Northern Lights

Northern

Lights

Chapter One: Dear God

C

old winds blew scattering the autumn colors on the leaves falling from the trees along the gold grass. I merely watched the dancing of the leaves from my sitting place on one of the many green painted benches in Golden Gate Park. As the wind blew through my long brown hair, I sat and waited for my father to call and announce his arrival at the park to pick me up. My mother dropped me off here to wait for him because, ever since their divorce, my father and she could not be within twenty feet of each other without arguing. For that reason alone, I sat all alone in the park.

People passed me with out even a glance my way. It didn’t really bother me anyway because, in actuality, I was quite use to being overlooked here in San Francisco. I finally got tired of watching people pass me by and sitting down, so with that thought in mind, I stood from the bench to venture the park surroundings. “Maybe I’ll get lost and not have to spend so much time with my father.” I thought to myself. Unfortunately, my cell phone rang right at that moment declaring my fathers appearance in the park.

“Hello.” I answered already moving to the usual place where he would park. “I’m here.” He said in a monotone hurried voice.

“I know.” I replied with the same monotone but added a hint of irritation. There was certain hostility between my father and me. When I was

younger, he loved having me around, but now that I was at the age of 16, he found me a bore and nothing more than something that consumed his food and money.

My father’s black Chevy Tahoe sat in the exact same place as all the other weekends when he would pick me up. My father was on his cell phone, as usual, yelling at his secretary, also as usual.

“No, I said I wanted those files in today!” I situated myself in the car as my father kept yelling into his black cell phone.

Without even a ‘hello’, he took the car out of parking and drove off out of the park. It wasn’t until he finally hung up with his secretary that he realized I was in his presence.

“Hello, Catalina.” He greeted formally.

“Good morning, father. How is work?” I replied with the same formal tone as his.

“Difficult. I’d say extremely difficult.” I knew my father was talking about his employee’s being difficult rather than his actual work since he was a pretty damn good lawyer.

He was an exceedingly well organized, punctual, and proper, “get things done quickly” kind of guy while my mother, on the other hand, was mellow, sensitive, and calm, nature type of women. I was positive that is the reason for their divorce.

“How is school going for you? Are all your grades A’s and B’s?” he inquired driving down the frenzied streets of San Francisco.

“I’m sorry to inform you that I’m actually getting mostly B’s and C’s.” I stated to his disappointment.

“Oh, I see…” he said with pure distaste in his voice. “Well, how about your friends…?” I raised my eyebrow with confusion.

“What about them?” I questioned turning my head to look at him and try to study is expression.

“Oh! So you do have friends!” the shock in his voice made me nauseous. I merely rolled my eyes away from him.

“Yes, I do have a few.” I did fail to mention that the only two real friends I had were moving away this very weekend and instead of spending as much time as I could with them before they were to leave, I was here with my dad, whom would rather not have me in his presence. Stupid custody order. “Do you have a

boyfriend?” he questioned with much interest. “Nope.” I exhaled an answer tired with the conversation. It was somewhat impossible for me to have a conversation with my father without getting bored after the first two questions he asked. My father picked up my irate mood and stopped trying to converse with me.

It was a half hour drive to my father’s small house. I hated San Francisco with a passion that was hard to put into exact words. The houses were just too small and smashed between one another; it was simply ridiculous! I didn’t see how any one could live in this city with all the noise and crazy people driving. Oh, and don’t forget the extreme up hill and down hill streets that were scarier than roller coasters. My father’s house was right smack between a bright pink house and a dull blue house. If the house was a lot bigger and located somewhere other than this city, it’d be a fairly elegant house. But stuck in the midst of the city from hell, it looked more like a doll house.

My father helped me with my one bag of clean clothes and my backpack, which was his way of being a ‘father’. I lived mostly with my mother and only spent weekends and summer vacation with my father. I preferred it this way since my mother and I had more things in common than my father and me. I did have an older brother, Jake, but he married only a few months ago to a woman named Stephañia and they lived in New York, another hell city, and rarely talked to me. I do believe he and my brother had a better bond than I did with my father.

