Till We Rise

by Camila Cher Harmath

  I am glad she decided to call me Calypso over Aphrodite or Pandora, these were literally her second choices and if my father disliked them or not, he doesn’t give a shit about me, so I believe he did not even bother to argue about it.

  "Is it?" I say astonished.

  "Yeah, never heard of it. It is different, unique, and... I like it." I smile and the bell interrupts his response, although I can’t concentrate on his expression because I got distracted. I think it is disrespectful because this fucking noise indicates that we have to go to our classes right now, how dare you to interrupt our conversation? Yeah, I am talking about the bell, actually. I try to contain my anger to look like I am not that interested in him, which shit, I think I am. Don't get excited dumbass, no one will ever look at you the way you are looking at him.

  "I—I—I should go now," he states while staring at the hallway's floor.

  "Okay." I remain speechless; I bet I am looking like a total dork "Nice to meet you?" He looks up to me kind of amused when I confess this, but he doesn’t know that actually, it was really nice to meet him, and completely and extremely comforting to look at a face like his for a few minutes.

  "See ya," he says awkwardly fast, turns around and starts walking fast as if he wanted to leave me and start running. This is not a good sign.

  I find myself standing at the college hallway like a stupid and hopeless human being until I accidentally shout something stupid.

  "Theo." I regret this milliseconds later. Whatever.

  "Yes?" He turns around immediately and pulls a cute smirk.

  "Do you have middle name?" What did I just say?

  "Douglas."

  "Uh, Thanks."

  What the hell did just happen?

  CHAPTER TWO

  I spent the whole day thinking about what had happened earlier. Not because of the fact that I actually had serious social contact with a pretty nice human being but because I am wondering what he thinks about me; if he finds me attractive or nice. I need to ask him why he approached me.

  I know that we've met in the men's bathroom and it was a weird context and maybe he felt compelled to speak to me because come on, it is an attitude of a half-witted person to step into the wrong bathroom and actually doubt about that shit. It just amuses me that he did not escape from me or run away because he could, he could have run away; but he didn't.

  At the moment I am writing –or pretending that I am– an essay about religion and it's probably the worst subject to write about. Honestly, I don't have any problem with religious people but I just feel a little bit uncomfortable writing and giving my opinion about it.

  Everybody believes in whatever the heck they want to believe and THERE'S NOTHING WRONG ABOUT IT. I don't care if some people decide to be Christian or Jewish or Buddhist, we are all humans after all, you know. Believing in different Gods won't make a city or even a country more powerful than others; that's just what society thinks –and believes– nowadays because that's what everybody thought many centuries ago.

  Maybe I should write about this in my stupid essay; not about religion itself but my thoughts on it, so I might start writing on this shitty piece of paper.

  • • •

  My college day ends at twelve o'clock or so and after finishing my terrifying writing paper I leave class with everyone else, expecting to see him again. I always have lunch at home because I hate the Dining Hall obviously due to the fact I don’t have anyone to share lunch time with. However, I don’t really like the food, so it’s no big deal.

  I take a boring and long walk along the corridor while everybody is rushing and running desperately with no plausible reason. FOR THE SAKE OF PIZZA, classes are over, calm down, irrelevant people. I get frustrated at everything and everyone around me, while I continue walking at a really slow pace, I take some time to look for him and nevertheless, I am not successful. I thought I would see him again today, apparently I was wrong, and now I am dramatically walking to my car as if my pet had passed away right in between my arms, which is not even possible because (a) I am standing at the parking lot without a pet, and (b) I don't have a pet.

  I am blowing out the proportions of the whole situation due to my ease on overreacting to everything, and I kind of realize that I need some goddamned therapy. I seriously need some help. I am just wondering: If I am this flipped out because of some shitty conversation, I can't even imagine how I will act if I get kissed by someone. I've made out with guys, of course, but I've never had a real kiss. The "action" happened only at parties, and it felt like utter crap. I wasn't ever under any condition accurately kissed, like with true feelings and all that cheesy stuff. I wish I had, though.

