BF 2nd edition

by Isabel Curtis

  "Ain't that the same thing?" He liked to be teased by her. "There's a subtle difference, but it's not like I expected you to grasp it." Jesse J. was about to answer, but he was distracted by the sudden arrival of the Wilson siblings.

  "Sorry we're late, guys," said James.

  "You know what you should do? Put your watches fifteen minutes forward so next time you can be on time," said Nick in a friendly tone, greeting his friends. "Not our fault today, dude!" said Will. "Hayden's slow at walking, you know with the injuries and everything..."

  "Hey, don't you blame it on me now! I might be slower but Mike is the one who took a one-hour long shower!" she said patting her brother on the stomach. "That's so not true!" Mike said, while eating a sandwich.

  "Why are you always eating?" Magda asked her boyfriend, before taking a bite herself.

  "And why do you always steal my food?"

  "I'm not stealing. Just making sure you are eating something good and healthy," she said, still chewing. "But I never eat healthy, and you know it."

  "Well then you should thank me! I deprive you of some unhealthiness."

  "Right." They were such a cute couple, at least that's what everyone in the gang thought.

  The streets were crowded with happy people and families, given that nothing much ever happened around here, so this town festival was a great occasion to spend a nice Sunday afternoon outdoors.

  "So are we gonna stay here all day or can we get going?" asked Alex.

  "Yeah, let's go," said James, as everyone headed towards the square.

  "So, uhm... you look better," Alex said to Hayden. "Thanks..."

  Finally someone who doesn't ask "How are you?"

  "You going back to school tomorrow?"

  "Yeah, I'm not really in the mood to see people but..."

  "Hayden!" A girl from the other side of the street called out to her and began running in her direction, leaving her family behind.

  Hayden stopped walking, simply because running away was not an option.

  "Amanda, hi!" Hayden said to her classmate. "Gosh, how are you? We have all been so worried about you, how are you feeling?" She was speaking so fast she was barely breathing, but that's what Amanda was good at: talking. "I am so sorry about your parents, we all came to the funeral, it was such a shame you couldn’t be there..."

  "Thanks, Amanda, we appreciate your interest." Everyone had halted and Will had stepped in to stop Amanda from saying anything else out of place. "Right, uhm, okay... so when will you be back at school?"

  "Tomorrow," she replied.

  "Great! I'll see you tomorrow then! Bye!" Amanda said while hugging her tight.

  "Bye," said Hayden, in a whisper, as her classmate walked away.

  "Come on, let's go." James put a hand on her shoulder and they began walking again, but everyone had fallen silent. They knew how much missing her parents' funeral had hurt her; but it's not like she had had a choice: she was still in a coma when the funeral took place, so when she woke up they were dead, and buried. Gone, just like that. It had been hard on her, more than on anyone else.

  "Do I really have to go school tomorrow?" she asked.

  "Yes." James kissed on the head. "You can do this, I know you can."

  A laughing child, a bright sun, a happy dog, a chirping bird, a clear sky, a beautiful song at the radio: it was the perfect wrong day for wishing to be dead.

  Feb. 26th

  Dear Diary,

  Tomorrow is back to school day, and I don't think I'll survive it.

  We went to the Carnival fest today and everyone was there, and by everyone I literally mean the whole town. They all know who I am, and what happened to my family, so my attempts at being invisible are totally worthless.

  I don't want people staring at me, and pitying me, and feeling sorry for me.

  I don't want people hugging me, talking to me, saying how sorry they are.

  They can't fix me. No one can. I'm broken beyond repair, but they just don't get it.

  H.

  FOUR

  The alarm clock rang at seven-thirty am, but Hayden was already wide awake. She turned it off and stared at the ceiling for a few more minutes.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  I can do this.

  She got up and silently tiptoed into the living room, hoping to avoid her brothers. As she entered the bathroom she heard James yell something that sounded like, "Hey, kiddo! You sure you don't want me to drop you off?"

