I had spent that entire night doing homework, studying until no other thoughts could fill my mind. Three assignments later, my legs were numb and I was starving. I opened the fridge, but I didn’t really feel like the leftover lasagne from the night before. I glanced at the clock and sighed. Nine o’clock. I should have eaten hours ago, but I didn’t really feel like dinner.
My phone vibrated on the couch and I reached down to grab it.
‘HEY BABE, GOT EXCITING NEWS. YOU BUSY? XX’
I sighed. She always had such crazy shit going on in her life. Harper was a weird one. She’d been my best friend since we were little, and she still is these days. But her life was always insane.
‘NOT BUSY AT ALL, WAS JUST MAKING SOME BROWNIES. COME OVER WHENEVER :D’ I replied, getting out the ingredients necessary for brownies. It didn’t take me long to prepare. After all, brownies are my speciality. They were in the oven within five minutes.
While I waited for them to cook, I made sure that my trackies looked okay, that my chocolate brown hair was still neat, and reapplied my eyeliner. I sighed, looking at my appearance in the mirror. I couldn’t be as obsessive as I normally was tonight. This would just have to do.
The doorbell rang just as I was taking the brownies out of the oven, and Harper walked in, a whirlwind as always.
‘So,’ she said, striking a pose, ‘What do you think?’
To be honest, at the time, I couldn’t think of anything that was different. Maybe the hair? ‘Nice haircut.’
She looked up, startled, ‘Well… Thank you, but that totally wasn’t what I was referring to.’
She brushed her peroxide blonde fringe from her eyes as she spoke. And that was when I noticed it. The ring. Five tiny diamonds encased in white gold. I stared.
‘Nice ring.’ I tried again.
‘About time you noticed. Guess what!’ She grabbed a brownie from the plate and flopped down on my couch, pushing my laptop up onto the windowsill.
I couldn’t even reply. I sat staring at her ring, realising that it was on her fourth finger, on her left hand.
‘I’m ENGAGED!’ she cried, clearly exasperated that I hadn’t asked yet.
‘Tyler proposed? But it’s so close to the end of the year. Shouldn’t you guys think about this more after your exams?’ My common sense had returned.
Harper just rolled eyes at me, ‘You aren’t happy.’
‘I am happy for you. It’s just that I think you shouldn’t be getting too distracted this time of year.’ I walked over to her and gave her the most enormous hug I could. ‘Of course I’m happy for you.’
‘I know you are,’ she said with a smile. ‘Anyway, there was another reason this couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I wanted to ask you if you would be my bridesmaid.’
An immediate, involuntary shudder went down my spine at the word. Bridesmaid. ‘Bridesmaid?’
Harper laughed, ‘Of course. Who else would I want?’
I hugged her again. ‘Of course I will. I’m so honoured you asked me.’
Long after she left I sat on the couch, staring out the window, into the darkness of that cold, stormy night. Bridesmaid?
***
The girl could have been no more than thirteen years old. She stood at the front of the old chapel, in a soft yellow dress that fell to her knees. In her hands she held a beautiful bouquet of white lilies and tiny white flowers. Her flowing chocolate coloured hair fell half way down her back, and was curled in neat ringlets. She was a pretty girl, quite short for her age but subtly beautiful. Her smile was emphasised by the subtle make up she wore, but it didn’t reach her pale grey eyes. Eyes that showed nothing but pain and fear. She smiled a little wider as the bride came down the aisle, blushing in her pure white wedding dress. The girl avoided looking at the rows of chairs, at the people gathered around for this ‘happy’ occasion. She avoided the eyes that she knew were watching her.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
~Chapter 2 ~ i don't want to die, but i'm not keen on living either
In the remaining two weeks of the term we spent a lot of time together. He began spending lunchtimes with my friends in the library. In fact, after that first day, I rarely heard him mention his old friends at all.
'What's for lunch?' a familiar voice asked from behind me. I grabbed a bottle of lemonade. 'Not hungry...?'
I glanced at him, shaking my head before I handed the cafeteria lady my money.
'Thanks love,' she said in her British accent, dropping the coins into the till and charging him for his burger.
