Created By
Rate this Story
Embed
|
Not My Aunt
Creative
 Created on 3-16-07
 Views(126)
 Story Rating G
|
Not My Aunt
by, holly soresso
Lunatic I thought to myself as I glanced at the collage of family photos that lined my bedroom’s mirror. I stared at the picture of my grandpa and my aunt in disgrace. All my life I had been so happy, my house so perfect, and now she is going to invade my space with her contamination of craziness. To think of having a strange relative, whom you’ve seen about four times in your life, move in with you would be uncomfortable, but a relative who is unfamiliar and psycho? That’s just senseless. It wasn’t fair to me, and after fighting with my dad for a whole month; he had closed that book for discussion. Not after all those phone calls and birthday cards from my grandpa, did I ever stop to think about what would happen if he had passed away. We are the only family they had. I guess I saw him as immortal, and as far as my aunt was concerned, I just never thought about her.
I came down into the kitchen to find my dad with his ridiculous red and yellow rubber duck bathrobe on, preparing my breakfast. “G’morning apple cake!” he greeted me. I took my arms and pulled them behind my back to get a good stretch. “Dad, first off, why must you continue to wear that hideous bathrobe? It’s making my eyes bleed,” I informed him. “Oh, sit down and take a piece of toast while you’re waiting fo-” “For my eggs? How many times have I explained to you that I want my eggs, on my plate, in front of my chair, when I get down here?” I interrupted straining to be calm. “Sorry apple cakes, It’ll only be one moment.” He said apologetically. “ Oh and that’s another thing! My name is Jen, not apple cakes, or apple dumplings, or any other fruit,” I took a deep breath, “ The baby names got old years ago, I’m twelve, not two”. He shook his head and handed me a plate of eggs. So maybe I was a little hard on him, but if I wasn’t, who would? My dad was a good dad, though sometimes I question what he’s thinking. Like the choice he had made that was about to ruin my life.
He sat next to me and started to read the comics. After the first four or five bites I started to think about how the egg felt in my mouth; mashed and rubbery. I put down my fork, and forced to swallow. The ‘ping’ from the fork hitting my plate made my dad peer out from behind the wall of comics. “Something wrong Jenny cake?” he asked. I smirked and stared into his smokey blue eyes. Everyone who has seen both my dad and I, say that I have his eyes. It had been said you could gaze into them and find yourself in a different world. My eyes are my favorite part about me. Next would have been my hair, its short, dark brown with caramel highlights. Apparently it was the thickest hair in Indiana, well, that’s what my hair stylist said. “Well?” my dad asked again. I stopped, there was nothing wrong with them, I just didn’t want them anymore. So I lied replying “They’re cold”. My dads face sunk and turned to a disappointing frown. “But I just cooked them!” he exclaimed. “Well, give’em to Princess” I said half joking. By that point my dad had had it with my mouth. He got up, folded the newspaper, and headed back up stairs. I didn’t care that he was aggravated with me. He made me aggravated. I grabbed my glass of orange juice and shortly followed.
As I walked down the hallway’s deep red carpet I had remembered about my science project that I was to present to my class. I hadn’t done it, but it wasn’t my fault. It was my dad’s, he never fixed the computer. I told him over and over again that I needed the computer last weekend, but no, he decided that his back was going to hurt and he wouldn’t do anything all weekend. I couldn’t wait till he found out that I was going to fail because of him. My neck felt hot to the touch, and I knew that red splotches would soon appear. That always happened when I got royally angry or embarrassed. Knowing him, he’ll use the library as an excuse, even though he knew I wouldn’t walk all the way in the pouring rain to get there. By the time I got all worked up about my science project and entered my bedroom, it was time to leave.
When my dad dropped me off at school I quickly make my way up the stairs and entered the large glass doors. A second hadn’t gone by since I entered the building before I started to fabricate my reason why my stupid “cell” report wasn’t done. I made sure to walk like molasses to my classroom. Glancing at the four Inspirational posters hung in the hallway, I read; “Hope”, “Loyalty”, “Motivation”, and “Honesty”. It made me laugh to myself. Ok, they might have been good messages, but did they expect a poster to better students by giving them clichéd messages? I paused for a moment realizing my classroom door was ten feet away from me. I knew no one was around so I started to mutter to myself “Umm… Mr. Somtem I was really sick and- oh who am I kidding? “ Just then, I looked and saw the “Honesty” poster hanging in front of me. I let out a sharp sigh and figured maybe honesty would be the best policy in this case.
