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Introduction

 

 

Normality is a paved road;

It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow

-Vincent van Gogh-

 

Newport sat in a hazy silence, a thick fog blanketing the ground while residence prepared for another day ahead of them. Waves tumbled softly onto the coast as the workers prepared to set out for a predetermined course. Cafes wafted the smell of freshly brewed coffee into the town streets to attract early bird customers. The small portside town was silent. Until the sound of feet hitting the concrete of the sidewalk divided the morning course.

Once again you were running late. If the alarm hadn’t run out of batteries the day before, this scenario would’ve been postponed. It was already a quarter past seven and if you didn’t hurry the school gates would lock and you’d have to explain to the school security why you were late. None of that interested you in the slightest.

Small beads of sweat collected on your brow as you kept running on the sidewalk feeling relieved once the schoolyard was in sight. Lactic acid was building its way through the leg muscles, causing a wave of soreness to shoot through them. The last stretch gruesome but short lived, body all sweaty and hunched over as you attempted to catch your breath. It was uneven and burned your dry throat with each inhale. Anything related to athletics or relied on athletic ability was not an activity you were strong at.

A few students looked on with sympathetic eyes as they walked past, all of them knowing the struggle of running behind. A few of them mirrored your appearance, lost of others having to run before the gate shut. You really wished the town would invest in some sort of public transit system. With a much more even breathe, you made your way into the school building and merged into the crowd of students. The vibration of metal scraping against concrete was enough to know that the gates were now closed. The sounds of mild chatter as students went about their business rung in your ears while the smell of school provided breakfast hung in the air.

You greeted a few people here and there while making way up to the fourth floor. After ascending the stairs, it took only a moment before your body b-lined it to the long line of lockers that hugged most of the walls in the school. Muscle memory took over, easily twirling in the combo before the door was swung open. It was relatively organized, a few textbooks that you hadn't needed last night for homework sat on a small metal shelf with a few stray pieces of paper lying at the bottom. You made a quick change, tosing in the jacket and some extra textbooks that wouldn’t be needed into the small shelf.

As you were tying your hair up in a quick pony a sudden feeling came over your body. It was as if a bucket of icy water had soaked through the fabric of your clothes. A violent shiver ran up your spine as goosebumps formed. Someone was watching, and very intensely. In an attempt not to seem obvious your eyes scanned the nearby area to see if anyone else was in the hall. Anyone who looked as if they were not meant to be there. But no one stood out. The only ones in the hall beside yourself were the usual students who were all paying attention to their own matters.

Maybe it was just the chill of the autumn air, but it didn’t make you any less tense. The school itself was categorized more or less by floors. The main floor is for shared spaces like specialized science labs, a small music room, the gym, the cafeteria, and the school office. Going up, the second floor is for the freshman, and so forth.

The walk to the classroom was filled with endless thoughts but you were brought out of it by your peers saying hi. It was easy to make small talk with them, as everyone in the room was fairly nice give or take a few but that was normal for any high school. The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the floor from the morning dew was enough to garner some more attention as you walked to the best seat in the classroom. Conversation soon filled the room once again. The others closer to your the table of choice made small talk, but nothing too deep.

Every now and then you would zone out, not that anyone really noticed. You had always found it strange, the way others interacted with you. It had always felt odd to call them friends, others never really made a connection. They were more than random strangers or acquaintances. The thought of your dad calling you a chameleon over dinner the other night crossed your mind causing you to chuckle. He did seem to have a point. You had always been like that It did seem as though you were able to blend into most situations, becoming part of the norm for whatever it was without much effort.

It was a curious situation indeed. While class didn’t start for another good ten minutes, you decided to take advantage of the situation and routinely went to the pouch you were careful to never leave the house without. Inside was a picture of your family, your dad, you, and your dog, along with a worn out journal and multiple pens of different varieties. It didn’t take more than a moment, before the page began to fill with ink.

