Below is the second page to the story, or, well its more like a page and a half. Starting tomorrow, you’ll get only 1 page. Enjoy:
It’s been one month since dad’s death. Life seems to be moving so slowly for my family, if it’s moving at all. Mom gets out of bed and goes through the motions, but she’s not really there. My sister no longer talks. She cries at night, alone in bed, where mom can’t see her. The fog I’ve felt since that night has not lifted. I’m in a constant state of misery, watching the rest of my family fall apart at the passing of our patriarch. What’s worse, it’s as if Mother Nature knows my pain and wets the world with its tears every time my cheeks are wet with mine.
I feel as if we have all collapsed within ourselves, dealing with our pain alone; instead of relying on each other to heal. I want to help my mom and sister. I want them to be whole again, but every thought I have to help seems to fade away and fall apart. Nothing seems to be enough for them; nothing short of dad coming back and things being exactly the same.
Mom takes Maisie to school every morning and picks her up every afternoon and still takes her to all of her extracurricular activities, ignoring Maisie’s silent protests. Mom is, again, going through the motions of what was our normal life; although nothing is moving forward with her. In three months I’ll be sixteen and will be getting my driver’s license, gaining some freedom and able to assist mom with the driving; but I still have three months and Mother Nature seems so focused on how I feel, she sorts the weather accordingly. I have cursed her and all her minions since his passing, as it has rained nonstop and I still have to walk to school every day.
Showing up to school day in and day out, dripping water from head to toe, despite the new rain clothes mom has purchased for me, is a nuisance. I have taken to wearing sweats and a sweatshirt for the walk and bringing real clothes to change into after I get there. Since I have P.E. first period, it’s really convenient for me but showing up wet is still not fun. It just accentuates the awkward student I have become. Once popular, I am now the outcast. I alienated my friends in my grief and they eventually all just gave up on me. One month, and they’re all gone, all except for Micka. She does her best every day to make me smile; and covers for me every morning that I’m late for school.
My school was built in the early nineteen-hundreds. There are old, black-iron gates at the front, which stand at least twenty feet tall. Think the entrance to a haunted house from your typical horror movie. As I approached the entrance, on time for once, thunder boomed over my head. I looked up, only to have rain water drip into my eyes and onto my face from my oversized hood. I sent a curse up to the heavens, then quickly apologized, feeling guilty for doing so.
I pleaded with God instead. “Please just let the rain stop for once, let today be a better day for me.”
I proceeded through the gates and immediately jumped out of my skin as Micka threw her arm over my shoulder from behind, screaming a salutation into my ear that was lost to the continuing thunder.
“What?” I shouted, turning my head towards her. She had her dark hair under a scarf that was tied at her neck. She had a closed umbrella in her hand, but she definitely needed it as you could clearly see water dripping from the tip of her nose. She was laughing as usual. Her smooth milk chocolate skin a dark contrast to her perfectly white smile. Her clothes were immaculate; as usual, bright and bold and beautiful, just like her personality. All that was missing from her fifties Hollywood style were the giant sunglasses. Unfortunately it wasn’t bright enough for those today.
“I said, hello there bestie. How are you feeling today? Are you not loving this weather” She shouted at me as she danced a circle in front of me in a puddle, splashing water up her legs and onto mine. I smiled at her, half-heartedly and continued walking into the building. I personally wanted to see the sun again. She caught up and linked her arm into mine.
“You’re crazy, do you know that? But I am thankful for it.” I gave her a side hug as we headed towards the locker room.
“You used to be too. We need to work on getting the old you back. I say we start with the dance coming next month; you absolutely have to go to junior prom Rose. And I know you think you’re all weird and awkward now, but it’s not true, and I notice many boys taking interest.” She took her scarf off, shaking her head, flinging the beads of water from her short afro-style hair into my face.
I opened the locker-room door, turning towards her. “Thanks, as if I didn’t get a good enough shower from the walk here.” She laughed at me. “I’ll consider the dance, just not totally sure I’m up for it yet.” What I wanted was to find a way to make mom and Maisie better. If I could heal them, I’m sure I’d heal myself in the process.
Micka tossed a hand in the air, waiving me off as she pranced into the locker room to change. I smiled, genuinely, because I knew she’d find a way to talk me into going, and I’d go no matter how begrudgingly. ///