Chapter One
I'd been staying with my best friend, Tara, for the past week. My parents decided to go to Paris for the week of spring break to celebrate their anniversary. I thought that was really romantic, so I actually didn't mind them leaving me behind. I was pretty excited to spend the week at Tara's house, so it's not like I would've put up a fight about them leaving anyway. It was really fun to be able to stay with her for that long, with all of the staying up late watching movies, eating popcorn, and just having fun in general. Tara and her mom were so welcoming to me and always had fun things to do at their house, so I was having a blast. Spring break had to be the best time of the year, especially with my parents gone and not supervising. Tara's mom was the cool kind of parent, that was only not fun when absolutely necessary.
The night before I was supposed to go back home, Tara and I were playing a game of poker, while her mother watched the news. We weren't allowed to bet real money, since her mother didn't want to encourage gambling in her house, so we bet skittles instead. Since I held the majority of the sugary candies, we decided to finish up after that round. We didn't feel like going to bed yet, but had no idea what else we could do to keep ourselves occupied, since the TV was in use. Lucy, Tara's mom, said we should head off to bed anyway, so we'd get back into our old sleeping habits when school started again. There's the uncool side, I thought to myself. We whined, complained, begged, and thought of excuse after excuse to stay up just a little while longer. She allowed us to stay up for another half hour, but only on the condition that we'd watch the news with her. Boring. We hated the news, but decided we might as well watch since it was the only thing between us and going to bed. We didn't even really have to watch; just pretend to.
We didn't really watch the news, as I figured would happen. We just sat there talking about whatever came to our minds. We spoke of anything from boys to the English essay assigned over spring break by Ms. Marshall, the teacher that no one likes. Every once in a while, we would actually glance up and see what the news anchor was talking about, but nothing interesting-- robberies, marijuana sales, and even a plane that went down in the middle of the ocean. We were too tired to be interested in any of those things, no matter how interesting they were.
When we finally ran out of things to talk about, we trudged off to bed. Tara's bedroom had bunk beds, since she and her older sister who had moved out recently used to share a bedroom. I stayed in the top bunk, while she stayed in the bottom. That's how it always was when we had sleepovers. Since I was there almost every weekend, Tara and Lucy liked to joke that it might as well just be my bed. Once we were in bed, we didn't talk much, since we had ran out of conversation topics a while before. We fell to sleep almost immediately after our heads hit the pillows, which was good considering the amount of sleep we had lost during the past week. Between the games, fun conversations, movies, TV, and so much more, we had barely managed a full night's sleep over the course of a week.
The next morning, I woke up around 7 in the morning, even though I had stayed up until around 1. I was so excited that my parents would be coming back from their anniversary vacation that I couldn't imagine sleeping in, even with the complete lack of sleep in recent nights. By 9 in the morning, Lucy, and a terribly tired Tara, were driving me through the neighborhoods to my own home. I wanted to show up early, to make sure I got there before they did. They might have left their hotel early, so I wanted to be absolutely sure that I was there first.
My parents told me they'd arrive home right around noon. Their flight actually landed the day before, but they planned in advance to stay in a hotel that night, naturally assuming that it would be a very long day for them. They were driving in from New York, which is a several hour drive all the way to New Jersey. They couldn't possibly have driven home after their flight landed in the late afternoon. I was too excited to even wait for their arrival, so I tried desperately to distract myself from the situation by watching TV. That didn't help at all. My stomach was churning at the thought of seeing my parents for the first time in a week.
As much as no teen would want to admit it, I was actually starting to miss my parents. My father and I were very close, so I especially missed him. As a child, my father stayed home with me while my mom worked, so we had quite a bit of bonding time. I'd give him such a tight hug once he got home. I'd never been away from my dad or mom for more than two days, so as much fun as I'd been having, I couldn't wait for it to all be over.
By 12 o'clock in the afternoon, I was totally anxious. Any minute, I thought. They'll be home any minute. I continued to think it would be any minute for another hour and a half. When I looked up at the clock and it said 1:30, I figured that they had accidentally slept in late. 2 more excruciatingly long hours, and they still hadn't arrived home. It had to be traffic. What else could it be? They were driving from New York, which is an extremely busy city, especially at the end of spring break, when everyone was coming back from their vacations. They probably didn't take into account all the traffic on the highways and at the airport when they gave me a time estimate. Soon, though, they'd be home, and I'd be happy.
At 5 in the afternoon, it finally occurred to me that maybe they had told me they would stay in hotels two nights after they arrived back in America, rather than one. I assumed I must've misheard them when they were telling me everything. At this point, I stopped waiting for them, now thinking they'd be home the next afternoon. I didn't mind one bit, since it meant I got to have the house to myself for a day.
I went into the kitchen to find the grocery money jar. We kept it in case there was an urgent need for groceries or food of some sort, when there was none in the house. It's a good thing, too. I took out a twenty dollar bill, and ordered a pizza. My mother would never approve of the use of the money if she were here, but she couldn't really stop me, either. When I called the pizzeria, I already had my exact order in mind: a medium cheese and olive pizza with stuffed crust. That's what I got every single time. It's the only kind of pizza I could stand at all. The person taking my order had repeated it back to me to confirm it, and told me the it would be here in 45 minutes.
After waiting for my pizza for only 30 minutes, there was a knock at the front door. I jumped off the couch, and took the cash out of my pocket as I opened the door. Ready to pay, I said “So how much will that be?” I looked up, gasping at my mistake. I saw a glum looking police officer standing where the pizza delivery boy should have been. He looked at me, and said nothing.
After the uniformed man stood there in silence for about a minute, he said, “Are you Michelle MacDonald?” I was confused by what he had said to me. Why was he looking for me? I hadn't broken a single law in my life. I was nervous, thinking maybe someone had stolen my identity or something and framed me for a law-breaking act.
“Uh... depends.... Why are you asking?” I spoke slowly and cautiously. For all I knew, he could've been a stalker or something who had stolen an officer's uniform. I knew how to be safe, even with cops.
