\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1361482-Home-Part-2
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1361482
the second part to my book: Home
“Your mom and dad were abducted, but later they were found in the jewelry store with the thief in hiding. Honey, I’m…I’m sorry. Your mom and dad…they were killed. As for Adam, the thief shot him when the police entered the room. Abby, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
I dropped the phone and Kelly picked it up, “Mom? What’s going on?”
When Kelly hung up the phone, tears started streaming down her face, “Oh my God…,” she said, terrified.
I still hadn’t processed this information when Mrs. Jenson came to pick us up. The police followed and wanted to ask me questions, but I was still too shocked to say anything. That night I slept over Kelly’s house, but no one in the house ended up sleeping.
          She and I sat in front of the window in her family room while we drank some cherry soda.
          “Hey Abby?”
          I looked at her. She hesitated for a moment.
          “Never mind.” She turned away from me, but I could still see her sobs.
We ended up falling asleep around 4 or 5 in the morning leaning on each other on her couch.
While she got dressed and ready for the funeral, her dad brought mr to my house to get dressed and get some of the belongings I wanted to keep. The rest my aunt and uncle would sort through.
I grabbed my dad’s button up dress shirt, my mom’s favorite blanket, Adam’s guitar, my art set, my teddy bear, and some clothes. The rest I didn’t want to see ever again.
Then I grabbed a picture of my family on the way out the door.
When we got back to Kelly’s house, I slowly walked up into her room, and there she was in a long black skirt, white tank top, white, high sandals with flower decorations on the side of the wooden bottom of the shoe, and her hair pulled back into a messy bun.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I look awful. But I never thought I’d be going to a funeral like this.”
I went over to her and hugged her, but neither of us cried.
“Thanks for trying.” I attempted at a weak smile, and then I went into the bathroom next to her parents’ room in the hallway. However, before I got in there, her mom stopped me.
“Hey Abby, honey. How are you feeling?” she said.
“Fine.”
“You don’t have to go today. I’m sure they’d understand.”
“I’ll go,” I replied quite seriously. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk, especially about something like this.
“Honey, you need to grieve. Why don’t you cry? Have you cried at all?” she asked sadly.
“No, Mrs. Jenson,” I said. “I haven’t.”
“It’s ok to cry. You don’t have to try to be strong.”
“I don’t need to cry. I don’t need to be strong, either.”
“But why?” she asked.
“Because this isn’t really happening.”
With that, I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. In a daze, I put on the long black dress I’d worn to the end-of-the-school-year dance last year. I put my hair half up and decided to wear my black flip flops, the ones Kelly and I had bought at the mall last Saturday. I wasn’t really in the mood to put on make up. My pale cheeks, blood red lips, and brown eyes are very unnoticeable, but at this point I didn’t want attention. I wanted to go home.
When I was done in the bathroom, it was time to leave for the funeral. Kelly and I hopeed into the back of their red Nissan Altima and her parents sat up front. There was silence the whole ride there.
We eventually pulled into the church my family used to attend, and there I saw Father George, but his constant smile was replaced with a fake one while he tried to be comforting.
We entered the church. On the way in, I think Father George said something to me, but I don’t remember what he said or what I said back to him. But I do remember wondering what was going to happen to me. Where was I going to live? My closest relatives were 8 hours away. There was no way I wanted to go there and leave everything behind.
We sat down in a pew in the front of the church, and then a bunch of relatives came over.
“Oh, Abby! I am so sorry, sweetie!” my aunt said in tears while she squeezed me until I couldn’t breathe. None of my cousins had come, and it was kind of obvious as to why my aunt hadn’t wanted them to come.
They were my only family left. Only my dad had had a sibling, and my Aunt Lisa was his one sister. All 4 of my grandparents had died when I was young.
Aunt Lisa turned to Mrs. Jenson and shook her hand, “Hi. I’m Abby’s Aunt Lisa.”
“Hello,” Mrs. Jenson answered softly. “Abby and my daughter have been best friends since they were in elementary school.”
“Oh. That’s very sweet. Whose been taking care of Abby since…”
Mrs. Jenson interrupted before Aunt Lisa could finish. “We have. She stayed with us last night. Do you know if her parents have left behind any kind of will?”