So there I sat, in the last seat of the third row, anticipating the moment I was to hear my name being called. Mandy was speaking, I could tell she was nervous because even the freckles that laid across her cheeks were white as snow, plus her hands could not keep still. I felt bad for her, she was good at most things, but speaking was her weakness. Actually, I believed no one in the seventh grade had good speech skills. Her report was about the thrilling things red cells can do. She had always had great artsy skills and it was pronounced thru her poster she had created. There was a glitter boarder, felt cutouts of red blood cells, and string used to point out different parts of its function. If she did a ghastly job on her report, the teacher would be overly impressed on the appearance; therefore, she never got a bad grade. I admired her, and was lucky she was my friend. Mandy and Stephanie, they were my best friends, and my only friends. I guessed no one understood the way I thought. In my opinion, it was their loss, I meant, I was cool… I was fun… I thought.
I picked my head back up to see Mr. Somtem looking right back at me, “You’re up.” he grunted. I took a gulp, honesty, honesty, I reminded myself. I made my way to the front of the classroom while everyone’s eyes focused on me. “Why isn’t there anything in your hands?” he asked as if he expected me not to do the project in the first place. “Well, see, I didn’t- I mean, I wasn’t able to do it.” I replied nervously. In the corner of my eye, I could see Tom and his sidekick Ricky laughing at me. Tom even had the nerve to get most of his corner to mock me with crying motions. Mr. Somtem turned his head to the boys and snapped at them to be quiet and courteous. “Why couldn’t you do it, Miss Radily? You know my guidelines for all projects,” he informed me tiredly. Warmth spread over my shoulders and crawled up my neck, and in about two minutes everyone was able to see that I was rather nervous. I lowered my voice in hopes that only he would hear me and said “ See, my computer’s hard drive-disk-memory-thinger, broke and my dad wouldn’t fix it for me. And I know about the library, but it was storming all weekend and my dad refused to drive me up there. And if I did walk up there then, you know I would of catched a cold, so I kinda figured you’d give me one more day?” He gave me a blank stare and simply said, “ Caught”. I was rather confused so I asked, “caught?” He adjusted his glasses “Yes, caught, you would have caught a cold. Not catched one.” He said in a matter-of-fact way; “Some how I think that if you really wanted this project done, you would have found a way to get to a library. So you can take your seat now.” I clenched my lips tightly together preparing to go back to my desk.
“Steph!” I called “ Wait up!” I picked up my pace and walked over to her. She leaned against the front doors waiting for her mom to pick her up. “Where’s Mandy” I asked. Originally it was just Stephanie and Mandy, they had been friends since they were in diapers. When I moved to Indiana four years ago Mandy befriended me. Stephanie didn’t like me that much at first; she would constantly ignore me or test me. Eventually in time she learned to accept me; now it is the three of us. “Who knows, she probably in the bathroom reapplying her make up” she answered. “So what’s this about your aunt moving in with you? Mandy told me last night that she’s a nut,” she said coolly. “Well, don’t worry about it because it will be like I have my space and she’ll have hers. It will be like getting new furniture, I won’t even notice her,” I said attempting to brush her off my back. She turned away from me to look out the glass doors, “oka-ay” she sang.
Just then Tom and Ricky approached us with Miranda, Kathleen, and two other boys whom I didn’t know. “Hey Jenny I heard that they are building a new college in your name; ‘Jen Radily University where daddy will do everything’” he laughed and his little group did too. “Go get a life Tom.” Stephanie snapped. “Now, now, be nice Stephanie” Ricky added. Stephanie was always ready to debate, so she glared at him “And why don’t you get a brain so you can stop having this moron think for you!” she pointed to Tom. The thing about Tom was that he had this way about him that would make you want to slap him back to the Stone Age. He took a step towards Steph and boldly put his arm around her. Her face cringed and he smiled saying “Are you fighting with me, when I wasn’t fighting with you, because you think I’m sexy?” by that point his posse was roaring with laughter. “No, because see Tom, if I were to think you are hot, we might fall in love, and then” she explained, “I would risk my kids being born a tard.” I looked at her and questioned how that was a good come back. Then Steph added “Come on Tom, you know what I’m talking about, your dad is in an institution, so you would carry the tard gene.” The Hall was silent, and everyone’s jaw lowered in shock. I couldn’t believe that she let herself pelt him with those words. It was common knowledge that Tom’s dad had to be admitted into a mental hospital. Everyone knew it, but no one spoke about it. That cocky smile vanished and turned to a bewildering stare on his face. No one looked at him in the eye; they all looked down and walked away. He looked at me with eyes of betrayal and then looked at Steph. Steph huffed like she didn’t care that she had truly hurt him, which made him even more infuriated. He shook his head and walked away.