“Catalina, I have a meeting to go to. Will you be alright on your own for a while?” he questioned as he stood at the door of my room. I simply turned my head and nodded. He said nothing else and, then, silently left.

After I finished putting away the few clothes I had, I sat down on the bed and looked out the window. Unlike my mother’s house out in the country, when I

stared out the window here all I would see was another small house with a window staring back at me. The window across the street had its curtains drawn hiding the life someone was having behind them. I wondered what that person or persons were doing at that very moment as I sat in the silent house. I wondered if there was a lively and happy family behind that curtain or if it was someone who was all alone like I was. A sigh escaped my lips. The house may have been quiet and still, but outside the cars passed by in a hurried speed making as much noise as they could in the process. In this city, it felt as though everyone was always in a hurry, like there was just no time to sit down and relax. This feeling made me incredibly uneasy. For me, I rarely had anything to do, so I spent my time reading or painting. Today, however, I didn’t feel like doing either of those things. To put it plainly, I was bored out of my mind. Boredom can be very dangerous in my case because of the fact that the only thing I’d have left to do was think profoundly about my life. In most cases, I hardly ever came up with good feelings once I’d start thinking. As I sat there, I gazed blankly out the window wondering if I’d make new friends after my old ones moved away. Don’t get me wrong, I talked to other people, but they weren’t people I thought I could actually fit in with. I just couldn’t imagine how my life was going to be in high school now. I took in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly.

Since there wasn’t much else to do, I decided to call my friends, they’re brother and sister that’s why they were moving away at the same time (go figure!).

“Hello?” Lily answered.

“Hey, how are you guys? Still packing?” I probed lying down on my bed with a smile creeping out from joy of hearing my friend’s voice.

“Yeah, we are still packing. You’re with your dad right? How is that going for you?” she chuckled knowing how much I hated coming over here.

“I’m all alone right now. So it’s going pretty good I’d say.” I laughed making my smile wider. “So are you guys leaving today?” I asked curious. There was a moment of silence where, I believe, she was calculating if, in fact, they’d be ready to leave by the end of the day.

“Yes, I believe so. If not we’d leave early tomorrow. It all depends if my parents feel rested enough to leave today.” She declared.

“Oh”, came out from my lips quietly. Someone called Lily’s name and said something to her that was hard for me to make out.

“Listen, Cat, I’ma have to let you go. I need to help out here, but I’ll call you later alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Tell your brother I said hi.” “Will do, bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up and set my phone down with a sigh. “What the hell am I going to do now?” I thought. I was hoping the conversation with my friends would have lasted longer than that, now I had so much free time until it was a reasonable time to go to sleep. I grabbed my phone to check the time and to my surprise, it was only three in the afternoon; it’d be a while before sundown. “Ugh.” I set my

phone down deeply disappointed. I finally gave up on lying down and went downstairs to the living room where I could possibly find something to watch on TV. The funny thing about TV is that you could have a thousand channels and still find nothing worth watching. Frustrated, I turned off the TV and went back into my room to try and find something to keep myself entertained.

The sun was already starting to set when I finally began to paint on the blank canvas I had been staring at for the past hour or so. My hand brushed and smeared paint over the canvas bringing to life the image in my head. Only red, gold and orange appeared in my picture. Autumn was the season I loved to paint the most. My mother loved love paintings and would hang most of them up while my father not only hated my paintings, but hated the fact that I’d rather spend time painting than socializing.

It was seven when my father finally came home and by then I had drawn quite a few pictures. I heard his soft steps as he started walking to the second floor. I liked to think of these houses as one and a half houses since it was too small to actually be called a two story. There was a soft tap on my door before my father opened the door.

“Catalina, how are you holding up?” He asked almost concerned. “I’m good father. I’ve been painting the whole day. How was your meeting?” I asked just to be polite.

“Very well, I’d say. Have you eaten yet?” he questioned as I added detail to one of the benches in my painting.

“Yes.” I lied since I didn’t want to stop painting just to eat.

“Alright then.” With that said, he left me alone to keep on painting. A couple of hours passed before I was finally tired and decided to go to sleep.

*

“Catalina!” Someone shook my shoulder and yelled close to my ear. I groaned demanding to be left alone to be able to get some more sleep, but the shaking didn’t cease. “For God’s sake, Catalina, get up!” it was my father’s voice whom yelled at me and his hands shaking my shoulders.

