Here is the school building. Here is the school sign that read “Archer High School.” The ‘’s’’ is missing. Here are the steps; here is the door, swinging with its unfamiliar wheeze. Step with your right foot, and now your left.. Here are the walls. Empty and unfamiliar. Here is your backpack, heavy and hurting on your shoulders.
You’re not supposed to be here.
Where is your mother; your mother that you should be leading and holding her hand? Your blind mother, your blind mother since you were 7. You’re 15 now. Your mother is dead. She passed away 5 days ago. She left you alone. You turn to your left, where your mom should be, to find your sister-in-law. She is talking to a lady, signing you into school. Today is the first day; you’re 45 minutes late. Melinda, your sister-in-law, is still talking. She has been in your life since you were 2. She’s married to you brother, Nick. Your one and only brother.
Melinda finishes talking, ‘go to your 1st period class’ the lady says. Just before you are about to leave she ask, ‘ have you taken Pre Algebra?” You nod yes. She snatches your schedule from you, typing away on her computer. She prints out a paper, your other new schedule. You look down to see English 1 is your 1st period. “Hurry”, the lady says, “ you only have 7 minutes in your first class, than off to your second one”
The lady leads you to your locker, Locker 163; she points you off to the direction you need to go; all the way down this big hall. She tells you the school is built like a “T”. You nod, this woman is talking way too much for your liking. One last goodbye from Melinda and you’re off.
You don’t want to be here, but they asked if you wanted to wait a few more days. “5 days is not enough time,” they say. But you shocked your head ‘no’, and now you’re here, you are walking down this hall.
Your mom passed away 5 days ago, the world should have stopped, but it didn’t.
5 days have passed, your mom was a ‘human vegetable’ the doctors said. Your mom was blind; your mom had diabetes, your mom had dialysis, your mom kidneys didn’t work, your mom had many heart attacks, car wreaks, and many more health problems.
Your mom was also the strongest woman you ever knew.
Your mom passed away 5 days ago; the world should have stopped, but it didn’t. The world kept on going.
How could the world just keep going? An earthquake in India kills a thousand people and the world keeps on going. A famine in China kills a million people and the world keeps on going. The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center buckle and fall, and the world, the world keeps on going.
You get up in the morning, drink a glass of water, you make toast and spread butter on it. The mailman – who is actually a woman – hands you your mail, the lady across the street waves, you wave back. The phone rings you pick it up, you watch yourself doing this. Inside your heart can barely contain itself from the weight of its aching. You feel set apart from yourself, sometimes you think as you not I.
You find yourself at the door of the class you need to be at. No, I find myself at the door of the class I need to be at. I open it and step in; a class full of heads turns to me, including the teacher’s.
‘Rose!’ someone yells. I turn to the right to see a girl smiling at me. I know her. . I know her . . . I know her . . .
“Hey I know you,” Well I more than likely won’t remember you,” you’re Rose!”
Yeah, that’s me, Rose Groves. But no, I’m not, Rose Groves has a mom; a mom that is alive. Rose Groves doesn’t live in this small town Archer City, she left it years ago. Rose Groves lives in Corpus Christi, the sparking city by the sea.
“Yea.” I say. The teacher, looking like something straight out of a scary movie, looks me over. I try to picture what she sees. I am wearing skinny jeans, a purple shirt, and converse. My black, straight hair falls way past my shoulder, bangs covering my right eye. I know what she sees, or better assumes; I am Emo maybe Punk. Which are both very incorrect, she tells me to sit down and turns back to her computer.
Everyone continues talking; I sit down to the closest seat to the door. I began playing with my hair. I don’t bother to put my backpack down, even though I am pretty sure the straps are beginning to engrave into my shoulder. The ‘bell’ rings; I wince in pain. The blast of sounds rips through the other rooms and hall. Why is it called a bell? Bells ring. Bells chime. Bells are everything this sound is not. I quickly walk out of class, next: Biology. I sigh; this was going to be a long day. I walk down the halls, passing people, trying to find room 315. Before I know it I am lost in this crowd of a mess. I am a wave in this ocean, lost in the current.
[……]
The school day has ended, the bell that is not a bell has rang, I am at home. Not my home, but home. I am sitting on the couch the aching of my heart is too much to bare.
5 days ago my mom passed away, in a hospital bed in Corpus. And that was my moment. My moment when time tilted, plucked me up, and set me down again in this unimaginable place.
And sometimes, every minute is an effort not to scream. Not to scream, and scream.