“Yes, actually. I believe it’s in their house somewhere. When Dave and I look through the house and everything, I’m sure we’ll find it somewhere. As for now, why don’t we take her off your hands and bring her home with us today?”
“No!” I exclaimed. Everyone looked at me, and I had even surprised myself. “Can I stay here, Aunt Lisa? Please. I need to be with Kelly.” Kelly took my hand.
“Well,” Aunt Lisa began. “I completely understand that, hon, but it’s up to Kelly’s parents.”
“Oh, we love Abby,” Mrs. Jenson answered.
“OK. But only until we find the will, and then we’ll go from there,” Aunt Lisa said.
I squeezed Kelly’s hand, and she squeezed back. Then the organ began playing.
When I turned around, I saw my aunt and Uncle Dave and a bunch of other guys pushing three coffins down the aisle. I quickly turned around and looked at my hands. There was no way I was going to look at those things…let alone pay attention to the mass.
As everyone around me started singing some sad song about angels, I began to daydream. I remembered when my parents would take me out to the drive in movie theater in my pajamas, and how Adam would play Hide and Seek with my friends and I. And then it hit me. They were gone. This was real. My family was gone forever.
At that point, it took every ounce of me to hold back tears. I could see Kelly glancing at me, and then she whispered something into her dad’s ear. After the funeral, I wasn’t surprised when Mr. Jenson dropped Kelly and I off at their house before heading to the cemetery.
I got out of the car and ran inside before Kelly had even opened her car door. I didn’t know where to once I was in the house, so I stood in the kitchen and started to cry. It felt like waterfalls were falling each of my eyes, and I couldn’t even feel my legs. I went into the living room and sat down on a couch. I pulled my knees up to my chest and placed my face in my hands. After a minute or two, I got the feeling I wasn’t alone.
When I looked up to see Kelly watching me with such pain in her eyes, I didn’t care about how I must look.
“Kelly, they’re gone. I’ve lost everything.”
“No, Abby. You haven’t. You have me.”
She came over and sat down beside me, and I sobbed on her shoulder for a long time.
Chapter 6
The next day, Aunt Lisa knocked on the door while I was laying in Kelly’s bed. I had started the night in my own little blow up mattress her parents had set up, but I decided to climb in with her. She held me until I cried myself to sleep.
When Mrs. Jenson answered the door, Aunt Lisa began talking.
“Hi. My husband and I have been searching the house and, just, getting rid of things. Do you know if there’s anything Abby wants to keep?”
“Well, actually, my husband took her to the house yesterday to get her dress, and she came back with a bunch of stuff, so I think she has everything she needs. Besides,” she began in a whisper, “the more she takes, the harder it’ll be for her to move on.” Mrs. Jenson began to cry. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. The crying turned into miserable crying, and I began to cry, too.” I needed to wake up Kelly.
“Kelly,” I whispered. “Kelly, please. Wake up.”
“Abby, what’s wrong?”
“I want to go home.”
“Aw, did you have a bad dream?”
“No. It’s real.” Then I started crying even harder, and Kelly began to cry, too.          “Why are you crying?” I asked.
“Because,” she said. “You’re sad, and I don’t know what to do to help you. All I can do is share the pain with you. When you cry, I cry because it makes me sad.”
“I think I just need some time alone. I’m gonna go for a walk, ok?” I asked, sniffling.
“Ok.”
I threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants and left the room. I went down the stairs, out the door, down the street, and ended up at my old house. I went inside and searched the whole house to make sure my aunt and uncle weren’t there. Then I went into my old room and collapsed onto my bed. I sobbed uncontrollably and didn’t even try to wipe away the tears. I didn’t want to move at all. I laid there and cried and wished I could stay like that forever.
I must have fallen asleep, because before I knew it, I was being wakened by Kelly’s parents. Kelly was standing in the doorway. I looked at the pain in her parents’ eyes and started to cry all over again. I was getting so tired of crying.
“I want my mom and dad. Why’d they leave me? Why?”
“Abby, honey,” Mrs. Jenson began, “We need to get you some help.”
I didn’t object. I was too tired and miserable to even care about what happened to me.