“What?” I whined opening my eyes and sitting up to see what he wanted. “It’s your mother, Catherine…” He had my full attention now since his voice sounded full of worry.

“W-what about her?” I inquired anxiously rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes.

“There’s been an accident.” His reply was just a little over a whisper and his eyes didn’t’ look at me, but instead, stared at my deep red comforter. I couldn’t really grasp what he was telling me.

“Is she alright?” I choked out knowing that most likely she got seriously injured if his expression was as dim as it was.

“No, Catalina, we have to go over there now. Get ready quickly.” My eyes swelled up with tears, but only a few slipped and streaked down my cheeks. My father gave me a quick hug then stepped away from my bed. “Be ready. We don’t

know how much ti-” he swallowed thickly stopping himself from completing the sentence. “She would want to see you right away.” I nodded closing my eyes causing some more tears to fall.

I got ready in record time and was in my father’s car before he was. As I sat waiting in the car, I thought about how injured my mother could be. By the way my father’s tone was earlier, it seemed as though she was extremely hurt and possibly she could be ….dying. I immediately pushed the thought out of my mind. ‘No, my mother is going to be alright.’ I thought just as my father got into the car unsteadily. The whole two hours to the hospital where my mother was staying went by in silence. My head was filled with thoughts I rather did not want to have. My nails were chewed off to an imaginable small size from the anxiety by the time the hospital was in sight. My mother had just gotten out of surgery when we asked about her and visitation.

“Only one at a time, though, and don’t cause her any sort of stress.” The nurse informed us. My father gave me a little push. That was his way of telling me to go first, which was best since just seeing my father might cause my mother stress. I nodded his way and started down the hallway towards my mother’s temporary room.

She looked incredibly awful. There was no other way to describe it. Her forehead was bound in strips of cloth, I supposed that was covering the worst part, I wasn’t sure though. Her once beautiful face now had small cuts and drying blood all over. The right side of her face was swollen in various places. Her right eye was almost fully closed with only a small slit for her to see through, if it were possible. There was a cast on her right arm and one her leg. The rest of her body was covered preventing me from seeing anything else.

“M-m-mom?” I stuttered out whilst I made my way to the chair that sat next to her bed.

“Catalina?” her voice was hoarse and hard to hear.

“Yes, mother, it’s me.” Her left hand searched blindly for mine. I grabbed hers and squeezed it softly worried that I might hurt her if I put too much strength into my grip. She didn’t say anything right away but merely focused on trying to breathe in the oxygen the tube in her nose was providing.

“So,” she attempted to chuckle but it came out more like a rough cough. “How bad is it?” a small painful smile tried to leak from her lips. The chuckle I gave almost came out as a cry, but I knew tears would devastate my mother and that was no good for her right now.

“Ah, not that bad. I think you need to redo your highlights, though, mom.” Keeping a light hearted structure was getting harder by the minute.

“Well, that’s good. I feel like crap right now.” She tried to laugh again. “Mom, don’t try to laugh. It hurts you. I can tell.” Her eyes stared into mine stabbing my heart with her obvious pain that she couldn’t suppress anymore. Tears formed in my eyes and, even thought I tried my hardest to keep them from

my mother’s fragile body. “Oh God, Mom!” I exclaimed with pain clear in my voice. My mother was crying now, also, and I felt terrible for losing my calm and causing her stress now.

“I-I’ll be alright, Catalina.” Her voice spilt with sudden short cries. As much as I wanted to believe her words, there was still a fraction of my mind that told me nothing was going to be the same.

“I really hope so mom…” I was screaming at myself mentally to shut the hell up and compose myself. My mother didn’t need this worry I was pushing down on her shoulders.

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Catalina.” She tried laughing and succeeded, but then that laugh came more as a soft cough and that cough became a loss of breath in short moments.

“Mom? Mom? Mom Breathe! Come on Mom!” my panicked voice shook as much as my hands did.

