumping my right feet on the black and white coloured Hotelgenix tiles that emulsified into one another at the center of the room creating an image of our milky way. Talk about perfection. “Four extra days, nothing more”, I added with a small frown and pouted lips that made me feel like I was 12.“Ugh, I didn’t bring enough clothes but let’s see” my dad said, helping himself with a Grey Shrimp Croquette then puckered at his laptop's screen as if concentrating on something, signaling an end of our conversation – at least, for that time.“I’ll be at Borisova resort” I added walking back to my room to order an helicopter as well as request for a tour guide who was well versed in the South Slavic language as well as English.
A sudden shock-wave and what sounded like a background choir marked the coming of an angel. After landing like a comet, a divine being with eyes like glass stood in my front. She look at me with her tanned eyes. It calmed my every fibre and made me feel drowsy.Her slender and muscular body glided in a careful manner and was covered in various markings. She carried a weapon of bright energy.I looked at her gentle face once more; a pained expression was visible. A halo suddenly flared brightly above her head, and consumed her. The angel was… Maisie and it was all a nightmare.**I woke up gagging on a cough. The winter was maliciously cold although the heater was working just as it should – but yet, I was sweating profusely.
My last three days in the South Eastern European State, Bulgaria were absorbing. My dad had struck an handsome deal and spent almost all his time either in the hot, aerated water of Hotelgenix’s spa or at the massage parlour giving his ol' skin a treat and rarely at a casino not too far from our hotel just to test if the “lucky necklace” my mum had given him once before his biggest contract signing was still potent.My last days were top notch fun. I visited parks and gardens. A museum also – with Maisie but finally, the day of my departure arrived and it was an emotional one.**The cold wintery breeze reduced the temperature of every thing – living or dead in Sofia and not even the heater in me and my dad’s rooms could save us. Snow had been falling for hours non-st
The birds cooed gaily not minding the whiter, foamier and more inviting snow that fell peacefully from the bluish sky.Perfection and high-spiritedness filled Fairford Overlook. Christmas flutes, fireworks and “Fairforders” teemed the streets – a few adults dressed in Santa's costumes while the kids that really did look like they had just arrived from the North Pole were dressed in green; Santa's elves, sharing gifts to all houses.Now! That was the kind of aura I loved waking up to meet after spending half my night wrapping gifts; a chevron necklace and a trinket dish for Madison, a Virtual Reality headset for Mason, a moonlight pyjamas for my mum and a wine subscription for my dad and even something for Sal, my best friend; a Phone Wooden Docking Station and AirPods leather case. It was a perfect Christmas but little did I know that it was to be a very horrible new year with tons of...**
Our home's entrance boomed through the air as I slammed it shut and hastened toward my room.“Where are your manners, Russell?” my mum’s thin voice said finding it’s way to the staircase where I was – a few steps left before getting to my room.“Sorry mum, evening!” I shouted back as I hastened to my room, locked myself in and slumped on my bed and ended up regretting it as a loose sock with blotches of different colours bounced off my bed and tried suffocating me with it's densely chummy stench as it landed directly on my nostrils.My throat went dry and itchy instantly, my head was heating up really fast as the hazy memories hidden behind time's facade of last winter began to unveil itself. I took an half empty bottle of water that I had left on my table last
So, as I pulled up in the garage, I could smell the pungent odour of problems brewing. Everywhere was unusually silent and as I got out of the car and slammed it's door, birds on the roof flew away in a rowdy flurry. Scared-y cats! Or do we still say bats?As I walked to the front door, I caught a face at the window peeking at me. It was Mason looking at me from above with eyes that screamed “doom!”. I rolled my eyes at him, got to the door and let myself in.**My dad wasn't back yet and that'd have been a good thing if mum wasn't going to snitch on me. She was still telling me about the things I should've done so that I could've gotten to school on time to prevent having detention but the sole thing I could conceive as she "ranted on" was... MAISIE!.
"I still don't get how you could've ever been with her bro" Sal said as he stuck his thumbs in the straps of his bag leaving room between his elbow and his abdomen. He kicked an empty can off the walk way as Mer interlocked her arms into his and caused a few bumps as she skipped a few times along with us.I sincerely didn't know either how I'd gotten together with Amaya. I never loved her because she'd always been way too fussy and awfully picky. She did almost whatever made her comfortable not minding others and that didn't still stop her from being a wimp. She was pained, pained that I wasn’t “hers” anymore and every single day made reality hit her more – she’d never get a chance with me, again. I was certain that I was accurate with my hypothesis because we'd grown almost together. We attended the same elementary school, high school and now, college.