 

The clocked ticked, the sound echoing through the room. Everyone was counting down the seconds until the bell would go off freeing them all from the prison cell called a classroom. Everyone was eagerly awaiting lunch with hungry stomachs. Well, almost everyone. Once the bell had gone off, you eagerly swung your backpack around your shoulder and quickly made it out of the classroom. The walk down the hall was filled with a few pushes and some shoves but that was to be expected with so many students flooding the halls and going towards the same destination.

While most students were headed to the cafeteria for lunch, you had other plans. Instead of following the flow, your body made its way to the back doors of the school were the open field and the forest was. A small walk later, you were now under a large oak tree with huge looming branches. The leaves were colored like fire, all assortments of reds, oranges, and yellows.

You spent the next 45 minutes with your headphones plugged in and your hands busying themselves withdrawing. The fall chill didn’t bother you, the large base of the oak was immense and was able to be a shield from the wind. It had been a great while since the wind had any effect, you practically grew up outside.

The wind felt good, as it ghosted across your face in a comforting breeze. You paused from drawing for a moment, wanting to focus on this moment. The smell of the cool sea air and pine needles mingled together. Somewhere you could hear the seals barking along the coast probably begging for pieces of fish from the fishing boats. The sky was a beautiful shade of the ocean on a calm summer's day and void of any clouds. You were content with the world, with life.

It was just your dad, you, and the big puppy dog. You named him when you first got him as a puppy when you were 11, Courage, after your favorite cartoon character. He wasn’t a very courageous dog though. On the contrary, he was terrified of most things from thunder to the vacuum cleaner. But the scaredy cat and all, he was your lovable pup.

The old man though was a goofy as could be. It’s just been the two of you for quite some time, your mom died while giving birth to you. He always told you about her though, made sure you knew who she was and how much she loves you. Sometimes at night, you could hear him talking to her picture, telling her about how proud she must be watching us from the sky. He did everything in his power to be the best dad he could be, and then some.

You had gone back to drawing, hands only slightly numb when you felt it again. That feeling of icy water being dumped all over your head. It seemed as if the cold soaked you down to the bone while whipping your head around to search for anyone. But most students had already headed back inside. No one was around. An eerie feeling flooded your system. It didn’t take long to pack up everything before heading back inside the building with panic steps.

Lunch had come and gone, leaving only the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. It was all your mind could think about, the two moments from today that left you in such a state. There was little to no chance that anyone had taken an interest in you long enough to watch what you were doing. Though there really wasn’t any other scenario in which someone would stare at you. It was very strange. You were out of it for most of the other classes after lunch, but eventually, you were able to switch gears when it came time to the best class of the whole day.

Oils. The smell of turpentine, as you got closer to the art room, invaded your nostrils in an unpleasant but satisfying smell. You sat at your usual easel by the window with just enough natural lighting to help you see but not too much as to wash out the colors. You made quick work of getting your supplies out and a smock tied around your waist. The familiar weight of the pallet in your hand, you quickly went to work trying to finish this quarter's final assessment done. Other students trickled in saying hi and getting their own supplies ready. The rest of the class time was spent with light hearted conversation and focused energy as everybody worked towards the same goal. Finishing their pieces in time for grading.

 

The school day ended in a rather lackluster fashion, but quickly nonetheless. Your sneakers made quick steps down the sidewalk and eventually up a dirt path to where a small shore side cabin sat. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocky shore was relaxing. The smell of smoke was enough to tell you that your dad was home and already had the fire going in the living room. You opened the door as you stepped inside, mindful to change from your shoes to some fuzzy slippers instead.

You lived in a modest cabin like house with your dad with Courage. The sound of paws clicking on hardwood floors was enough of a warning to know that your big baby of a dog was coming towards you, and coming towards you fast. Not a moment later you found yourself sitting on the ground with the fluff monster himself. Courage whined as he sat between your legs with closed eyes as you pet behind his ears. A laugh found its way out of your mouth before you got up much to his dismay. He trailed behind you into the kitchen nudging your hand with his nose every once and awhile. Your dad sat at the table with his a cup of coffee and a book, giving you knuckles to say hello. You chuckled at his antics and got ready to make dinner for the night.

