Prologue

That is the only way, she assured herself, and strapped in to her snowboard. The bindings were relatively old, bought a few summers ago, and her feet hadn't grown much. The fit was snug, but not overbearingly so. She finished and looked out over her snowy kingdom. The pine trees were dipped in powder, muffling the roar of the mountain wind against Agatha Wilson's sensitive ears. The small Montana town was an ant.
                The descent would be long, she wouldn't kid herself. The path she had mapped out was unbeknownst to the world, and if the weather tipped even slightly out of favor, if the clouds decided to relieve themselves over the carefully- marked trails, she would be lost instantly. But she had to fight. Agatha enjoyed a challenge every now and then. Her hands shook, but not from the cold. She hopped up and dared the mountain.

* * *

Chapter One

........ . . . ....   ....   ...

she uncomfortably shifted her fingers.


. . . ..... ! . .. .    .     .   


her hands lifted from the keys.


           "What the hell..." Agatha griped. This never happened before. "Language!" her friend Henna jested. She knew that swearwords were a staple in Agatha's diet. But lately that diet had been nonexistant. Agatha rarely ate lunch anymore. "C'mon, the bell rang two minutes ago and I want to get to class on time!" Agatha jolted from the piano bench and awkwardly hurried after her.
           They walked side-by-side through the constant chatter, still managing a conversation. "Have you practiced your solo yet?" Henna asked pointedly; she knew that Agatha's clarinet hadn't been touched since District contests.
           "No, stop rubbing it in," she mumbled.
"Okay, okay. . . hey I'm just saying, you want to keep first part, you're going to need to want it. That's all." They parted ways, and Agatha picked up her pace. She couldn't afford to get late again.......
           "The clocks in the hallways are put at different times on fucking purpose," she fumed to herself as she walked into the classroom. A second too late. The Spanish teacher had already filled out a detention slip and handed it to her with a sickly sweet smile.

(pardon the change of point of view...)

        Tick tock. That clock was going too slow. I was slumped in a desk, staring glumly at the clock. Detention sucked, simply put. The teacher designated to watch the class was clacking away at her computer with such tenacity that I could have walked out unnoticed. Unfortunately, I had no ride home, so I was stuck. Hannah should have been in here with me, I thought. I raised my hand like a good pupil.
   "Yes?" the frog of a teacher looked at me haughtily.
"Is Hannah Planter on your list?"
   The teacher looked to the chart on her right. With a condescending glance, she declared, "Ms. Planter has been excused to go to cheerleading practice. Let me worry about her, and you worry about you."
            I retreated lower into my chair. Great. Not only am I stuck here, but that slut gets off to practice being a slut. Okay, here I am. That stupid clock hasn't bothered to move. It's broken. Oh well. "Time is up, you're free to go," The Frog croaked with a wave of her pudgy hand. I scrambled out of my seat and broke out of the classroom. I was headed for the band hall; the section of school where your valuables were least likely to be stolen; the one place you could always hear music. Since it was after school, the bandies could roam free, instruments in hand. As I strode down the hall in my usual long paces, a saxophone appeared next to me in the hands of my best friend. It was quite ironic, really. My best friend, Henna, had almost the same name as my worst enemy Hannah. Henna smiled and tried to get me to look at her. I stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice. "Have fun in detention, rebel?" she mused.
     "Hannah was excused yet again," I said, jaw clenched. "Oh,"Henna looked ahead too. Oftentimes she was the one to restrain my knuckle sandwich from being in Hannah's lunch. "Are you excited about summer vacation?" Henna piped up.
"Yeah," I mumbled. What was wrong with me? I'd never felt this angry before.
     "Look Ag, I know this is a stressful time for you, but you have to ignore people like Hannah." I looked over and grinned. "Fine." We came into the Band Room. The sax section was in the middle of practice, and they ogled at us while I dropped my loaded backpack to the floor. Mr. Fox, the woodwind instructor, was about to blow. Henna and I escaped outside through the door. We raced across the road and into the nature preserve that unofficially belonged to us. "Jeez, do you ever get tired?!" Henna gasped as we ran along the unmarked path, branches and twigs snapping like fanfare to our arrival. I led the way. We were venturing deeper inside, and the trees blocked out more and more sunlight. I knew exactly where I was going; it was the only journey I never lost my way on. Everything seemed mute and reverent as I came closer to my sanctuary. I was so focused on my way that I could no longer tell if Henna was behind me. Sunlight- a handful of rays- shone down on a tiny clearing ahead. I couldn't hear anything save for the music anxious to flow from my fingertips. A beam of sun illuminated the piano.