  I reach my Chevrolet, open the door emotionless and get inside. I realize not only that it's still raining but also that the awesome BMW is not parked beside my car anymore; it's gone, evaporated. You see, everybody leaves me. You see, that's me overreacting again.

  I turn on the radio and one of those silly boy bands is playing. I turn off the radio. No offense dudes but I don't want to listen to your senseless and catchy song because I am that kind of person that that will sing a song heard only once, ALL DAY LONG. I don't know why I turned on the radio in the first place.

  I hate the whole way back home, driving makes me feel fatigued, especially on rainy days like today. I wish I had a personal driver capable of taking me wherever I want, whenever I desire to and with whoever I wish to go. I could actually sleep longer because I would be able to take little naps on the way to college. I wonder if they wait outside your door all night long... What if I want to go to Taco Bell at 3 am? I would just be in my pajamas like: Hey you, cabbie, let's go get some burritos. That would be rad. I bet Lisa has a cabbie herself.

  I arrive home and basically run towards the door because it seems that a waterfall has decided to fall from the fucking gray sky. Excuse me, but if I want to get soaked I just take a bath.

  "MOOOM," I yell, waiting for an answer although I know there won’t be any. I walk through the living room to get to the kitchen while I throw all my stuff –including my backpack, phones and keys– to somewhere on the floor near the sofa and then make a second attempt on calling my mom. I fail, again.

  I am starving because of those dumb thoughts I had on my way back home about Taco Bell, and now I desperately crave an effing burrito, along with the fact that not knowing how to prepare myself a sandwich makes me crave Mexican food even harder. There isn’t even a slight chance of me to get some take away food, therefore cutting all the comedy. I think I am going to lie on the floor and eat baby carrots.

  "Sweetie, sweetie, hi," I hear my mom mumbling in a really low voice, I could barely hear her. "What are yo—"

  "Oh, Sarah. Finally," I interrupt her without even trying to stand up from the floor. I look at her indifferently and for a couple of seconds she stares back at me astonished and then confused.

  "Hi mom! How are you? I love you so much, I missed you today at college," She tries to impersonate my voice and obviously fails. I find that thing about moms really funny; they look at their children as if they were babies forever. My odds are that I would be 42 years old and she will still talk to me as if I was in kindergarten learning how to spell my name.

  "Mother, that was not funny," It wasn't, actually.

  "Okay, okay. How was your day, hun?"

  Today I met a boy and I actually talked to him and he seemed interested in me but I just really want to know why he approached me and now all this shit is making up a mess in my head and I can't think about anything else. "Fine, I guess?" I manage to say. I sound totally unconvincing.

  "You guess?" she asks doubtfully.

  "Yeah mom, whatever." Little pause "Where were you?" I inquire while eating another tasteless baby carrot. I realize that I don't even like this vegetable anymore.

  "I was taking a bath," Mom answers. That explains her wet hair and that weird towel look.

  "Sure... And what about this morning? I didn’t see you either," I aske
d her again. I don’t really care where she was, I am talking to her because I just feel like talking, but honestly I wish I was in complete silence.

  "Is this an investigation?" she pulls a mysterious look as if I genuinely care about where she was this morning.

  "No."

  "I prepared your breakfast and then went back to sleep."

  "Okay."

  "By the way, Calypso, what are you doing and why are you eating on the floor?" She is asking precisely the same thing in two different questions. What I am doing? Eating on the floor. Why I am eating on the floor? I don't know, to be honest, but the second question is literally the answer for question number one.

  "Um, I don't know." I stare at my can of carrots, pull myself together, manage to stand up, sigh, look at mom and keep my stability all at the same time. That was a tough duty for a gloomy person like me.