Contrary to popular belief, your dad was an extremely good cook, but he was already cooking for a bunch of hungry men for lunch so the least you could do was help him every once and awhile. So you made a compromise to switch cooking nights on and off. One would do the cooking, the other would do the dishes which weren’t much since it was just the two of you.

You weren’t as great as your dad, but you could cook a few things here or there but nothing too fancy. A simple recipe would do that trick. Throughout the cooking process, your dad and you exchanged light banter with a few barks from Courage here or there. He mostly laid in his bed though. In the end, you ended up just making some chicken and veggies. Nothing too big but your dad ate it like it was the best thing ever. He always did.

“So what’s the rundown on school, kiddo?”

“Eh same old same old I guess. Nothing too exciting.”

Your dad knew that you’ve never really enjoyed school, but never pushed to tell him why. So you kept answers short trying to avoid the conversation altogether. Your dad, however, was awful at reading situations and continued to ask questions regarding school in particular. Dinner ended sooner rather than later to your relief thanks to being able to speed eat. You loved your dad but didn’t really want to be talking about school, you hadn’t always had the best of grades thanks to constantly zoning out.

The conversation was never to your liking so you grabbed your backpack, kissed your dad on the cheek, and retreated to your room. Through the walls, you were able to hear the water from the kitchen faucet sink running as your dad went about the dishes. You sighed, it seemed the older you got, the harder it got to talk to your dad. Maybe this is what people meant when they called it teenage rebellion. Maybe it was just harder to talk because things weren’t as simple as they used to be.

The homework for the night wasn’t all that hard, but very tedious in it of itself. It seemed as if it was more busy work than actual homework to retain new information. You grabbed your backpack and flung yourself onto your bed, it creaking slightly at the sudden weight. After a few hours of homework, it was starting to get harder to keep focused on the task at hand. You took a small moment to listen for any sounds, more so listening for your dad than anything. Whether he was awake or not would determine what you were going to do next. When the only thing that sounded through the house was the occasional crackles from an almost burnt out fire you knew your dad must’ve already gone to his room.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, you set off out of your room to the shared bathroom with your shower caddie. Having to share a bath with your dad meant that space was tight. Bringing shampoo and other items too and fro had started every since you stopped sharing bath items with your dad when you were just a kid. When you left your room, Courage was quietly resting by the fireplace, his tummy facing towards the low fire. He lifted his head off the ground only to look towards you for a second before going slumping back to lazing around.

A quick pit stop to the linen closet later, you were getting things set up for a relaxing shower. Soft music flowed through the small compressed space. The mellow beats soothing to the ears. The accents of water hitting the basin of the bath meshed into a subdued undertone to the music. Mist filled the air as the water boiled to a perfect shower.

You stripped out of the clothes you’d worn all day, sighing in content when the humid air hit your bare skin. Before stepping into the shower completely you allowed your hand to test out the water, pleased with the temperature. You were careful not to slip as you stepped into the basin before shutting the shower curtain behind yourself. The curtain muted the soft glow of the single light that was in the bath, but it was just enough to get by and not slip.

The shower was long and relaxing. The muscles in your body had loosened up in the heat of the water, giving away to the rhythmic pounding of water against your skin. When you had finally stepped out of the shower it had already been half an hour, longer than you would usually like but a luxury you took nonetheless. You took your time, having no reason to rush. Carefully smoothing on a thicker layer of lotion, the dryness of the winter air was enough to allow for it. With a clean towel, you wrapped your body in the soft cloth before collecting your things and opening the bathroom door.

