Reflection About Aurelia

When I first saw the girl, I felt a gush of hope running through my mind. From that moment, I knew that this girl was the closest chance we had in order to fulfill the prophecy. Afterwards, I continued to follow her, keeping my identity hidden until we had reached the woods, when I realized that she was looking for something.

When I look at her I see myself moving away from all that I know and love like a blue whale swept from its cool ocean home to the hot sandy shore by an unexpected foamy wave. I see myself wearing black to school in an effort to participate in a funeral I cannot attend for someone who I loved who someone unexpectedly ripped from this earth like the girl sitting next to me rips her algebra homework from her bright pink spiral notebook. I see myself silently screaming to the starry sky begging for answers and wondering why no reply reaches my ears like a violent flash of lightning without the steady booming thunder to follow. I have suffered losses, my relationship with the Lord has stammered, and I have sinned. Though like the girl the silver remains slightly tarnished from these experiences, my chalice underneath still shines through. I would drain every last ounce of my thick scarlet blood to protect my family, and I regularly wrap my time and attention into a pretty little box with a bow on top as a gift to present to those who need them more than I do. Because of these actions and experiences, I am the girl in

I stare at her with wide eyes for a bit, I finally found my words, “Hey there.” Oops I said that a bit too loudly, I need to calm down a bit.

to her "Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my

I waddle over to her awkwardly through the middle row between the bus seats plopping down in relief when I get there. Happy that I wouldn’t be sitting alone, I couldn’t help but smile.

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Steve says. "Three in the morning doesn't sound like typical visiting hours."

“Lina, I have heard from your brother that you are sad about the robbery. It will be okay, the police are working hard to solve this mystery. I know how this mystery means so much to you.”

She hesitates, as if to say something more, but then she turns away and walks down the street. I watch her. She’s like my own reflection, in a mirror from which I am moving away.

"She did?" The detective asked surprised. When she remember the not so comfortable conversations with her, she tried to ignore the warmth she felt in her cheeks. "What did she.. uhm say exactly?"

She had been blessed with long, silky, blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes. I loved her eyes. They were the same color as our father’s, and with him gone, I often felt as though Kayla was my only way to hold on the a small glimpse of him I still had in my life. Our father had died when Kayla had only just turned four, so she didn’t have the memories of him that I did, and I knew she envied me for it. She was too sweet to ever treat someone with animosity, even if they deserved it, as I felt I probably often did. I was the fiery sister, the one with stubbornness leaking from every pore. I was the one who held grudges, and made sarcastic comments. She, in turn, was quick to forgive and offer favors. I envied her, this. I simply hadn't the patience to deal with all the backbiting falsies of the world. As I stood there, thinking these thoughts, she drew away from the door of her room, coming instead, to the door of mine. She leaned quietly against the door frame, simply watching me as I reached for my boots. She was a quiet one, my sister, always observing, taking the measure of everyone she crossed. I wondered what she was thinking now, with her watchful eyes gazing at me with thoughtfulness. Finally, after a moment or two she spoke. “ Are you ok, T? I heard your argument with mom.” I quickly looked up at her from where I sat on the bed, pulling on my brown and turquoise boots. Mom and I had been arguing about Kayla’s medicine. I hadn't known she could hear us, talking in low, fierce voices in the

“My office is right at the back of the clinic, I saw what was happening on the news and took precautions before they tried to check this room. They think the door won’t open because the room is empty and if you don’t mind me being quiet, I’d like to let them keep thinking that.” He grumbled.

As I walked I tried to think of Hope, green eyes, red hair, and her attitude, but the memories were faint. I couldn’t remember them.

“Hi Rose,” I call to her. I probably shouldn’t have though, because it seems to have actually brought her over to me.

deception and need for revenge continues to cause him to question himself and his existence. In

"You wont to go to the registration desk on the left of the entrance." He answered.