The next morning I laid in my bed and tried to make shapes out of the ceiling’s pattern. I was preparing myself for what was to be in store for today. My dad knocked on my door, I knew what he wanted to talk about. “You may enter.” I said in my best butler accent. He softly pushed the door open. “She’s here Jen, come on, don’t be shy, she’s had a rough month,” he said quietly. “You know, I don’t think you have to whisper. I highly doubt Aunt Rachael can hear you, or understand you,” I said as I picked my self up and began to search for a hair tie on my nightstand. He rubbed is eyes like he had a headache. “Just come down and make her feel like she’s welcomed. I know I’ve told you this before, but I want you to understand,” he explained delicately “ the doctors told me that she has accepted grandpa’s death, but now she is left with a new family, new house; its all very over whelming, for all of us. They also said that she might have some break downs; do you remember what I said if she has one?” I continued to pull my hair back as I answered “I know, I know, you told me like eight hundred times. If anything happens call you, get you, what ever.” He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “It will take some getting used to, but I’m sure it’ll all be serendipity” he reassured me.
When I walked into the living room there were about eight suitcases and boxes that half way filled the room. My Living room wasn’t huge, but it suited my dad and I. At one end there is our dining room table complete with tall candles and polished wood. On the other side was where our couch and two recliners were placed. We had a big T.V. on the middle of the wall, if anything else was on the wall, it would have been pictures of me from preschool-up, vacations, and most importantly of my mom. I turned and saw my aunt sitting in one of the recliners rocking back and forth. Her hair was long, light brown, and straggly with knots. She had some type of food incrusted in the sides of her mouth. What ever she had eaten before she had got here was on her shirt, and I think her beverage had stained her jeans. When I looked at her face I couldn’t explain what was wrong with it, setting the dirtiness and greasiness aside. She wasn’t deformed, but the characteristics that made up her face were not the same as of a normal person’s. She stood up once she saw me and smiled. Her smile was crooked, and her enthusiasm to see me reminded me of a five year old. “Little Jenny!” she shouted. She walked slow and unbalanced, but she didn’t seem to care or notice it. I wondered why she was coming toward me. I backed up a little; I didn’t know what I was expected to do, or say. “Hi” I said awkwardly. “You’re my niece- Oh Rachael this is your new house… oh that’s pretty where you get that from little Jenny?” she asked. Aunt Rachael reached out and touched the butterfly on the corner of my shirt. I backed away some more so that she couldn’t reach me and I answered “Just somewhere… the mall.” I looked to the right of me where my dad had just came in. “So Rachael, how do you like the house?” he asked her. “ How does Rachael like the house, Rachael, you better like this house,” she started to say “Oh it’s a big house, does Rachael have her room?” I forced myself to keep from making a face that showed what I wanted to do. She talked like, well, what she is: a crazy person.
I had never seen my dad act so fake in my life. He wouldn’t stop smiling as he made dinner. Aunt Rachael sat in my chair as he cooked us chicken stir-fry. He kept going on and on about the house, neighborhood, what he had been doing, and even about me. I found this rather pointless, why waste breath, it wasn’t like she completely understood what he was saying anyways. Before I came down into the kitchen I was in my room where I had my thinking repeatedly interrupted by some type of shriek. The first time I heard it, I ran down stairs fearing something bad had happened. Once I asked what was wrong, my dad simply explained that her purse dropped and it made her distressed so she decided to shout. I closed my eyes and set my elbows on the table. Insanity was going to creep into my dad and me, I thought to myself. Where did my dad get off being so “oh I will take in anyone because I’m such a caring guy”? I wasn’t happy about this arrangement and I felt that if I’m not happy, I shouldn’t have to act like I am. He placed the skillet in the center of the table and sat down. “Help yourself ladies!” he chimed. “MMMMM! This smells so good, Danny is a good cook!” my aunt shouted. “How can you say he cooks good if you haven’t eaten it?” I said sharply. She looked at me and smiled, then went on heaping the chicken on her plate. My dad cleared his throat to warn me about my sarcasm and then said “What Jenny cakes means is that sometimes my cooking is questionable.” She didn’t say anything; she just continued to shove her face with food like an animal. I stopped and observed her for a moment; I decided that we could never go out to eat with her in a public place.