They brought me home and started making some phone calls. I heard Mrs. Jenson talking to some people on the phone and telling them what my problem was. After about fifteen minutes, turned to me, sitting next to her at the kitchen table, and said, “Wanna go out?”
“Um, where?” I asked.
“ I was just talking to my best friend, Jhanae, on the phone. She lost her husband a few years ago in a fire at his hotel on a business trip. She was very much in denial, just like you. She recommended a professional for you to go and talk to.”
“I don’t need a professional. I’m not a lunatic.”
“Honey, I know you’re not a lunatic. But sometimes people have trouble working through their problems and being happy again.”
“Can you please stop talking to me like I’m 5?” Then I felt really badly for saying that. I’ve KNOWN this woman since I was 5, and I don’t blame her for missing that era. I mean, before Kelly and I were teenagers and before my parents…well, you know.
Mrs. Jenson’s eyes glossed over with tears, but she still said, “You’re going.” Then she walked out of the room.


Chapter 7
The minute I walked into the shrink’s office I knew I was in for it. My “therapist,” as Mrs. Jenson preferred to call it, was a woman. She seemed really Irish. She had long, dark, wavy thick hair, a million freckles, and the brownest eyes. She put a smile on her face, except it was a God honest smile, not one of those I’m-so-glad-I’m-not-you smiles. Her eyes showed sympathy, and the warmth and softness of her handshake was very comforting. The way she looked at me told me I was going to like her, but there was no way I was going to show her my pain. I was never going to cry in front of her. Ever. And in that case, I was never going to cry in front of anyone else, either. Not even Kelly.
Whatever spurred me to make that decision, I don’t know, but I just felt like I needed to be strong. You always read tragic stories about the little kid whose dying from cancer or the kid who lost a brother to…who knows? However, the common thing about all of them is that their brave or whatever. I felt I needed to prove that I could be tough, too. I didn’t want people feeling badly for me. It just made me feel worse.
I sat down in a brown leather chair across from her as she made small talk. When she came to sit down with a notebook, though, she got all business.
“So, Abby, I’m Miss. Arnold, but you can call me Amy if you’d like.” I shrugged and she continued, “Well, Mrs. Jenson told me what’s been going on, but maybe I can understand a little more if you tell me.”
“Um, there’s nothing really to say. My parents were murdered while working on something for their stupid boss, but that’s all I can really tell you. Until my aunt and uncle find the will and read about what my parents wanted to do with me, I’m living with my best friend and her family, the Jensons.”
“Do you like staying with them? Are you happy with those arrangements?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I mean…I don’t know.”
“What?” she asked, suspiciously, as if she knew there was more.
“If I could, I’d go home, real home. To my real parents, my room, my brother. I want so badly for this to be a bad dream.”
Amy looked at me sympathetically, “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I could see the overwhelming amount of pure sadness in her eyes, and that touched me so much. I felt like crying, but swallowed instead.
“Whatever. It’s ok,” I replied blankly. I decided to add a half hearted smile so she wouldn’t keep bugging me about it until I broke.
“What about your friend, Kelly? How are things with you two?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, sometimes when two very close friends spend a lot of time together, they eventually get annoyed with each other’s little habits.”
I looked at her. “Kelly doesn’t annoy me. How could you think something like that?”
“I’m not saying anything against your friend. Sometimes it happens, Abby.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“Ok. I understand.” She looked almost hurt.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked. “Have you ever lost somebody?”
“Well, yea,” she said. “My grandmother died when I was around your age…”
“That’s not the same as losing your whole family. Don’t think you understand me. You really don’t.”
“I’m sorry you feel I’m mistreating you.”
“Whatever,” I said.
We sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, and I refused to look at Amy. Eventually she said, “Well, your time is up. Why don’t you go and get Mrs. Jenson so I can talk to her for a few minutes?”
I got up to leave, and while Mrs. Jenson and Amy were talking behind the closed door, I picked up an old psychology magazine and began reading an article about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in children when a mother and her daughter, who looked about my age, came walking in.
“Mrs. Jenson, I’m not depressed. I can’t believe you’re making me come here.”
“Look, Abby, your grades have dropped dramatically, your friends are constantly asking me why you won’t hang out with them over the weekend, your science teacher said you just sit there and write morbid poetry all period. What am I supposed to think?”