I walked outside and sat against a wall on the other side of the courtyard, closing my eyes, and letting the warm spring sun heat my eyelids. It was five or six minutes before I heard the footsteps approach, before someone's shadow blocked out my sunlight. I was careful not to move, not to open my eyes, not to make a sound. I didn’t want to know who was there, I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to talk. I reached down, feeling for my bottle of lemonade and felt a hand grab mine. I jerked my hand away, my eyes open – suddenly alert.
‘Sorry,’ he said, his hand falling back into his lap.
‘Oh. It’s you. Uh… Hi?’ I took my bottle of lemonade, blushing at having been so stupid. I wanted him to take my hand again. This time, I wouldn’t let go.
‘So…’ he said, glancing at me, waiting until I turned a little more towards him before he spoke again. ‘Why aren’t we eating?’
I shrugged, ‘Don’t feel well.’
‘Hmm… I see.’ He took a bite of his burger, turning to face me, closer than before. ‘And why are we outside?’
I closed my eyes again, letting the warm sun heat my eyelids, ‘Dying of lack of vitamin D…?’
He laughed, a soft musical laugh. ‘Study break?’ He guessed.
I sighed. ‘Something like that.’
We spent that lunch time together, outside, soaking up the sun, soaking up each other. We both learnt as much as we could about the other. I learnt that his father was dead, that he had three sisters and that he loved spiders. He learnt that I lived alone, that I didn’t know my family, and that I hated spiders.
I still remember that afternoon, even now, after everything that has happened. I remember every word we spoke, every secret shared. I remember the abnormal sense of ease. I remember feeling no fear, even though he now knew more about me than anyone; despite the fact that he hardly knew anything. That there was no way he could know everything.
I remember the warmth of his hand as he took mine to help me stand. And I remember the way he didn’t let go until the teacher walked through the door of our next class. I remember how grateful I was that I had already finished the chapter my class was working on, grateful that I didn’t need to pay a shred of attention. I remember the way my mind span, full of everything he had said, full of everything I had told him, full of questions and very few answers.
***
The sand was warm, though the day before had been cold. A small girl, of about two or three years old played quietly in the shallow water with her older brother. They splashed water at one another, running and emitting tiny squeals of delight. The boy pushed his sister’s deep brown hair out of her face, splashing water on her arms. She ran at him, attaching herself to him as they both dunked under the water…
***
I remember that afternoon, walking home in the rain, during a thunderstorm that had come out of nowhere. One minute the sky had been the most brilliant blue, and the next it was bucketing down. I had pulled my hood over my head, tucked my headphones into my ears and walked, trying not to look as startled as I felt when the enormous rumbles of thunder cracked above my head.
I hurried through my door, hung up my coat and went straight to the bathroom. The first thing I did was turn the water on as hot as it would go, before grabbing a change of clothes from my room.
The water was scalding hot, prickling my skin. The steam surrounded me, fogging the mirrors and the glass, filling the room, filling my mind so that I could concentrate on nothing but calming down, and relaxing every muscle in my body. When finally I was relaxed, I dressed and took my laptop and novel to the couch against the window in the lounge room. That couch was one of my favourite places in the entire house. It was new, and so soft. Besides, the view of the sky on a day like that was unlike any other. I still remember the countless nights I had spent curled up on the couch, reading, writing, watching a movie, doing homework… crying.
I remember the rain collecting in puddles outside my window, the trees bending in the wind, as though a giant had pushed them over, the lightning that crashed down in amazing pinks and yellows that contrasted so sharply with the deep grey sky. But mostly I remember the thunder, the constant crashing throughout the night.
This would be the perfect night, I thought to myself, as the thunder rolled again, the perfect night to kill myself.
As soon as that thought entered my mind, I did everything I could to brush it off, to change the path of my thoughts. But after all, what did I have to live for? What point was there in life when I had already lost everything? Why should I bother, when even the things I should have control over have been ripped from me?
I remember shivering violently. I wasn’t really thinking about this… Was I? Oh, but I was. I knew I was. After everything that had happened, it was probably surprising that I hadn’t seriously considered that before now. But I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t. I couldn’t let myself down. I knew that I had to keep going, I had to finish high school, university, get a job, find someone. Make a life for myself.
'What's for lunch?' a familiar voice asked from behind me. I grabbed a bottle of lemonade. 'Not hungry...?'
I glanced at him, shaking my head before I handed the cafeteria lady my money.