“Oh Rachael, Jenny is packing her school books in her book bag book carrier. Do you get strait A’s and B’s in class?” my aunt asked me while I was packing up in the morning. “Umm… yeah my grades are fine.” I replied. She picked up a folder and started look at the horse on the front of it. “Look at the little horsy” she directed. I didn’t want her touching my stuff so I asked her to put in down. When she brought her arm down, with my folder in her hand, she had tipped all of the papers out. Every single hand out and worksheet I had done in English class was fanned out on the floor. I quickly ripped my folder out of her hands and yelled, “Look what you’ve done! That’s why you don’t touch my things!” Then I got down on my knees and started to gather my papers. As I came back up to put my folder in the book bag, I noticed Aunt Rachael in the corner of the room staring at me. “Hey, I’m sorry, ok?” I said in all obligations. She came closer to me and I could see two glossy trails of tears leading from her eyes to her chin. “Okay.” She said softly.
I looked up at the clock and we were running five minutes late. The three of us were putting on our shoes; aunt Rachael’s were slip-ons. “Ew my shoes are so muddy,” I complained “wash them for me when I get home, okay?” My dad looked down at them and said “Yeah and they smell too”. Aunt Rachael laughed. “But I can’t wash’em today, you’ll have to do it yourself. Rachael has an appointment at quarter after three with her new doctor today.” I didn’t understand what had happened. I thought, how dare I get shoved aside, did my priorities mean anything to him? When we reached my school I noticed Mandy and Stephanie by the doors. It was one thing for them to notice that I was forced to sit in the back seat, but another for them to see who was in my seat instead. I tapped my dad on the shoulder, “Hey dad you can stop here, don’t go all the way up” I said. “ Why? I drop you off at the door everyday.” he said surprised. I couldn’t think of an excuse that wasn’t harsh like the truth and said “Well, I umm… you know… well not today.” I flung the door wide open and he jerked the car with his breaks. The abrupt stop made my aunt let out a piercing shriek. The kids who were around to hear her all turned to look. It was like she was a magnet to humiliation, either people would point her out and make her their freak show, or look in dismay. I couldn’t let people know who she was to me. Not when I look at people like her in that way as well.
At lunch Mandy told me about the movie her and Stephanie saw the other night. I would have gone with them if I didn’t have to stay home and “welcome” aunt Rachael to our house. “…And then she finds out that he loved her all long.” Mandy concluded. “It sounds like a great movie, I wish I could’a been there.” I said. I bought my lunch; surprisingly the pizza’s cheese only tasted a day old, opposed to a week. Taking a chip from my tray Mandy asked, “So how did it go anyways? Was she like drooling and stuff?” Then she took her hands and bent them awkwardly by her face and started to make weird noises. I forced myself to laugh. It wasn’t the first time I had seen her impression of a retard, but this time it wasn’t that funny. “Well, she’s kinda like a little kid,” I explained, “no drool, but as I said to Steph, she wont get in my way.” Mandy helped herself to another chip, “Well good, because you know what the idiots in this school would say if they found out.” she warned. “Yeah, they already are intimidated by us, any good reason to ridicule me they’ll take.” I informed her. “Not to mention that that would mean you live and are related to a tard… can I just have to rest of your chips?” she asked. “Yeah I don’t care, but Mandy, She does live with me, she is my aunt, we’re related!” I exclaimed. She scooped the rest of the chips in her hands, and then shook her head. “I know that silly, but what I meant is that no one else should know that.”
I drank some of my milk and saw Ricky and Miranda coming to my table. Ricky was a big guy, not fat, just husky. He had curly blonde hair and small dark eyes. I had always thought he looked dopey, or maybe I thought that way because he was. They made their way to us, stopped and crossed their arms. “Hey. We need talk.” He said “its about your heartless jerk of a friend.” Mandy looked up at him and rolled her eyes, “If you have a problem with Stephanie, then talk to her about it.” She said. “We just want to let you know that if she or anyone else says something about Tom’s dad, we’ll kick you’re a-” “Oh you aren’t going to kick anything because we haven’t and will never say anything.” I interrupted before he got riled up. Miranda stepped closer and leaned forward towards me saying, “By the way, I couldn’t help but notice miss Jenny, over here, getting out of her daddy’s car today.” I panicked; I knew what was about to fly out of her mouth. I knew someone had to have seen me this morning. She continued “but I just couldn’t recognize that other person in her car. Its funny I didn’t know her dad was dating a tard.” I joggled my head and smirked. I couldn’t believe she would even think my dad would date a psycho. “That was not my dad’s girl friend! My dad wouldn’t do that!” I barked. Miranda sneered back at me and coldly asked, “Then who was that?” I slowly inhaled, and held my breath until I couldn’t anymore. I looked at her and replied “She’s just some dumb tard my dad feels sorry for. He gives her a ride to some retard daycare center next to his work.” I was relieved when they had finally walked away. My head hurt when I thought about anyone else who might have seen me this morning. I wanted to go back home, back before aunt crazy.
