Skylar Lawrence was a very quiet little girl. When she was a baby, she lost her parents in a car accident and was raised by her grandmother in the small town in Vermont. Those few things she knew about her parents were mainly the memories she built from the photos and some of their belongings. She never actually missed them; she did not feel she was ever familiar with the people she saw on the photos.
She spent her childhood and youth years in that same town she left after having entered the college. That time she left, she left it forever except that week she came to her grandma’s funeral in the middle of spring term. That day has changed her, made her feel totally alone in the big brave world, made her hate her solitude, which lasted until she met Hayden Foster-the love of her life, her future husband that cured her from her superstitions, prejudice, preconceptions, paranoia and what’s the most important–loneliness. She was looking for him for a very long time before she found the person she pictured in her head as a perfect idea, like the shining star that would light up her way.
She was dreaming about someone, who would come to her life not to visit, but to stay; someone, who would love the chocolate cake and hate the olives, just like she did; someone, who would see, understand and accept the monsters she was holding in her drawers and her wardrobe, and let her keep them; someone, who would see the beauty and the ugliness in every single human being; someone, who would be able to see the world not the way it was, but in the way she saw it, so gorgeous and so monstrous, so innocent and so filthy, full of the amazing things that are easy to create and easy to destroy. Eventually she met that person, he came out of her. She met him long time after she was meant to, in the most uncomfortable time, but she met him. Moreover, she made him.
Skylar Lawrence was special. Everybody said that-her grandma, her teachers, her neighbors, her friends. But it turned out to be a problem when she became too special. Her grandmother was taking a very good care of her, at times even being too strict. Skylar had dark blond hair always braided or scraped into the ponytail. Her clothes were always ironed and neat. Her manners were just fine, her posture was perfect, and she never sat with her knees apart. She was not very social, but had several school friends, who immediately stopped talking to her after everybody discovered what she was capable of.
Skylar Lawrence was special. Everybody said that-her grandma, her teachers, her neighbors, her friends. But it turned out to be a problem when she became too special. Her grandmother was taking a very good care of her, at times even being too strict. Skylar had dark blond hair always braided or scraped into the ponytail. Her clothes were always ironed and neat. Her manners were just fine, her posture was perfect, and she never sat with her knees apart. She was not very social, but had several school friends, who immediately stopped talking to her after everybody discovered what she was capable of.
One of those days when she was a child, she was playing outside with her ball, and it rolled into the neighbor’s rosebush. When she finally got it from there, having scratched her forearms to blood she saw two patent-leather shoes standing on the grass. She raised her gaze and stood up. ‘Who wears leather shoes in summer?’ she thought.
‘I do,’ answered the boy standing opposite her. ‘These are my favorite shoes; I wear them every day.’