It’s a terror plot
To have them dodging bombs
And tasting dirt
They have to stand the heat
Even when
Their performance is covered up
By pioneers who’ve died fighting
And those with cancer
All trying to rid the monsters
Their headaches fizzle
As they discover unfinished symphonies
They take a flying leap
To interact
It’s the next big thing
Less pressure comes
From bold hospitality
It comes from the comfort
Of lullabies and vacations
It’s a mystery
And we can only survive
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
We all Have Weird Habits
We all have weird habits,
I am no exception
I pluck out my eyelashes
Whenever I wear mascara,
It’s awful because
I love luscious lashes.
I scream every time
Someone pops a balloon.
The unexpected noise
Always gets me
I have ADD
With my rings.
I take them off,
Then put them back on
And do the same thing again
And whenever I paint my nails,
I pick off the polish,
And soon as they dry
and re-paint them again.
But what my family makes fun of me the most
is the way I sneeze.
You know how you can feel a sneeze coming?
Well, whenever I get that
tickling sensation inside my nose,
I scrunch up my face
and stick my tongue
out as far as it can go.
Then I wait with my eyes closed,
usually for a couple of seconds.
Those seconds are enough
to make people stare at my face.
I bet you can imagine
how ridiculous I look.
My eyes nothing but slivers
and my tongue is touching my chin.
But I can’t help it
it’s just a natural reaction for me.
I am no exception
I pluck out my eyelashes
Whenever I wear mascara,
It’s awful because
I love luscious lashes.
I scream every time
Someone pops a balloon.
The unexpected noise
Always gets me
I have ADD
With my rings.
I take them off,
Then put them back on
And do the same thing again
And whenever I paint my nails,
I pick off the polish,
And soon as they dry
and re-paint them again.
But what my family makes fun of me the most
is the way I sneeze.
You know how you can feel a sneeze coming?
Well, whenever I get that
tickling sensation inside my nose,
I scrunch up my face
and stick my tongue
out as far as it can go.
Then I wait with my eyes closed,
usually for a couple of seconds.
Those seconds are enough
to make people stare at my face.
I bet you can imagine
how ridiculous I look.
My eyes nothing but slivers
and my tongue is touching my chin.
But I can’t help it
it’s just a natural reaction for me.
Stream of Conscious: Mad
Mad, Angry, Upset
Nothing is going as planned
I got the test back
And it wasn’t what I thought
Those answers
Were not the right ones
We lost the game
After our efforts to win
Playing our hardest
Sweating from the heat
She said no
When I asked
To go out
When I said why
She turned it on me
And it was my fault
Mad at my parents
And my brother
For ganging up against me
Angry with myself
For letting their words
Sink in
Tears stream down and mad
Turns to sad
Then they feel sorry
And want to make it up
It’s the opposite of joy,
Happiness,
And love
Us girls
We switch back and forth
Our emotions swirling
All of a sudden
It’s an extremity
Causing hate and despair
But when they are mad at me
It’s a whole other story
I don’t know what to do
I shiver and shake
Wanting someone else
To take the blame
Uncertain whether to back off
Or stay closer
Mad like crazy
My grandmother too
Insane is what she is
Its again leads to sadness
And hate and anger
A rush of feelings
Too much to handle
Nothing is going as planned
I got the test back
And it wasn’t what I thought
Those answers
Were not the right ones
We lost the game
After our efforts to win
Playing our hardest
Sweating from the heat
She said no
When I asked
To go out
When I said why
She turned it on me
And it was my fault
Mad at my parents
And my brother
For ganging up against me
Angry with myself
For letting their words
Sink in
Tears stream down and mad
Turns to sad
Then they feel sorry
And want to make it up
It’s the opposite of joy,
Happiness,
And love
Us girls
We switch back and forth
Our emotions swirling
All of a sudden
It’s an extremity
Causing hate and despair
But when they are mad at me
It’s a whole other story
I don’t know what to do
I shiver and shake
Wanting someone else
To take the blame
Uncertain whether to back off
Or stay closer
Mad like crazy
My grandmother too
Insane is what she is
Its again leads to sadness
And hate and anger
A rush of feelings
Too much to handle
The Rovers
When it comes to cars, my family is a little bit crazy. For a while, we were not the typical family that has a mom-like SUV and a dad’s nice car. We were not even the kind of family that has a few different cars. Range Rovers were our thing. We had three. They were all made in the year 1995 or before, and looked identical to one another. Two of them were black, but one was long wheel based and the other was short. We called the long one “Long” and the short one “Short.” Our third was a dark green, which still looks black in most light. My brother named it after a Bratz doll he had when he was like three years old, and we called it “Blaze.”
It’s not like there is something so great about these Range Rovers that we had to have three of them. In truth, they are pretty bad cars. We spent more money fixing them up in the shop than what they were worth. They aren’t very reliable, and very often overheat when we drive up Dallas Divide. When you are driving them, it’s almost as if you were steering a truck. They can go about sixty on a good day, but anymore than that they begin to shake.
But for some odd reason, my dad loves them. Either that or he is stuck in a rut, unable to sell them or buy anything new. He is emotionally attached to these pieces of metal, and I have even seen him talk to them as if they were humans.
After a few years living in Telluride, we decided three cars was one too many. I couldn’t drive yet and our driveway at home only fit two anyway. My dad got up the courage and decided to sell one. He chose Short, the oldest one, and sold it to a young fellow who worked at a local restaurant. My mom, brother, and I were excited to let Short go, but it wasn’t so easy on my dad.
For the longest time we made it through our daily routines with the two rattling cars until something clicked in my dad’s brain. It was around November, a few months away from when I would be getting my permit. I was accompanying my dad on his walk to the mine when we started talking about cars.
“I want to get you a nice, safe car to drive,” my dad said.