With the rapid breaths she tried to take in, there were rapid beeps coming from the monitors. It was only a matter of minutes before doctors and nurses started flowing into the room and pushing me out the door. They rushed to my mom’s side trying to quickly figure out what was wrong with her. I heard myself screaming her name as one of the nurses forcefully pushed me out the door

shutting it behind me. Another nurse came to pull me away from the door to make sure I didn’t try to force myself in. Tears that I had been trying to hold back now flowed from my eyes at an accelerating speed. I saw my father stand from the couch where he was sitting and come rushing to my side to put his arms around my trembling body. He sat me down on the couch and stroked my hair telling me to calm down because everything was going to be alright, but I could bring myself to actually believe it. Why couldn’t I have hope? Was I really just being

pessimistic? No, something is definitely not right. I could feel deep within me. As the realization seeped in more deeply that my mother would most likely not

survive this, the tears came faster. I didn’t know how I could possibly cry so much, but there I was with tears soaking my shirt as the fell. I tried taking in deep breaths to calm myself. Damnit this was my entire fault! I couldn’t keep myself composed enough to keep my mother from worrying and now she’s suffering. I closed my eyes so I could just try to stop crying. Crying would do anything to help my mother right now. I needed to concentrate on believing and praying that she will pull through this…because she will, right?

It only took me a few moments until I fell asleep in the hospital waiting room. I wasn’t sure how long I had slept but when I woke up I was stretched out on one of the long couches and my father was no where in sight. I sat up

lethargically rubbing my eyes and trying to focus my sight. It took only seconds for me to remember what had been going on before I fell asleep and that’s when I started to panic. How was my mother? What happened to her? Will she be alright? Is she alright? Is she in pain? Did she have more surgery? Is she in surgery right now? Did she pull through? Is she…dead? I swallowed hard and forced myself not

to think of that. My father came into sight with two cups of coffee in his hands. I tried to smile at the thought of having warm coffee down my throat, but at that moment I didn’t feel like I could be able to hold anything down. He handed me my cup of coffee with a smile that didn’t wash the stress away from his eyes.

“Do you know how she is dad?” I asked once he sat down next to me. I could tell that he was trying to buy himself time because he took a long sip from his cup of coffee.

“She’s in surgery again.” He said with a sigh.

“Well, what have the doctors told you? I know they have told you

something about her chances in living. Dad, please just tell me. I don’t want to be lied to right now.” I tried pleading with him still holding the untouched coffee he handed me on my lap.

His eyes stared straight ahead for a few seconds. I presumed that he wasn’t going to tell me anything because of the silence he engulfed us in, but then his lips began to move as he spoke softly.

“She has a lot of internal injuries, Catalina. The doctors are saying that… her chances, well, they’re-they’re,” his lips lightened into a thin line as he took in a deep breath.

“Her chances are slim, aren’t they?” I asked to make things just a little bit easier for him.

My father nodded as simply answer. I sighed once again feeling the water works coming on, but fought them back. I need to be calm and coherent at this moment.

“She’ll make it, Catalina. Your mother is a strong woman. She just needs to fight and I’m sure she will.” My father tried comfort me with assurance, but once again I couldn’t believe it.

He just admitted her chances were poor so how could be so sure that she’d live. Once again, why couldn’t I hope? It was getting frustrating that I just doubted everything. Perhaps, I was trying to get it through my head that my mother was going to die so when the news finally did come I wasn’t going to go crazy and possibly die inside. Yes, perhaps that was the reason for my lack of faith, but it didn’t do justice for my mother. I knew she was a fighter. I knew she was stronger enough to make it, to live and yet I doubted my mother’s will to live.

“Mr. and Ms. Danielson?” the doctor questioned as he stood before my father and me. We both nodded to confirm the doctor’s question.

“How is she, Doctor?” My father asked before I could open my own mouth to ask the same question.

The hesitation from the doctor told me that he didn’t have good news. Either she made it through but she’s holding on by a string, or she’s not holding on at all.

“We tried our best, but her internal injuries were too severe and…” I tuned out the rest of what the doctor was saying. Just from the small fragment of a sentence I knew what he was finally going to say. “I’m sorry, she didn’t make it

through. I’m very sorry for your loss.” My bottom lip quivered fervently. The tears had a mind of their own now. They spilled, more like poured, from my eyes. My hands found their way to my head so they could hold it up as I leaned down toward my knees to let the cries come out.