“Whatever. I hate you.”
I cowered at that. How could someone say that to their mother? What if those were the last words they could say to her?
As I was thinking about that, Mrs. Jenson came out of the room, at which she told hatred girl and her mother they could go in. When we were alone, Mrs. Jenson turned to me.
“Why won’t you talk to her?”
“She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t understand.”
“If you just talk to her, she will get to know you and maybe she will understand. You don’t know her, either, Abby. Give her a chance.”
“Is there something you know that I don’t?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Jenson said. “If you talk to her, maybe you’ll figure that out. Come on, sweetie. Let’s go home. Kelly just called me and asked me if I’d pick up some ice cream.” She put her arm around my shoulder and we headed out to the car. On the way to Stewart’s Shop, she called home and I could hear Kelly answer on the other end.
“Hey, hon. We’re just leaving the therapist now and we’re going to pick up some ice cream. I’ll pick up two boxes. What flavors do you want?” she asked.
“Um, pick me up some Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, but let Abby pick out her own while you’re there. How is she anyway?” That was Kelly. Mrs. Jenson’s cell phone volume was so high I could hear Kelly’s every word. I appreciated the fact that she was wondering about me.   
“Do you want to talk to her?”
“Yea.”
Mrs. Jenson handed me the phone, “Hey,” I said.
“Hey, Abs. How are you? How was the therapist?”
“It was ok. She seems a little weird. She acts like she understands what I’m going through.”
“Well, she should somewhat. She’s a therapist.”
“Yea, well, your mom seems to be hiding something about her from me.”
“Really?”
“Yea. Do you have any idea about what it could be? Honestly?”
“No, I seriously don’t. Just keep on going for a little while and definitely tell me if you figure anything out. It can’t be bad, or else my mom wouldn’t let you see her.” We pulled into the parking lot for the store.
“Yea, I know. Ok, well, we just pulled into the parking lot, so I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Ok. Get something good. Bye.”
After having that conversation with Kelly, I felt happier than I had in days. It felt like she was the only other person who felt my pain, too. That’s why she’s my best friend.   


Chapter 8

At Stewart’s Shop I picked out some Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough for Kelly and got Cookies and Cream for myself. Mrs. Jenson also let me get some whipped cream and chocolate syrup.
While she was in line, I went to look at the magazines and then felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see this girl I have NEVER liked, Emily. She just has such an attitude problem and made it clear to me that she didn’t like me, either, so I wasn’t exactly thrilled when she came over and pretended we were best friends…especially because she was doing it due to my situation.
“Abby! How are you?” she asked enthusiastically while wrapping me in her snotty little arms. I tried to be nice and wrap my arms around her, too, but certainly not as tight as she was hugging me.
“I’m ok. How are you?” I answered.
“I’d be better if you weren’t dealing with such a miserable situation,” she said and frowned dramatically.
Liar. I thought. “Yea, well, I’ll deal,” I said. “I have my best friend, Kelly, to help me through it, and her parents are really great, as well.”
“Well, if you ever need anything, my number’s in the school directory.” Then she started to walk away and blew me a friendly, but totally fake, kiss. “See ya in September.”
Then I was hit with the cruelest reality in the world. School. It’d be starting in two weeks. I was totally not ready to deal with people. People who knew what had happened would either be suffocating me in apologies or not know what to say and not talk to me at all. Those who had no idea would soon find out. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to walk through the hallways without constantly being watched for signs of depression or suicidal thoughts. Especially by the teachers and guidance counselors.
Tenth grade is gonna be fun. And as good ‘ol Charlie Brown would say, Good grief.
When Mrs. Jenson started walking toward me and declared that we were ready to go, I gave one last look at Emily getting into her car, rolled my eyes, and followed Mrs. Jenson. I was in for a bumpy ride.
After about ten minutes of being in the car, we pulled into the driveway and I saw Kelly sitting on the front stoop waiting. I got out of the car and walked toward her with the ice cream. When she jumped up and came running I expected her to take the ice cream and go inside, but instead she threw her arms around me and hugged me. “Let’s have a comfort sleepover,” she whispered in my ear.
“But I’ve been sleeping over for the past, like, three days.”
