CHAPTER 2

“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m doing this” Pandora ached, pushing her satiny, salty-caramel hair behind her shoulders.

“Your father wouldn’t like that, Ms Warren” Lousie uttered, throwing a quick glance at Pandora before he focused on the road again.

“I know,” Pandora muttered, scanning the school gate outside of her window. “I wish I could just…ugh I don’t know” she said, gaining Lousie’s full attention. “I’m always tired. I have no appetite and I can’t sleep… I’m just so tired…” Pandora admitted, combing her willowy fingers through her hair once again.  

Pandora hated her hair. Mid-waist warm caramel brown hair that fell straight down. She absolutely hated the way it perfectly matched Clifford’s crown. Clifford had never allowed her to cut it, put it up nor braid it. He’d have the maids brush her hair one hundred times exactly, every morning, evening and night, having them repeat this exhausting process if they miscounted. And Pandora never bothered to do it herself, after he’d had the maids beat her for tying it up. She didn’t care about changing it after that incident. Starving and locking her away in his musty work room, for dressing, writing or living in any way he didn’t approve of, Pandora eventually broke. She accepted the fact that she didn’t live for herself, and that she belonged to Clifford, giving in and submitting to him. 

“Don’t mess your hair up too much. He won’t like it” Louise warned. 

Sighing she replied, “I won’t”, releasing the strands entangled in her fingers. 

Pandora had no relationship with her biological mother. She’d witnessed the woman beg Clifford to let her see Pandora. Young Pandora was curious about the woman that yelled her name and pleaded with Clifford every day. Unruly hair in a frizzy braid, with a sickly face and disgustingly thin body, Pandora found her unpleasant. But she felt comfort in knowing that there was someone who wanted her. Pandora wanted her as well and she wanted to speak with that woman, look at her up close. 

On a murky Thursday evening, after violin class, Pandora heard the woman’s voice again. No longer holding any anger, fight or urgency in her voice, the woman sounded weak and desperate. Following the frail voice that led Pandora to the main-room balcony, and just like she’d witnessed the woman beg to see her, she witnessed the woman’s conclusion. With a strident thud, the woman fell to the ground. Her disfigured face, demolished head and razed body, fractured Pandora’s schoolgirl mind. Pandora fought the instinct she had to embrace the lifeless body. A part of her 7 year old mind did believe that the woman she’d always seen loved her. And young Pandora craved motherly love and affection. So she reached out and touched the fallen corpse. Waiting for the woman to get back up and call out her name once again. Pandora laid down beside it, and hugged the woman whom she believed was her mother. Burying her head in the woman’s hollow chest, Pandora felt an odd sense of familiarity and comfort. 

Days passed by, with young Pandora eyeing the windows that displayed the front yard. Hoping for the woman to return, she waited. She waited through bustling summers, quiet autumns, beautiful winters and she waited through the unsatisfying springs. Pandora longed to see her again, and so she waited patiently clinging onto her decaying hope, which fell apart as each day passed. 

It was only when Pandora was 10 that she realised that the woman she’d been waiting for was never coming back. Her frail mind refusing to accept the death of the woman, Pandora painted a different picture, a one with hope; her biological mother had left her to go on a short trip, and would eventually return back to collect Pandora. Seasons changed and Pandora grew into her teens. She was coloured with betrayal. She was 15 now, and the woman she prayed to see every night, was never returning.

Pandora tasted the bitterness of heartbreak.

And her heart deteriorated into a barren land.

Left all alone to the maids after the passing of her mother, she clung onto Louise for a sense of security. 

“I can drive you to the sea-side after the session today. Let you clear your mind” Louise suggested, smiling warmly at her. 

Pandora smiled back, bare with emotion, she clipped her hair to the right side of her face, clasping it back with a silver, white stoned serpent clip. 

“Thank you Lou”. 

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“Utterly ridiculous” Eleanor vented, “I cannot believe I need to attend this stupid session on creative writing. What more could I possibly learn?”. Buttoning her crisp white shirt up, Eleanore continued her rant, “ I know everything there is to know about it. Plus writing isn’t something you can just learn, it’s a talent you need to be born with.”Eleanor bragged. . 

“I thought we agreed on trying to make an effort, Ellie,” Anjali reminded, unclasping Eleanor’s bear-black curls. 

