I. MIDSUMMER 1982

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❝ do you remember karr,dahlia? ❞

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do you
remember karr,
dahlia?

CHAPTER ONE:
MIDSUMMER 1982

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Here I am, sitting in the backseat of my father's Corvette staring at the dancing leaves and flowers in bloom that we pass by. The morning sun was gleaming softly through the car's window with its warmth touching my skin. It was the midsummer.

The summer solstice has begun and all I felt was this daybreak of heart inside me. The quietude and the nothingness I felt was slowly elevating in the pace of our vehicle, leaving the traces of hidden regrets.

We were bound to visit my Auntie Nida who lived in the far province of Pennytown which was told to be where the daylight shines longest. My father told me there were valleys of blooming flowers and it would've been better if we were there in spring, and it's too bad we weren't.

I didn't like going there at all. It was a quiet place of silence and emptiness. My last visit in Pennytown was back in my childhood when I was around five or six years old; I'm certain it's far from how I imagined the place to what it actually is now.

Now, I'm fourteen and I don't think I'd enjoy much of the solitude as much as I enjoyed the bustling streets of the metropolis where I was raised. Growing up, I never really liked the quiet much.

"Do you remember Karr, Dahlia?" my father asks, glancing at me from the rear-view mirror.

"No: I don't remember any guy named Care, Daddy."

"It's 'Karr' like 'care,' dear. But well, I think you'd be more than glad to meet him. I'm pretty sure you'll remember him when we get there, though." he chuckles.

Then, my father fixated his gaze on the road and kept quiet for a long time. I did, too; but I only did so because I'd rather keep silent than have an exasperating conversation with my father.

I'd tell you, my father and I never really got along and I was never really a daddy's girl like most of my peers are. Most of them only suck up to their parents because they needed the money for a perm or to buy new hot rollers or whatever they want to buy for themselves.

"How's your brother doing up there, Doll?" he asks again.

"He's okay." I respond briefly.

The soft daylight gently beamed on my dress, its sunshine warmth showing through the fabric. I stared at the horizon following the vehicle and the sun chasing my skin.

"Can I open the window?" I asked. He only nodded and continued to drive.

"Don't open it too much, sweetheart." Just like what he did, I only nodded in response.

I rolled down the window and felt the tranquil wind caress my hair and kiss my skin. The fresh breeze of the morning air gently touched my rosy cheeks and stroked my dress with its subtle wind.

I stuck my hand out of the window to feel the cold wind of dayglow.

Refreshed, I rested my hand there, hanging out of a moving vehicle and feeling the breeze plant kisses on my skin.

Then I snuck my head out the window and closed my eyes as I felt the gentleness of the province embrace me with its windy bliss.

Gently, I opened my eyes and rested my arms flat on the open window. Tilting my head and glancing from side to side, I got my mesmerized by the sunshine chasing the vehicle. I removed my hair tie with my free hand and let the wind breathe in my hair gracefully.

This is peace. Not that boring ride staring at those mundane nothings listening to my dad chat about things that always end to no avail.

"Dahlia, get back in the car!" shouted my dad but I only pretended not to hear.

"I said get back in the car!"

Out of irritation, I only returned myself inside the car and sat there with a look of contempt in my face.

"Do you really wanna show up there in a bloodbath in front of your Auntie Nida? Really, Doll?"

"What harm's gonna do me there? And I don't care anyway."

Then my father sat there in silence and continued to disregard me all because arguing with me would be completely tiresome and onerous in a way that he would come to the conclusion that everything he does for me would be pointless.

So when I sat there, boredom took over as I watched the car pass by random greeneries and empty skies of a variety of colours. My eyelids fell heavy and I feel sleep clouding over me.

I don't have a choice now, do I? I guess I just have to accept my fate of spending the midsummer looking for a tolerable atmosphere in a conversation and a fairly decent friend.

It's gonna be exciting, I hope. But the uncertainty I always feel whenever I enter a world that is not of my own, nervosity always tends to take place. I wouldn't have to worry now, would I? The secret (probably) is to calm down and let things be.

The only things to suppress now are my words and oddly vocal feelings, I guess.

But what's it gonna do me, anyway. The hell with it.

If I were to be truly honest, I'd say I don't even know half the people living in Pennytown who apparently know me as this little girl raised in the city by their "Dan" or as I'd like to call "my father."

I heard my old man murmur words about "demolishing the site" and construction, engineering, whatever-you-call-it jargon as the haze of sleep started to take over me. For a moment there it felt like trains were crashing onto my forehead, and dad saying things I couldn't bear to comprehend only worsened that sickness.

With all these thoughts dancing like destructive tornadoes around my head, I fell into a half slumber hearing my father's CD of The Carpenters playing on the stereo. It was like a lullaby though. Lullabies like my mother's.

I was lulled into sleep and fell in a sweet stillness in the sun's gentle kiss. 

It was peaceful, and it put me at ease. It was like soft freefalls of honey dripping on your fingers.

So I rested on this cloud of sleep and laid there for a while as my body fell heavy, looking for comfort.

Things got a bit blurry when my father awakened me by constantly shaking me further.

I open my eyes and look around to see the car door was open and so was the trunk of the Corvette.

My vision was fixated on the colourful array of flower bushes and dancing trees; but if I were to be real honest, I was fully awoken by the loud laughter of a boy riding his bicycle.

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