Breathe Again

Cool.

Bubbles.

Shadow.

BIG faces!

Fingers tap on glass.

LOUD!

Food flakes.

Yum!

Circle circle.

Wiggle swim wiggle.

Happy.

Drive

HOLY CRAP. HOLY CRAP. HOLY CRAP.

I can NOT have just failed my driver's licence test. It's impossible. Sherilyn passed her first time, and Sherilyn is an IDIOT.

I look over at the smug, barely-apologetic, and yet somewhat-afraid-of-me face of the driving instructor. He goes on and on about this and that formality, but all I can think about is how now I am going to have to tell my parents. How now I am still going to have to get rides from my parents. How my dad is going to walk over any second, beaming, trying to contain his excitement when he asks, so subtly, So- how did it go?".

You know, I think I'll like popping his bubble. My parents are to convinced that I'm perfect anyway. This will be a good way to show them that am NOT capable of everything. Maybe now they'll let me achieve things on my own time.

Wow. Did I really just think that? Am I THAT much a angsty teenager? Jeez. I need to get out more.

My driving instructor's voice breaks through my stream of thoughts, and I hear him say that I'll be able to re-take the test in two weeks.

"I can't." I say, "My permit expires today."

I could see his face fall, as if this had not been a part of his plan to fail me, since I believe he had decided to do that the second he got in the car. Immediately the inner schmoozer emerged, recognizing an opening in the enemy's defense. And I said, ever so sweetly-

"Well why don't we just take it again right now? You told me earlier that I was your last kid for the rest of the day..."

I could see him re-evaluate me. He was taken aback by my bold move. He fumbled the lame response of-

"Well, yes, true, but I have very important things to do. So sorry. Best of luck."

And that was it! As he got out of the car, and moved out of earshot, I allowed myself some choice curses before my dad approached.

Oh well. I was resigned by now. Time to break the news to the parentals.

"Heeeeey. Guess what! You get some more premo bonding time with your favorite illegal!"

Innocence

Kara, as she walked quickly over to the dishes station, felt suddenly something nagging at her subconscious. How strange it felt, to have some sudden awareness seep into her. She was in too much of a hurry to look and see what it was she had passed that had caught her attention, but she hoped it was what... who she thought it might be.

She couldn't turn and look yet. Not yet because her boss, Nick, was also subconsciously aware of her. Aware of everyone really. He was scary like that. He knew the second you were not working, and he would yell at you readily. Not the kind of loud-talking that often gets qualified as yelling, but ACTUAL yelling. He wasn't mean, in fact, most of the time, Kara really liked him as a boss. At least, she respected him. But currently, she didn't feel like chancing his wrath.

As she began to rush through the dishes, barely spending three seconds per dish, she chanced a look up from the suds and grimy water. Her suspicions were right. Jess was working on fries, dicing them a little too quickly to be safe, in the same way that she was barely preforming what could be qualified as washing. It made her happy to know that at the very moment that she had been walking past him, she was subconsciously aware of his presence. Even though he was ALWAYS on burgers, and never in the fry spot, today he was, and she had sensed him there immediately.

She couldn't help but smile as she splashed some sudsy water on her shirt accidentally. After all, she had KNOWN he was there, and it wasn't unlikely that he had noticed too, right? If she sensed him, he MUST have sensed her.

*

Jess smashed the potatoes in, one after another. Trying to remember the last head count he had heard for the amount of people in line. Usually six out of ten wanted fries, and he was pretty sure that, last he heard, there were twenty people in line, so that meant....

Suddenly he could feel someone watching him. As dumb as he felt, thinking that, he couldn't help but look away for a second. His eyes met Kara's. She smiled vaguely and went back to looking at the dish she was scrubbing. Weird, he thought, as he looked back at his job too. He remembered sort of... thinking about her a minute or two ago.

Jess really never thought about Kara. She was a relatively new hire, and pretty quiet. But now that he was thinking about it, he HAD had a lot of stressful run-ins with her. He was training to be a manager, and was getting close, but he obviously still made a lot of mistakes. And a lot of them seemed to be involving her. Just the other day he had accidentally given a costumer cash back from a credit-card purchase on one of Kara's orders. She was unendingly apologetic and nice, but it seemed like every mistake he made somehow involved her. He always messed up, and she always smiled.

Jess suddenly was struck with the fear that she might like him. He was then suddenly struck with the stupidity and narcissism of that fear. Just because she was nice, quiet, and smiled, did not mean that she has a crush on him! At least, he hoped she didn't. She was too young for him anyway.

He threw another potato into the dicer, smiling a little when the potato bits splattered him.

*

Kara saw, with a thrill of excitement, that Jess had smiled after looking at her. She was pretty sure she had a crush on him.

