Frosted Glass || Short Story✔

2

Shortly after our eighteenth birthday parties, a tall, ruggedly handsome, blue eyed, raven haired artist moved into our community. He was welcomed with open arms and he moved into a mint green, two bedroom cottage near the lake.

Ordinarily, he seemed like a simple enough guy, but there was something sinister about the glint in his eyes that I didn't like. Much to the disapproval of her parents and I, Ciara started hanging out with him.

One day that she convinced me to go to his house with her, he painted a picture of her while wearing tattered jeans and no shirt. He had a really nice, muscular physique and my friend couldn't stop giggling throughout. He was twenty three  and ‘mysterious’ all the girls (and some of their mum's) except me, had a crush on him, Ciara thought she was lucky to have his attention. 

Little did she know....

By the time that our university admission letters started coming in the mail, Ciara and I were over the moon. We had both applied to the University of Manchester and both of us were admitted, she for Biochemistry and I for Law. Basking in the glory of the good news, all of us were devastated by what happened next. 

Ciara Manning was found dead near the lake, a week after we got our admission letters. I was out of town when I got the news. The whole town was in tears when she was buried shortly afterwards. 

Apparently, she had a severe asthma attack when she was by herself at the lake, she wasn't with her inhaler and unfortunately didn't survive.

I was besides myself with grief and shock. All the plans we had to move out of our town and start our new lives as 'grown up women' were dashed.

Ciara's parents and little brother moved out of town a few months later. I guess they couldn't bear living in that house without her in it. I kept in touch, but when I  resumed at Manchester the year after, our calls became less frequent.