  "Yeah!" she said before shutting the door close. He had been asking the same question for a week now, and the answer had always been the same. She had always ridden her bike to school, and if she had to go back to living a normal life, this had to be the first step. She wanted to feel strong. But her reflection in the mirror was anything but strong. She hated what she was seeing.

  "Let's just get this day over with," she told herself out loud.

  Getting ready for school was a bunch of mechanical actions and predetermined phases, nothing hard in that. She was used to doing it, she had been going to school every morning for ten years now, after all.

  So why had living become so unnatural?

  When she walked outside, backpack ready and everything, her brothers were there on the front porch waiting for her to leave, just like a parent would wait for his child to get on the bus on his very first day of school. But with no parent around, and no very first day of school either.

  "Doesn't anyone work around here?" she said as she got the bicycle.

  "In an hour," Will said, while pretending to read a week-old newspaper.

  "Want some coffee?" James said, handing her a mug with the hot beverage.

  "No thanks. I'm hoping to fall asleep on the desk so they send me home early thinking I've actually fainted or something."

  "Not funny."

  "Ain't laughing." She was sort of smiling though. "Well, see ya!"

  After a ten-minute bike ride, Hayden was outside her school. Everything was just as she had left it, yet it felt so different. The perception we have of our surroundings is shaped by our feelings, our mood, our pain and, lately, Hayden's scale of feelings went from cheerless to sad to somebody-kill-me-already. Nothing good can come out of that.

  Walking those usual corridors and trying to feel normal was even harder with everyone staring at you and whispering and acting like you are not you anymore.

  Hayden had never had many friends at school: they were just classmates, some closer than others, but she didn't define them as friends. She had always liked to hang out with her older brothers and their friends, she had always been a sort of tomboy because of this, the kind of kid that doesn't really attract girlfriends at school. This wasn't something she had thought about much in the past, having a close friend or that sort of best friend relationship had never interested her. Besides, if she were to choose between a 'let's go shopping' and a 'let's play a soccer game' invitation, she would definitely choose the latter... at any age. This is what happens when you grow up with three older brothers.

  But now she wished she had someone to rely on at school too. Someone who would walk next to her and help her ignore all those pitying eyes fixed on her.

  "Hey, how are you doing?" a red-headed boy from biology class asked her, while opening his locker.

  "I'm fine, thanks."

  Someone who knew better than to ask such questions.

  Someone who could remind me what class I have first period.

  Hayden wandered around the school corridors for five whole minutes before getting her Monday schedule back together, then she finally walked inside her history class. Her classmates were already sitting at their place, so she now had twenty-six eyes on her.

  "Hayden," Mrs Erin Wolf, the history teacher, greeted her in a friendly manner. "I didn't know you were coming back today. Good to see you, take a seat." "Sorry I'm late, I forgot what class I had," Hayden said, while putting her backpack on the ground and takin
g her usual seat next to Marika. The class laughed a little at that confession.

  "I'm happy you are back," Marika whispered to her, with a sincere smile.

  "Thanks, Rika," Hayden replied politely, wishing she could feel the same way.

  Lunch period came too soon, which meant social interaction, and Hayden was definitely not looking forward to that. She went to the cafeteria, grabbed a sandwich and walked out, careful to avoid looking at people waving in her direction as an invitation to go sit with them; just in case there were. Nothing good ever happens in cafeterias, and if you are lucky enough you get ignored. She headed to the bathroom at the second floor, pretty sure that she wouldn't meet any of her high school classmates there: wrong assumption. As she opened the door, two girls walked out: Ashley Dawson and Allyson Forth. Bumping into them was just something you wished would never happen to you, not on bad days, not on good days. Defining them as 'bullies' was simply diminishing. They, along with Kristina Calmond, were the worst girl-trio in town. Troublemakers, browbeaters, and bad lots. Drugs, alcohol and smoke were a must every night. They had been arrested a few times, too.