The humid fog that had collected whooshed out from behind you when you opened the door. This time around Courage decided to follow you back to your room, making his way to sit by the bed. After closing the door, you were quick to dress in some warm sweats and a thick wool sweater with equally warm socks. The towel made brief work of your hair, leaving it only slightly damp after ruffling it a few times over. You plopped your glasses onto your face and once again opened your door.

Courage followed eagerly, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. He sat by idly and watched you put your sneakers back on your feet. After making sure they were tied securely, you grabbed Courage’s leash and latched it onto his collar. He was happy to carry the leash like he always did when he went out on his late night walks with you. A soft whine came back the back of his throat, making you chuckle as you opened the front door and stepped out onto the deck.

The walk started off nicely, Courage already knowing what path to take down the coast. The same path you’d walked with him for years. You did your part as an owner to stay relatively close to his side but allowed him the freedom to wander slightly. All of the locals of the town knew Courage by now, it was only tourists you had to really worry about. He has always been a very even headed dog since he was a puppy but he also grew anxious around strangers.

You walked silently, the pebbles crunched beneath the weight. Courage’s tailed back and forth just up ahead as he lead you further and further down the familiar path. He stopped a few times, once to take a potty break, a couple to stare out at the sea, and another potty break after. The pier, which was the turning point, grew closer. The sounds of ship crews calling out to one another and the humm of electricity was enough of a warning.

When you both got closer to the dock, you made sure to take Courage’s leash. You didn’t pull on him, but you also didn’t need any trouble this late at night. The only people who should be here this time of night would be the ships coming back in with the late night catch. Very few fairies set out without light, so tourist count should be low.

Men stopped occasionally to say hi to Courage. You recognized a few, some of them working on the day crew with your dad. He sometimes took Courage with him out on the boat when the waves were supposed to be on the calmer side. It was slightly uncomfortable for you to be around here. Even though you knew these men, having no other female companions or even strangers made you weary. You could never be too careful as they say.

You went to the one safe place you knew would be open, a small shop run by an older lady. She had been working around the docks for years and had known you since you were a kid. Courage followed happily to the small stall, sitting pretty to earn a treat. The woman chuckled before tossing a biscuit his way. She had already gotten your hot chocolate ready, something you were constantly coming back for especially in the colder weather.

“How’s your father dear?”

“He’s okay, the old guy’s still kicking.”

You both laughed, she had also known your dad since he was a teenager. He use to cause trouble around the docks and was quite notorious besides being part of a ship crew.

“You grow prettier every time I see you, I hope you’re able to keep the boys away,” she jested.

“Awe auntie no boys even talk to me much. You know how it is at school.”

Her face softens at your words. She had almost taken on the grandparent role for you, and a womanly figure in your life since you lacked one. Every night on your walks with Courage, a stop at her stall was mandatory. It was easier to tell her everything than your own dad. She just understood in a way that’s indescribable.

“None of the boys around town are good enough for you anyways, though don’t go around telling them that.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. She wasn’t only your elderly figure. Almost everybody knew her or of her. She was known as the kind face in town that would never ask questions and offer a smiling face when needed.

“Oh! But I did see some new lookers just a few moments ago,” her eyes scanned the many people walking around the dock before pointing towards a group of boys you hadn’t noticed before. They were huddled around the light post keeping to themselves, but you were able to see the cups of warm goodness they all held in their hands.

“There they are, they were all quite handsome albeit not very talkative. They've kept to themselves ever since they got here.”

That was enough for you to grow weary of them. They didn’t look like the regular tourist that Newport got. The boxes around them and large duffle bags were enough to figure out that they were planning to stay for a while. The thing was, no one had talked about any new neighbors coming in. It was impossible in a town this small to not have people talking to any new additions the city might get.

You bid the old woman goodbye and quickly lead Courage away from the docks. He was no longer wagging his tail. His ears were tucked back into his head, the same way they did when he was scared. You got that feeling again. As you walked away from the docks, away from the woman, away from those mysterious strangers, it felt as if a bucket of ice water were poured down your back. The feeling soaked you to the bones.

 

word count: 3814 words