“There was a flight that went down in the ocean yesterday afternoon.” He paused, not knowing how to word what he had to say next. He cringed as he spoke again. “Your parents were on that flight. Their bodies were just found and identified...” He trailed off. The officer gave me a sympathetic look, while I just stared at him. I hadn't really processed what he just said to me. It took me a minute before I even realized that he just told me my parents were dead. At first I was shocked. I couldn't think of anything at all, and didn't know what to say. Then it all came at me; the tears, the mental images, the scariness of being alone.
“Your mother was found dead, but your father was still alive when he was found... He actually still is. He's in the hospital, in a coma. He doesn't seem to have more than a few hours, since he was in the middle of the ocean for so long. We honestly don't know how he survived. I'm so sorry.” I nodded as he walked back to his squad car and fell to the ground, tears dripping from my face.
Neighbors came out of their houses to see what all the commotion was, but were too afraid to approach me. Finally my next door neighbor, Mrs. Jones, came up to me and asked what was wrong. I explained to her, and she was also in tears, hugging me tightly.
After a few minutes of us sitting on my front porch crying together, she offered to drive me to the hospital in which my father was being held at. I said yes the moment she offered, and jumped into her car with her.
The drive to the hospital was long and uncomfortable. After a little while of sitting in total silence, you could tell she was getting anxious about taking me to see my father. She tried chatting with me about various random subjects, but I was too traumatized to talk, which I told her. I wanted nothing more than to just arrive at the hospital and see my father, but the drive there took a few hours. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to see my dad, though. The thought of seeing my father dying, or maybe even dead by the time I got there, scared me to the point that my teeth were chattering.
The moment we pulled into the hospital parking lot, my heart just about stopped. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. Being there meant that the plane crash really did happen, that my mother was really dead, and that my father would be soon.
I walked into the hospital slowly and nervously. I honestly didn't know what to expect when I saw my dad. I didn't know how I was gonna react, or if I'd react at all. The whole line of events was something I never could have expected or seen coming. This is the kind of thing that makes me so incredibly sad, I couldn't even read it in a in book, and now I'm living it.
I walked to the front desk, and asked where my father was being held. They gave me a room number, and I was almost afraid to go looking for where it was. Once I got to his room, I froze. As I stood outside the door, I was afraid of what I might see, and pondered what my life would be like once he was gone.. I took in a deep breathe, and walked in. He was hooked up to all sorts of machines and what I could only assume was a life supporter. He was basically a vegetable, and probably wouldn't even hear any of what I was about to tell him, but it was worth a try to have last words to him anyway.
“Dad... You can't leave me here,” I whispered through a quiet wail. I held one of his hands, and laid my head on his chest. “Don't leave me here!” I was screaming now, afraid to be all alone. I had just lost my mother, and I had essentially lost my father, too. It was the scariest, saddest thing that anyone could go through, and I, an already troubled teenager, had to go through this. It was just too much for me to handle.
I collapsed half on the ground, half on top of my father's nearly lifeless body, barely able to control myself. I was kicking and screaming like a 4 year old at this point. I was gasping for air through the long, terrifying cries coming from me. Nurses came to my side, helped me up, and tried to comfort me. They had to be idiots if they thought ANYTHING could comfort me at this time. I was too tired from the screaming to push them away, even though they weren't helping at all.
Crying into a nurses arm is the last thing I could remember about that night. The worst night of my life. The next morning, I woke up to find myself in my father's room, but my father wasn't there anymore. He must've been transferred sometime in the night... to the morgue.
He's really gone. I remembered all the events of the previous day, and let out a quiet whimper. I had been his little girl, and he had been my daddy. Even at 15 years old, I would always remember when he used to tuck me in at night and read me stories. I'd never missed those times so much.
I was hoping it had all just been a bad dream, but when I closed my eyes and reopened them, the hospital was still around me, and the aura of death could still be sensed. I was sadder than I ever expected death could make a person. I'd never had such horrible emotions, and my emotions had never affected me this much.
I walked out of the empty hospital room, and saw my grandpa sitting in the waiting room. He didn't look remotely sad, which upset me terribly. His daughter and son-in-law just died, and he didn't seem to care one bit. I walked to him, and he glanced up when I was standing right in front of him.
“I'm so sorry for your loss,” he said calmly. He looked back down at the magazine he had been staring at moments before. I was angry.
“Your loss? How can you say that?” My teeth were gritted in an angry rage as I spoke. “You just lost your daughter and son-in-law, and it's my loss? Just how little did you care about them?” I was screaming and bringing attention to myself once again. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “How on earth can you just sit there reading your stupid magazine when my parents, your daughter and her husband just died? This isn't my loss, this is our loss, and you need to realize that!” I was crying once again, unable to control it at all.
I didn't care at all who saw me cry, because after going through what I just had to deal with, I had every right to cry about it. My grandpa didn't try to stop me from crying, or complain to me that I was drawing attention to us. He didn't even notice. He just sat there reading his article on male baldness, while I was breaking down on the waiting room floor, bawling. At that moment, I hated that man more than I'd ever hated anyone in my life.
* * *
Since both of my parents passed away, I had to be the legal responsibility of someone. My grandpa was the closest living relative, so the torch was passed to him. I could see it in his eyes that he showed no interest in taking me in, but always trying to boost his reputation, he did anyway. Saving the day for a lost, hopeless 15 year old girl. Perfect way for everyone to like him. It all disgusted me.
I sat in my new bedroom at my grandfather's house, all alone. I'd been there three days, and he hadn't said more than “pass the corn” to me. How could he ignore a child he's responsible for? How could he be so selfish and care about no one but himself? How could he-- I interrupted myself mid-thought. I'm getting out of here.