  I don't feel like eating orange little things from a can anymore so I just put it back into the fridge. Sarah's still looking directly at me and I am starting to feel utterly annoyed by her motherly presence.

  While closing the refrigerator I state, "Sarah, I just want to mention that—"

  "I don't like when you call me Sarah. I am not a friend of yours," she interrupts me and I am feeling more than annoyed this time.

  "Ugh mom. Okay," I gasp "Mommy, your obsession with weird names was really, like, helpful today." I am feeling totally awkward at this moment; I hate being cheesy and saying mommy and expressing my feelings towards her. I feel completely like another person. I find it comforting to keep my emotions to myself.

  "Why?" She seems really interested.

  "Because."

  "But what happened?" she asks and leans on the counter, staring curious directly at me.

  "Um, nothing," I lie trying to sound convincing.

  "Can you please tell me?" she begs me and pulls an awful puppy-face while trying to persuade me that she actually needs to know what's wrong and the truth is that she doesn't.

  "Is this an investigation?" I attempt to do an imitation of her.

  "No." She does the same as me trying to imitate what I said earlier.

  "Okay. I said nothing," I repeat, feeling completely disturbed with this conversation.

  "You can talk to me."

  "BUT IT WAS NOTHING." I am absolutely annoyed at this moment of the conversation. I wish it was already over, to be honest.

  My mom always does the same thing; she insists and insists about something until she gets what she wants. This time she would not get it.

  "Why are you constantly avoiding me?" she demands and gives a big sigh. I look towards my mom and somehow I feel a little bit sorry for her because she is one hundred percent right. My daily basis consists in (1) waking up, (2) going to college and (3) ignoring my mom; I regularly succeed in numbers one and two but number three is partially impossible to achieve.

  "You are right, mom," I admit. "I just don't wanna talk about it right now but I promise I will." I am making this whole thing a big thing and it's not even a thing; it's just me filling my mind with complete lies.

  "Sometime," I add later.

  "Sorry." I approach her and give her a cold but still nice hug, placing my head on the crook of her neck like I did when I was a little girl.

  "It's okay, baby." Baby? Really, baby? Sarah says while petting my back as if I actually were a fucking baby. She doesn't release me for a minute or so and I start feeling extremely uncomfortable.

  "Mom...” I mumble.

  "Yes?" she asks innocently.

  "I can't breathe." She finally sets me free and while pulling an enormous smile she looks directly at my eyes. She seems happy; like a proud mother; don't even ask me why she would be proud of a daughter like me because I don't really have a coherent answer.

  I pull her an I-don't-know-what-to-do-right-now smile and then turn unconsciously my gaze to the stairs as if I desired them or something like it.

  "You may go to your room now," she insisted nicely. I nod with a smirk and start walking to my bedroom.

  I never appreciate my mom; she’s always there for me, tries to impress me, asks me stupid things just to have something to talk about, she rarely complains about my plans or what I do, barely argues with me, she supports me even when I don’t need support and she manages to make me laugh with her awful jokes that are not even funny but still I laugh at them. The most important thing is that she plays the role of mother and father at the same time because she wants her daughter to have a normal and nice life regardless all the shit we’ve been through together and tries really hard to keep me happy and emotionally stable.

  Unfortunately, I have this teenager’s ability to look down on my mother and despise her, but it’s just a phase of my life that I will —and have to— overcome as time goes by. I can affirm that when I become fully mature and grown up I will be able to express to my mom everything and show a little bit more of interest in her but now I personally think it’s against the law. I am a teenager and I am supposed to keep certain distance from my parents; well, actually from my mother.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gift from God. He definitely is one.

  Tuesday, and by "Tuesday" I mean another day of college. I am relieved that it's not raining anymore because rain reduces my chances to get out of bed.

  The daily routine drives me mad and yet, I never try to make something different to change it.

