Freewrite Friday, Week 4

-Sunday, December 08, 2013-
9:22 AM
Sleepless

  I didn’t fall asleep until maybe about 1 AM last night. Which was fine.

  I had a wonderful night’s sleep. I woke up a few times, but my dreams were nothing to keep me restless. Which was fine.

  I was woken up by a loud door knock and “Good morning peopzles” from my dad.

  Immediately, I wanted to suffocate him with a pillow.

  He knew I set an alarm for everything, and he didn’t even check it. And he writes everything on the calendar. Calendar says to leave at 11. “No, that’s when we need to get there.” Then write 10:30!

  This entry is really a rant. The first real rant I suppose I’ve written. Maybe it doesn’t even belong here, but…dear god, sometimes I hate my family so much.

-Monday, December 09, 2013-
6:24 PM
Recap

  So we had no school today. Snow came in like a blizzard almost all day yesterday, and it iced overnight.

  I had a dentist appointment to go to at 1:30, and it murdered my mouth. My teeth ached for hours afterwards, and has only recently stopped hurting.

  My roommate and I played in the snow yesterday. I will never be too old to play in snow. My wolfish heart longs to be in a wintry tundra – even one as meager as what can be presented in my front yard.

  My mother told me only moments ago that my grandmother’s legs are ‘compromised’. I don’t know what that means.

  …

  I’m living a double-life.

-Tuesday, December 10, 2013-
5:17 PM
First Day

  The work was easy enough. All I had to do was sort through boxes – one pile for books with ISBN numbers, and one pile for books without When the boxes were sorted, I had eight boxes with ISBN numbers, and over twelve (two stacks of six, and then some taken away) without. I took the boxes with numbers, and took them to a computer, and typed in the numbers – doing so found out how much each was worth. It was really easy.

  I’d gotten there around noon, and had all this done with an hour left until close (closing time is five). So then what? I went upstairs to the actual store area, and alphabetized some books. I really enjoyed it. I can even help myself to food or drinks whenever I want without paying for them.

  It’s really a nice little place. Maybe the volunteer hours can eventually become real work hours…?

-Wednesday, December 11, 2013-
5:45 PM
Second Day

  Sorted more boxes, typed in more numbers, filled up more boxes, enlarged another stack. Honestly, this was too easy. I was done all the boxes they’d given me by three. So they had me go upstairs.

  My back ached a little from moving so many boxes back and forth across a warehouse, but I wouldn’t complain. I hadn’t had caffeine for some time, so I was getting a headache from that. Also, I think the headache came from me straightening library-sized bookshelves. I arranged four whole ones – from top to bottom – by setting books by height (tallest on the left and right, shortest in the middle). It’s more easy work, but just so damn tedious.

  I think that’s what made me dislike it: It’s tedious. It’s little things.

  I know I’m new, and they don’t want to rush me in to things, but I want to move on. I want a new task. Let me list books online, let me bale some recycled paper, let me sort the empty boxes, let me glue the bindings back together, let me price books, let me vacuum.

  Let my damn keys work.

-Thursday, December 12, 2013-
10:41 AM
She Was Blonde

  So Black Veil Brides is my favorite band.

  Yes, I like KISS, and Breaking Benjamin, BOTDF, and Adam Lambert (and a Hell of a lot more), but BVB means so much more to me.

  No, they didn’t save my life. No, they’re not all just cute (I don’t like how Jake looks without make-up, at all). And, no, I’m not madly in love with Andy.

  This band is just something made of five wonderful men who represent everything to me that I’ve been searching for for years. I have been looking for people who believe what I believe, say what I want to say, and do things how I would do them; I found that in BVB.

  I also found Hellishly good music from them, as well.

  In any case, I know that looks can be deceiving, and that many of the other BVB fans hide in the shadows. But…I never thought they could hide in the light.

  There are two orchestra classes in my school: Symphony during first period (sophomores, juniors, and seniors), and Concert during third (freshmen). We switch off days of the week for sectionals. Cello sectionals were today, so we had to come in during second period to stay for practice. Well, practice let out a minute after the bell rang. So, me and my three other section-members went back to take our things back.

  The storage room was crowded. Concert band and orchestra were back in there getting their instruments out, while me and my section-members had to squeeze through to get things put away. Mind you, I’m wearing one of my favorite BVB shirts today.

  As I’m getting through to my locker:

  “Oh my god, I LOVE your shirt! BVB is my fave band, like number one band, of ALL TIME!”

  “…Huh?”

  “Seriously!”

  “You like BVB?”

  “Yeah!”

  It’s a trick. She’s blonde. Not emo-blonde. Preppy, popular, “flowers and pink and O-M-G” blonde. Pink shirt, blue jeans, Converse sneakers…and blonde.

  My turn to test her:

  “Who’s your favorite member?”

  “Oh god, it’s a tie. Between Jake, Ashley, and Andy.”

  She knew more than just Andy. Good god, I thought I was having a heart attack. Maybe seeing and hearing things; talking to air. Maybe talking to an angel…

  “My god, I love you. But CC’s my favorite.”

  “Oh yeah, he’s so silly! And little Bulbalito, so cute!”

  “Okay, seriously, I love you.”