I grabbed my backpack from my closet and took all of my school things out of it. I hadn't even unpacked all of my things that I had brought over from my parents' house. I started taking things out of the suitcase, shoving them into my backpack, but leaving plenty of room for food. After I had put in a few days worth of clothes, I walked out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. My grandpa was in the den watching TV, so he wouldn't even notice me taking food and leaving. I packed a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a couple of apples, and a thermos full of hot soup for when there was a cold night.
As soon as my backpack was comfortable full, I walked out. Out of that house, out of that life, and more importantly, out of that nightmare. I didn't know where I was going to go, but even living out on the streets being pitied by strangers would be better than living in your own “home” not even being pitied by your guardian. I'd seen homeless people on the streets, even teens, and they all got by with the help and kindness of strangers; I could do the same.
I began walking down the deserted suburban street, without a destination or goal. Will he even notice me gone? I couldn't help but almost feel bad about what I was doing. I was leaving, with no intention of ever coming back.
I reached an intersection, and turned. This is a part of Jersey I'd never been to, so I didn't know my way around. I was hoping that God would bring me to wherever it is that I needed to go. I walked on and on, each step lasting an eternity. It got to a point where I had to use all my will to even lift my foot and move one pace forward.
I'd been gone for a total of nine hours by the time I finally decided to stop walking. I wasn't even sure if I was still in the same state, let alone the same town. I plopped down on a bench on the side of a moonlit road,putting my feet up on the bench to rest them. I must've fallen asleep on that bench, because I remember being woken up by a youngish looking man, near dawn.
“Come with me,” he spoke softly as he held out a hand to help me up. I was too tired to ask why, or who he was, so I simply followed him.
We walked for a few minutes, which was hard on my still aching legs. After we turned a few streets, we reached our destination. I had no idea where we were, but I went inside the small building with him anyway. My gut told me this guy was trying to help me.
“We have a new guest,” he said to a middle aged woman once we got inside. “Make the necessary preparations.” He turned back to me, and motioned for me to sit in a chair in what seemed to be a lobby of some sort. I sat down, resting my feet once again, feeling so relieved to be able to rest some more.
He man left me to myself in the strange place, and walked through a door marked PRIVATE. I was still too tired to wonder where I was or what I was doing here, but curiosity was starting to creep up on me. I fell asleep wondering and dreaming about what might be behind the gold lettering on the PRIVATE door.
I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I found myself in what seemed to me like a hotel suite. There must've been ten other twin sized beds in there. All but the one I was in and one other were empty. I was finally starting to get freaked out by what was happening, and I was worrying about what might happen happen next.
I pushed my dark brown hair away from my face, so I could look around clearly. Not knowing what to do, I crept over to the girl in the other bed. I slowly reached a hand forward, and tapped her on the shoulder. Before I could withdraw my arm, she screamed, got a hold of my arm and twisted it. She stopped screaming once she saw what she had done, and saw what pain I was in.
“I'm so sorry,” she said in a sad tone of voice. “Last time someone tapped me on the shoulder to wake me up, it was to...” She didn't finish her sentence, because she was almost to the point of tears thinking about it.
“It's okay. Is there anyone here that can take a look at my arm? It's hurting really bad, so I think something's wrong with it.” I was trying to avoid her eyes as I spoke to her, afraid of what I'd see in them. I held my arm close to me, almost for fear that she would attack me again.
She saw my holding my arm defensively and said, “I really am sorry. It's just an instinct for me to react when woken up like that.” She stopped talking for a moment, almost as if she was stuck in a nightmare. “Roberta, our nurse, can look at that. She's really good with treating people and being gentle. I think you'll like her.” She cracked a small, guilty smile.
The girl led me through the door from the suite, and into a long narrow hallway filled with doors. Near the end of the hallway, we reached a stairway, which we walked down slowly; it was too steep to rush down. We walked back into the room that looked like a lobby, and into the room labeled PRIVATE.
“Are we allowed in here?” I asked in almost a whisper, afraid of getting caught if we weren't supposed to be there. I cringed, as I saw the man from before walking toward us.
“Hi, James!” she said happily. “So this is the new one?” she asked, turning to me. He nodded to her, with a cheery smile on his face. “Well we're looking for Roberta. It seems our friend here had a little mishap this morning, and she needs her arm checked out.”
“That's not true! The 'little mishap' she's referring to is when she practically broke my arm by twisting it almost all the way around!” I said loudly and angrily. I was glaring at both of the strangers, waiting for a response.
“Emma, you know better than to hurt people like that, and you definitely know better than to lie about it,” James said, the smile no longer on his face. “And as for you,” he turned to me, “I will take you to Roberta. She'll be extra careful, so there's no need to worry.”
I was once again being led through the building, but the walk to the nurse's office was much shorter. As we walked, James said to me, “I have formally introduced myself. I'm James, but most people call my Jimmy.” He held out his hand politely. I shook his hand, and he continued talking. “This is a program from troubled teens without homes. I myself used to be in that situation, so the moment I turned 18, I volunteered for this program. I wanted to help the people affected by the crap in their lives.” He paused, thinking of what to say next. “The program still has kinks, so we don't expect your life to change right away, but we're hoping to help you get through things.”
I thought about all of what he had just told me, and finally decided to say, “So you're only 18?”
“Yeah. A lot of people think I'm older because of the suit and tie, but that's mainly for show.” He winked at me, and grinned innocently.
“We have some counselors to talk to the teens in this program, and if you decide you'd like to stay, you would be in Mimi's counseling group,” he explained. “There is one thing you must realize about this program, though. We're breaking some laws.” He paused once again. “If a minor is reported missing and we find you, we're supposed to bring you to the police. But we want to help these teens before we send them back to their hard lives. So what we do is we make everyone fake Ids, so if we're ever caught, we can pretend to be oblivious to the whole missing child thing and continue to help more troubled teenagers like yourself.”
I stared at him. He really was like me. Willing to go to any lengths to make the suffering go away, even if it wasn't his own suffering. I remained silent, expecting there to be more for him to explain to me.
