@libbykensington
It has been a few sleepless nights since fellow student Daisey rutherford has been reported missing, and her absence has shaken us all to our core...
Lies. So rich was the St. Etienne campus with lies.
It wasn’t his classmate's fault, on her way to becoming a doctor like he was though she had the backbone of a jellyfish, and still couldn’t help the rage at her sniffling, her shoulders, audaciously shaking as if she knew more than Daisey’s first name. Something murmured to another student in the hall, about how she was just so young, how she was worried, how it could happen to any one of them...
“I’m sorry. But why the fuck are you crying?”
He was forcibly yanking his tie looser as he walked, brows knitted into his forehead. No calls, no texts, no emails had been answered since the day after the party. His party. And he had never felt so guilty in his life. Which was saying something. He needed to go. Anywhere. Needed to be somewhere so he could breathe again. Oz had been a track star, one of the University’s best, head of the team. When he ran, he ran fast. He didn’t know where he was going, he just let his feet carry him. And he didn’t stop. Until...
He knew this place. And he knew that familiar head of brunette hair.
Out of breath, his fingers loosened around his tie, letting it slip from them to collect with the leaves that had already begun to gather on the ground. Say what you will about Ashmont’s ethics. But it was beautiful. And Libby always seemed to know where the purest pockets of the town resided.
There was a moment, where Oz just stood, watching the wind blow through the grassy field he now found himself in. It was like an alternate universe, something out of a fairy tale book. Too quiet. Too calm. For how he felt.
“Hey Lib.” He couldn’t hear his voice and could only hope it sounded steady. Sitting next to her for a moment hands picking at the grass. “...You remember that” a chuckle, “-- Kite I had? And your dad would take you and Daisey and me to fly it sometimes because mine was...You know my father was always working. You remember?” A pause. Sometimes... Oz’s father would join them and shoot the breeze with the then district attorney while their mothers sat in the parlor room of one of their homes. Those were the days he felt most... safe. Like maybe life was -- could be -- normal and flying kites and Libby tackling him in a game of tag because even though she was younger she could more than keep up with him and questionable food items Daisey would make for him in her Easy-Bake Oven that he always ate without question was the cure for everything. “I don’t know. This place just reminds me of that.” Whatever small smile he had on his face, reminiscing about childhood nostalgia faded.
“...It was yellow. The kite.”