  She laughed. A tinkling like a bell. She was so bright and bubbly and innocent and…not like any BVB fan I’ve ever met before.

  “Do you have a Twitter?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, here.” I wrote my name down and gave it to her.

  It’s so weird.

  I’ve met tons of BVB fans I didn’t know existed once this school year started, and I converted tons more – including my parents and grandmother. I mean, this girl here…she…she represents everything to me.

  You can’t judge a book by its cover. In the words of Dahvie Vanity: It’s not what you see, but what you discover.

  I’m bound to find more people like her, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

  I mean, good god…

  She was blonde.

9:33 PM
Words Better Left Unsaid

  Now I get why it bothered me.

  She looked like her.

  Not entirely, no. Granted, I didn’t pay attention to details. I was being shoved around; attempting to protect my precious cello from careless freshmen while we spoke. But, she did have the same qualities.

  Except how damn short she was. And I think her eyes were blue, and not green like they should be. And my beautiful girl wouldn’t be caught-…well she didn’t like pink, okay?

  I sit and think of her now. How a week or so ago, I saw him in Wal-Mart. The one who told me what she’d done was in there, getting a haircut. Like he damn well belonged to be there. And he saw me and smiled and nodded, and I smiled weakly and nodded back. I know he tried to talk to me – even stood up a bit to come after me. But…I had to keep walking.

  He sent me a message on Facebook later that night.

  “Hey, how’s it going? You doing any better? Last time I saw you, you were all in black.”

  “I was in all black this time, too.”

  “Yeah but last time wasn’t your choice.”

  “No kidding, I wanted to wear red.”

  “It’s what she asked for, I know. But, anyway, you doing better?”

  “You already asked that.”

  “You never answered.”

  “There is no answer.”

  There was a long silence, maybe a half hour or so before he messaged me again. He should’ve known I couldn’t really stand to talk to him. It wasn’t his fault – I was shooting the messenger by ignoring him, but I didn’t know what I could say to him.

  “Do they still talk to you?”

  “There’s more of them, now.”

  “How many?”

  “Two-hundred-something, and still going.”

  “How often?”

  “Maybe two or three new ones a month.”

  “Any disappear?”

  “Not for any decent time. But some have just kinda…faded into the background.”

  “You’re not doing that, too, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. You worry me.”

  “Don’t.”

  “I know, I know. I sound like her.”

  “You can’t…you can’t do this to me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll cry.”

  “Maybe you need to.”

  “She can’t kiss away the tears.”

  Another few minutes.

  “Have you visited her?”

  “Only in dreams.”

  “Go see her.”

  “The dreams are enough.”

  “You need closure.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “You need it.”

  “I’ll get it when I’m dead.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “I’ll get her. And that’s closure.”

  I switched to be offline. I couldn’t take any more of it. I knew – and know – he only wanted to help, but I can’t have him do that.

  I can never forget her. My other half…my darling…my dearest.

  My angel.

10:59 PM
Remembrance

  Who knows why I’m remembering you now, so suddenly. Maybe it was that girl from earlier. Maybe it was from me checking my Facebook logs. Maybe it’s because I saw the belts in the corner – stacked from white up to blue – and I thought of that day I acted like an idiot.

  Sensei stood at the front of the mat, giving his after-class speech. It was a hard workout for me that day; so many forms I had to learn, and new weapon techniques. I’d thrown you to the ground a couple of times when we were paired – but only because you told me to, and said a thousand times how it was okay. You promised.

  I was sweating, overheating, and exhausted. I’d never felt so out-of-breath before, and my eyes followed the swirling black spots that began to cloud my vision. I tried to hold out. I stood there amongst the others as he spoke. I stood quieter than death, my heart suddenly refusing to beat here and there. It was beating to its own tempo, like it was saying your name.

  I knew I was going to lose it; just pass out right there. I was too afraid to raise my hand and say something.

  You and him stood at the front of the room. I caught your eye, and you shot me a “you okay?” look. I shook my head, and wobbled. You grabbed him, and you both came to me. I remember the room falling suddenly silent – I can’t tell if that was from Sensei seeing, or from the fact that I went numb.

  I hovered over my body for a minute. I watched him holding me, lowering me gently to the ground to lie down. I saw you crying and begging for someone to help; that I wasn’t breathing, and needed water and cool air.

  I wanted to leave right there. Something begged for me to leave you all behind. But, I stayed. I came back because I couldn’t bear to see you cry. Especially not over something I could control.

  I went back into my body and opened my eyes. Sensei found a smoothie for me, and I had that to cool me off. It helped, it really did. I looked at you and smiled; said I’d be alright.

  Any time since then, you wouldn’t like me to so much as break a sweat on the mat before you’d freak out; afraid I’d leave you again.

  “I mean, for god’s sake,” you said. “Your heart stopped beating. It just flat stopped. You were gone.”

  “I could’ve been gone forever.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not. You’re right here, with me.”

  And now those words…those words play back in my head like a sickening lullaby.

  All the images flash through again and again. Sensei’s endless talking, you catching my eye, the cold darkness and floating sensation, the sweetened strawberry smoothie. It all comes back to me.

  And then it’s those damn words. “You’re right here, with me.”

  And, yet, you left me here.

  Alone.