OBLIVION

01

The sound of the water hitting the pier was gentle and unceasing. Constant. The intervals between the waves never changed. The incoming tide stained the posts of the pier only temporarily, before fading back to the color of wood bleached by the sun. My fingers grazed along the smooth planks, sanded by years of feet racing to dive off the edge. I smiled at the memories of a little girl comforted by her constants.

The end of summer in Upstate New York is hands down the best time of year. The trees are still green, but are flirting with the thought of warmer hues. The sun seems to radiate a deeper kind of glow, almost burnt out from working overtime the past three months. The pier, which only previously served the purpose of the perfect plunge into a lake that felt as vast as the ocean, became occupied by preteens laying out in the sun till it disappeared for the night. Those preteens then became sixteen year old girls that snuck out under the watch of a duplicitous moon and talked to boys far too old for them, emboldened by stolen sips of cheap tequila.

I would spend my days as a barista at TheKennedy, a local coffeehouse that turned into a not so secret speakeasy after dark. And I would spend my nights with my friends watching whatever washed up or up and coming artist they could book. Rainy days were spent at a thrift or book store. My aunt and I would eat indoor s'mores on the couch and binge watch trashy reality tv. It was all just so perfectly ordinary. Every summer that I have spent here has been nothing short of a symphony of peace and perfect pressure. The building up to the start of a new season, a new school year.

I picked at the red nail polish that decorated my fingertips. It chips off and flutters down past my tanned legs, into the crystal clear lake. I watch as the specks of crimson disappear. My smile has already slipped off my face.

I didn't know that last summer would be the last. I didn't know that this summer would be spent packing away my entire life into cardboard boxes. I didn't know my friends wouldn't even look my way if I passed them in the grocery store. I didn't know that I couldn't sit in the back pew of a chapel which was older than dirt and hear the judgmental whispers of women who were older than the chapel. I didn't know my aunt would spend every night at the kitchen table, having hushed conversations with people we owed way too much money to. I didn't know she would lose her job and have to drop everything to move across the country for another. I didn't know that the promise of a new school year, let alone my last one in high school, was a promise I could no longer count on. I didn't know I would spend my rainy days the same way I would spend the sunny ones: alone. I didn't know I didn't know I was going to self-destruct. Simply no longer exist.

At least in the way I always had.

How the hell did this happen?

My mind flashes back to three months prior, sitting across from my former principal, watching my entire life crash and burn.

Expelled.

shit.

Principal Samuels does little to hide her lack of emotion. Her arms remain crossed on the top of the mahogany desk, eyes void of any sympathy.

"Effective immediately, your present and potential scholarships, your college offers, and your enrollment at the Cunningham Academy are revoked."

I'm dumbfounded. I thought the hell that has been my life for the past couple months was finally over. I almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

You were supposed to help.

As she prattles on for what feels like years, I tune out the rest of the world. No. I think it tunes me out. I think my entire existence shatters. It doesn't matter what she's saying anyways. There is nothing I could do or say at this moment to fix it. I was never equipped to fix this in the first place. How do you go from the top of your class, daughter of a musical prodigy in the most esteemed musical program on the East Coast, and fail as miserably as I just have?