  Like I did yesterday, and every single week day of the past few months; I get out of bed, take a bath and put some makeup on to cover the bags under my blue eyes. As I get myself prepared I realize I had a really nice sleep, and I also dreamt I had a dad. I barely talk about the absence of my father because I really don't care, I don't have a dad, and I never will.

  It's not the coldest day of the year so I am not that annoyed about the weather Actually, I can wear a more decent and nicer outfit on days like these, instead of looking like a fat whale because of all the big and warm clothes.

  I put on my underwear, my favorite high-waisted denim pants, a white loose t-shirt and on top of it a furry black pullover. I take a look at myself in the mirror and afterwards go directly downstairs to have my breakfast alone, as my mother decided from now on to prepare it for me and then go back to sleep again. Wonderful.

  My breakfast was already over the dining table; French toast, a bowl of Cheerios with some milk and my lovely and warm latte. I actually prefer to drink 5 lattes instead of eating the whole breakfast, though.

  The fact mom isn't there to share the first few minutes of the day makes me really sad and kind of depressed, as if she doesn't really care that much about me because I can actually prepare my own breakfast, I mean, I am not that stupid but I wish she was there for me, giving me some moral support to go to college. To be honest, I might be exaggerating a little bit, but this situation makes the beginning of the day deadly awful; sitting at the table all by myself is just disheartening.

  I turn on the TV and watch some news, which are deadly awful too, and wish this fucking day is already over. I am being really selfish because at the moment, I am watching some news about wars, deaths and terrible stuff, and I should feel grateful about my life instead of basically wishing I was not a living human being anymore.

  At exactly 6:40 I leave home –and then I wonder why I hate being routinary– leaving behind a huge mess in the kitchen. As I get into the car I try not to freak out thinking that the worst-talking seriously-part of the day is yet to come.

  I really make too much of every situation, I should stop being so ridiculously exaggerated it is even starting to bother myself from time to time.

  Roth is standing at the college entrance beside many other people, and I glance directly at him from inside my car, when he sees me arrive he smiles at me and waits for me to park. I get out of the car and start walking slowly.

  "Hey buddy, I missed you yesterday," I say and hug him tight. He is my only and truly friend, and the fact that I am not his only friend makes me really sad. W
hy can't I make friends easily like him? I have this stupid habit of pushing people away, I wonder why Roth is always beside me and doesn’t walk away like everyone else does. Theodore came up to my mind, and I realize I am staring at the floor with a look of sadness.

  "Me too, Cal," he poorly smiles at me and few seconds later he furrows his forehead, "It’s everything okay?" Roth adds with a tone of curiosity.

  "I’m fine," I mutter, "Just thinking about things." I feel a little bit awkward at the moment, don’t know why.

  I walk past the main entrance and find myself in a crowded and noisy place where everyone is walking in more than hundred different directions; this is another fact why I hate college so much, I find crowds slightly annoying. I try not to focus on my pursuit of that thing I was thinking about several seconds ago and try to set my mind on another thing.

  “Why didn’t you come yesterday?”

  "Cause I had, um, something to do." I can't figure out if he is feeling embarrassed, confused or mortified. "I am sorry I didn't tell you I wasn't coming."

  "Woah, mysterious boy," I babble pounding my fist on his right shoulder. "What do you mean by something to do, huh?" I start laughing hysterically.

  "We should get going, it’s five to seven already, and I don’t want to be late, so if you mind." He avoids my question and starts walking silently towards the classroom.

  "Yeah, whatever," I say and follow him all the way down to the class. That doesn’t mean that I will not ask him about it later.

  Roth and I met the first day of college, we are both studying the same career but I don’t know why am still studying Cultural Studies because I don’t really enjoy it and instead of doing it, I have a bad relationship with most of the teachers.

  I kind of feel attached to college because I don’t want to disappoint my mom. If it were my choice I would definitely be sleeping all day long, but I can’t; my love and respect for her is even stronger than my wishes for leaving college and do absolutely nothing about my life.