“On the outside, it's a privately owned and operated youth center. On the inside, we're exactly what I just explained to you. What do you say, are you in?” He had a hopeful look on his face, knowing that if I said no, I could easily turn him into the police because of all the information he just gave me. I didn't want to do that though, because then he wouldn't be able to help me. I needed the help.
“Yeah, I'm in.”
We were standing right outside Roberta's office by this point. James opened the door for me, and I walked inside. I saw a very slim girl sitting in there reading a book, and I smiled.
“Hi, I'm looking for Roberta. My arm is kinda messed up, and I need it checked out.” I cringed, thinking back to when it happened and how much more pain I had been in just minutes before.
“That would be me. I'm the nurse at this facility, and with rough teenagers here, I can almost guarantee we'll be seeing each other quite often,” she smiled, and held out her hand. Realizing that I couldn't shake her hand with that arm, she quickly pulled her hand back. I hadn't realized that the nurse would be so young. Maybe they found a medical school intern to work here, so she could be closer to the ages of the teens?
She gently lifted up my arm, looking it over carefully. After a few minutes of examining it, she said, “Well there appears to be no physical damage, but I suggest trying to use this arm as little as possible. It'll be sore for a few days, but then you should be just fine!” She laughed merrily. She was one of those people that is naturally happy no matter what the reason. Roberta smiled and let me out of the nursing office.
To my surprise, James was still right outside the room, waiting for me. I smiled kindly, and walked past him.
“How's your arm?” he asked worriedly. “I hope Emma didn't hurt you too bad. This isn't the first time something like this involving her has happened.” He shrugged at me and looked at me, waiting for a response.
I stopped and turned around to look at him. “My arm is fine. Just a little sore. Roberta said I should avoid using it for the next few days, until it stops hurting.”
“Great! I guess I should show you where the lunch hall is, before all the lunch is gone.” He had a certain sparkle in his eye that made him completely likable. Or maybe it was the fact that he was like me. Whatever it was that made me like him didn't really matter. The only that to matter is that I liked him. A lot.
I followed him into a cafeteria full of food. It was like a buffet. Well, I guess it wasn't really like one. It was one. I guess I won't be needing that cheap food in my backpack, I thought to myself with a little chuckle. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't seen my backpack since I was on the bench the night before. Oh well, I didn't really need it anyway, right?
I walked over to where the plates were on a large table, and picked one up, along with a fork. I grabbed a banana, a piece of fried chicken, some macaroni and cheese, and Jell-O. I sat down at a deserted lunch table, and began pushing my food around on my plate with my fork. There were only about 50 people total in the program, and not all of them were in the lunch room, so there were quite a few empty table. I made sure to sit down away from where everyone was, because for the time being, I was an outcast.
I took a bite of my macaroni, and was pleasantly surprised. I expected it to be like the kind you'd get in a school lunch, but this stuff was actually good! I could immediately tell it had been baked in the oven. After that, I realized how hungry I was, and ate the rest of what was on my plate rather quickly. I was very satisfied with my first complete meal since my parents' death. Just thinking about their deaths made me feel sick to my stomach, so I hadn't eaten much at all since that Night in the hospital.
I got up to put my plate with the rest of the dirty dishes, and I bumped into the girl who I had made the mistake of waking up a little while before. “Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to hurry away from her before I got hurt again.
“Hey, don't run away from me! I keep telling you I'm sorry about what happened to your arm. Like I said, what I did was out of instinct because.... Nevermind that. Wanna hang out?” She seemed rather determined to become my friend. I really didn't want to say no to the only person that would even talk to me other than people that worked there.
“Yeah, sure. But where is there to hang out in this place?” I asked shyly.
“The rec room, of course! Do you really think there would be a place just for teens without a rec room?” She grinned as we walked to the cafeteria's exit. “You wanna get some water before we go play some games?” I nodded, and stopped at the drinking fountain to take a long drink.
I then followed Emma to where the rec room was, and my eyes grew wide at what I saw. It was a humongous room with a small dance floor with a disco ball, a basketball court, Fuzball and pool tables, arcade games, and so much more. It was a teen's paradise.
“What do you wanna do first?” I stared glossy eyed at the things that filled the place. “Hello?” She waved a hand in front of my face.
“Oh... Um, anything would be great! All of this stuff looks amazing!” I was actually excited about being there, forgetting all the problems that had been on my mind the past few days. Five days before, I had been a normal teen. Four days, and I had been a teen with a completely messed up life. After all that, I still managed to be happy and enjoy myself.
Chapter Two
I'd never played pool before in my entire life. I knew how, from seeing it on TV and stuff, but I'd never gotten the chance to play a game, since none of my friends could afford to have a pool table. Playing two on two with Emma and a couple of her friends was so much fun. We were in the middle of the second game, and we were winning by so much. I was staring at the table, trying to find the perfect angle to hit the cue ball from, and suddenly I saw a hand grab it off the table. I followed the arm with my eyes, only to see the cute black haired 18 year old that I had met earlier that day.
“James—uh, Jimmy. We're in the middle of a game. Do you mind?” I asked him politely, trying to avoid looking at his amazingly gorgeous features. I just knew I'd burst out giggling if I were to look straight at his face while speaking.
“Can I play?” he asked me flirtatiously. He was tossing the ball between his hands, while he waited for an answer. “I'm a killer pool player.” James gave me a sweet smile.
“Sorry,” I said, faking an apology, but at the same time, trying to hold back a grin. “We're already in the middle of a game, and we already have two fulls teams.” He put the ball back on the table, and shrugged as he began to walk away.
“Wait!” Jimmy turned around to see who had stopped him. “I'm getting kinda bored playing here, so you can take my place.” Emma smiled at him as she handed him her pool cue.
Before she had a chance to leave the recreation room, I whispered to her, “What are you doing?” I couldn't stand being alone with the green-eyed boy that I was beginning to develop a crush on.
“Oh, c'mon! James totally digs you, so go ahead and flirt a little with him! He'll be your's in no time!” The blonde girl shot me a cheery smile and walked off happily before I had the chance to argue.