Two weeks passed with confusion and embarrassment. It was like no matter how many times my aunt screamed because something small went wrong, I would never get used to it. My dad sat next to me on the couch and laid his head back. He looked worn down from cleaning up after my aunt’s accident in the bathroom. Thanks to her, the house reeked of urine that stung your nose for hours. “Apple Cakes, could you do me a favor?” my dad asked me. I just started watching my show and I didn’t want to get up. “Huh?” I replied. “I didn’t get a chance to wash the dishes, could you?” he said tiredly. “What! My show just started! Since when do I do the dishes? I have had to do everything around here since she arrived!” I protested. Then, I jumped up and added, “Why can’t she do anything around here!” At that point I started to feel hot on my neck. The tears were bottled in the back of my throat; I felt all my emotions wanting to come out at once. They tried to rush out but it was too much for me to bear. So I ran upstairs to my room.
I cried in my pillow for about twenty minutes. As I buried myself in my tears cold whispers from school filled my head. I remembered a week ago when three girls in my class interrogated me about my aunt Rachael. Apparently one of them saw my dad and her in the grocery store. They wouldn’t stop asking me who she was, and after I had made up some story they would laugh because they knew I was lying. Over some time I was hit by the sad realization that everyone liked to ask me about her. It was their way of getting back at all the things that Stephanie or Mandy or I have said. I hated them, and I hated my life. I begun to hear my stairs creek indicating someone was coming up them. First I heard “knock knock” and then my door’s handle tried to be turned. “Jenny, sweetie unlock the door, I want’a talk.” My dad whispered into the door. I said nothing in hopes that he would think I fell asleep. He walked away. I sat up and turned on the light on my nightstand. Opening my drawer I retrieved my jewelry box that was given to me when I was seven. It was black with a white swan painted on the top of it. I closed my eyes as I opened it. I touched the first item in my box, and brought it to my chest. Then I opened my eyes, and pulled my hand away from my heart to see what I had just taken out. I smiled and another hot tear slid down my cheek. “Knock knock knock” I heard again. This time I decided to get to the point. “Go away dad, I’m going to bed now!” I shouted. “Okay little Jenny sorry, Rachael means sorry.” said the voice that answered me. I turned to look at the door; I was shocked that my aunt would come up here. I glanced down to look at the photo in my hand and shoved it under my pillow. “I’ll let you in.” I said. I didn’t know what compelled me to let her in, but I did.
Her light brown eyes met mine once I opened the door. “I can come in?” she questioned eagerly. “Its okay; look around.” I told her. She started at my cat Princess’s royal bed I had made for her. “Where is Princess? I hope Rachael didn’t lose her.” She said. I sat back down on the edge of my bed as I said, “No, no, I think she’s hiding somewhere, that’s all.” I didn’t know what to say to her. I was apprehensive about her touching everything she saw on my dresser, but I let it go. She came and sat next to me on my bed. “I like your sleeping bed” she informed me. The weight from her on my bed made my pillow slide off the edge. She turned to see what she had accidentally done and noticed the picture laying where my pillow used to be. “Rachael did you knock Jenny’s pillow off?” she asked herself. Picking up the picture she smiled and handed it back to me. “Your mommy was pretty like you.” She said. I looked at her in disbelief of what she had just said. “Thanks.” I mumbled. “Rachael likes your room,” she looked down at my mom’s picture in my hand, “I want to see the ones from California.” At first I was puzzled to what she was talking about. Then, I remembered the last trip we took as a whole family. It was to California, I don’t remember much about it, but I do remember it was beautiful. “Umm… yeah I have one right here.” I believed. I picked my jewelry box back up and started to look threw the photos until I came to the right one. The ocean’s blue in the picture did not even come close to what it really looked like. The sun illuminated my mother’s face, and made her smile even more warm than it already was. A feeling of safeness whirled around me when saw my six-year-old-self grinning in love as mom held me tight. She studied the picture and garbled happily to herself. “How did you know about the trip?” I asked. “Danny told me stories about it. You still have sunburn?” she asked. I smiled and replied, “No, I think it cleared up when we came back home.” Aunt Rachael placed the photo next to me on the bed. Her face scrunched and she took a hold of the bottom of her shirt. “Rachael did you spill Mellorillo-o on yourself, oh now you have a strain Rachael!” she scolded herself. I grabbed a tissue off my nightstand and handed it to her. “Meleril will come off in the wash, don’t worry.” I