Okay everyone, I wrote the following story for my Creative Writing class....I put a lot of blood(paper cuts), tears, and love into it. Hope you enjoy it!!!! Please let me know what you think!!!!
This is a copyrighted work of fiction by the author Beth Ann Koustas. All rights reserved.
Saturday morning cartoons. I used to love them when I was younger. I wish life really was like in the cartoons, where you can drop on anvil on your own head and walk away unscathed. Where people get out of a car after it’s wrecked and just walk away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I had been intended to grow up with two happy parents, and my annoying little brother. But instead, there I was, standing on my aunt’s doorstep. The social worker just left me there after wishing me good luck. I’d never met my aunt before, but she was now the only family I had. I hoped she would like me. The door opened, interrupting my thoughts. The woman behind the door looked cruel and sterile.
“May I help you?
“Um,” I stumbled, looking down at a piece of paper that was in my hand. The social worker had given it to me.
“Are you Mrs. O’Brien?”
“Yes.” The longer we stood there, the more agitated she became.
“I’m Lina, your sister’s daughter.”
“I know exactly who you are. The social worker said you’d be coming,” she huffed. I stood there for a few more awkward moments as a heavy silence washed over us.
“May I please come in?” I finally inquired.
“I suppose.” She mumbled, moving out of the doorway and disappearing into the house. I stepped forward into her two-story home. The floor instantly creaked as I rested my feet in the foyer.
The house looked surprisingly warm and it was hard to believe that the uptight woman who had answered the door lived in this warm and comforting environment. The foyer led to a room with leather furniture and a fireplace with a flat screen TV hanging over the mantle.
I looked around for Mrs. O’Brien, and realized I had lost her. I walked through a connecting doorway and found the kitchen. It was instantaneously clear that Mrs. O’Brien wasn’t much of a cook. The kitchen looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Mrs. O’Brien was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. I cringed when I caught a glimpse of the head line, “Dead Politician’s Daughter Released from Hospital.”
I cleared my throat and she looked up from her paper with a scowl. I was beginning to wonder whether it was a permanent scowl. In all of the five minutes I’d know her, it’s all she’d worn.
“What?”
“Where can I put my stuff?” I asked, holding up my bag, which contained my few prized processions.
“You can put then anywhere, but I’d prefer that you put then in your room.”
“Where is my room?” After weeks in a hospital room, the last thing I wanted to do was stay in a room and stare at walls. A few more days of that would have driven me completely insane.
“Third from the left upstairs,” she responded, and with that, she went back to reading her paper.
**********
It was raining, and neither of her parents wanted to go out in it. But the girl insisted on going to her band practice. Everyone told her she was a musical prodigy when it came to her guitar playing. And she loved it. Her parents gave in, of course. She was their baby girl after all. So they grabbed her baby brother, Gabriel, and settled him in his car seat. Pulling out of the driveway, they thought their luck was improving. The rain had stopped.
**********
As I entered the room, I was amazed. The walls were painted a warm blue, and it was calming. I instantly felt more peaceful. A window was placed in the middle of the wall opposite the door. I could see a little bird nesting in the tree. It amazed me how someone’s world can be falling apart, but everyone else’s life continued, completely oblivious to the other’s pain.
The bathroom was connected to my room, which was a luxury I was not used to. At home, we only had one bathroom that everyone had to share. I walked by the bathroom mirror and winced. I hated mirrors. I looked like a monster. A scar ran down my face, starting at the corner of my right eye, working it’s way all the way down to the bottom of my chin. It was a daily reminder, one I would rather have done without. I quickly left the mirror, looking for something to cover it with. In my mind, if I covered up the mirror and pretended it never happened, it would disappear.
I opened up my bag, being careful not to catch anything on the zipper. These were the only possessions I still had to my name. A picture of my family, which I quickly hid in a drawer, was lying on top. It was followed by my childhood bunny, my clothes, a bag full of my various pain medicines and sleeping pills, and my guitar. I rested my guitar against the wall. I slipped into my pajamas. Swallowing my various sleeping medications, I climbed into bed with the hope that maybe I could get through the night without any nightmares.
**********
“Good morning,” I said as I walked into the kitchen in my pajamas. The night had been a good one, I hadn’t had any nightmares. A night without nightmares had become a rare luxury for me since the accident.