“Dear God, no, no, no…” those were the only words that I managed to say even though there were so man other sentences in my head that begged to be spoken.

My father’s arms wrapped around my tense shoulders once more trying to comfort me only, this time, he didn’t speak any words of reassurance. I’m not sure when the doctor left, or when he handed some papers for my father to fill out, or when he took my father to see my mother’s corpse. All I could think about was my mother, how she was dead and forever gone from my life. Everything else became a blur to me, the walk out of the hospital to the car, the drive to my mother’s house so I could get clothes, checking in to a local inn, and then finally lying down on one of the beds. I stared up at the white ceiling; the blank white ceiling that drifted me off to nowhere. My father never came into the room to check on me. Only once did he enter just to leave a sandwich and a cup of tea to “calm my nerves”. My nerves were fine, though, I was calm and I wasn’t hungry so I just left the plate and cup on the night stand and continued to gaze up at the ceiling. Unlike the other times when I would look up at my walls, I didn’t try to make shapes that weren’t there. I wasn’t bored, like other days, and I wasn’t trying to find

something to entertain myself. All I wanted was to feel numb, to be numbed from the events that occurred today. I wanted to escape from this day and from the rest of the days, weeks, months, and years to come. Without my mother, I just didn’t want to live. I couldn’t picture myself as happy as I was with living with my father. He’d avoid me, most likely, and consume himself in his work. He’d take late meetings and work at his office instead of at home to prevent from having to face my depression. I would have to start a new school in the city I hate. But I do suppose it wouldn’t be any more different than going to the school I went to already since I had to make new friends anyway.

My eyes began to sting from not blinking the whole time I contemplated my life from now on. It took much force for me to close my lids and let the moisture in my eyes soak them up and get rid of the stinging sensation. My eyes must have been incredible dry because I need more than just a little bit of moisture to get them to be fully soaked. That’s when the tears started pouring out once more. I gripped the covers beneath me to try and hold in the cries that were so desperately longing to come out from between my lips. The cries of sorrow and loneliness pained my heart inside my chest. There wasn’t much I could do now. I had no control of my life, if I did, my mother would still be alive at this very moment. Perhaps, I did have control while I was in the hospital. Maybe, I could have saved my mother if I didn’t cry the way I did, if I didn’t doubt and believed with all my heart that everything would be okay, but my mind didn’t want to agree with that idea. If I couldn’t believe life would be alright then, why would I believe

it now? ‘Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright?’ my thoughts tried to plead with me. I shook my head unable to accept it as true. No, nothing was going to be alright, I knew that for a fact so long as I was with my father.

Sunshine suddenly spilled in from the window and streaked my face causing a shade of red to spill into my closed eyes.

“Rise and shine, Catalina. Breakfast is on the table, come and eat something.” My father’s voice was unusually upbeat as he came to shake me awake.

My eyes slowly opened to see the smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m not hungry.” I groaned turning my back to him. I could hear the deep frustrated sigh he gave.

“You have to eat sometime, Catalina. Now, get up, take a shower to refresh yourself, and come and eat. I’m giving you five minutes to get up, alright?” I was going to say something back to him, but decided to keep it to myself; he’d surely be displeased with the comment I was going to make.

I merely sighed and nodded my head. With that, he walked out the door leaving me to get up in a few short minutes. Even thought I desperately wanted to just stay in bed and not have to greet the new day in my life without my mom, I decided it would be best to get up that way my father wouldn’t bother me with his constant nagging.

The water the splashed on my face was surprisingly refreshing. In some sense, I felt as though it was washing away the events that had only occurred yesterday. That feeling only lasted until the shower was over. When I began to slip into my clean clothes, the heart wrenching pain came back again into my system and I couldn’t handle to keep the calm, sensitive smile on anymore. I knew that we would have to arrange a funeral, obviously, soon and then call relatives about my mother’s…death. Argh, I just couldn’t think that word! Even when I thought it, my throat seemed to close up on me preventing me from breathing for a short while. I wanted to cry once more, right there inside the bathroom. I managed to finish getting dressed, fixed my hair, and brushed my teeth before I practically ran into the bedroom I was sleeping in and cried into my pillow. I knew, even with the small pillow over my mouth, my father could hear me from the dinning table just on the other side of the wall. In spite of this knowledge, my cries still came out louder and louder. There was no way I’d be able to inform the few relatives I knew that my mother had passed away or arrange a funeral. I was longingly hoping that my father would take care of it all since he seemed to be dealing with this much better than I was.