'Thanks love,' she said in her British accent, dropping the coins into the till and charging him for his burger.
I walked outside and sat against a wall on the other side of the courtyard, closing my eyes, and letting the warm spring sun heat my eyelids. It was five or six minutes before I heard the footsteps approach, before someone's shadow blocked out my sunlight. I was careful not to move, not to open my eyes, not to make a sound. I didn’t want to know who was there, I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to talk. I reached down, feeling for my bottle of lemonade and felt a hand grab mine. I jerked my hand away, my eyes open – suddenly alert.
‘Sorry,’ he said, his hand falling back into his lap.
‘Oh. It’s you. Uh… Hi?’ I took my bottle of lemonade, blushing at having been so stupid. I wanted him to take my hand again. This time, I wouldn’t let go.
‘So…’ he said, glancing at me, waiting until I turned a little more towards him before he spoke again. ‘Why aren’t we eating?’
I shrugged, ‘Don’t feel well.’
‘Hmm… I see.’ He took a bite of his burger, turning to face me, closer than before. ‘And why are we outside?’
I closed my eyes again, letting the warm sun heat my eyelids, ‘Dying of lack of vitamin D…?’
He laughed, a soft musical laugh. ‘Study break?’ He guessed.
I sighed. ‘Something like that.’
We spent that lunch time together, outside, soaking up the sun, soaking up each other. We both learnt as much as we could about the other. I learnt that his father was dead, that he had three sisters and that he loved spiders. He learnt that I lived alone, that I didn’t know my family, and that I hated spiders.
I still remember that afternoon, even now, after everything that has happened. I remember every word we spoke, every secret shared. I remember the abnormal sense of ease. I remember feeling no fear, even though he now knew more about me than anyone; despite the fact that he hardly knew anything. That there was no way he could know everything.
I remember the warmth of his hand as he took mine to help me stand. And I remember the way he didn’t let go until the teacher walked through the door of our next class. I remember how grateful I was that I had already finished the chapter my class was working on, grateful that I didn’t need to pay a shred of attention. I remember the way my mind span, full of everything he had said, full of everything I had told him, full of questions and very few answers.
***
The sand was warm, though the day before had been cold. A small girl, of about two or three years old played quietly in the shallow water with her older brother. They splashed water at one another, running and emitting tiny squeals of delight. The boy pushed his sister’s deep brown hair out of her face, splashing water on her arms. She ran at him, attaching herself to him as they both dunked under the water…
***
I remember that afternoon, walking home in the rain, during a thunderstorm that had come out of nowhere. One minute the sky had been the most brilliant blue, and the next it was bucketing down. I had pulled my hood over my head, tucked my headphones into my ears and walked, trying not to look as startled as I felt when the enormous rumbles of thunder cracked above my head.
I hurried through my door, hung up my coat and went straight to the bathroom. The first thing I did was turn the water on as hot as it would go, before grabbing a change of clothes from my room.
The water was scalding hot, prickling my skin. The steam surrounded me, fogging the mirrors and the glass, filling the room, filling my mind so that I could concentrate on nothing but calming down, and relaxing every muscle in my body. When finally I was relaxed, I dressed and took my laptop and novel to the couch against the window in the lounge room. That couch was one of my favourite places in the entire house. It was new, and so soft. Besides, the view of the sky on a day like that was unlike any other. I still remember the countless nights I had spent curled up on the couch, reading, writing, watching a movie, doing homework… crying.
I remember the rain collecting in puddles outside my window, the trees bending in the wind, as though a giant had pushed them over, the lightning that crashed down in amazing pinks and yellows that contrasted so sharply with the deep grey sky. But mostly I remember the thunder, the constant crashing throughout the night.
This would be the perfect night, I thought to myself, as the thunder rolled again, the perfect night to kill myself.
As soon as that thought entered my mind, I did everything I could to brush it off, to change the path of my thoughts. But after all, what did I have to live for? What point was there in life when I had already lost everything? Why should I bother, when even the things I should have control over have been ripped from me?
I remember shivering violently. I wasn’t really thinking about this… Was I? Oh, but I was. I knew I was. After everything that had happened, it was probably surprising that I hadn’t seriously considered that before now. But I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t. I couldn’t let myself down. I knew that I had to keep going, I had to finish high school, university, get a job, find someone. Make a life for myself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