And my immediate response was, “Anything but a Range Rover.” My dream car was an Audi A4 Convertible, stick shift of course. I had never driven one or even been in one for that matter, but I wanted one so badly. Later that month on our way home from Aspen, we stopped in Glenwood Springs to test drive some cars at the Audi dealer. I hadn’t got my permit yet, so I was just a passenger in the red Audi with the slick black leather seats. I could feel the excitement each time my dad shifted into a lower gear, going faster and faster down I-70.
“Wow this car is nice,” my dad admitted.
“Little better than a Range Rover, right?” I joked.
The whole drive home we talked about cars. My mom thought it was “inappropriate” for me to be driving a car that nice; she was the one who needed a new car. She kept trying to tell me that I should get something more substantial, something that will work wonders in the snow. I did agree with her theories, but it was hard for me to picture myself in a different car.
Later in the year, my mom’s words had gotten to me. I said something to my dad about how it would probably be better to have an SUV. I figured a bigger car may be safer for a new driver like me and also I did not want any problems in the winter storms. Immediately my dad started rambling on about his top choices for an SUV. Obviously Range Rovers were still at the top of his list, but he did mention a few other models made by Land Rover that I began to consider. Back when one of our old cars was getting worked on, the car company would send us a “loner” car. We got one almost every time our car went in, and sometimes we would end up keeping it for months. It was always a Land Rover, but usually ten times nicer and newer than ours. I remembered that those cars were like heaven compared to our junk, and I actually would be blessed just to get anything but a fifteen year old car. I didn’t know at the time, but over the next few nights my dad went online and looked for deals on pre-owned Discoveries. He still remembered my desire for an Audi, and therefore he would look for good deals on them as well. Every now and then, he would show me a picture of a car he found, but after a while I stopped caring. I had come to the conclusion, after all our talk, that I didn’t need a car. Of course my dad paid no attention to me, and a few days later went on to purchase a silver Discovery, 2004, without my knowledge of it. It was a Land Rover just like our other cars, but because of the newer model, it was a lot nicer.
I came home from hockey late one night, starving and ready for dinner. I was a few months before my birthday, but on my place setting lay a little box that read “Zia Sun” on the cover.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused as to what it could possibly be.
“Open it!” My mom urged.
“Does she know what it is?” Benni asked in his ten year old baby voice.
I pealed off the tape and opened the tiny blue earring box to find keys inside. Car keys. My eyes widened and my parents said “Happy Birthday” in unison. I ran to the window to look for the new car, which I somehow had not seen on my way home.
“Oh. My. God!” I gushed, and ran out the front door to the silver Discovery. I didn’t care that it wasn’t the Audi I had longed for, this was better. My whole family was outside, making a commotion, making sure I loved it (which of course I did). Névé, my long term boyfriend, drove up just as we were all piling into the new car, me in the driver’s seat, for a test drive. Névé hopped in shotgun while my family piled in the back, and I put the car in drive and headed down the street.
I hadn’t really driven a car before, so it was kind of interesting. I ran a few stop signs, jerked a bit, and went a little to fast on the fifteen-mile-an-hour streets. But I was mesmerized. I was unable to be behind the wheel for another month or so, but with a smooth new car, I enjoyed tagging along in the passenger seat for the ride.
It’s not like there is something so great about these Range Rovers that we had to have three of them. In truth, they are pretty bad cars. We spent more money fixing them up in the shop than what they were worth. They aren’t very reliable, and very often overheat when we drive up Dallas Divide. When you are driving them, it’s almost as if you were steering a truck. They can go about sixty on a good day, but anymore than that they begin to shake.
But for some odd reason, my dad loves them. Either that or he is stuck in a rut, unable to sell them or buy anything new. He is emotionally attached to these pieces of metal, and I have even seen him talk to them as if they were humans.
After a few years living in Telluride, we decided three cars was one too many. I couldn’t drive yet and our driveway at home only fit two anyway. My dad got up the courage and decided to sell one. He chose Short, the oldest one, and sold it to a young fellow who worked at a local restaurant. My mom, brother, and I were excited to let Short go, but it wasn’t so easy on my dad.
For the longest time we made it through our daily routines with the two rattling cars until something clicked in my dad’s brain. It was around November, a few months away from when I would be getting my permit. I was accompanying my dad on his walk to the mine when we started talking about cars.
“I want to get you a nice, safe car to drive,” my dad said.
And my immediate response was, “Anything but a Range Rover.” My dream car was an Audi A4 Convertible, stick shift of course. I had never driven one or even been in one for that matter, but I wanted one so badly. Later that month on our way home from Aspen, we stopped in Glenwood Springs to test drive some cars at the Audi dealer. I hadn’t got my permit yet, so I was just a passenger in the red Audi with the slick black leather seats. I could feel the excitement each time my dad shifted into a lower gear, going faster and faster down I-70.
“Wow this car is nice,” my dad admitted.
“Little better than a Range Rover, right?” I joked.
The whole drive home we talked about cars. My mom thought it was “inappropriate” for me to be driving a car that nice; she was the one who needed a new car. She kept trying to tell me that I should get something more substantial, something that will work wonders in the snow. I did agree with her theories, but it was hard for me to picture myself in a different car.
Later in the year, my mom’s words had gotten to me. I said something to my dad about how it would probably be better to have an SUV. I figured a bigger car may be safer for a new driver like me and also I did not want any problems in the winter storms. Immediately my dad started rambling on about his top choices for an SUV. Obviously Range Rovers were still at the top of his list, but he did mention a few other models made by Land Rover that I began to consider. Back when one of our old cars was getting worked on, the car company would send us a “loner” car. We got one almost every time our car went in, and sometimes we would end up keeping it for months. It was always a Land Rover, but usually ten times nicer and newer than ours. I remembered that those cars were like heaven compared to our junk, and I actually would be blessed just to get anything but a fifteen year old car. I didn’t know at the time, but over the next few nights my dad went online and looked for deals on pre-owned Discoveries. He still remembered my desire for an Audi, and therefore he would look for good deals on them as well. Every now and then, he would show me a picture of a car he found, but after a while I stopped caring. I had come to the conclusion, after all our talk, that I didn’t need a car. Of course my dad paid no attention to me, and a few days later went on to purchase a silver Discovery, 2004, without my knowledge of it. It was a Land Rover just like our other cars, but because of the newer model, it was a lot nicer.