“This will be different. Tonight we’re gonna have a sleepover like the old times.” I smiled then, and it felt so good.
She grabbed my hand and we walked up to her room. I saw that she’d apparently redone it while I was out. It really was like the old times, but it made my heart ache a little because I eventually realized that I wouldn’t be going home the next morning.
But anyway, we sat on her bed, and I told her all about Emily and how she pretended to be my best friend.
“If that’s how one person acted about it, imagine how the whole school’s going to act. “ Then it got all quiet. “Oh, God. What?” I asked her suspiciously.
“Did I say something?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “And that usually means something.”
“Well, mom and dad told me not to tell you yet, but, um, we’re not going back to school this year. We won’t be coming back to the state…”
“What?!” I jumped out of the room to find Mr. and Mrs. Jenson.
“What the hell does Kelly mean by ‘We’re not coming back to the state.’ ?” I asked them.
I heard Kelly behind me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell her. She brought up school and I had to tell her.” She started to cry out of mere guilt. I turned around and pushed her. When she fell to the ground, I shouted at her, “Shut up! You’re not the one who freaking lost her whole family and is now gonna lose everybody else she knows!”
She got up and ran to her room. I heard her door slam shut and turned to look at her parents. Surprisingly they didn’t look the least bit angry.
“Abby, we felt it would do us good to start a new life.”
“I don’t want a new life! I want my old one back!”
I ran out of their, too, and slammed their door shut. As I was passing Kelly’s room, I heard her wrenching sobs. I stood outside and listened, and I went to open the door but decided not to. I thought about how horribly witchy I’d acted, how she’d spoken to me on the phone on the way home to simply see how I was doing and greeted me with a hug and how she was trying so desperately hard lately to cheer me up. It must have been so hard. I felt like such a jerk. I started to silently cry, too.
I leaned on the door and slid down until I was sitting cross legged on the floor with my head in my hands. Kelly was on the other side in probably the same amount of pain I was in.
The sleepover was over, and sadly, it had barely begun.

Chapter 9
         After a while of sitting there, I got up and walked down the stairs into the kitchen. It was starting to get chilly out due to the early fall winds. I got the hot chocolate mix out of the pantry and put a pot of water on the stove. After splashing my swollen eyes with water and blowing my nose, my water was boiling and I went to take it off the stove. But before I could even turn around, Kelly was there taking the pot off the stove and pouring it into two mugs. She stirred in the chocolate mix and squirted whipped cream on the top of each mug. Then she walked over to the kitchen table with both mugs, put them down, one on either side of the table, pulled out two chairs, and sat down. She looked from the chair and mug across from her and then at me.
         “Are you gonna drink it? Because if you don’t, you know I will.” I smiled and sat down beside her.
         “Only if we move to the couch and watch a movie.”
         Then she smiled. We got up and each got a bowl of ice cream. Once we were in the living room and laughing at Napoleon Dynamite, I leaned my head on her shoulder.
         “Wanna know what my new biggest fear is?” I asked. She looked at me. “Losing you.”
         “Me, too,” she said, and leaned her head on mine. The sleepover wasn’t off anymore after all.
         You may be wondering right about now how it is that I was able to keep myself from crying hysterically and non stop. Honestly, I really don’t know. I think I just chose not to. I mean, some may think that’s not possible, but I think I subconsciously decided that constantly crying and dwelling on my grief would just make me feel worse, so I decided to be numb instead. That probably wasn’t any better of an idea, but that’s how things went.
         “Kelly?” I asked. “When are we moving? And where? What about my aunt and uncle? And the will? I’m not even technically supposed to be living with you.” And then she went silent. “Am I?”
         “Well,” she began, “I’m scared to tell you. I don’t want you to flip out again.”
         I laughed. “I promise. I won’t. If I do, you can have the rest of my ice cream.”
         Then she laughed. “Ok. Well, speaking of your aunt and uncle, we got a call from them this morning while you were at therapy.” I cringed at the word. “They found the will.”
I looked at her. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“Nothing, Abby. You’re staying…with us. I hope that’s somewhat ok.”
“I guess,” I answered while trying to hide my intense sadness. I didn’t want to live with Kelly’s family. I wanted to go home. I wanted my family. Then she continued.