I turned around to see Jimmy standing there waiting for me, his silky black hair falling in front of his eyes. I stopped myself from staring and said, “you better not ruin this game for me, because Emma and I have already been dominating this game.”
“You don't have to worry about it. As I said before, I'm great at pool.” Jimmy smirked and leaned forward. I was afraid he'd try to kiss me or something, and it would be too soon for that. Instead, he pushed my almost black hair away from my face.
“You know, you really should show those amazing blue eyes more often.” I didn't know what to think of the compliment, because having nice things said to me like that was a totally foreign thing to me.
I looked away from him, afraid of him seeing me blush, and got ready to take my shot in the game of pool. I concentrated on thrusting the long, wooden stick toward the cue ball, and the last two balls left needed to finish the game sunk into separate holes. I jumped in a moment of happiness, and gave Jimmy a high-five.
“You were great, Michelle!” he said, leaning in for a hug. “How much do you practice?”
“I've actually never played before!” I let out a small laugh as I said this. “Well I have, because this is my second game today... But never before today.” He joined me in laughter after this.
After a minute of just standing there laughing, I said, “How did you know my name?” I looked around awkwardly, trying to figure it out before he gave an answer. I was totally confused by this point.
“You told me when you first came here. Don't you remember?” He spoke as if he was confused, but I knew he wasn't, because he and I both knew that I never told him my name. It annoyed me that he was lying, and it made me continue to wonder how he knew my name.
“I never told you my name. I remember everything that happened since I came here, and I remember specifically not saying my name.” I didn't know how to react to all of this confusion. Did I tell him my name and simply forget? No, that couldn't be it. He had to be lying about me having told him my name.
“Okay... I admit, you never told me your name. I just didn't want you to know how I knew your name. I thought you might find it vaguely creepy, even though it's just routine.” He was twiddling his thumbs as he said this, and now he was the one avoiding eye contact.
“If it's just routine, then I know not to be creeped out. You can tell me how you knew now,” I said slowly, still very curious and impatient to find out.
“While you were asleep, the female volunteers changed your clothes. When I was going through them to find anything you might need before we threw your old clothes out, I saw it written on your underwear. I figured you would think it was weird and creepy for me to see your underwear, so I didn't want to mention it to you.” What he explained to me made sense, but he was right. If he hadn't explained it to me that way, I would have thought he was creepy, and probably never spoken to him again.
“That explains it... I guess,” I said to him, no longer confused. “Is it okay if I change the subject now?” I really didn't like how the conversation was going at the moment, so I wanted more than anything to talk about something else.
“Definitely. This conversation was getting a little weird for me, to be perfectly honest,” he said, as he scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah, me too...” I waited for a moment before I spoke again. “I was thinking about how you mentioned making fake IDs for all the teens your helping. When will I get mine?” I'd had a fake ID once before, but my parents found it and cut it up, so I was kinda happy to be getting a new one.
“Already done. While I was looking through your clothes, I found an ID in your wallet, and we used that to make you a new one.” He smiled, knowing that he had surprised me with this bit of information. I thought it was a very long process, since they weren't doing it the same way as it was done with my last fake ID. “Would you like me to bring you to Jane or Henry so you can pick it up?”
“Who are Jane and Henry?” I asked him. The day was going so fast, that I couldn't remember if those were people I had already been introduced to, or if they were totally new to me.
“Jane and Henry are the two people that started this little teen community. They are church people, and one day heard a reading about helping those in need. That's what gave them the idea to start this little place.” He was in total awe as he spoke of them, as if they were the only people he looked up to, which might very well be true. “They even celebrate their anniversary with the people here, rather than by themselves. They are the most selfless people you could ever meet.”
“Alright, I can't wait to meet them!” I said, happily. It touched my heart that there were people that care so much for others and so little for themselves. I guess you could say they make up for the other people, who only care about themselves but not anyone or anything else.
“I can't really take you to see them right now, though,” he said, looking slightly upset. “They have a rule that they are not to be disturbed before 4 PM on weekdays unless they've specifically stated otherwise on a particular day. They are very busy.”
“Oh, well that's okay. I guess while I wait for 4 PM to come around, I'll go find Emma,” I said, slightly disappointed to not be able to see the founders of this wonderful organization quite yet. I waved to him, he waved back, and we parted.
I took a while to find the room I'd been staying in with Emma, but once I found it, I jumped in excitedly. “Emma! Jimmy is the most amazing guy!” I said in a very giddy tone of voice. “I'm starting to get a crush on him, I guess.” I grinned, showing all of my teeth. The few other girls in the room stopped what they were doing, and stared at me.
“Look.... You can't just burst in the room saying stuff like that,” Emma started. “You gotta realize that James in an extremely attractive guy--” I cut her off.
“Believe me, I know that!” I said in a very giddy tone of voice.
“No, let me finish. He's a very attractive guy, which means you are definitely not the only girl here to like him. If anyone else finds out that not only you're interested in him, but actually have a chance with him, you won't make any more friends than me in this place. I'm telling you this for your own good. So keep this all quiet until if/when something starts to happen between you.” Emma was honestly trying to help me-- or else she wanted Jimmy for herself. The second possibility was doubtful, though. She seemed like too much of a nice girl to trick me like that.
I listened to her advice, and decided not to speak of Jimmy as more than a new friend, which was actually all he was. I was hoping that it would be more soon, but I couldn't really expect him to like me back. He was volunteer, and I was just a troubled teen. It's like him being a teacher and me being a student. There were probably rules about him having relationships with people in the program, anyway. It really disappointed me when this occurred to me, but I really couldn't complain. I hadn't even known the guy for an entire day. And there were other guys that were actually in the program that I could find.
Whatever I was gonna do, I would wait on. My main focus shouldn't have been on guys anyway, when I had so much stuff I had to deal with and fix in my life. I'd have to talk to Jimmy or Jane or Henry about when I could talk to the counselor. I needed to talk to someone desperately, and not just a friend; someone who could fully understand what I was going through, help me through it, and give me advice on what to do next in my life.