I came home from hockey late one night, starving and ready for dinner. I was a few months before my birthday, but on my place setting lay a little box that read “Zia Sun” on the cover.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused as to what it could possibly be.
“Open it!” My mom urged.
“Does she know what it is?” Benni asked in his ten year old baby voice.
I pealed off the tape and opened the tiny blue earring box to find keys inside. Car keys. My eyes widened and my parents said “Happy Birthday” in unison. I ran to the window to look for the new car, which I somehow had not seen on my way home.
“Oh. My. God!” I gushed, and ran out the front door to the silver Discovery. I didn’t care that it wasn’t the Audi I had longed for, this was better. My whole family was outside, making a commotion, making sure I loved it (which of course I did). Névé, my long term boyfriend, drove up just as we were all piling into the new car, me in the driver’s seat, for a test drive. Névé hopped in shotgun while my family piled in the back, and I put the car in drive and headed down the street.
I hadn’t really driven a car before, so it was kind of interesting. I ran a few stop signs, jerked a bit, and went a little to fast on the fifteen-mile-an-hour streets. But I was mesmerized. I was unable to be behind the wheel for another month or so, but with a smooth new car, I enjoyed tagging along in the passenger seat for the ride.
Abstract Poem
Across the street
I saw her walking
In prim high heel boots
Strolling along
Her head held high
Like she was better
Than everyone else
I saw the blue gum
That lay in her path
And knew she would make contact
Even before it happened
I watched her left tow
Squash the gum
And stick to her shoe
Like glue
I could see the anger
And annoyance in her eyes
Gum on her new
Leather boots
I saw the uncertainty
Of what to do next
She wasn’t going to touch it
But she wouldn’t dare leave it
The incident brought
Her back to reality
She was no longer
The high class woman
That she used to be
Her leather boots
Were now dirty with gum
She was frustrated
To say the least
I saw her walking
In prim high heel boots
Strolling along
Her head held high
Like she was better
Than everyone else
I saw the blue gum
That lay in her path
And knew she would make contact
Even before it happened
I watched her left tow
Squash the gum
And stick to her shoe
Like glue
I could see the anger
And annoyance in her eyes
Gum on her new
Leather boots
I saw the uncertainty
Of what to do next
She wasn’t going to touch it
But she wouldn’t dare leave it
The incident brought
Her back to reality
She was no longer
The high class woman
That she used to be
Her leather boots
Were now dirty with gum
She was frustrated
To say the least
Narrative Poem: Fizzles
I watched her from afar
Grab his soda can
It seemed a little bizarre
Because this was her man
It was probably meant
To be a silly joke
But from the way it went
It seemed like she wanted to hide in an invisible cloak
He didn’t see her shake it
Because he was looking the other way
But soon after he had a fit
And she didn’t know what to say
As he opened the can
The pressure let out
And her man
Just shout!
The bubbles rocketed all over the place
On his jeans and his shirt
On his hands and even his face!
Sadly, he just looked hurt.
He was all sticky
With the soda goo
And I imagine he felt all icky
And didn’t know what to do
The force of the fizz
Made it shoot ten feet up
Her face was more shocked than his
After the whole blowup
It began to dry
And bubbles to pop
I thought he was going to cry
And I saw her face drop
It was supposed to be funny
And they were supposed to be having fun
But now it wasn’t even sunny
And it was clear they were done
Grab his soda can
It seemed a little bizarre
Because this was her man
It was probably meant
To be a silly joke
But from the way it went
It seemed like she wanted to hide in an invisible cloak
He didn’t see her shake it
Because he was looking the other way
But soon after he had a fit
And she didn’t know what to say
As he opened the can
The pressure let out
And her man
Just shout!
The bubbles rocketed all over the place
On his jeans and his shirt
On his hands and even his face!
Sadly, he just looked hurt.
He was all sticky
With the soda goo
And I imagine he felt all icky
And didn’t know what to do
The force of the fizz
Made it shoot ten feet up
Her face was more shocked than his
After the whole blowup
It began to dry
And bubbles to pop
I thought he was going to cry
And I saw her face drop
It was supposed to be funny
And they were supposed to be having fun
But now it wasn’t even sunny
And it was clear they were done
Summer '09
We were wide awake at night, looking up at the southern sky, flooded with stars. Laying in our hammocks arranged in a triangle, the Triangle of Love as we called it, we giggled as we watched above for shooting stars. After the first night we had all become best friends. It was like we had known each other forever. Wells was there, sitting on the deck, pointing out Scorpio, Hercules and the Northern Crown.
“See those ones right there?” He would say.
“Yea,” I always said, even if I didn’t know which of the billions he was pointing to.
The stars would glisten on the ocean’s waves, which were calm now. The laughter and conversations would subside, and one by one I would watch the others put their head phones in to drown out the banging sounds that Gigi made. The ropes would bang against the mast with every gust of wind, but eventually I would get used to the random knocks and it would seem calming. I enjoyed listening to the waves crash upon the shore and an unusual animal wailing in the distance. The sounds put me in a peaceful state; I just felt so lucky to be where I was. Every now and then we would whisper to each other, not knowing who was listening. Eventually the exhaustion from the dives and the heat would catch up to us, and we would be asleep in an instant. Some nights it would begin to pour in the middle of the night. We would hide in our sleeping bags, hoping it would be gone in a minute or so, until we realized it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. By the time we were already soaked, everyone would quickly gather up all their wet belongings and make a mad dash down the stairs to get the best spot on the couch. I would wake up mid morning not knowing where I was. After realizing it must have rained and I ran down below half asleep, I would get up and return to my spot in the hammock. It was to claustrophobic downstairs in the humid, crowded space, that it was a relief to go up on deck at last. Slowly everyone would return to their hammocks. Some didn’t even wake up to get to shelter during the rain. Sarah was the worst. She was the deepest sleeper I knew and never woke up during the storms. “Thanks for waking me,” she would say, sarcastically of course.
