XXIV. The old and the new

Cara

As the months faded away, I did too.

I felt like a completely different person now, a ghost of my true self. This was weird considering that I had lived this exact same life before...before Ivan came along, before everything happened.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror I felt oddly bored. I should have been happy, but I wasn't. I felt like I wasn't doing what I was meant to do. I felt unfulfilled.

The long black gown flowed down my legs, falling nearly at my feet, only inches away. My two inch, silver stilettos matched the diamond studs I wore. The earring were a gift from my father and the gems on them were real too, a few carats. I had been overjoyed when my father gave them to me just the night before, saying I would have to wear them on this day.

My light brown hair poured out from under the graduation cap, cascading down my shoulders like a waterfall and reaching my waist. It had grown longer, I hadn't trimmed it in a while.

My lips shined with cherry red lip gloss, a little graduation gift from Liza, I had in turn given her a key chain. To Alice I gave a wooden paint palette and a tiny set of artist's brushes, she had been indulging in painting lately. We had all agreed to keep it small and cheap when exchanging gifts.

It was nice to have friends. They provided good companionship and sometimes kept me from thinking about Ivan.

Alice and Lisa were the first true friends I had ever had, not to mention the longest lasting friendship. Whenever I made friends, it would only take a little while till my father and I were moving again and I had to begin the entire process again.

In addition to our unstable lives -which was a result of my father's career -, when my mother left us, it became a serious problem for me to socialize as I feared everyone would leave me like she had. It had taken a lot of reassuarance from my father that her leaving had nothing to do with me to get me to the right place emotionally.

Now that I had Alice and Lisa, I was truly grateful. They were amazingly supportive, even when I could only tell them that I was just feeling down. They almost made me forget all about him. Keyword; almost.

I must admit, I missed him, a lot, too much in fact. I missed him coming over to my place. I missed curling up on the couch and watching a movie with him or talking in the kitchen as I cooked something up for the both of us. He never failed to complement me on my cooking, or on anything for that matter. Whenever I opened the door for him he would greet me then tell that I was beautiful.

Just the memory of his voice made me shiver. My ears would drink the sound in like a thirsty man does when he finally gets a sip of water.

I thought about him frequently, when I was in the kitchen, in the living room and especially when I went to the forest. I guess that's why I liked it there so much. It made me feel like he was there. Everything about it brought him back to me, the fresh scent, the peace.

Over weeks, since what happened happened, I had started to become less and less afraid. Of course it was traumatizing, what he did, seeing it happen right before my eyes, him turning, ripping Hoff apart, taking away any shred of life left. It brought chill in my mind.

Honestly, I did not know where I stood. Did I want to see him again? Did I fear him? Definitely. Could I look past this? Highly unlikely.

But I would release a breath of relief when remembering what Hoff had almost done to me, knowing in my memory that any second now Ivan would appear and save me.

My eyes moved to the lacrosse stick on the bed. Aeren had returned it. It looked the same but it wasn't. He had modified it for my protection. All you had to do was grabbed both sides of it and pull. It would instantly split into two, revealing a blade that was attached to the back of the stick. It formed a short spear-like object and boy was it sharp.

The blade was attached to the stick. It was the shape of a long arrowhead with a marquise shaped space in the middle.

I prayed I would never have to use it.

I was grateful for the boy's help but I had never seen him again after the day he brought it back to me.

Searching the room for my wrist watch, my gaze fell on the desk. I noticed the writing pad and pen. There were only a few words written down, two word actually, 'It's Cara'....

Feeling a frustrated I angrily tore off the sheet from the pad, crushed it up in my hand and threw it in the bin. It joined many others.

I had wanted to reply to my mother's letter but I did not know what to write. As I result of this, I had gone throw four notepads in a week.

Something else caught my gaze, the necklace Ivan had gifted me. I had decided to take it off and rid myself of memories of the happy and unknowing moments of my life.

It had been so simple...so uncomplicated. I lamented, looking back on the time when Ivan was just guy who saved me in the woods,a guy I seriously liked and not the guy who'd torn apart my vampire teacher.

A knock sounded from the door. I knew it was my father.

"Come in, dad," I responded. My father walked into to the room. He was dressed in a navy blue suit with a white tie. I noticed the gold cufflinks he wore. This was truly a special occassion, he never pulled out the gold ones.

"You look beautiful, honey," he paired his complement with a gentle kiss on my forehead, a gesture of the deep affection he had for me. He tried his best to make me feel as loved as possible. I knew it was his way for making up for the fact that my mother had left and it was only him.

"Thank you, dad. " I smiled warmly at him, my way of telling him that I was fine with the way we were, that he was enough for me. " You look great. Must me some occasion for you to pull of the gold cufflinks."

"It is. I have looked forward to this day since the first time you made me help you with you art project," he joked.

I laughed thinking back to when I coerced him into helping me make a model of the Washington Monument.

That was a while back but I still wasn't good with liquid glue.

***

It was evening now. We were back home after a long day. The graduation had been amazing. Graduates walking around in their regalia, having a blast, parents taking pictures with their kids, it was quite something.

While most of my class was at a party on the other side of town, my friends and I were at my place having a celebration of our own.

Lisa had wanted to attend the party but she found out that it was being thrown by her ex-boyfriend and she could not stand the sight of that 'cheating son of a bitch' as she colorfully referred to him. It was a real treat watching her complain about him.

"I think it's time I pulled this out," Dad said, his hand reaching up to the top compartment on the wooden wine rack in the kitchen. He placed a bottle on the counter, his precious Loire Valley Cheval blanc."Do you know where I got this bottle?"

I shook my head.

"It was a gift from your grandmother, you know how she loves her wines...she gave me this when you were born...It decided to save it till you were grown...I told her that I would drink it when you graduate high school...when I knew I had accomplished something."

His words brought tears to my eyes. I was greatly touched.

We all shared the bottle. He refused to give us more than a glass especially since my friends' parents may have complained.

***

Not surprisingly, by midnight, my father was passed out in the couch. He really was getting old. He even had a few grey hairs, of course he always denied it, according to him. He had even stooped as low as dying his hair a darker shade.

The last time he slept on the couch he complained of backache the entire day so I chose to wake him. He went to bed upstairs.

Once my father was sure to be asleep we decided to have some fun but not before raiding the wine rack in the kitchen.

I figured that I should be mischievous for once and make fresh new memories that would hopefully block out the old ones.

Alice was very much against it but she had no choice, we voted on it, she lost fair and square : one to three.

It was probably best to take the cheapest bottle, that way, he would not notice. We did just that, the lucky bottle being a two year old Chardonnay. We did not care for glasses: glasses meant more evidence and evidence meant getting caught.

We took turns, passing the bottle around like a blunt between stoners.

Soon enough, I was "buzzed' if that is even the correct term. Plainly put, I was drunk. But I wasn't as drunk as Liza who was drunkly swinging around the kitchen singing 'Chandelier 'by Sia. Thankfully, my father was the deepest of sleepers.

As the clock struck through the late hours, the warmth in my chest began to wear off and I was sobering up. Liza ;however, appeared more intoxicated than before. Turns out she does not hold her liquor well.

"God, I am drunk," Liza said with a soft giggle. " I should probably stop..." she said turning to the now empty bottle., "oops! I'll take it out."

She got off the stool and headed out the door aiming for the trash bin behind the house. She was now out of sight.

Then there was a scream.