Harper's Hill: Chapter 1 — The Ghosts of Harper's Hill

When Emily Pierce was four years old, she walked into her parents' bedroom to find her mother passed out on the bed. Emily didn't know what was wrong with her, just that it looked like she was barely breathing. At four years old, you can't blame Emily for not knowing what to do. What would you have done?

Emily spent the rest of that night sitting beside her mom on the bed, watching her chest move. In. Out. In. Out. She convinced herself that if she fell asleep and stopped watching, her mom wouldn't wake up the next morning. As she sat there, she prayed and prayed, even though she didn't even know that that was what she was doing.

Both of Emily's parents were addicts. Yes, it's cliché. The only parents on the wrong side of the tracks always seem to be strung out in some way. However, clichés are called clichés because they're often true. Born in the early 80s, Emily's parents grew up right when the East side of town was going to shit. They stayed behind, but they were children, so they didn't really have a choice.

However, those two children grew up in dramatically different circumstances. Emily's maternal grandfather, Edgar, worked in Redwood Valley at the time of the divide. Him and her maternal grandmother, Susan, saw no reason to leave the East side. He had always gone to work and took care of things financially, while she stayed at home taking care of everything else.

Edgar and Susan had five children. The first four were boys, and then Sharon was born in 1982. This was Emily's mother. Once his daughter was born, Edgar saw nothing beyond her. He started to distance himself from everybody and focus all of his attention on Sharon, and it caused a divide within their own family.

Sharon's mother, Susan, died young. She was 48. Edgar hated himself for neglecting her and causing this to happen, even though it was just plain bad luck that she contracted bacterial meningitis before vaccines were as widespread as they are now. His sons were gone too — the three oldest had moved out to the West side of Harper's Hill and his youngest son had moved to Redwood Valley. It left him with just Sharon.

Susan's death affected Emily's mother in ways that she couldn't explain. She was just a teenager. She had never felt so conflicted, so scared, so... lost. No one can imagine the pain of losing a mother. One second you're in the world, held and comforted, and the next you're in an abyss. It's dark. It's cold. Each second that passes takes away more oxygen in this non-existent room that you're somehow existing in, at least temporarily.

She stumbled through the abyss for about a year before meeting Raymond, Emily's father. 22 at the time, Ray had been going through a tough time ever since he could remember. His parents were never stable, financially or mentally, so he grew up all over the East side. He didn't have a place to call home, so instead he found a home in getting high.

When he met Sharon at the start of 1999, he was starting to get tired of soft-core substances, like marijuana and magic mushrooms. He wanted to experiment with things like cocaine, and pills a few years later, before transitioning to much harder drugs. But that random New Years kiss with a stranger at a bar at midnight turned into a string of dates, which turned into Sharon and Ray sleeping together for the first time. Nine months later, James was born. Like they always say, it only takes once.

Edgar was furious when he found out about his daughter's pregnancy. He blamed Ray, he blamed himself, and he blamed the world. But he was a man of tradition, so a small wedding ceremony took place the summer before Sharon gave birth. Before people could really tell that she was pregnant. If people found out, they would talk. They would say it was because she lost her mother so young, they would say it was because of his bad parenting, they would say it was because of him.

Emily was born in 2002. Right from the start, Emily was aware. She would observe everything around her, taking it all in, every moment squeezed from her childhood, down to the last bitter drop.

Emily would think about that night with her mom when she was four, and she would think about it often. Sitting on the front lawn, she shook her head and tried to push the memory out of her mind. At least for now, because it always came back.

"What are you doing now?" Emily asked her brother, who was working on a car in the driveway.

"You know what I'm doing," James said from somewhere under the car. "I'm fixing Clark's car."

Emily rolled her eyes and kicked her brother's foot, which was sticking out in front of her. "I meant how are you fixing it, dumbass," She clarified. "Like, what are you doing now?"

"Do you care?" James asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Emily asked back.

James sighed and rolled his way out from under the car, eventually standing up and wiping his hands on the rag that he had thrown over his shoulder. "Because it's car stuff, Emmy. I didn't think you'd be interested."

"Well, maybe I should learn," Emily decided, right then and there. "I mean, shouldn't I know how to fix a car? Isn't that a valuable skill?"

James chuckled and started to pack up some of his tools, putting them into a toolbox. "You can't just learn how to fix a car just like that," He said, snapping his fingers. "It's a skill. It takes time and effort."

"And I'm not capable of that?" Emily asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh come on, don't go there," He groaned. "Stop giving me this shit. Don't you have a grocery run to go on?"

Emily was a writer, but she actually made most of her money by getting groceries for various people in the East side. She had no problems travelling to the West side, always feeling like a bit of a nomad every time she stepped foot on "their land."

She shrugged. "I just don't feel like going over the hill right now," She admitted. "Not in the mood to see the shiny faces of every person on every corner, telling me how I should come to their latest art show or consider donating to their very good cause."

"But that's what you're good at," James said. "You're perfect at this because those people see you as just another person. They don't really see you for who you are, which is just another kid from the East side."

"Why do you always say that?" Emily groaned, laying back in the grass and looking up at the sky. The sky never seemed to be clear in the East side for some cosmic reason, but the sun was shining bright today. "I'd like to believe that I'm meant to be more than that."

"There's nothing wrong with being from the East side, Emmy, you know that. I'm not saying you're from the East as a bad thing," He explained. "I'm just saying, those people don't know you're from the East and you should use that to your advantage. Use your magical skills to slip by every stupid street dancer and ignore their pleading for your attention."

Emily didn't say anything, just kept looking up at the sky and trying to find shapes in the clouds, but she couldn't see anything. Even the clouds in the East were no good.

"See, you're ignoring me right now," He pointed out with a chuckle. "You're already so good at it."

Emily groaned again. "Shut up James," She said as she got up and wiped herself off. "I guess I'll go, but only because I want to make money... not because of your shit pep talk."

"It still worked, though," James said, pointing a finger gun at her. She couldn't help but laugh as she turned and walked to her car, getting in the driver's seat. She started the engine and then waved at her brother as she drove away, heading up to the road that would take her over the hill and into the West side.