But my favorite times happened when there were no dark clouds filled with moisture in the sky and we made it through the entire night on deck. It was the silence and isolation of being in the middle of the ocean that made it so serene. As dusk grew closer, sounds of seagulls were the only noise. I would feel the sprinkles of rain on my shoulders; it almost tickled me. We would try and hide under our covers for another hour or so until it was time for our day to start. The sun would start to shine in the distance over the horizon and light up the sky. The rain would let up and the warmth would get us out of our sleeping bags. I would run down to my room and put on a suit, for it was already to hot to wear anything more.
“See those ones right there?” He would say.
“Yea,” I always said, even if I didn’t know which of the billions he was pointing to.
The stars would glisten on the ocean’s waves, which were calm now. The laughter and conversations would subside, and one by one I would watch the others put their head phones in to drown out the banging sounds that Gigi made. The ropes would bang against the mast with every gust of wind, but eventually I would get used to the random knocks and it would seem calming. I enjoyed listening to the waves crash upon the shore and an unusual animal wailing in the distance. The sounds put me in a peaceful state; I just felt so lucky to be where I was. Every now and then we would whisper to each other, not knowing who was listening. Eventually the exhaustion from the dives and the heat would catch up to us, and we would be asleep in an instant. Some nights it would begin to pour in the middle of the night. We would hide in our sleeping bags, hoping it would be gone in a minute or so, until we realized it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. By the time we were already soaked, everyone would quickly gather up all their wet belongings and make a mad dash down the stairs to get the best spot on the couch. I would wake up mid morning not knowing where I was. After realizing it must have rained and I ran down below half asleep, I would get up and return to my spot in the hammock. It was to claustrophobic downstairs in the humid, crowded space, that it was a relief to go up on deck at last. Slowly everyone would return to their hammocks. Some didn’t even wake up to get to shelter during the rain. Sarah was the worst. She was the deepest sleeper I knew and never woke up during the storms. “Thanks for waking me,” she would say, sarcastically of course.
But my favorite times happened when there were no dark clouds filled with moisture in the sky and we made it through the entire night on deck. It was the silence and isolation of being in the middle of the ocean that made it so serene. As dusk grew closer, sounds of seagulls were the only noise. I would feel the sprinkles of rain on my shoulders; it almost tickled me. We would try and hide under our covers for another hour or so until it was time for our day to start. The sun would start to shine in the distance over the horizon and light up the sky. The rain would let up and the warmth would get us out of our sleeping bags. I would run down to my room and put on a suit, for it was already to hot to wear anything more.
Short Story
It was a day just like any other. The sun rose at 7:03, right on schedule. The light poured through the blinds of his bedroom, creating streaks along the sea blue walls. The chirps of the neighborhood’s sparrows made the morning feel alive. It was amazing how many people were up this early. The paper boy had already completed his loop. The stay-at-home moms had already walked their dogs. And the working husbands were on their way, driving their Mercedes, to the city for a day at work.
Jason lived in a suburb where all the houses looked like miniature doll homes, and each was the same. It was just the four of them in the toy house: mom, dad, and Jules. Their relationships weren’t typical, and they were bound together by Jason’s countless outbursts. Jason’s condition has been following him since his fifth birthday. Some mornings he wakes up fine, he feels great, and nothing goes wrong. But with a rare form of Bipolar Disorder, things can change in an instant for Jason.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
“Ugh,” Jason groaned as the piercing sound of his alarm filled the silent room. He hit the snooze button and shut his eyes, hoping to drift off and forget that he would be forced out of bed in the next few minutes. He silently hoped today would be a good day. Why? He thought to himself. Why can’t summer just go on for one more day? He heard his door slip open, just like it does every morning when Tiger jumps off his bed to get his own day started. The shaggy dog had left behind a layer of himself, but Jason didn’t mind the white fluff that covered his navy duvet. He actually loved the company at night and the heat from Tiger’s eighty-five pound body.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beeeepppp.
Jason blindly smacked his nightstand, hoping to hit the button for the damn alarm to silence itself. Normally it wasn’t this hard for him to get out of bed, but just the thought of sitting in a classroom all day instead of hiking around the town with his friends made him feel sick. He rolled over, not to fall back asleep, but instead to go over everything he needed to remember to bring to school. Binders, paper, pens...Oh! Wait, what is my schedule again? I know my locker combination. It is 09-23-36. Ok ok, I should really go get up now.
With that, Jason popped up out of bed, suddenly full of energy, and walked into his bathroom. He undressed and jumped into his steam shower, which is clearly the only thing he looked forward to every morning. The water rushed down his body as the steam filled the bathroom with hot, moist air. After soaking up the water for a good ten more minutes, Jason turned the water pressure off and towel dried his wet skin. The mirrors were fogged, the air was humid, and the tiles had a layer of moisture on them, just the way Jason liked it. A gust of cold air hit his face as he opened the connecting door into his room. The sudden chill shocked him, but in a good way. He proceeded to get dressed in his personal uniform: distressed jeans, a t-shirt three sizes too large, and his favorite Burton striped hoodie.
He walked down the hall and down the wooden stairs to where his mom and little sister were sitting, chatting about the excitement of the first day of school. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the two of them, already annoyed at his little sister for being so overly happy.
“Morning Jay, how are you feeling today?” He heard his mom say with a smile on her face, happy to be back in the rhythm of things.
“Morning Mom, just a bit tired. Hey Jules,” he heard himself say in response.
He wandered past the table they were sitting at into the kitchen to grab some coffee.