“Well, we’re not moving too far. We’re just moving to Hartford, Connecticut. It’s, like, two hours away from here. I mean, I guess it could be worse.”
My cheeks grew hot with frustration. It could be worse? What’s worse than losing your whole family at 15-years-old?
“Yea,” I lied. “It could be worse. But when? When are we leaving?”
“A week.” I stopped breathing. I was leaving in a week? And they were just telling me now? A week? But, I guess it’s not Kelly’s fault. It’s as if she read my mind.
“I agree with you, Kelly. I think taking you to a place full of strangers would just make things worse. I don’t want to leave my friends, either. Believe me. “
“Are we going to get to say good-bye?”
“Well, I invited Chloe, Marie, Anna, and Kylie over tomorrow. We’re probably going to hang out and…try to say goodbye.”
“Why only tomorrow? Why not, like, every other day?”
“We have to pack.”
“I seriously can’t believe this. No offense, Kelly, but I really hate your parents right now.”
“Join the club.”

The next day, around 2:00 PM, the girls arrived, and it was then that I realized how amazing my friends truly are. They didn’t totally ignore me for fear of saying something wrong, but they didn’t even mention it. The look in their eyes told me that they were sorry, but after a few minutes “the look” disappeared so we could have some fun.
Anyway, we all greeted each other with a huge hug and from there walked to the ice cream shop down the street. I really couldn’t decide on what to get. Chloe got a vanilla milkshake, Marie got chocolate malt, Kylie got a hot fudge brownie sundae with whipped cream, Anna got a vanilla and chocolate twist in a cup, and Kelly got a banana split. I was still looking at the menu five minutes after they’d received their orders, and they got really impatient.
“Abby, hurry your butt up!” Kylie shouted.
I laughed, “Ok, ok. I’m coming.”
I decided to just get a Snowball, which was vanilla ice cream and mint flavoring with mint flips in it. I love that stuff! But when I sat down at the table, the bombardment of questions I’d been dreading arose. Chloe started it.
“I don’t know what to say, Abby. I’m really sorry about your parents. Oh my gosh. I shouldn’t have mentioned it!”
“It’s ok,” I said, trying to hide my…sadness? Hurt? It must not have worked, though, because Marie put her arm on my shoulder then.
“Yea, I guess what Chloe is trying to say is that we’ll always be here if you ever need to talk,” she said.
“Thanks, guys.” It was really an awkward conversation to be having. So after that, everyone stopped talking until it was time to get up and leave. I always hated when that happened.
We walked home in silence, too, except for Kelly and Anna who were talking about some new TV show that would be starting in September. I felt so guilty. If I hadn’t acted so upset, nothing would be awkward now. I knew I was in for a bumpy road, as if the current one I was on wasn’t bad enough.
Well, the road home from the ice cream parlor had never felt that long before. When we finally DID get home, the girls’ parents were there waiting for them. Kelly brought them in to get whatever they’d brought with them while I accepted more hugs and apologies from their parents. When they came outside it was time for me to say goodbye.
I threw my arms around Chloe and held her for as long as possible. “I guess one good thing will be that no one at school will no what I’ve been through. I won’t get any stares or friend pretenders.” I tried to smile, but Chloe saw right through it. She took my hand and said, “I’ll think about you.” She let go, got into her car, and drove away.
I hugged all the other girls and watched their cars drive down the street and turn at the corner. Then they were gone.
Kelly and I looked at each other, managed a half-smile, and went inside to finish packing.
The rest of the week flew by, and it was filled with silent and secretive sobs on my side of the room after Kelly had fallen asleep. I had never been so miserable in my life. First my family was taken away from me, and then my home. It sucked. I didn’t even want to think about starting a new school.
Chapter 10

         Well I’ll start off and tell you right now that the first day was horrible. I wish I didn’t have to bring it back into my memory, because that’s when things just started spiraling downward. But it’s important, so here goes nothing…
         When Mrs. Jenson dropped Kelly and I off at Maloney High School, we got out of the car and tried to walk into the building like normal people. However, it’s apparently I small high school. Everybody knows everybody, so we were getting these who-are-you looks the whole time. Those two minutes on the way to the front office felt like ten.