“I am trying” Eleanor said, placing heavier emphasis on the am , “Can you do the fishy braid?”.

“Fish-tail braid” Anjali corrected, smiling at her 17 year old. 

Anjali was more than satisfied with the way Eleanor had turned out to be. She felt pride in seeing just how much her daughter had grown up into Erik. And Anjali felt comforted knowing that Eleanor was nothing like her. 

Eleanor had her deep-black curls arrested into a long fishtail braid, while Anjali had hers form a luscious dark cloud surrounding her heart-shaped face.

“All done” Anjali sang, wrapping her arms around Eleanor.

“Thank you” Eleanor chimed in, hugging her mother back. Lifting herself off the mauve velvet floor cushion, “we better get going”, Eleanor suggested.

“Yeah” Anjali agreed before calling for Ezra.

Ezra Andrew Liyanage was the result of Anjali’s winter fling that stuck on for way longer than she’d anticipated. She’d only desired a brief encounter with Andrew, not wanting to feel lonely during Christmas. It had been her third Christmas after Erik’s passing, and with the 26th being his death anniversary, Anjali longed for romance. Choosing to believe that romance was all Anjali wanted,  what she really needed was a sense of grounding in the harsh winds of December. Anjali hated the winters in Leigh-on-Sea. With no snow but unforgiving chills and hail storms that frightened her. Anjali was terrified. She was a single mother with no university degree working at a convenience store in a foreign country. But little Eleanor kept Anjali warm, as she welcomed her second child Ezra. 

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“Thank you for taking time out of your day to show me around the school” Pandora flashed her classic-beauty smile at Mr Gregory.

“It was my pleasure Pandora” The headmaster replied, eyeing her elongated physic. 

Feeling his eyes wondering over her, Pandora excused herself heading into the bathroom.

“You can call me Ms Warren” Pandora shot back, towering over the headmaster in her silver heels. 

“Oh I’m so sorry Pan-Ms Warren” Mr Gregory managed, adjusting his tie. 

She was never truly comfortable with men, and she despised the way they perceived her. All men were bastards to Pandora. Clifford certainly was, and every other man she met was. All except for Louise. 

Pushing open the heavy steel handle on the bathroom door, Pandora glided into the pink-tiled room, ramming herself into Eleanor, as they both crashed to the ground. 

“Oh. I’m terribly sorry about that” Pandora excused, helping Eleanor up, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes. Don’t worry about it” Eleanor responded kindly. She was awestruck by Pandora. Azure smart-casual knee length dress that perfectly complemented Pandora’s figure and complection. Her hair was as light and warm as honey. Her eyes were glowing jade beads. And her voice was soft but husky. Pandora carried herself with grace and confidence, and Eleanor desired to be like that. 

“You’ve got beautiful hair” Pandora complimented, “may I have your name?”

“My name is Eleanor Liyanage” Eleanor chirped.

“I’m Pandora Warren. It’s so nice to meet you Eleanor” Pandora said, tilting her head to the right she smiled. 

“I know who you are. I’m a big fan of your work. I loved the Butterfly Boy. It’s my favourite book of your’s.” Eleanor cheered on, grinning from ear to ear, making Pandora smile wider. 

For the first time, Pandora didn’t need to force herself to smile. It came to her naturally, when she’d seen Eleanor. It felt refreshing. 

“Are you a writer yourself?” 

“Yes! Yes I am.” Eleanor answered.

“Then would you like to meet up after the session today?” Pandora invited, “I’d like to see some of your work” 

“Yes of course. I…I would really like that” Eleanor spoke out excitedly. 

Pandora’s heart had become barren, when she had realised her mother would never return to her. And for the very first time in forever, she felt a viridescent, green seedling sprout out inside of her. How adorable Pandora thought, seeing Eleanor’s innocence twinkle in her eyes. There was something irresistible about Eleanor and Pandora felt a strong pull towards Eleanor. The uncontrollable hungry sensation a fox felt for a rabbit. 

Pandora now wanted Eleanor, as their worlds had collided. She knew she’d grow increasingly attached to the teenage girl.

So very adorable, Pandora smirked.

Chapter 3 will be out on the 23rd of July.

By Kisavi Jayawardena