“Why don’t you eat something too, Jay. It is your first day of school, and I don’t want my growing boy to get hungry,” his mom yelled from the other room. Jason ignored her. He came out of the kitchen, a bag of Chex Mix in hand, and walked passed their table to lie on the couch. “Um no, you are not having Chex Mix for breakfast. Let me toast you a bagel at least,” she offered. And without a response from Jason, she got up, sliced a bagel, and put it in the toaster.
“Mom, aren’t we going to be late for school? We should go. Jason, are you ready?” Jules excitement was too much for Jason to handle. She was going to be a seventh grader. Big deal. Middle school sucks anyway. Jules had her dark brown hair perfectly straightened, and Jason even noticed that she was wearing mascara. Her outfit was one that she had picked out back in August, when Grandma took them both back-to-school shopping. It was a bit ridiculous, comical even. Jason knew the only reason she was so excited was because she wanted to see Harry, the boy she had been crushing on since last year.
Jason’s mom handed him the unwanted bagel with his daily pills and kissed him on his forehead like he was ten years old. “My little boy is growing up,” she said, her tone a bit sad. Jason was about to begin his junior year. It was the most important year in high school, or so everyone kept saying. Jason wasn’t that outstanding straight A student like Jules, but he did try and teachers generally liked him. His best bet for college would be either a soccer or lacrosse scholarship, and his coaches told him that would be likely.
“Ok Jules, go get in the car, I will be right out,” Jason said at last. Jules leaped out of her seat. She had been ready for this moment since about a week ago. She walked out of the door, Jason in trail, to her brother’s beat up truck. It was an old stick shift that barely went sixty, but Jason loved the thing. He was one of the only kids in his group of friends who had a car, and it was like a member of the family to him. On any given day, it was mexi-packed with four or five kids, where they would all drive somewhere and hang out. He had saved up enough money to pay for two thirds of the car, and his parents had agreed to chip in for the rest. His car was his ticket to freedom. Ever since he got his license, Jason was able to stay out however late he wanted to, as long as he was responsible and stayed somewhere safe.
Oh shit. Jason felt deeper into his pocket, and then reached in the other one. He walked to the driver seat to scan the area for his keys. Where did I put them now?
“Jason let’s go!” Jules whined. And then, “What are you looking for?”
“Keys,” Jason mumbled, and ran inside to check his room, even though he knew they weren’t in there. He emerged empty handed a few minutes later, annoyed that his day was already off to a bad start. Luckily he had a hide-a-key above his front left tire, so he grabbed the rusty spare and slammed the car door shut.
Jules was angry with him, and he knew it. He knew she had wanted to get to school early to set up her new locker and mingle with all the girls she had missed over the summer. It wasn’t exactly his fault they were going to be late now. But much to Jules’ disappointment, they arrived at the two story brick building twenty minutes late. Great. Jules hopped out of the car, still not speaking to her brother, and clamored up the front steps. Jason, on the other hand, parked in one of the only spots left, which happened to be the farthest one away form the entrance. He meandered inside to his locker, realizing that he had spaced on his locker combination even after all of his efforts to remember it.
Jason trudged down to the first floor, all the way to the front desk to get a copy of his schedule and combo. As he walked in, now twenty minutes late, to his first period class, everyone silently turned around and stared at him with worried expressions. Jason looked around and recognized all the familiar faces, except for one. Jason just stared at the ground, unsure what to do. He must have been seven feet tall, and Jason could tell from the silent class that the teacher meant business. In his left hand the teacher was holding a yard stick, although this was eleventh grade English, not math. And he was probably in his mid-fifties or so; you could tell by the gray hair and few wrinkles.
“Sit. You can come talk to me after class.” Jason assumed the man up front was directing that at him. A couple kids snickered as he took an open seat in the back of the classroom and sunk down into his chair.
Thirty more minutes lecture followed. Jason figured there was no need to pay attention since more than half the class seemed to be going out of their minds. Rinnnngggg. The bell cut Mr. Smoler off mid sentence, and the students jumped to life. Jason strode over to his desk, nervously awaiting the teacher’s reprimand.
“Of course you have a good excuse for showing up late to my class,” Mr. Smoler said, not even glancing up at Jason.
“Sorry, it’s the first day. Give me a break,” Jason replied in return.
“What’d you think of the lecture?” He questioned.
“It was good.”
“Would you be ready to take a test on the matters we discussed today,” the teacher challenged.
“What?” Jason didn’t think he had heard him right.
“I am here to teach. Now, if you don’t plan on learning, we are going to have a very hard year together. I’d like you to be prompt for my class everyday, no justifications anymore. You are an upperclassman, time to grow up.” Mr. Smoler excused Jason and he turned around and began walking. Jason couldn’t help but think the whole situation was a bit comical, and accidently let out a small laugh. Instantly, he heard the booming voice of his new teacher. “You think this is a joke son?” Mr. Smoler was almost yelling, and he was a bit intimidating.
“Nope. I’m just leaving,” Jason replied in a smart-ass tone.
“Dunes office. Now.” Dunes was the principal, had been for five years now, and he wasn’t very reasonable with any kind of discipline.
At this, Jason had to smile. “Look, I am now going to be late for my next class. So how about we skip all of this and I will just see you tomorrow?” Jason put on a sheepish grin and tried to get away, but it was tough. Inevitably Jason knew he would have to give in to Mr. Smoler’s commands, but it was definitely not going to be today.
Like clockwork, Dunes pushed open the door and strode in to Mr. Smoler’s classroom. Speak of the Devil. “Hello there, Pete. Just wanted to check up to see how your first day had been going,” Dunes said in his deep voice. They began having a light conversation, and until Jason moved, he seemed unnoticed.
“How was your summer Jason,” Dunes asked him, half joking. Jason didn’t think Dunes was curious with his answer, and turned towards the door.
“And where do you think you are going?” Mr. Smoler walked Jason back over to his desk.
“Is there a problem here?” Dunes asked.
“I think you should talk to this young man over here for yourself,” Smoler retorted and went back to organizing his papers.
