The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 1 - Fate's beginnings

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment in your life that everything changed. You could argue that it's the big, dramatic moments that matter the most. However, I know now that it's the little things that add up to create those big moments. So, it's the little moments that I would forever look out for.  And, looking back, it's even harder to find one single person to blame for the events that led to the life changing moments that were occurring around me.

    But what really makes me angry, or sad (depending on my mood), is knowing that there is absolutely nothing anyone could do to alter the events that pushed my life through the palms of my hands.

    Is that what fate is? The unstoppable action that leads to the demise of your happiness. Or was that the fate that people were afraid to consider? Most see fate as the uncontainable link to another being  or thing at the most unexpected moment like meeting someone on a train you caught because you missed the last one or even the job you applied for at the last minute only for it to become your life-long occupation. The fate that people talked about always had a positive and a negative.

    I knew better. I knew this wasn't the case. Few consider fate as being the answer to the bad things that happen in your life. The things that are beyond your control or understanding. The things that happen because maybe you just deserved it.

"First of all, we want you to know that none of this is anyone's fault," my dad begins as he slowly rubs his hands up and down my arm. Beside him, my mother nods along while peering around the room. Why was she so nervous?

    That's technically the moment that this all started. Well, for me. For them, it must have begun long before that. Even for them, I know it starts at different points.

    My dad went on to explain that they had lost feelings for each other - after 25 years - and were splitting up after coming to a mutual agreement. I later found out that, of course, this was not the case. In no way was it mutual. My mother had approached my dad with the topic and had suggested they spent some time apart. To grow.

    That seems okay - right? Of course a seventeen year old could handle their parents splitting up. It wasn't the end of the world. I would still see them both, I could have two bedrooms instead of one, and, most importantly, they were doing this to be happier. That's all that mattered to me. At first, I definitely took it harder because I was an only child. I had no one I could relate to about this. I didn't want to bore my friends with how I was feeling. I didn't want to upset my parents any more because I was struggling with the concept of divorce. If I had a sister, or brother, it would have been different. But, I was alone. I had to remind myself that whatever I was feeling was temporary and that their happiness was worth my current confusing state.

    However, that wasn't even the icing on the cake. It could have been enough to crumple the mountain I was sitting nicely on but fate had more up its sleeve.

    Two months after my parents announced their split, my mother left. At seventeen I watched my mother walk out the front door without a glance backwards to say goodbye. She wanted more from life. She wanted to see the world and meet new people. From what I gathered, we just held her back. That's why she had to go.

    That's what led us here. We tried to continue with life, as normal, in a house we once shared with a ghost and memories around every corner but it was too hard. We needed a new house, a new school, a new job for dad, and new memories. A new life without my mother.

    Coming from a big city, I knew I would stick out like a sore thumb in the small town. From what I had seen so far, the people were quiet (which suited me) but had watchful eyes. The neighbours dropped off home-made banana bread the night we moved in and smiled, sometimes waved, when we saw them in the garden. The husband even mentioned a football game to my father while his wife asked me about school. Contrastingly, nobody spoke to me in school. The teachers were lovely and welcoming, and I wouldn't say the other people were rude but they just stuck to their own circles. No one caught my eyes in the hallway, no one put their hand out for me to shake, and no one asked for my name. And, truthfully, that suited me just fine. Friends meant questions and I just didn't want to deal with answers.

    Plus, I didn't need people to speak directly to me to hear the gossip. In the corridors, in line for lunch, in the classrooms or in the library, they all seemed to gravitate towards one topic. A boy. From what I had gathered, he wasn't just a simple student that went about his business and got on with his work. They spoke of him as though he was their very own local celebrity with friends and fans just waiting to spend time with him. Their descriptions of him made it easy to spot him in the corridors. I had only seen him a few times but he'd never minded his rude stare. Despite being talked about constantly, I felt he had an aura of mystery surrounding him. Perhaps it was the small circle of friends he never strayed from. Even so, the things that I had overheard had influenced any first impression I would personally have of him. They talked about his anger and the fact he chased fights, they complained about his control and the fact he didn't like any competition. At first, the stories were hard to believe but maybe that was just because I was new here. Naive. He was a typical bad-boy troublemaker with a formal name: George.

    Not wanting to get mixed up in any of that, I avoid him. Oh, is he walking towards me in the corridor? Let me turn my head into my locker. Hm, is that him sitting close to me in class? The board is so interesting. I wanted nothing more than to stay out of his way and avoid collecting evidence for the reputation I had heard so much about.

    For the first handful of weeks, that's my routine. I sit outside during lunch - unless it's raining, then I go to the library - and read a book. No one asks questions, no one wonders why I'm sitting alone, and it's time to go home before I know it. Being alone meant this whole school experience would go by quickly with minimal distractions or drama. At home, dad works late. His reasoning is that it provides us with extra money but I knew he just wanted to keep busy. It's his way of coping with all the change and to forget how much he misses his ex-wife. He knows I can handle myself but he's not sure he can handle himself.

    Everything falls into a cycle. The weeks go by without a thought with little variation in the day-to-day activities. I go to my classes, get the work done, avoid social interactions, and spend the weekend with my dad. We fall into a blissful ignorance of our problems and do anything we can to keep it this way.

    And what could fate do about that? Nothing.

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This chapter provides a little backstory to our main character, Luna!