Thinking about talking to a counselor reminded me of what I had to talk to a counselor about: having a “guardian” that didn't even care about me in the slightest, having two recently dead parents, and having run away from home without thinking and probably being unable to return on my own.
I knew I had to face my drama once again sooner or later, but I really didn't want to because exactly what I was afraid of was happening. I was becoming sad, and on the verge of tears, once again. I had shed enough tears for an entire lifetime, and I knew that I wasn't even close to done crying over the recent events.
I, for once, didn't want to be seen crying, because the girls around me were my peers. I went into the bathroom connected to the large room with the beds and dressers, and locked the door. I sat down on the toilet, and let the tears come rolling down my cheeks. My eyes burned every time a new tear began forming, which was almost by the second.
I knew that the girls in the other room could surely hear me, so I tried to keep the volume of my cries to a minimum, but wasn't succeeding very well. I buried my face in my hands to try to stifle the sound a bit. The crying was giving me a pounding headache, the kind that makes you feel like your head is packed with dynamite; it could explode any minute.
All the memories of the night of my father's death were clear as day now. I could remember the exact details even better than when I was actually in the hospital experiencing them. I was once again with my ailing father, grasping his hand before he died, sobbing into his chest. Seeing him unmoving like that was the worst thing to ever go through. The memory of it all was killing me, and I wanted nothing more than to be with my father and mother once again.
I stopped my crying, and wiped my face with a tissue. I began to look for a razor to use in the mirror cabinet, and luckily for me, there was a full package of disposable razors in there. I could easily take one to slit my throat with, so I could be at an end of this dreadful life.
I guess Emma and the other girls had the same idea as me, because as soon as they stopped hearing the sound of my cries, they ran to the door to try to pick the lock. They knew something was going wrong. I needed to hurry up, before they could stop me. Before they could make me stay on this hellish planet.
I held the double edged razor to my throat, shaking. I wanted to badly to do it, to end it. Is the lack of emotional pain really worth the physical pain, I asked myself. I shuttered as I brought the sharp razor nearer to my flesh. More tears were sliding down my cheek. I put the razor down so I could wipe the fresh tears away. Before I had the chance to pick it back up, the door to the bathroom flew open, with a few girls falling forward. They must've slammed against it to get the lock to break, I thought to myself, after wondering how they might have gotten in.
Emma stared at me in horror, and then down at the razor sitting on the marble counter next to the sink. I stared right back. She was almost as scared as I was about what I had been about to do. She reached forward to grab the razor, to make sure I wouldn't make any sudden moves and kill myself then and there.
“How could you think about killing yourself?” she asked me, as a tear dropped from her eye to the bathroom floor. “You said you liked it here. How could you even think about doing something like killing yourself?”
I myself didn't know what I had been thinking when I held the razor up to my own throat. I didn't really wanna die; I just didn't want to face the sadness of everything. I sat down, trying to figure out how to respond to my friend.
“Everything was coming back to me... My parents died less than a week ago, and I just couldn't take it.” I looked down, not wanting to face their angry faces with my own guilty one. “I'm so sorry for scaring you guys like that. I'll try not to do it again.”
“Trying isn't good enough.” With that, Emma and all the others left me in the bathroom to wallow in self pity. They were absolutely right, and I knew it. I couldn't think like that. I needed serious help before the suicidal thoughts actually had a chance to take me away from this life. There wouldn't always be someone to stop me; this time I just happened to get lucky.
I got up off edge of the bathtub, and went into the bedroom. It was empty. I really must've scared them away, with all my being suicidal and all. I couldn't really blame them, though, for not wanting to be around me. I wouldn't want to be around me if I were them. I went over to my bed, and found my backpack sitting on top of it.
None of the things that had been in my backpack when I left my grandfather's home were in there; instead I found several new pairs of clothes with a diary sitting on the very top. I opened the diary to find one entry in there. It was the only page filled, and the words were memorable.
Writing out your feelings will help you
get over the ones that are hard to deal with.
This book may be the thing that saves your life.
Let your new friends be of help to you
and don't be afraid to let them close.
The people here are only here for one thing:
to make sure that your journey
to a better life begins.
From your new friends in
your new and improved life,
Henry and Jane
Chapter Three
“You'll be fine,” Jane assured me as we stood outside Mimi's counseling room. Being a “special case”, Jane felt the need to escort me to my first session personally. Was she afraid that I might try to commit suicide again, between my room and Mimi's? I honestly never wanted to go through what I had tried to do just hours before. Even so, I still needed someone to talk to, and hopefully Mimi would help.
“Okay. It's just that I've never really had therapy before, so I'm a little nervous,” I admitted to my current care-taker.
“Honey, don't think of it as therapy, just someone there to listen to every single word you have to say. Therapy is something you don't have a choice in, but this is something that you are doing for you and because of you.” Jane smiled down at me, ands knocked on the door.
The door was quickly opened by an elderly woman who must've been around 65 years old. “Come in,” she said with a smiling, showing her crooked teeth. She looked exactly what you'd expected the stereotypical witch to look like, and yet she looked to friendly and lovingly to me.
I walked into the room to see a very organized office with a sleeping area off to the side. There was a matching blue couch and arm chair, a beautiful wooden coffee table, and a smooth dark brown desk. It wasn't the bright couch or chair that was most memorable, or the beautifully carved desk or table. In the very back of the room, there was a rather large dart board. It had many holes in it from what I could only assume was darts. There were too many to count. Mimi noticed me looking at her dart board and said, “Do you wanna try?”
“Try what?” I said, pretending to be oblivious to what she was talking about.
“Darts, of course. I have that in here for a special reason, actually.” Her words came out softly and smoothly, and would be able to put anyone in a trance. “You try to hit the hard times in your life with darts. The darts hold them down, keep it all under control. It's to remind you that you can hold back from doing the things to ruin your life, just don't let those things get to you.”