“Why don’t you and I take a walk down to my office,” Dunes suggested in a sarcastically sweet tone, although it wasn’t an optional thing. Jason trailed behind as Dunes lead him down the hallway the administrative center. They sat down in Dunes’ private room facing each other.
Jason looked around at all the familiar pictures on the wall. He had been in this position quite a few times before, not because he was a bad kid or anything, though. Jason enjoyed arguing with teachers and proving them wrong. He was naturally stubborn like his lawyer father, but it never got him in too much trouble. The two of them had quite a history. Jason was usually in his office every few weeks. He’d been suspended twice last year, but it Jason’s opinion it was completely irrational and ridiculous. Other than that, Dunes went easy on him because he knew Jason couldn’t control his mood swings. But for some reason, the aura of the room seemed to be different.
Dunes was silently staring at Jason, so Jason began talking out of instinct. “Well, to be honest I actually have no idea why I am here. I was a little late for class today. Sorry,” Jason offered.
“Mr. Smoler comes from the Upper East Side, he is used to much more respect than that. There must have been something else as well,” Dunes urged. Jason just sat quietly playing with the strings on his hoodie.
“Don’t lie to me Jason.” Jason laughed and got out of his chair. Dunes was being irrational and Jason just wanted to get to his next class. He was sick and tired of the teachers here treating him like he was seven. “That’s it,” Dunes said, his tone now angry. Jason turned, a bit scared of what was to come. Jason was never the type to let people, teachers even, to walk all over him. He was almost seventeen; they can’t keep telling him what to do. “You’re off the soccer team!” Dunes sat down, pleased with himself, and took his focus off Jason.
“What? What are you talking about? You can’t do that!” Jason countered. A switch turned in his brain. Jason was naturally a smart-ass, and got a kick out of messing with teachers. But this was serious. Sports were his life. It was September now, and soccer pre-season had started a month ago. Jason had attended each practice to shape the team together. After all his hard work, he was named varsity captain, as a junior. Besides the fact that he was easily one of the best players, Jason’s team needed him.
“I just did.” Dunes smirked and walked back behind his desk.
Jason stormed out of his office, to caught up in the moment to fight back. Dunes last words ran over and over in Jason’s mind, each time causing Jason to become even more outraged. He ran down the hallway cursing and slamming lockers. His anger was getting the best of him, and he knew it. Jason didn’t bother going to his next class. Nothing mattered to him at the moment except for the fact that he had no clue what to say to his coach. Jason got into the driver’s seat of his car without so much as a word to anyone and pulled out of the school parking lot.
He sped down the highway to his favorite spot about a mile out of town by a secret lake. It was about a five minute walk from the road, but it was surrounded by a lush forest of trees, making it impossible to see any homes. Over on the left side of the lake Jason and some friends had created a whole area full of benches crafted from logs and big rocks that were all centered around a campfire pit. It was far enough from society that Jason didn’t have to think about what just happened. He came here to unwind almost everyday. In the summer, there were countless late nights spent up by the lake. Jason took his girlfriend April up here all the time to watch the sunset view and cuddle up on the grass.
He cracked open a cold beer can that he had stashed in the woods to help him forget about Dunes’ last words. He guzzled it down pretty fast and then another. He lay back in the grass to look at the swirling clouds. His mind was still enveloped with fury, and he searched in his pocket for more of his anger meds. Jason didn’t know the time, and he didn’t care. He was probably going to be in even more trouble for ditching school, but it didn’t matter. His mom would be mad at him, but she would understand. It was easy for Jason to get away with things; he could always blame it on his condition.
Hours later, Jason hiked down to his car to drive back into his small town. School had long since ended and it was dusk now. Jason hopped in his truck and speeded back into town, realizing he had promised to eat dinner at April’s house.
Jason was a tad delusional; the combination of being tired and tipsy wasn’t too good for driving. Not to mention the buildup of anger inside him. Even after cooling off, he still felt rage towards Dunes, and couldn’t believe his fate of this year. Jason was speeding home, going about ten miles over the recommended speed limit. He just wanted to get home and escape his mind with April by his side. As his mind started to drift off into the arms of April, a deer jumped out of the forest on the left into the middle of the lane. Jason wasn’t fully paying attention, and the sudden movement shocked him. Without thinking, Jason slammed on his brakes and swerved into the right lane, just as a semi was coming his way.
He heard a piercing sound. Honkk Hooonkkkkk Hhooonkkkk. It was honking but there was nothing that could be done, a truck that size could not slow down in time. Jason’s car was sideways in the left lane, trapped. Jason was screaming at the top of his lungs, his anger overcome with fear.
Jason lived in a suburb where all the houses looked like miniature doll homes, and each was the same. It was just the four of them in the toy house: mom, dad, and Jules. Their relationships weren’t typical, and they were bound together by Jason’s countless outbursts. Jason’s condition has been following him since his fifth birthday. Some mornings he wakes up fine, he feels great, and nothing goes wrong. But with a rare form of Bipolar Disorder, things can change in an instant for Jason.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
“Ugh,” Jason groaned as the piercing sound of his alarm filled the silent room. He hit the snooze button and shut his eyes, hoping to drift off and forget that he would be forced out of bed in the next few minutes. He silently hoped today would be a good day. Why? He thought to himself. Why can’t summer just go on for one more day? He heard his door slip open, just like it does every morning when Tiger jumps off his bed to get his own day started. The shaggy dog had left behind a layer of himself, but Jason didn’t mind the white fluff that covered his navy duvet. He actually loved the company at night and the heat from Tiger’s eighty-five pound body.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beeeepppp.
Jason blindly smacked his nightstand, hoping to hit the button for the damn alarm to silence itself. Normally it wasn’t this hard for him to get out of bed, but just the thought of sitting in a classroom all day instead of hiking around the town with his friends made him feel sick. He rolled over, not to fall back asleep, but instead to go over everything he needed to remember to bring to school. Binders, paper, pens...Oh! Wait, what is my schedule again? I know my locker combination. It is 09-23-36. Ok ok, I should really go get up now.
