Chapters (42)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- PART ONE MONODY
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- PART TWO FUGUE CONCERTO
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- PART THREE SONATA APPASSIONATA
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- PART FOUR CODA
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
That realization no longer was just a mental one. Her expendability hit her chest and stomach with the force of a semi truck. She unzipped her backpack to find her blankie. Holding it, she pulled Clifford close to her, as if the closer she held them both, the higher the chance was that the agony would go away. But it didn’t. Instead, that despair eventually lulled her into a cold, restless, dreamless sleep.
Panic woke her after just a few hours, panic that robbed the peaceful transition between sleeping and awake; panic that reminded her of the reality of her life in that moment before her eyes had even opened. The light that was slowly brightening before the sun had risen issued a warning. A warning of being found out.
Aria collected Clifford under her coat again, pulled her backpack over her shoulders and snuck away from the school grounds. Walking away, she turned back and realized that she was leaving her life behind in layers. First, the place she was supposed to belong with a family, called home. Second, the place she was supposed to learn to belong in society, called school. She was conscious that this meant she was dropping out. As much pain as there was in making the choice to leave it all behind, it was scary how easy it was. It took no effort. The fact that she could just slip away like this meant that there was nothing holding her there in the first place. That anything she thought was there to hold her wasn’t real. Grieving the loss of the illusion of that external security, she boarded a city bus.
Sitting in the very back of the bus, she kept her eye on the driver. Careful to conceal Clifford, she moved her body as much as was necessary to keep him placid and to not look suspicious. When she’d stayed on the bus for so long that her continued presence there began to create a palpable tension, she got off. She was in a part of town near the museum. To Aria, it felt like she had stepped away from one flavor of sadness straight into another. The path of devastation seemed to have led her in a circle against her will.