I listened carefully to the wise words my counselor was telling me. “Thinking about it that way... It complicates it all for sure, but it makes me realize that I could help myself. I really don't need anyone but myself!” I was proud to have understood what she had just told me, and was smirking on the inside.
“Exactly, Karin!” she said to me, calling me by my new name. “It takes quite some time for most people to figure that one out. You're pretty bright.” she gave me another smile, this time not showing her odd teeth.
I was walking toward the dart board, and on my way I found a basket on the coffee table filled with darts. I picked one up, and faced the holey board. I threw it with ease, and it landed very near the the center.
“The closer it lands to the center, the more set you are on facing your problems instead of running away. That's very good.” I grinned upon hearing these words. I couldn't deny that Mimi had a special way with people. No matter what she said, the grace that she had in her and shared with anyone around could make you smile.
Not knowing what to do or say next, I blurted out, “Am I supposed to talk about my problems with you now?” Jane had told me that this was completely by choice, so if I wanted to walk out right now I could. The strange this is that I didn't want to at all. I wanted to stay in her graceful presence, and possibly have some of it rub off on me.
“If that's what you'd like to do, then yes.” She sat down in the blue armchair, crossing her legs.
“Here goes... My parents died less than a week ago. I was at my father's bedside when he died, but I was asleep. I never even got to really say goodbye. Yesterday, everything was all coming back to me, and I wanted nothing more than to be with my dad and mom.” I sighed, happy to finally be talking to someone about everything.
“How did you end up here?” she asked, now acting more serious. Mimi was no longer acting like my friend, but like someone who was responsible for me. Trying to take care of me, make sure I'm safe.
“I assume I got here the same way as everyone else in this place.” I paused. “I ran away from home. After my parents died, I was to live with my grandpa. He was emotionless, and didn't even care about me or my parents' death. I couldn't live with it anymore, so I just left.”
“I'd been walking wherever my feet would take me for about 9 hours. I fell asleep around 10 PM on a bus bench. I was woken up some hours later by Jimmy, who took me here.” I cringed as I remember the confusion going through my head as I walked along the dark streets with Jimmy.
“Well, that's an interesting story. Everyone here has a different reason for being here, and it seems like your's is the harshest,” Mimi said to me sympathetically. “Well, we gotta save some stuff for our next session, assuming you'll want to some again. Let's say goodbye for now.” She gave me a kind smile as she led me toward the door out of her office/room.
“Okay.... Until next time!” I said cheerily, exiting the odd room.
Thinking back to the events that had just happened, I remembered what Mimi told me about the darts. I kept whispering to myself, hold the bad stuff down, way down.
I had so many things going through my head, I didn't even notice when I was walking right into James. He was standing right in front of me, but I continued to walk. I bumped right into him, which caused me to fall on top of him. This feels nice, I thought to myself, when “I'm sorry,” is what I really said.
After a few moments of not moving at all, I remembered to get off of him to avoid feeling awkward with him. I'd hate to feel awkward with my new crush and authority figure. “Did I, uh, really say that out loud?” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don't wanna sound... weird.”
“You said you're sorry... what's weird about that?” he said, also letting out a nervous chuckle, with confusion mixed in, too. He looked at me awkwardly before I finally came up with a response to his question.
“Oh, oops, I thought I said something else... Must've been in my head, I guess,” I said quietly, hoping he didn't realize just how much I liked him as I spoke. I was nervous from having had physical contact with Jimmy, and tried not to let it show. I was a total nervous wreck, though, when it came to guys (especially cute ones), so I'm sure he could tell how anxious I was feeling.
“Ahh, I see. Well I have to get going now. I was on my way out when we bumped into each other,” he mentioned to me before he started walking away from me.
“Wait!” I said, sounding a little too jumpy. He paused and turned around to look at me. “Jane told me that no one's allowed to leave until they're ready for a permanent leave. Where are you going?” I raised an eyebrow suspiciously, wondering if he was maybe a double agent by working there. Where could he be going in such a rush? I was beginning to get a little bit scared by being around him.
He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “First of all, that rule only applies to the kids here. Sec--” I interrupted him.
“I am most definitely not a kid!” I said, really annoyed at the statement. “I turn 16 in two months! That barely even counts as a teen!” He rolled his eyes as I spoke, and I was beginning to regret having said anything at all. “Sorry. Please continue.”
“Second of all, I have something that I need to do today. It's not something I like to talk about much, but I'm visiting my mother's grave, if you must know.” The handsome young man was now looking down at the floor, suddenly appearing to be extremely sad. Knowing this bit of information, I felt guilty about having accused him of doing who knows what.
“I'm so sorry, I didn't know.” I looked at his face sympathetically before letting out a long sigh. “I feel really bad now, for questioning you. I was getting into your business when I should have just kept to myself... I'm sorry about your mom, too.”
“Yeah, I know you didn't know. Don't feel bad, you were just trying to be responsible, and that's good.” Jimmy let a small smile show on his face. “You know what?” His face lit up as he spoke again.
“What?” I questioned curiously.
“I'd love if I had some company. Would you like to come with me?” he asked sweetly, his smile growing as he looked down at my face. “I'm sure Jane and Henry won't mind you leaving as long as you're with me... and as long as they don't find out until after we get back.”
“Yeah, that would be awesome,” I spoke to him in a kind, but still guilty voice. We started walking toward the front door, when something unexpected happened: he held my hand. I can't say that I wasn't happy, because it made my day. No, it made my week. I was quite confused, though. Just a minute ago he had been calling me a kid, and now he was holding my hand? Maybe he just called me a kid to hide that he likes me...
We walked out the door hand in hand, both of us smiling. It was strange, considering the circumstances in which this all was happening.
