Chelsea Fine: Anew

Chelsea Fine

Acacia Publishing, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 by Chelsea Fine. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any methods, photocopying, scanning, electronic or otherwise, except as permitted by notation in the volume or under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the author.

Library of Congress Control Number:

2011961289

ISBN 978-1-935089-49-0

Contact the author via

www.TheArchersOfAvalon.com

Published by

Acacia Publishing, Inc.

Gilbert, Arizona

www.acaciapublishing.com

Cover photo by Ashley Bugg of Bugg Photographer LLC

Cover Design by Ashley Bugg, Jason Crye, and Chelsea Fine

Amazon Kindle edition

Also by Chelsea Fine

Sophie & Carter

This book is dedicated to my sister, Cameron—who helped make this dream, and this story, come true.

Thank you for all your late nights and early mornings, and for believing in my book even before it had an ending...or a plot. I’m so grateful for your honesty during all the first drafts and for laughing with me in the library until I cried. You’ve been my biggest cheerleader throughout life and I can’t thank you enough for your endless support and encouragement.

I love you, I love you, I love your guts!

She awoke with her face against cold, damp dirt. Morning sunlight cast a silent glow on the earth below, and somewhere nearby a bird began to sing.

Dawn.

She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around in confusion.

Where am I?

Tall trees and wild shrubs surrounded her, indicating she was in a forest.

A deserted and unfamiliar forest.

Carefully she stood and turned around, searching for anything that would help explain where she was. Her eyes canvassed the area, but nothing was familiar.

Nothing triggered any memory as to why she’d slept alone in the woods.

Nothing triggered any memory as to how she’d arrived there.

Nothing triggered…any memory at all….

Her breathing became more rapid as she tried to remember. She looked around desperately, her long dark hair swinging around her head as she spun in circles.

She glanced down at the clothes she wore and furrowed her brow in puzzlement. She didn’t remember getting dressed.

She began to panic.

More birds were chirping now, and the rising sun gave way to a shower of light, illuminating everything before her.

She couldn’t remember last night, or the night before, or the night before that…she couldn’t remember anything.

Not her family, not her past…. Nothing.

She rummaged through her brain for something—any information at all. She pressed her fingers to her temples as she thought, praying something would come to her, but her memories seemed lost.

Stolen, even.

As if plucked with magical precision from her head, leaving nothing but emptiness.

She was terrified.

She closed her eyes and tried to think. There had to be something in the emptiness; something inside her head that could echo back a memory. She scanned her mind desperately until finally….

Click.

Hidden far away, in the back of her brain, was a tiny scrap of knowledge. It flitted about like a hummingbird, teasing her with answers as she chased it around. Finally, she grasped it.

Her eyes flew open with two revelations.

Her name was Scarlet Jacobs and she was fifteen years old.

Aside from that, she remembered nothing.

Two years later…

The third weekend in June was, to most people, a three-day stretch of summer. To the townspeople of Avalon, Georgia, however, it was known as the Kissing Festival. For three weekend nights residents would gather in the town center for fun, food…and kissing.

Lots and lots of kissing.

It was tradition to greet your neighbor—or any other random stranger you came across—with a kiss. Sometimes these kisses were an innocent peck on the cheek and other times a passionate mouth-to-mouth embrace. Either way, it was difficult to spend an evening at the Kissing Festival without getting smooched.

Which was why Scarlet wanted to go home.

She stood amidst the kissing chaos in the town square waiting for Heather, her best friend—and self-declared fashion consultant—to show up.

Scarlet glanced around at the evening’s festivities. Kissing booths, kissing workshops, kissing competitions…all across town the celebration was in full swing.

It was similar to a New Year’s Eve party, but instead of mistletoe, the townsfolk hung paper stars above their doorways. And instead of a single evening with champagne and confetti, there was an entire weekend with parades and, well…confetti.

Scarlet sighed as the sun began to set. Heather was late, which was no surprise, but Scarlet didn’t like standing by herself in a crowd of tongue-happy citizens. Her fear of being kissed by some well-meaning neighbor was growing by the second.

She kicked at the sidewalk with a scuffed-up sneaker, trying to look uninterested. As music began playing in the distance, her blue eyes traced the familiar drawings she’d inked on the toes and sides of her shoes.

Scarlet had a tendency to doodle. She drew on her arms, her legs, and any napkin she could get her hands on.

But, mostly, she drew on her shoes.

And she drew one thing in particular: A circular symbol with an arrowhead in the center.

It was the only memory—or rather, image —her broken mind had managed to retrieve since her “great awakening” in the woods two years ago. And it flashed within her brain and floated in and out of her dreams relentlessly.

Scarlet looked down at her feet where she’d drawn the mysterious symbol dozens of times.

Surely, it meant something.

Surely, if Scarlet was able to salvage the image from the wreckage of her amnesia it must be significant.

But what did it mean? Scarlet couldn’t remember.

Which was the story of her life.

Her chest tightened as she thought back over the last twenty-seven months. The day she awoke in the outer forest of Avalon was the scariest day of her life. No fear could compare to the fear of the unknown. Especially when the unknown was her .

The days following her awakening were still a blur. Scarlet remembered hospitals, social workers and police reports, but not clearly. The first clear memory she had was the day she met her guardian-to-be, Laura Walker.

Laura was an attractive young businesswoman who managed to get custody of Scarlet despite the many court hurdles associated with abandoned minors. She took Scarlet in, gave her a home, and tried to make her life as normal as possible.

But normal was easier said than done.

Not knowing what existed in the past was like running through a maze blindfolded.

And that’s how Scarlet had felt.

Blind and lost. Running through a dark labyrinth without direction, without purpose.

For months, Scarlet was plagued by nightmares and racing thoughts. She was a missing person whom no one missed; a fact that ate mercilessly at her newfound life. Unanswered questions had tormented her while fear crept into every pore of her being and taunted her soul.

But Laura had been compassionate, sympathetic, and hopeful.

She’d encouraged Scarlet not to give up on her past, believing Scarlet would one day recover her memories. Laura managed to give her support and understanding without treating her like a broken doll in need of repair.