Right now is one of those times. I look down and pull my legs to my chest. I bury my face in them; I feel a tear form, feel the lump in my throat grow, and the door open and shut. I stiffen, I don’t look up, and I bring my knees closer, if anything.
“Hey, Shorty.”
My heart stops, 5 days ago my mom passed away, and 2 month and ½ ago I met him. I met Gary.
I met Gary Thomas, and since than my life has changed.
“Hey.” I still don’t look up, I hold my breath until I hear his footsteps, and finally lift my head. I see him round the corner. Wait, I want to yell, please come back, come back to me. But I don’t, I stay quiet. He is gone; I beat myself up from not letting my eyes look at his beautiful face, even if it was for a second.
Two months and a ½ ago, I was at our local lake spending time with my family, or my now family. A 2 ½ months ago, I saw Gary’s face. I saw him smiling, heard his same my name – oh, what a beautiful sound – and looked into his eyes. Oh, his eyes. The most beautiful thing God ever made, absolutely breathtaking. A warm, yet sexy hazel, seeing through my very soul, analyzing every inch of my being. The day at the lake replayed in my mind.
[~*Flashback*~]
His arms around me, why does this feel so right?, me standing on his knees, us and the lake. His girlfriend –is she the girlfriend? –is getting out. Bye, I think. The boys, are already out, too.
“Are you scared?” Wait, how did it end me asking him this? One second he is trying to dunk me, pulling my by my legs, I kick my feet, he jumps up letting me know I’ve got him square in the nose. I feel terrible, Nancy, the gf, is asking if he is okay. He fine, he says, pushing her away.
And now here we are, his arms pulling me closer to him. If he had let me go right at that second, I wouldn’t have been able to reach. Unlike him, I am 5’5. He is 6’2, really tall in my POV.
“Scared of what?” I’m really not sure. I shrug my shoulders, he smiles, my heart stops. He pulls me closer, I allow him. I can feel him, his body pressed against mine, everything feeling like paradise. He walks, me still on his knees, closer to ‘shore’, I am sure I can touch now.
He leans into me, “When you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.” The way he said it gave me chills (And honestly, just think about it, I got the same reaction.)
“What do you mean?”
His voice was playful, but serious, and something else was mixed in there. . . .
“When you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.” He repeated.
I just looked at him, I felt uncomfortable, but at the same time something in me stirred. I have a really weird feeling, not ever recalling feeling this. He let’s me go, I turn away from him, what he said replaying in my head. I finally reach the sand, and look around trying to find my sandals, and than I am in the air. I am thrown over someone’s shoulder. I squirm, trying to get free, and I hear a laugh. Damn it.
“Gary! Put me down.”
“What?” He is laughing; the rest of my family is laugh.
“I said put me down!”
“Oh, I’ll put you down.”
I am pulled back over and push. My back and the water meeting in a painful reunion.
“Ouch!” I scream out, I pluck back out of the water, just in time to see Gary; smiling and jogging away.
[~*Flashback Ended*~]
I shake my head, trying to shake the memory, and the impact it has on me. What a day.
“What a damn day.” Just as I say the words, another memory comes into play.
[~*Flashback Again{(:}*~]
I had been walking out of the restroom; I could feel my bathing suit sticking to my ass and my top felt like it was showing half of my boob. (Sometimes being blessed in the front and back was NOT a good thing!) I turn the corner and see my family about 100 yards from me. I fix my hair, than decide to just throw it back, and continue walking.
“Mhmm-mhm-mhmm!”
Someone seemed to be enjoying what they were seeing; I knew it was problem me. (Another problem of being ‘gifted’; everyone starred!) I rolled my eyes and turned to face whoever was checking me out. Attitude was written all over my face, a smart-ass remark hanging on my tongue.
My eyes met Gary’s – all smart-ass remarks left the building –but I noticed something; they were not meeting mine back. They were roaming my body; I came to a complete stop and shifted uncomfortably.
“What?” his eyes continued to roam, leaving no spot untouched by his eyes.
“Oh, nothing.” He says grinning; his eyes –finally –look at mine and slowly find their way back down. A piece of me wants him to stop looking at me like that, but another, another wants him to do a little more than simply look.
[~*Flashback Ended*~]
And here I sit; here I sit thinking of him. Having this weird feeling, thinking these weird thoughts. But that is not what bothers me . . .
I, Rose Graves am 15. I, Rose Graves, am a freshman in High School, I live with my brother, Nick, and my sister in law, Melinda.
Gary Thomas is 22. He is also Melinda’s brother.
Gender:
Points: 300
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