My name is Avery Ellen James.

The rain came down like waves crashing on the shore, loud and heavy before it passes over you. The rain came down, the way your lips came down over mine. You were warm and embracing me entirely, the way the waves envelope you as you lay on the hot sand.

         "Avery! It's time for your piano lesson!" I heard the nagging crow of my mother tear me away from my laptop's click-clackinging keys. I loved the sound, more than I loved listening to other people play the violin. I've played Piano and violin my whole life, but I can never wrap my mind around the way strings make such a beautiful sound. I made my way down the stairs and into the parlor. There sat my piano, a big black baby grand. It made me smile to think of my sister Jennifer playing it. She was so talented, she could look at sheet music and play it a moment later, her fingers moving as fast as her brain could tell them to play the next note or chord.
          I was never so talented. Sure I could play well, I can even compose. But I can't bring life to something that isn't my own. I guess thats why I still listen when my mother says to come. I never really had my own life to live... I just embody all of my sibling's amazing talents into one, but I don't have any talents of my own.
          Scotty, my oldest brother was a track star, he ran miles upon miles. He placed first in every race he ran. My mom's pretty sour that I've never won a Gold, not even when I beat my personal best by a whole ten seconds.
          Louise was beautiful, she could manipulate the delicate feautres of her face to say whatever she wanted to say, or rather whatever her photographer wanted her to say. She was a print model. She never was tall enough or thin enough to walk the runways, but Mom made up for that fact with me.
         I already told you about Jennifer. But what about me? That's a good question. One, that I don't think I know the awnser to. My name is Avery Ellen James. I'm about a month away from turning eighteen. I run track, I have straight A's, I am a runway model, and I play the piano and the violin. I go to SCU in a few months! I'm really excited about that...Other people can tell you what they like and what they don't like. I don't think I can tell you that. Other people have friends and favorite stores and things they do in their spare time! I don't have friends, I don't go shopping and I guess I realyl don't have a ton of time. Maybe an hour or two when I stare at the half finished rough drafts of poems or short stories. I don't know if you can call that a hobby, writing. I think I'd have to finish something in order to like writing.
          You know what I really, really like? The feeling I get when my mom challenges me to lose one more pound. I love that feeling when she smiles at me when she checks my weight and sees that I acctually did lose a pound. It makes me feel confident! I feel alive and on those days I see the world more beautifully.
          Mom always drags me to church on Sundays. She claims to see God in everything. I really only ever believe her on those days. The days when the sky is bluer, when the grass is greener and when it feels amazing to look at the colors of my food. The light green of celery, the orange of carrots, the black of pepper and the almost white meat of the apple.
          But today isn't one of those amazing days. It's a day where my fingers feel numb hitting keys and my head hurts looking at two sets of five lines with four spaces. Where middle C is the only thing I can really comprehend. I'm day dreaming and instead of black and white paper, and instead of black and white keys, I see the blues and greens and yellows of the world I haven't yet set. I've traveled the world and been to the most influential cities of the world, but I don't feel as if I've seen any of it.  Instead of listening to the steady, even rhythym of my metronome, I only hear the uneven typing of my fingers on my keyboard. I'll type for that one hour but never go anywhere with it, but I save the file, expecting someday that it will be a beautiful novel that will make people praise the world around them, and notice little things they never notice, and comprehend big things, they never thought about before.
          I play until my mother is satisfied and then we sit down to a dinner that I don't eat. It's one of the rare days I wish I could, but when I bring it to my mouth, It feels awful to be chewing and swallowing the food in front of me. I take a bite or two, and then excuse myself. My plate full, but the food cut up and moved about the plate, my glass of water half gone.
          I walk up the stairs and lay down on my bed. It's almost time for bed. I look over to my laptop, it lay open on my bed. The "paper" blank except for a small few lines at the top of the page.
         It's one of those days that I wish I had...friends. I don't think I have any. Girls at school think I'm stuck up because I don't talk very much. Guys really only talk to me to try and hit on me, so I generally try to avoid them...I don't think I see boys the same way other girls do. I've always felt more for the other models beside me, than the boys who constantly undress me with their eyes. I don't know why they latch onto me. I don't have any curves or any pretty feautures to look at.
         Although, the other models have frighteningly small faces, their features large. They all look like terrified bugs. They tell me I'm the prettiest. That I'm different than them because I'm "pretty". I'm sick of being different, I'm always different. There is nothing that I'm in, in which I'm "normal".
         I used tp pray to God that one day I'd be normal. People say they can hear him speaking. Well, thats a voice I've never heard. I only SEE God on some days. I wear a cross around my neck...But if you were to ask me, I don't think I'd tell you "I am a christian." But then again, I heard our preacher say that if they have to ask you, you probably aren't.           That's another thing! Will God send me to hell if I'm a good person but never believed in him? I probably will go to Hell, then. I guess I'll be in good company. If good non-believing people go to heaven, do bad balieving people go to hell to? Is the line drawn at morality or at beliefs? Or does God have a chart? I hope God judges me for who I am, and not what I think. But I guess they kind of go together.

Dear God, If you are listening, please know that I am just a human. I cannot believe in things of uncertanty. I need validation that only comes from a touch or sound. We humans aren't blind to follow.  If it was you who created us, you created us to take in what we can see. Not to run around and blindly follow what we came up with. But I guess that proves you exist, if you created Adam and Eve, they followed you and the serpent, the things they could see and hear and have validated. But what about now God? Have you died and have you left us all alone? I don't know if you are there because I call and I hear no awnser. Dear God, If you hear this. Let me know. Please.