         When we finally did reach our destination, though, we walked into the main office and talked to one of the short, dark haired, glasses faced secretaries.
         “Can I help you girls?” she asked suspiciously.
         I put on my friendliest smile. “Yes, we are new at this school today and we were wondering if we could have our schedules, please?”
         “Sure she said. Hold on one second.” She turned to her computer and typed a few things. “What are your last names?”
         “My last name is Brokefeld. Her name is Jenson.”
         She typed in a few more keys. “Abby and Kelly?”
         “Yes,” I replied. She printed them up and handed them to us. “Good luck.”
         We thanked her and went into the main lobby to compare schedules. To our horror we found that we had no classes together.
         “Oh my gosh. What are we going to do?” Kelly asked.
         “Don’t panic. Everything will be fine. Hopefully we’ll see eachother between classes. I mean, it’s a small school…isn’t it?”
         “Yea,” Kelly said with a little more confidence. “It is.”
         We hugged and walked into two opposite directions. My first class was Global Honors. Ugh. Social Studies first thing in the morning.  After getting lost for ten minutes I found my classroom and found a seat in the front center of the room. Yea, I’m a nerd. I know.
         I was sitting there looking at the desk and running my pointer finger around the smooth wood when I saw someone standing in front of me with her hands on her hips.
         “Um, I sit here.” She had a stubborn look on her face, and her voice had quite an attitude. She was wearing glasses with pink rims and her hair was braided.
         “Oh,” I said as I began to get up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know we had assigned seats. I mean, it’s the first day of school for me here. You can sit here if you want. I’ll move over there…”
         “Shut up,” she interrupted me.
         I turned around and walked to the back corner of the room. There was a desk back there with one leg shorter than the other, so every time I moved my desk wobbled with me. But it’d have to do. I didn’t know who else in this school had an attitude.
         The bell finally rang and kids started filing into class. Lucky for me, the guy who sat in front of me had so much dandruff, I felt like I was sitting with a human snowstorm. The girl next to me apparently had such bad allergies she sneezed, like, every three minutes. And she never thanked me when I blessed her, either. Ugh. I can’t stand it when people aren’t polite like that. I mean, it probably sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. Eventually I just stopped blessing her.
         The bell finally rang for second period. As I got up and picked up my books, but sneeze girl sneezed (surprise) and had to run past me to get a tissue, in which case she knocked into me and I dropped all my books. The teacher had to give me a pass for my next class, which was Math.
         I walked across the school to find it, and I walked in, found a seat in the front right (Miss Attitude wasn’t in there, thank God), and sat down just as my phone buzzed. There was a text from Kelly.
         
         Ugh. I’ve been sitting next to this girl for 5 minutes and already she’s sneezed 5 million times.

         I giggled and texted her back.

         Emilia Pinkheart? Omg. I know. Don’t even bother blessing her.

         In a matter of seconds I got another text back from her.

         Oh, I know. I already tried.

         Then I saw the teacher standing over me. “Give it to me. You can retrieve it after class.” I handed it to her, and to my horror she opened it up, played around with the buttons, and put it to her ear!
         “Hi,” she said. “Is this Kelly? ... Oh hi, Mr. Dryer, this is Mrs. Smith. You caught your student texting, too?”
         This can’t be happening…
         “I’m sorry that you were disrupted. I’m gonna have to work on my student this year.” She looked at me.  “And she better be ready. Oh! Bless you to whoever sneezed in the background!”
         I put my face in my hands so the other kids wouldn’t see my beet red cheeks.
         “Haha! Emilia Pinkheart!” one of the guys shouted. The whole class began laughing.
         Mrs. Smith shushed the class. “Ok, Mr. Dryer. I’ll see you in the teacher’s lounge 6th period.” She hung up my phone, smirked at me, and walked to her desk with it. “That, class, is what will happen if I ever catch you texting during my class.” Everyone laughed. I rested my head in my hand and looked down at my desk for the rest of class. This day was never going to end.
         Eventually lunch came around. I walked into the cafeteria and looked around. I saw an empty table in the front next to the door. I took a book out when I sat down and tried to look busy. Then  a carton of milk came flying at me. It was full, too, and spilled all over my outfit and splattered all into my hair. I turned to see a bunch of girls at the end of the table laughing at me, including Miss attitude. I’d had enough. Tears burned my eyes, my face became hot. I got up and ran outside. Somehow I managed to find my locker, open it, and lean in and cry silently so no one would notice. Then I heard my name.