Civilization. It seemed so odd now. After being in such a quiet, homey place, I hadn't been able to imagine what being back in a city was like. I was amazed by such the difference between where I had just been and where I stood that moment. I wasn't sure if I liked it or disliked it. The past couple of days that I had been in the home for teens had been the longest few days of my life. This was now a whole new world to me.
We walked on the sidewalk of the semi-busy street as cars rolled past us on the road beside us. Jimmy seemed to know his way around the place perfectly, which made sense since it was the town he lived in. I followed his lead as we continued to walk for a while, still holding his hand gracefully.
“Why exactly did you run away when you were a kid?” I asked curiously, then realizing I probably should have kept my mouth shut.
“When I was 8, my dad left my mom and me. When I was 11, my mom got remarried to this guy that seemed nice at the time. It was all good back then. By my 12th birthday, my step dad had beat the hell out of me a few times. I thought it was just a couple of times that he lost his temper than that it was okay. Well when I reached 14, it was a regular thing,” he paused, very upset by what he was telling me. He let go of my hand. Bad sign. “My mom knew he hurt me sometimes, but not to what extent. I told her all of it, trying to get her to leave him, taking us both far away from that horrid guy. She refused.” He wiped a tear away from his face.
“I'm so sorry... How did you end up here, though?” I asked, once again regretting the decision to open my big mouth.
“Once I couldn't take it anymore, I counted all my money. I didn't know how much I'd need, so I also took some from my mom and step dad. I had about $350 total in cash, and decided to hop on the first bus out of there. I had no idea where I was going, but it had to be far away, somewhere I couldn't be found.” Why did I have to bring it up? We were having a good time... “After I finally got tired of spending my days and nights on buses, I stopped. Ended up here, and Jane and Henry took me in. I was actually one of the first few in the program, and that's why I feel so strongly about being a part of it and helping other people that are in the same situation I was in.”
I didn't know what to think of all of this. He was such a nice, soft guy on the outside, I never would've guessed him to have such a rough life. I wasn't sure if i could like someone who has even more problems than me.
“Where exactly is the cemetery?” I asked, wanting to know when we'd get to his mother's grave, pay our respects, and go back. I was now feeling uncomfortable being around him, and wanted to go back as soon as possible.
“Now it's my turn to say I'm sorry. I lied, my mom isn't really dead. I just wanted an excuse to get out and be alone with you.” We were silent for a moment before he spoke again saying, “I guess it was a dumb idea, since you seem to be uninterested in me.” He let out a long heart wrenching sigh.
“I never said I wasn't interested in you. It's just that you have so many things going on in your life, I figured dating wouldn't be your first priority.” We stopped walking and I looked up at his face. “It would be a total lie if I told you I don't like you, because I do. A lot.”
“Would you like to get something to eat?” he asked. Another surprise. Jimmy definitely wasn't a predictable guy at all. Not knowing what else to do, I nodded vigorously.
I hadn't noticed this before, but I then realized that we were stopped right in front of a classy restaurant. He led me in the large double doors, and I giggled. I'd never actually been on a date before, even though I was almost 16. My parents were a bit over-protective, I always thought. I was amazed by how wonderful I felt on my first official date. We walked to the front counter in the counter and were greeted by a young waitress.
“Table for two?” she asked, and grinned at us.
“Yes,” we responded at the same time. We smiled at each other as the waitress led us to a small, round, empty table. We sat in the cushy chairs at the fancy tables as we were each handed a menu.
“Wow, this stuff is pretty expensive,” I said, looking at the prices of all the food. “Maybe we should have gone somewhere cheaper.” I looked once again at the prices listed next to each food item, and cringed. The few times I'd ever gone out to eat with my parents had been somewhere cheap, usually for fast food. Expensive food was an alien concept to me.
“We stopped in front of this place for a reason. It's expensive, but totally worth it. Beautiful dinner for a beautiful girl.” He made me smile at how charming he was. How on earth is he still single?
As if he had read my mind, he said, “I was still pretty young when I ran away from home. Never had a girlfriend. Having been with Jane and Henry all this time, I've never had a chance to date before. This is my first date, too.”
“It's a bit hard to believe someone like you has never had a girlfriend...” I spoke quietly, realizing how weird that might sound. I continued anyway. “You're really cute, you're nice, charming, and just awesome in every single way. I would've thought you'd have girls crawling all over you.”
“Nope. Never had a girlfriend in my entire life, but I'd love it if you'd be my first.” He smiled gently at me as he awaited a response from me. I knew what to say, but once again I couldn't manage to get the words out. I slowly moved my head up and down as I saw his smile grow. “Great!” James said a little bit loudly, causing other people to turn their heads.
“So, how did you know that I've never been on a date before?” I asked, remembering how he had said it was his first date too. The idea of him maybe being a stalker made me laugh a little bit, but I didn't let it show.
“You seemed just as nervous as me, or more. I could tell.” I wasn't really listening to the words he was saying, rather the voice he was saying the words with. He had an absolutely wonderful voice, so soft and gentle.
We started to look through the menus so we'd be ready when the waitress came back to take our orders. We both decided to get soup; I ordered the chicken soup, and he ordered cabbage soup.
* * *
We were walking home after a completely awkward but wonderful first date. I had a magnificent time, and didn't want for it to end. I actually didn't feel like going back to my paradise back at the home.
We walked back quietly, just holding hands. We didn't speak much at all; we were just enjoying each other's company. So this is what being in like is like. I was having one of the best days I'd ever had, which was pretty surprising considering the week I'd been having.
We reached the group home, and Jimmy opened the door for me to be polite and sweet. Right as I was about to walk through the doors, I feel someone jump on me, and then all I could see was darkness. I had what felt like a garbage bag over my head. That's gotta be dangerous. I struggled, but was being held tightly by two large, strong arms. Trying to escape was no use, but I continued to attempt to break free nonetheless.
My body's flails started coming slower and slower as I stopped being able to breathe because of the bag over my head. I was losing all consciousness as I was being shoved into the backseat of a car, not knowing where I was going or if I was even going to live.