  "Well look who's here," said Ashley to her friend, not bothering to stop chewing her bright pink bubble gum. "You're the Wilson girl."

  "Yeah, that's me," said Hayden, while jostling her way into the bathroom. "Bye."

  "Not so fast," said Allyson while pulling her back. They were blocking her way on purpose. "What do you want?" asked Hayden, annoyed. The two girls exchanged a quick complicit glance, then a big smile appeared on their faces.

  "We want to help you, of course," and then they pushed her inside the girls' bathroom, locking the door. "Hey, leave me alone," yelled Hayden.

  "Oh come on, that ain't no way to speak to your friends," Allyson said.

  "We aren't friends." "Why not? You don't like us?" She was looking for a fight, but Hayden was not going to play along.

  "I don't need friends. That's all," Hayden said in a whisper, trying to avoid her last question.

  "Oh I see. You're going through that bad phase," said Ashley, rolling her eyes.

  "What phase?" asked Hayden, pretending to care. "The phase where after your whole world has been fucked up you go around feeling sorry for yourself and hating everything and everyone you encounter. Am I right?"

  "What do you care?"

  "I'll take that as a yes! Very well. Don't worry, we've got you covered!" said Ashley, bending down and taking something out from her black leather boots. It was a small transparent sachet, half full of white powder: cocaine. She handed it to Hayden.

  "You're kidding right? I don't want that stuff," she replied.

  "Hayden, listen to me: yes you do. You need it, you just don't know it yet. Trust us. We are your friends." She moved forward, took Hayden's hand and placed the sachet into her palm. That fake smile and look would never fool anyone, but there was something magnetic about her confidence and impudence that left Hayden speechless.

  "Well, we have to go now," said Allyson, unlocking the bathroom door. "Oh, and you can sit at lunch with us if you want tomorrow," she concluded in a mocking tone, dropping a hint to Hayden's take-away sandwich. Ashley laughed at that, and they walked out, leaving Hayden alone and confused.

  She turned to look at her reflection in the mirror, and the girl staring back was not someone she recognized. Not because she was holding a cocaine sachet, but because instead of throwing it away she hid it inside her coat pocket. The first of many wrong decisions to come.

  After all, they say that every journey starts with a single step, but they forget to mention that this goes also for the bad journeys. Just one wrong small step after the other, and the path to hell is soon paved.

  *****

  At three pm, when the last bell of the day finally rang, Hayden ran outside wishing to leave that crowded place in a hurry, overlooking the fact that a crowded mind follows you even in the loneliest places.

  But home was not going to be her next stop: there was something she had to do. It was a very cold winter, but despite the freezing temperatures, she rode her bike for thirty minutes until she reached her destination, the cemetery. She had never been to the town's cemetery before, nor any other graveyard for that matter, so it took her a few deep breaths and an instant of courage to walk past the gate entrance. The silence and stillness of that place made it incredibly surreal. One hundred acres of buried lives. One hundred acres of forgotten souls. The quietness was so loud that Hayden felt like her noisy movements were a violation. Even being alive felt somehow wrong; breathing an offense.

  She walked slowly around the headstones, curious about those unfamiliar engravings, timorous of finally encountering those familiar names. And after a short walk through those death corridors, she saw them. Two gravestones, next to each other, which stood out from the rest, because they looked new. They were new. A picture, a name, a date, an epitaph: is that all that sums up who we were in life?

  Hayden kept staring at those headstones, overwhelmed with so many emotions that it wasn't long before tears began pouring down her face. She bent down on her knees and cried, like she had never cried before. Sadness, loneliness, anger, despair, frustration, grief...it was all there.

  "I'm sorry," she kept repeating between sobs. She lay down on the cold marble ground, and cried herself to sleep.

  The cold evening wind brought her back to life. She got up, looked at the graves one last time, and decided it was time go back home.