Heaven

I never realize how much I like my family until I've been away for a long time. There is a certain flavor to them, certainly an acquired taste, that can be bitter. But, like so many chocolates, it's a bitter that, after a long time without it, you long for.

There are, of course, the relatives who can't stand each other, and the ones you wish you could spend all your time with. Passive aggression goes without saying, in as many forms as can be thought of. And then there are the parents with the obvious favorites, who of course love everyone equally.

I am repeatedly reminded at these family events of how perfectly graceful my sister is in the ways of social behavior and conversation. I've always liked to think that I brought light to the party- when I have to admit it's continually been her. She just knows what to say when, and how to make everyone laugh while I just sit by her whispering snide remarks into her ear.

In the same way my brother always derives so much joy from the food so lovingly made by my grandmother, and then from being alone watching Sports Center- and I don't mind, but for that then the rest of the night is spent with my mother trying to pull my brother into the party and my father and sister trying to calm everything down to make it enjoyable.

Holidays are always stressful, but worth it. Because without these people the holidays would feel very empty, and very boring. It's hard to describe why being with my family is heaven- but something about being squeezed into a tiny room, gathered around a single ukelele, singing Bob Dylan songs out of key and trying not to wake grandpa is so funny and great to me, it makes me hope that heaven is just as unexpected in it's joy and goodness.

Break Away

Scratch. One. Done.

It's disappointing now that it's over. That's how it is every time, because, after all, it's not like I'm getting somewhere. Like any of us are ever getting anywhere.

Sitting in my cell is not so bad. Well, not as bad as you, someone on the outside, would expect. I just sit here and think. Sometimes I get to leave and do cool stuff like ping-pong, or watch T.V., or lift weights... stuff like that. But mostly I'll jut sit here and think about my life. What I've done, who I loved, what I did to get stuck in here.

I'd love to tell you some dramatic story about how I was framed, it was a crime of passion, or even just that I'm crazy and had no control of my actions. But that would be a lie, and I'm just too dog tired to even think up a good lie anymore.

I just want to sit here, and wait for the day they'll let me out. Let me start over. Until then I don't want to think, or grow, or change. I wish I could freeze time in here and just let it pass out there so then I could come out and it would be like nothing ever happened, you know?

But that's stupid. As much as I hate it time keeps going and I am just going to keep going with it. Until I get out. Until I see her.

Just one more day, just one more scratch.

490 days to go- 489 scratches left.

Seeking Solace

I hate seeing people mourn, because I know I have nothing to give them. A kind word, an understanding sentiment, is all lost on me. That doesn't mean I'm not sad or don't care, I just have never mourned, myself, and therefore have no way to fathom it.

So you can see that when my sister, having just miscarried her third child, came to ME first for comfort, how absolutely terrified I was.

"I just can't do it anymore. I CAN'T DO IT."

"I'm so sorry Sarah."

"It's not just the baby. I mean it IS but it isn't. Now I can't even look at Noah anymore. Every time I try to see him, I really just see the baby. The babies..."

"You'll get though this I promise."

Then I hug her. I HUG HER. Why the hell can't I think of something deep, or even reassuring to say? Why do I have to be so useless? As I hug her she starts to cry and I know that she won't want to talk for a little while. The sad thing is, I'm relieved she is crying, so I don't have to say anything for a while. I wish I wasn't so goddamned useless, but I am. At least I have arms. So I guess for hugging purposes I can offer some comfort. So, that's nice, I guess.

Dark

Evangeline's hands felt warm, and as she brushed her face with her palm it felt sticky- that's when she remembered that they were probably bleeding. She couldn't see them, it being entirely dark, but she remembered her hands hurting when, a short while ago, she had caught herself from falling on the rocks. She and Tristan had made it this far, though, and a bit more blood wouldn't kill her now. She tried to slow her heart rate, and stop the bout of uncontrollable shivering that had overcome her.

"Can we slow down? There's no way that they could have followed us. Not after we forged the river." She said between gasps, trying not to cry.

She could hear Tristan stop and wait for her to catch up, so she in turn walked faster, tripping in the process.

"Are you ok? We can't stop until we reach the woods, and I know they have to be nearby. Damn it! Why did this have to happen on the darkest night of the year? Why did it have to happen at all? I can't see anything. Look- I'm really sorry I got you into this, I am. And if... when we get home again, I'll make it up to you, ok? But you have to just keep going. We just have to keep going." Tristan said softly.

She grasped his hand, and could feel him jerk from surprise. Possibly because her hands we covered in blood, or because they were as cold as ice, but probably because holding hands with her was not what he had been expecting, not that night anyway. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, then pulled her on as they both felt blindly in front of them, knowing that reaching the woods and safety was only a mater of time.