With that, Jason popped up out of bed, suddenly full of energy, and walked into his bathroom. He undressed and jumped into his steam shower, which is clearly the only thing he looked forward to every morning. The water rushed down his body as the steam filled the bathroom with hot, moist air. After soaking up the water for a good ten more minutes, Jason turned the water pressure off and towel dried his wet skin. The mirrors were fogged, the air was humid, and the tiles had a layer of moisture on them, just the way Jason liked it. A gust of cold air hit his face as he opened the connecting door into his room. The sudden chill shocked him, but in a good way. He proceeded to get dressed in his personal uniform: distressed jeans, a t-shirt three sizes too large, and his favorite Burton striped hoodie.
He walked down the hall and down the wooden stairs to where his mom and little sister were sitting, chatting about the excitement of the first day of school. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the two of them, already annoyed at his little sister for being so overly happy.
“Morning Jay, how are you feeling today?” He heard his mom say with a smile on her face, happy to be back in the rhythm of things.
“Morning Mom, just a bit tired. Hey Jules,” he heard himself say in response.
He wandered past the table they were sitting at into the kitchen to grab some coffee.
“Why don’t you eat something too, Jay. It is your first day of school, and I don’t want my growing boy to get hungry,” his mom yelled from the other room. Jason ignored her. He came out of the kitchen, a bag of Chex Mix in hand, and walked passed their table to lie on the couch. “Um no, you are not having Chex Mix for breakfast. Let me toast you a bagel at least,” she offered. And without a response from Jason, she got up, sliced a bagel, and put it in the toaster.
“Mom, aren’t we going to be late for school? We should go. Jason, are you ready?” Jules excitement was too much for Jason to handle. She was going to be a seventh grader. Big deal. Middle school sucks anyway. Jules had her dark brown hair perfectly straightened, and Jason even noticed that she was wearing mascara. Her outfit was one that she had picked out back in August, when Grandma took them both back-to-school shopping. It was a bit ridiculous, comical even. Jason knew the only reason she was so excited was because she wanted to see Harry, the boy she had been crushing on since last year.
Jason’s mom handed him the unwanted bagel with his daily pills and kissed him on his forehead like he was ten years old. “My little boy is growing up,” she said, her tone a bit sad. Jason was about to begin his junior year. It was the most important year in high school, or so everyone kept saying. Jason wasn’t that outstanding straight A student like Jules, but he did try and teachers generally liked him. His best bet for college would be either a soccer or lacrosse scholarship, and his coaches told him that would be likely.
“Ok Jules, go get in the car, I will be right out,” Jason said at last. Jules leaped out of her seat. She had been ready for this moment since about a week ago. She walked out of the door, Jason in trail, to her brother’s beat up truck. It was an old stick shift that barely went sixty, but Jason loved the thing. He was one of the only kids in his group of friends who had a car, and it was like a member of the family to him. On any given day, it was mexi-packed with four or five kids, where they would all drive somewhere and hang out. He had saved up enough money to pay for two thirds of the car, and his parents had agreed to chip in for the rest. His car was his ticket to freedom. Ever since he got his license, Jason was able to stay out however late he wanted to, as long as he was responsible and stayed somewhere safe.
Oh shit. Jason felt deeper into his pocket, and then reached in the other one. He walked to the driver seat to scan the area for his keys. Where did I put them now?
“Jason let’s go!” Jules whined. And then, “What are you looking for?”
“Keys,” Jason mumbled, and ran inside to check his room, even though he knew they weren’t in there. He emerged empty handed a few minutes later, annoyed that his day was already off to a bad start. Luckily he had a hide-a-key above his front left tire, so he grabbed the rusty spare and slammed the car door shut.
Jules was angry with him, and he knew it. He knew she had wanted to get to school early to set up her new locker and mingle with all the girls she had missed over the summer. It wasn’t exactly his fault they were going to be late now. But much to Jules’ disappointment, they arrived at the two story brick building twenty minutes late. Great. Jules hopped out of the car, still not speaking to her brother, and clamored up the front steps. Jason, on the other hand, parked in one of the only spots left, which happened to be the farthest one away form the entrance. He meandered inside to his locker, realizing that he had spaced on his locker combination even after all of his efforts to remember it.
Jason trudged down to the first floor, all the way to the front desk to get a copy of his schedule and combo. As he walked in, now twenty minutes late, to his first period class, everyone silently turned around and stared at him with worried expressions. Jason looked around and recognized all the familiar faces, except for one. Jason just stared at the ground, unsure what to do. He must have been seven feet tall, and Jason could tell from the silent class that the teacher meant business. In his left hand the teacher was holding a yard stick, although this was eleventh grade English, not math. And he was probably in his mid-fifties or so; you could tell by the gray hair and few wrinkles.
“Sit. You can come talk to me after class.” Jason assumed the man up front was directing that at him. A couple kids snickered as he took an open seat in the back of the classroom and sunk down into his chair.
Thirty more minutes lecture followed. Jason figured there was no need to pay attention since more than half the class seemed to be going out of their minds. Rinnnngggg. The bell cut Mr. Smoler off mid sentence, and the students jumped to life. Jason strode over to his desk, nervously awaiting the teacher’s reprimand.
“Of course you have a good excuse for showing up late to my class,” Mr. Smoler said, not even glancing up at Jason.
“Sorry, it’s the first day. Give me a break,” Jason replied in return.
“What’d you think of the lecture?” He questioned.
“It was good.”
“Would you be ready to take a test on the matters we discussed today,” the teacher challenged.
“What?” Jason didn’t think he had heard him right.
“I am here to teach. Now, if you don’t plan on learning, we are going to have a very hard year together. I’d like you to be prompt for my class everyday, no justifications anymore. You are an upperclassman, time to grow up.” Mr. Smoler excused Jason and he turned around and began walking. Jason couldn’t help but think the whole situation was a bit comical, and accidently let out a small laugh. Instantly, he heard the booming voice of his new teacher. “You think this is a joke son?” Mr. Smoler was almost yelling, and he was a bit intimidating.