reassured her. I really wasn’t sure if her anti-psychotic medication would come out, but I didn’t want her to feel bad. “Can you play perform ‘Nutcracker’ on your piano keyboard, because Rachael likes ‘Nutcracker’, its my favorite.” She went on “With all the little mousies and the princess and handsome prince…” I was mystified by her knowledge of the play, and so I plugged in my keyboard. After I had completely ruined The Nutcracker’s theme song aunt Rachael gave me a standing ovation. She clapped and cheered, “Oh little Jenny you’re a good piano player!” I was forced to play piano, and never liked it, but she was so unbelievably happy that I played for her, I simply said “thank you.” She came over and plinked around on the keys for a minute. “You sound like my big sister, your mommy, when you play.” She informed me. “Really? I didn’t know she used to play. My dad never told me that” I remarked. All the talk about my mom forced me to think about her. How I wanted her here; how I used to pray that God would send her back to us. I sat back down on my bed and let my hair fall over my face. I did not what to let her see me cry, but it was too late. “What’s wrong?” she asked “Did I make you sad? Rachael, did you make Jenny mad at you? Oh Jen is going to scold you… Rachael knows little Jenny doesn’t like her,” She folded her arms “and I’m sorry Jen. Don’t cry.” I quickly wiped away my tears and looked up at her. “I like you.” I argued, “Why would you think I didn’t like you?” She looked at me with saddened eyes and lowered her voice, “because you yell at me, and don’t like to watch T.V. with me,” she continued, “ You only like Princess, Rachael likes Princess. Rachael is afraid to tell you.” I shook my head. I liked her, well, maybe I didn’t like her, but then I did. I wondered what she meant by only liking Princess, did she think I hated my dad too? “I like you and my dad. I promise.” I said. “You yell at Danny all the time, oh yes you do,” she accused “Is that how you talks to your school classmates?” she asked. “No! I talk to everyone just fine; I guess I don’t mean to be mean to you guys. I’m sorry.” I replied. I started to feel sick. I kept on telling myself that she was wrong, but my conscious knew she was right. I did treat my dad cruelly, and if aunt Rachael noticed, I questioned who else had too.When I came down to breakfast I noticed that last night’s dishes were still piled in the sink. Aunt Rachael was counting the pieces of sliced sausage on her plate. “Hey aunt Rachael how’s your morning?” I cheerfully asked. She looked up surprised to see that I acknowledged her. “And how is daddy-o and his comics doing?” I asked my dad. He looked up at me surprised as well, and answered, “Oh, a, I’m fine… Ya get’a good nights sleep?” he asked strangely. He knew it was not normal for me to be friendly in the morning. I walked over to the sink and begun to fill it with water. I noticed that my dad looked at me in the corner of his eye. A smile formed and then he went on reading his comics.
In Science we had to dissect owl pellets. At first, when Mr. Somtem announced our lab I couldn’t believe it. The word “pellet” triggered the gross thought of owl waste. I meant the word just seemed to fit what I thought it was. I soon found out it was more or less like an owl hairball. Jake was my lab partner. I had always found him cute. He had the most stunning green eyes, and perfect smile. During the experiment he would find a mouse bone with this tweezers and waving it close to one of the girls’ face. Most of them screamed, just as I did. It was gross. He was gross. He was a very attractive gross kid. The two people behind me were two of many kids, which liked to bother me about aunt Rachael. One of them, Matt, poked me with his paper and out stretched his arm to bring his pellet sample up by my face. “I think your retard friend hacked this up for you.” He chimed. I glared at him and turned around. I could hear them snickering behind me, but I strained to keep from mouthing back. Jake gave them an odd face and then asked, “What was that about?” I let out a deep sigh. He was friends with everyone. He had to have known, but I guess he wanted to know what I’d say. “I don’t know, its nothing, they’re just being stupid.” I said quickly. “Well, it sounded more than nothing.” He replied. “I don’t know. I guess she- They- I-I mean,” I hesitated, “Everyone keeps making up stuff about a challenged girl they see my dad and I with.” I was relieved that I finally spat out that sentence. I sounded like an idiot in front of him. He rested his chin in his hand and flashed that amazingly charismatic smile at me. I could have melted right there. “Why don’t you just stop the rumors by telling them who she is.” He suggested. His words were the uncomfortable truth. “Well I did, I mean do… I tell them all the time, she’s just some tard.” I said endeavoring for him to believe me. He flashed his smile at me one more time, and mumbled, “That’s more like dancing around the truth, than answering them.” A long awkward silence followed. I changed the subject; I didn’t need to feel anymore guilty.