         “Kat!” It was Kelly. I turned around, tears staining my face, and ran up to her.
         “Aw, Abby. I’m sorry but I have to get to class. I was just running to the bathroom with my new friends, Courtney and Emilia.”
         Emilia was the sneeze girl! And get this! She sneezed, Kelly blessed her with this tone in her voice like they were best friends, and the sneeze girl, whose name was apparently Emilia, thanked her with great appreciation! It wasn’t that, though, that made me really mad. It was the fact that Kelly had texted me just two periods to complain about her and I got caught and humiliated in front of the whole class, and now they were all of a sudden friends!
         “Oh, yea,” Emilia said. “That whole thing second period about Kelly texting you to complain about me, well, that was just a joke. Kelly mentioned that you were sisters.” I looked at Kelly with anger flaring in my eyes. SISTERS?! She turned away from me. “ So I told her that you seemed really mad that I wouldn’t thank you after blessing me this morning, like, a million times. Just so you know, that was because my throat was really sore and it hurt to talk. But anyway, that’s why Kelly texted you. We thought it’ be hilarious if you fell for it.”
         I looked at Kelly, started to cry all over again, and ran to the nearest bathroom. She called my name but didn’t follow me. I wanted to go home so badly. I wanted to go to my home where I didn’t have a “sister.”
         The rest of the day kind of slugged on by. I continued to be ignored. Well, I kind of ignored everyone else. I was really upset and I didn’t want to start crying when someone decided to talk to me. I mean, they’d think I was a freak.
         When the final bell rang I didn’t even bother to wait for Kelly. I just went to my locker and started to walk home. A few minutes after I got into the house and into my new room (which was the best part of the whole trip, having my own room), she stormed into my room without even knocking.
         “Thanks for waiting,” she blurted out obnoxiously.
         “Thanks for comforting me when I was upset.” Then I turned to her and gave her an evil look. “I mean, isn’t that what sisters are supposed to do?” I turned away from her and continued to work on my math homework.
         “Abby. Get over it. You have a new family now. You don’t have a brother anymore. You have me, and you’re just going to have to accept that.”
         “You know something? Maybe I’m not ready to accept it. You don’t know what it’s like to lose your whole family, now do you?”
         The next thing she said totally made me freeze.
         “You’re right. I don’t because I would actually spend time with my parents, even if it meant interrupting my birthday party.”
         I got up, ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. I collapsed on the ground and began to sob. She knew that I felt guilty about that. That’s why she’d said it, to hit me where it’d hurt the most. So why did it hurt so badly?
         “Abby,” she said through the door. “I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
         “No,” I said through sobs. “You shouldn’t have.”
         “Could you please unlock the door?”
         There was no why I even wanted to look at her face at the moment. I didn’t answer her.
         “Please?” After a minute or two she gave up and I heard her footsteps getting farther and farther. Then her bedroom door closed. It was at that moment that I decided to get up and go to my room. But before I could I saw my razor. My head told me to leave the bathroom, but I continued to head for my razor. It was brand new, so it was still pretty sharp. I had promised all my friends that I’d never do it, but that was years ago, before I’d lost my family.
         I picked up the razor, turned over my arm, and placed the razor onto my forearm. Before I could even think about what I was doing I scraped the razor across my skin. It hurt like you wouldn’t believe but for some reason it felt so good. I watched the thick, shiny red blood ooze out of a decent sized cut. Then I did it again. I liked the idea of being able to actually control my pain. It felt good to finally be in control of something after such a long time.
I made one more cut but then heard footsteps outside. I wiped off my arm, put band aids on it, and ran the razor under some water. I opened the door to greet Mrs. Jenson with a smile plastered on my face. It was really weird, but I felt so much better. I walked to my room, closed the door, and finished my homework. After dinner I didn’t talk to anybody, including Kelly, for the rest of the night.
I decided I would do it the next day, too.
© Copyright 2007 Kat Twarog (dreamwriter164 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1361482-Home-Part-2