“Nope. I’m just leaving,” Jason replied in a smart-ass tone.
“Dunes office. Now.” Dunes was the principal, had been for five years now, and he wasn’t very reasonable with any kind of discipline.
At this, Jason had to smile. “Look, I am now going to be late for my next class. So how about we skip all of this and I will just see you tomorrow?” Jason put on a sheepish grin and tried to get away, but it was tough. Inevitably Jason knew he would have to give in to Mr. Smoler’s commands, but it was definitely not going to be today.
Like clockwork, Dunes pushed open the door and strode in to Mr. Smoler’s classroom. Speak of the Devil. “Hello there, Pete. Just wanted to check up to see how your first day had been going,” Dunes said in his deep voice. They began having a light conversation, and until Jason moved, he seemed unnoticed.
“How was your summer Jason,” Dunes asked him, half joking. Jason didn’t think Dunes was curious with his answer, and turned towards the door.
“And where do you think you are going?” Mr. Smoler walked Jason back over to his desk.
“Is there a problem here?” Dunes asked.
“I think you should talk to this young man over here for yourself,” Smoler retorted and went back to organizing his papers.
“Why don’t you and I take a walk down to my office,” Dunes suggested in a sarcastically sweet tone, although it wasn’t an optional thing. Jason trailed behind as Dunes lead him down the hallway the administrative center. They sat down in Dunes’ private room facing each other.
Jason looked around at all the familiar pictures on the wall. He had been in this position quite a few times before, not because he was a bad kid or anything, though. Jason enjoyed arguing with teachers and proving them wrong. He was naturally stubborn like his lawyer father, but it never got him in too much trouble. The two of them had quite a history. Jason was usually in his office every few weeks. He’d been suspended twice last year, but it Jason’s opinion it was completely irrational and ridiculous. Other than that, Dunes went easy on him because he knew Jason couldn’t control his mood swings. But for some reason, the aura of the room seemed to be different.
Dunes was silently staring at Jason, so Jason began talking out of instinct. “Well, to be honest I actually have no idea why I am here. I was a little late for class today. Sorry,” Jason offered.
“Mr. Smoler comes from the Upper East Side, he is used to much more respect than that. There must have been something else as well,” Dunes urged. Jason just sat quietly playing with the strings on his hoodie.
“Don’t lie to me Jason.” Jason laughed and got out of his chair. Dunes was being irrational and Jason just wanted to get to his next class. He was sick and tired of the teachers here treating him like he was seven. “That’s it,” Dunes said, his tone now angry. Jason turned, a bit scared of what was to come. Jason was never the type to let people, teachers even, to walk all over him. He was almost seventeen; they can’t keep telling him what to do. “You’re off the soccer team!” Dunes sat down, pleased with himself, and took his focus off Jason.
“What? What are you talking about? You can’t do that!” Jason countered. A switch turned in his brain. Jason was naturally a smart-ass, and got a kick out of messing with teachers. But this was serious. Sports were his life. It was September now, and soccer pre-season had started a month ago. Jason had attended each practice to shape the team together. After all his hard work, he was named varsity captain, as a junior. Besides the fact that he was easily one of the best players, Jason’s team needed him.
“I just did.” Dunes smirked and walked back behind his desk.
Jason stormed out of his office, to caught up in the moment to fight back. Dunes last words ran over and over in Jason’s mind, each time causing Jason to become even more outraged. He ran down the hallway cursing and slamming lockers. His anger was getting the best of him, and he knew it. Jason didn’t bother going to his next class. Nothing mattered to him at the moment except for the fact that he had no clue what to say to his coach. Jason got into the driver’s seat of his car without so much as a word to anyone and pulled out of the school parking lot.
He sped down the highway to his favorite spot about a mile out of town by a secret lake. It was about a five minute walk from the road, but it was surrounded by a lush forest of trees, making it impossible to see any homes. Over on the left side of the lake Jason and some friends had created a whole area full of benches crafted from logs and big rocks that were all centered around a campfire pit. It was far enough from society that Jason didn’t have to think about what just happened. He came here to unwind almost everyday. In the summer, there were countless late nights spent up by the lake. Jason took his girlfriend April up here all the time to watch the sunset view and cuddle up on the grass.
He cracked open a cold beer can that he had stashed in the woods to help him forget about Dunes’ last words. He guzzled it down pretty fast and then another. He lay back in the grass to look at the swirling clouds. His mind was still enveloped with fury, and he searched in his pocket for more of his anger meds. Jason didn’t know the time, and he didn’t care. He was probably going to be in even more trouble for ditching school, but it didn’t matter. His mom would be mad at him, but she would understand. It was easy for Jason to get away with things; he could always blame it on his condition.
Hours later, Jason hiked down to his car to drive back into his small town. School had long since ended and it was dusk now. Jason hopped in his truck and speeded back into town, realizing he had promised to eat dinner at April’s house.
Jason was a tad delusional; the combination of being tired and tipsy wasn’t too good for driving. Not to mention the buildup of anger inside him. Even after cooling off, he still felt rage towards Dunes, and couldn’t believe his fate of this year. Jason was speeding home, going about ten miles over the recommended speed limit. He just wanted to get home and escape his mind with April by his side. As his mind started to drift off into the arms of April, a deer jumped out of the forest on the left into the middle of the lane. Jason wasn’t fully paying attention, and the sudden movement shocked him. Without thinking, Jason slammed on his brakes and swerved into the right lane, just as a semi was coming his way.
He heard a piercing sound. Honkk Hooonkkkkk Hhooonkkkk. It was honking but there was nothing that could be done, a truck that size could not slow down in time. Jason’s car was sideways in the left lane, trapped. Jason was screaming at the top of his lungs, his anger overcome with fear.
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