  The cemetery was still empty, it had probably been like that for the whole afternoon. Her tears were over, but her heart was still not at the peace. Perhaps it was never going to be, and Hayden knew exactly why. There was more to her grief, her pain wasn't like her brothers'. There were things about that accident, about her mother's death, that no one else knew, besides her. Guilt was her parasite.

  It was already very dark when she left the cemetery and got on her bike, but she didn't bother looking at her phone to figure out what time it was: sometimes you just have to let go of time and let your life flow without a schedule.

  Leaving the cemetery only meant leaving the dead behind, but not their memory. She could hear their laugh, their embrace, their kisses, their words. They followed her everywhere. And it hurt to the point that she'd rather not feel anything. If they had to be dead, then they had to stop living in her memory. She rode her bike home very fast, as if she could get rid of the memories stalking her.

  FIVE

  When Hayden got home, her day went from bad to worse.

  "Where the hell have you been?!" James yelled the moment she walked inside. Apparently the three brothers had been waiting for her all afternoon.

  "Well, you're in a good mood," replied Hayden, while taking off her coat, not grasping his reasons for being mad.

  "Do you even know what time it is?" asked Will, not too mad and not too nicely, while getting up from the couch. He looked worried.

  "No, I didn't bother keeping track of time today." She didn't mean to sound arrogant, but it happened.

  "Oh I see. You were on a 'watch strike', did this even include not answering the phone?" James was really mad.

  "You called?" she asked innocently, while taking her phone out from her backpack. Seventeen missed calls. "Oops. The ring tone was off. I forgot about it."

  "Don't give me that! We were worried sick. I even came home early from work to look for you," James kept yelling.

  "We called everyone we know in town and no one had seen you after school... and then you show up at eight pm expecting me to keep calm? You know I can't even call the cops."

  "Look, I'm sorry. Okay?" she said. Fighting with her brothers was the last thing she wanted to do. "Just stop yelling at me. It's been a long day," she whispered, while taking a seat on the couch and closing her eyes. A few moments passed in silence, each sibling lost in their own train of thought.

  "How was school?" Mike asked in a friendly tone, trying to ease the tension. He was al
ways the one who tried to calm things down. Mike was just four years older than Hayden, so he was the one who remembered best what kind of nightmare school could be; Will and James were too old perhaps to recall their school years, so they rarely asked about her days.

  "A disaster," she sighed, while getting up and heading to her room. "I'm tired. Good night." "Hayden..."James held her by the arm so she couldn't walk away "Where have you been?" he asked. He wasn't angry anymore, just apprehensive and tired. She looked at him, and for the first time in weeks realized how much he had changed. He looked older, somehow. His eyes were sad. She wondered if it was the same sad look they saw in her eyes.

  "At the cemetery," she answered, and walked away. She felt the surprised and stunned looks her brothers exchanged follow her all the way to her room. Closing the door felt like literally shutting the whole world out. And Hayden needed that. Sometimes we shouldn't be alone, but we shouldn't be with the wrong company either, and those who are hurting just like you are, are not the right company. Or at least that's what she believed. Someone else's pain can't possibly heal yours, right? She was a broken vase surrounded by broken glass: damaged and dangerous at the same time. Midnight came, and so did dawn. But sleep did not. Hayden had been fully awake for the whole night, tossing and turning, and reading, and listening to her iPod, and reminiscing, and surfing the Internet, and staring at the ceiling. Not necessarily in this order, but you get the point. At five am, she got up and tiptoed outside her bedroom until she reached the room on the other side of the corridor. She hadn't been in there in a very long time, and she somehow felt now was the time to walk back inside it, and so she did. Everything in her parents' room was just like she remembered it, even the smell was the same. There was a book on her mother's bedside table, with the bookmark in the middle. A book that she was never going to get the chance to finish reading. A book quit halfway through, just like their lives. So many things die along with us and no one even notices.