When I came home from school I found my aunt sitting on the sofa eating a bowl of ice cream. Taking off my shoes I noticed a trail of melted chocolate ice cream leading to my aunt, from the kitchen. “Little Jenny’s here. Rachael, you should have asked Jen before you eaten up all the chocolate ice cream.” she greeted me. At first, I was ready to call for my dad, but then I dashed to the kitchen for a wet rag to clean up her mess. Once the chocolate spots had been rubbed away to death, I joined aunt Rachael on the couch. “So what are we watching?” I asked. “Rachael’s favorite Black Beauty.” She answered. “Cool,” I went on “I’ve never seen it before, but it looks good.” She pointed to the screen to make sure I’d watch it to see what it was about. After the movie had finished, she came over and hugged me. I didn’t know what she was doing initially, but then I figured it out. She took her hands and placed them on my shoulders and pressed down firmly. As she pushed down, she laid her head on my chest for a split second and popped back up. It was the most unusual hug I’ve ever received, but also the most tender.
I woke up startle and flipped the covers off of me. I looked around my room, but no one was there. I strained my ears to listen better, “creak… creak… creak…” I wondered where that noise was coming from. I slowly got out of bed worrying about the source of the noise. I threw on my slippers on and followed the creaking out my door and down the hallway. I stopped at the edge of the stairs, my breathing rapidly increased. I managed to whisper, “wh-wh-who is that?” There was no reply, just the same creaking over and over again. With every step I took, the anticipation within grew more intense. When I finally turned into the living room I eased my shoulders back down and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh its just you, why aren’t you in bed?” I asked, but got no response. I turned on the corner light, so I could see better. I walked over, and stopped the movement of the rocking chair, so it would quit squeaking. My aunt just sat there silent holding an old brown hat. The hat had looked familiar; it was brown, with a rim around it. Her entire body was trembling; I was scared that she had come down with a fever or something. “Aunt Rachael are you okay?” I asked. She wouldn’t look up at me, so I placed the back of my hand on her cheek to feel her temperature. It was startling to feel her cold wet cheek, I wanted to know why she was crying. It wasn’t what I was expecting. I wanted to sympathize with her, so I tried to speak soft and heartfelt, “ What’s the matter, you can tell me.” I whispered. As quick as lightning she flew out of the recliner. She stared at me. Her eyes were narrow and distant, a huge contrast from big and bright. I backed away because something didn’t feel quite right. She tossed the hat at the wall and started to circle around the room. Then, she went over to the couch, wedged her hands between the cushions and tore them out. I was horrified and bewildered. “What are you doing…. Stop that, you cant do that.” I weakly instructed. She didn’t stop. She kept going with the next couch, and then smashed everything on coffee table. I was afraid what she was going to do next and so I frantically screamed for my dad.
Dad ran into the living room half asleep. Rubbing his eyes he wearily asked, “What’s all that racket?” He opened his eyes. That is when he realized aunt Rachael had gone completely insane. “Put down the Clock,” dad said in the most forcefully clam voice, “Come on Rachael, it’ll all be okay, you just have to please put down our clock.” My dad was scared, his lower quivering lip revealed it. My dad was fun loving and goofy. There was only one time I’ve seen him scared. It was when he told me mom wasn’t going to be able to come to dinner, ever. She looked at my dad, and raised the clock eye level. I knew I had to help, so I pleaded “P-please, We l-lo-” BANG! Pieces of glass, wood, and other parts to the clock were scattered among the rest of the mess on the floor. Then, she too collapsed to ground. I stood there watching her cry and howl like an infant. Her face was caught in broken glass; it was heartbreaking to witness. A puddle of crimson red spread out from under her head. My dad descended to her and hollered, “Jenny! Go in the bathroom, in her drawer, look for a brown medicine bottle; it’ll say, it’ll say Ativan, bring it to!”