“Morning,” Mrs. O’Brien said.
“Here” She handed me a plate full of eggs. I hated eggs, but I sat down and ate them anyway. I didn’t want to get even further on her bad side.
We should talk,” she commented, sitting down across the table from me.
“Ok” I replied while gagging down my eggs.
“I’d like for you to call me Jamie.”
“Ok.”
“I have to say, my sister and I never got along when we were growing up, so I never imagined raising her child.”
“I’m sixteen Mrs. O-Jamie. I’m already raised,” I snapped. She chose to ignore my comment and continued as if she had rehearsed it beforehand.
“I’d like for you to begin group therapy, for teens that have been through hard times,” She said coldly. It angered me.
“Hard times?” I shouted. “You call what I’ve been through hard times?” I threw down my fork with a bang and shoved my plate of half-eaten eggs towards her.
“And I don’t like eggs.” I added, stomping off in a huff. Crawling into bed, I curled up with a pillow and realized that I really was all alone.
**********
The car turned onto a curvy road as it began to rain again. The word rain didn’t really justify the huge drops of water the heavens were crying on this day. It was pouring.
“Well, looks like the rain isn’t over after all,” her father commented. She didn’t like the quivering sound of his voice, and the apprehensive look on her mother’s face didn’t help much either. Her brother began to cry, distracting her father even more and he began to swerve into the other lane as her mother reached back to give Gabriel his pacifier. She heard tires screeching, like nails on a chalk board. Their car jerked back into the correct lane, but something was wrong. Her father had over corrected, and now they were rolling. Once, twice, three times, four. Finally, the car came to a stop.
***********
I didn’t know what I was doing there. Why had I agreed to come to this stupid group therapy thing anyway? I thought as I sat there. I hated the looks of pity. The leader of the group, Dr. Snyder, was tall with short blond hair. He had an educated look about him. He stood to talk.
“Okay everyone; we have a new member joining us. Lina, would you please introduce yourself to us?” I stood, taking a deep breath. I didn’t want to be there.
“I’m Lina, and my family died six months ago.” I sat down, staring at me feet so I would avoid the looks of pity.
“Is there anyone who would like to share something with Lina?”
“I would.” I looked up to see a short, black haired girl, waving her hand in the air.
“Hi, I’m Hannah. I wanted to say you can always talk to me when you need someone to listen. I’ve been told I’m a good listener. I think I am.” She smiled, then sat. I was shocked. Why would anyone want to talk to me, when they didn’t even know me?
**********
I was headed out the door after the group session when I heard someone call out my name.
“Hey Lina,” I turned around to find Hannah’s dark blue eyes staring at me.
“What?” I immediately regretted the bitterness in my voice.
“Oh, well, I just wanted you to know that I really meant what I said earlier. I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“Ok, thanks.” I nodded, then turned around and walked away.
“So how did it go?” Jamie asked as I walked in the door of the house. I walked up to my room, pretending to have not heard her. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t need her cold cruel input. Sitting on the bed, I stared out the window. What were my options now? I didn’t have anyone to turn to. I couldn’t go back to school. What had happened to my friends? Why hadn’t they come to visit me while I was in the hospital?
**********
She awoke, wondering what had happened. Slowly, she remembered. The screeching of tires, the crying skies, the rolling and rolling, the screaming, and then, silence. The silence was frightening.
“Mom?” Nothing.
“Dad?” Nothing but the hissing of the mangled car.
“Gabe?” Nothing.
She couldn’t see anything. Just the roof of the car. Things were thrown around her. Her face felt as if it had shards of glass embedded in it, and she couldn’t feel her left hand.
**********
“Today, I’m going to partner you up and have you share with each other. It’s important that you share your story. Getting it all out there can help you tremendously.” The thought of sharing my story with someone scared the shit out of me, but sharing it with someone my age seemed worse. Dr. Snyder stood, looking around for who he would pair with whom.
“Jake, you go with Mitchell.”
“Grace, you can go with Kathleen.”
“And-” He looked around the group of eagerly waiting faces.
“Lina, you can partner with Hannah.”
He sent each pair to a room. The room we were in was tiny, the size of a small bathroom, not unlike my bathroom back at the house. Two wire chairs had been set up to face each other. Hannah sat first, and I followed, sitting opposite her.
“So .....” She started.
“So.”
“I guess I’ll go first.”
“Ok.” I said, very grateful I didn’t have to go first.
“I’m sixteen,” she paused, “and I watched my best friend Emmy die.” She took a deep breath and continued.
“It was a year ago, and it was a few days before summer break. We were sitting together in the cafeteria eating a late breakfast. We had both been in a student council meeting, so we didn’t get to eat with everyone else.
“You would have loved her. She was smart, funny, popular, but she was sweet to everyone she met.”
“What happened to her?”
“We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. A kid, Jason was his name, had been bullied all year. I never noticed it, but looking back now I remember seeing it. I wish I had stopped the bullying. She might still be alive.” She sighed, staring off into space.
“Oh well. Nothing anyone can do about it now. It’s in the past. Anyway, Jason had finally had it that day. When someone said something to him, he just went crazy. Bullets were flying everywhere. Emmy was hit in the head; she never stood a chance. The last thing she said to me was that she loved me like a sister.” Hannah wiped away a tear that had found its way down her cheek.
“So, what about you?” She asked after recovering.
“I’m sixteen also.” She nodded for me to continue. “And I killed my family.” I looked up at her face expecting to see horror, instead I saw curiosity.
“What happened?”
“It was raining. I insisted on going out. I mean, I just begged and begged until they finally gave in. It stopped raining when we were pulling out of the driveway. My brother, Gabe, was with us. We thought we were lucky since the rain had stopped. We were driving on a curvy road when the rain started again. It was pouring so hard, we couldn’t see anything. My brother started crying and distracted my dad. He drove into the other lane. When he swerved to avoid a collision, we started tumbling down the hill. I thought it would never end.” I paused, looking down to see that Hannah had taken my left hand to give me support.
“Nobody else made it out of that car alive,” I whispered. “My dad was a politician, so all of his political friends came to visit me in the hospital for the first couple days of the week. After that, people stopped coming. I felt so abandoned. Of my friends, not one ever came to visit me.”
“Then they weren’t really your friends, Lina. True friends would never do that. They’d always be there for you, no matter what.” I nodded.
“Wait-” She asked. “Where did you want to go so badly?”
“Guitar,” I croaked. “I wanted to go to band practice. I used to be the best guitar player. I loved playing. Now I’m so lost.”
“Why can’t you-” I cut her off, showing her where my right hand had been.
“ I don’t understand why this all happened to me. I never did anything to deserve this,” I sobbed.
“Lina, we don’t often understand why things happen, but we’re all here for a reason. I’m not religious, but I believe we all have a purpose. And there is definitely a reason you’re still here. You just haven’t found it yet.”
“But, it’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not. It was an accident. You didn’t cause this.”
“But-”
“No buts. This was not your fault.” Hearing it from her, I was beginning to believe it. Maybe it hadn’t been my fault after all. It was an accident.
“Lina, I’ve been to hell and back, but I wouldn’t change anything. It made me the person I am today. It’s all in the past. You can’t change the past no matter how hard you try.”
I just don’t know where to go from here. I mean, my only family now is my aunt. And she hates me.”
“You’re going to get through this. I know you will. I use to think just like you are right now.”
“How did you get better?”
“I asked for help.” She smiled.
“But I don’t have any friends to ask for help.”
“God, Lina, What am I?” she asked, with a look of incomprehension on her face.
“What?” I asked completely oblivious.
“I’m your friend! I’m here! In fact, why don’t we go get something to eat?”
“I haven’t been out in months!”
“All the more reason to get out!” She said, grabbing my arm, pulling me up from my chair.
“But, I’ve got this awful scar. I don’t want to see pity.”
“Scars are not a sign of weakness. Scars show how strong and tough you are.”
“Really?” I had never thought of it that way.
“Really! So what about it? Want to get some food?”
“Yeah.”
**********
Walking out of the diner with Hannah, I looked up at the sky. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and a warm breeze was blowing softly. I stood there thinking. I was glad my aunt made me go to group sessions. They opened my eyes. I’d be ok. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even in a year. But someday, I would be ok. And I was sure that, with a little help, I’d get through it. I could get through anything with a little help from my friends.