“Ativan, ativan, ativan, ativan… where is it?” I frantically mumbled to myself, “Oh what’s thi- no not Motron, no not Meleril. Where is it?” I started to cry and continued my search. “This this this,” I picked up another bottle “is… Depakote! No, where is… oh here it is!” I seized the tiny bottle and sprinted back to my dad. I threw him the bottle. He knelt beside her, her head in his lap. She wouldn’t stop sobbing, and the secretion from the cuts only worsened. He slipped the small white pill in her mouth and held his hand over her so she would swallow. “Honey, I need you to call 911 for me now.” He directed. I did what I was told.
I stood in the middle of a huge mess taking in the last twenty minutes. My dad went with aunt Rachael to the hospital, I was left to worry my mind away. My house looked like it had been shaken by a tornado. Ripped cushions, pillows half-soaked in blood dispersed throughout the room, candlesticks snapped in half, split pieces of wood and a shower of glass and blood in the middle of the floor. “Overwhelmed” did not come relevantly close to my mental state. I had begun with the blood/glass concoction. I found three already dirt rags, and sopped it up. One of them was the rag I used to clean up aunt Rachael’s spilled ice cream. All I could do was add my troubled tears to the mess. I wanted to be in the hospital with her. She was like a harmless puppy, I couldn’t have fathomed she could do all that. I wasn’t angry with her, how could I be? I was angry with myself for undermining her and for a long list of other reasons. She taught me a lot about myself, and about people. The best part about it was that she did it simply by being who she was.
I was almost finished straitening up the place, when I looked next to the recliner. That old hat was between the wall and it. I picked it up cautiously and examined. I knew I’ve seen it before, and wondered if it was one of my dad’s hats. I sat down and started to rock with the hat still at hand. I was contemplating when they would be back home. I prayed soon. I flipped the hat in the air and it landed upside-down, revealing the name written in it. It read “Harold’s Fishing Cap”. Finally I started to understand. Harold was my grandfather. She must have flipped out because it was his hat. I knew how she felt; I still couldn’t look at my mom’s pearls.
My nerves were relieved to smell pancakes when I awoke. I rushed myself to get dressed because I wanted to see aunt Rachael. When I made my way thru the hall and into the kitchen, I didn’t see what I wanted. My dad was at the stove, like usual, with a spatula and god-awful robe on. “Where is she?” I asked. “At the hospital,” he explained, “They said it would be best for her to stay there for a lil while.” I shook my head, “but what about here, doesn’t she live here with us?” I asked. My throat felt swollen, and my neck was getting warm. “Oh yes Jenny cakes, but right now we can’t help her like the doctors can. She should be better in three or four weeks.” He reassured me. That wasn’t good enough for me, that was like a month! I wanted to know what would she do, a month all by herself. She would feel abandoned and scared, that wasn’t fair. “Well can we visit her?” I said. “Of course, she’ll be fine, she was much better after we were in the hospital, don’t worry honey, you can come with me to go see her after school, if you’d like.” He answered. I wanted to see her right then, but I couldn’t and I didn’t like it.
All English class I couldn’t focus my mind to read The Giver. I was to occupied in my own thoughts. Mandy was sitting next to me doodling in her notebook. Another teacher waved Mrs. Pendle, our English teacher, out of the classroom. My class took that as an opportunity to send spitballs through the air. As everyone started to let go of their built-up chatter, I sat quietly in my thoughts. “What’s eatin you?” Mandy asked. I couldn’t tell her, I knew this girl, and she would have just made things worse. “Nothing, I just didn’t get a lot of sleep, that’s all” I replied. I figured I had answered well, not everyone gets perfect sleep. Miranda sat behind Mandy, and never kept her nose out of our conversations, and she didn’t this time either. “I bet I know why Queen Jen won’t talk.” She butted in, “Maybe she can’t understand us because she’s been hanging too much around her tard friend.” My face iced over, freezing my defiant stare. Both of them were silent, and it drew others to look at us. I glanced to the right and left of me, suddenly I found energy in the crowd. I scrunched my eyes brows together and placed my hands on my desk. With my teeth decisively together I said, “She is not a tard, she’s my aunt, and I love her.” The entire class looked at me like I had gone completely mad. Everyone turned around with out word. I looked over to my left once more, Jake gave me another smile. That was the first time I was proud of me, and proud of who I got to be related to.Comments
Please Login to post comments| On June 18th 2007 bluehotpixie Said : | |
|
i love it it is awesome |
| On March 16th 2007 onaipwolf Said : | |
|
It's pretty good. |
| On March 16th 2007 Darkrisky Said : | |
|
This came out amazing! great job! |