Then, I wondered if he had told my brother already. He must have to him; I mean it was his mother that died. This lingering question made my crying stop and made me get up, walk to the dining room where my father was, and sit down with the untouched breakfast plate in front of me.

“Well, go ahead and dig in. I’m sure you’re hungry.” When he said those words I realized how much my stomach wrenched from the lack of food and began to ‘dig in’.

I ate so quickly that the plate was clean in just a few minutes. My father’s eyes watched me as I picked up the last piece of pancake and shoved it into my mouth. It was a greatly satisfying breakfast that almost made me forget the reason I got up from bed. Almost. Pushing the plate away, I folded my hands in my lap and turned to look at my father who was busy sipping his coffee and writing in his notepad. His eyebrows furrowed as if he were struggling with a math problem.

“Dad?” I asked aloud. He raised his eye brows at me in a way to let me know that he was listening. “Have you called Jake yet?” I asked truly curious. His pen stop scribbling onto the notepad and he finally looked up at me. “Yes, his plane should be arriving in an hour.” For some reason, it infuriated me that he didn’t mention this to me.

Why hadn’t he told me that my brother was on his way here? I had a right to know. Maybe, I could have spoken with Jake earlier and I wouldn’t be having this breakdown. I wanted to yell at my father. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for not telling me, for not letting me speak to my brother, but I knew that my anger wasn’t towards him. My anger was for the world. I sighed my frustration out and then left the table to go back into the room to possibly cry some more or go to sleep again.

*

For the next two days, I spent most of my time in bed only getting up to take a shower and grab a small portion of food to quiet my growling stomach. For the next two days, neither my brother nor my father came in to the room to try and talk to me. Family members that were just arriving to give their condolences to my father, brother, and me were especially talkative about the way I looked. When I would lock myself in the bedroom after the greetings were done, I could hear one of my aunts asking my father if I was eating. When he told her that he wasn’t sure because I spent most of my time in the room she replied,

“That isn’t healthy for a sixteen year old girl, you should be more assertive and make her realize that sulking around won’t do anything to hide the pain.” I blocked out the rest of the conversation for I had heard it all from the many other relatives.

The day of the funeral was the worst for me. I don’t think I ever stopped crying. My father and brother had to force me away from my mother’s grave into the car. While in the back seat with my brother’s wife, I tried to calm my tears because I knew they were growing exceedingly tired of my cries. My brother turned the music on to hide the sniffling coming from me. Stephañia pushed herself as far away from me as she could. Her head was resting on her hand as her elbow rested on the edge of the window. Her short blonde hair swept over her eyes covering her expression from me. I knew that she didn’t like me. I could feel the vibration of extreme dislike coming off her. I almost felt the same vibration

coming off my brother and father. Well I was sorry that I was mourning my mother’s death because it’s just so awful. I laughed inside from the sarcastic comment I made that they didn’t hear.

Despicable, that’s what it was. How could they be so calm about this? Did they not have a heart? I tried not to think about it, and not to cry until my father dropped me off at the inn. Yes, he merely told me that they were going out to eat and then gave me the card key so I could go up to the room, alone.

My father, brother, Stephañia, and I left to San Francisco the following day. My father had only three rooms in his house but it was enough since Jake and Stephañia slept in the same room.

Jake only stayed in San Francisco because he had a week leave from his work and wanted to spend time with my father. My friends called me the day we arrived in San Francisco, but I didn’t answer. I wanted to be completely alone, so I turned off my phone, shut the window curtains, and locked the door.

I stayed in my room and painted as much as I could. Autumn was no longer in my pictures. No, now black and white dominated the canvas. I knew I was bringing depression greatly upon myself, but I didn’t care. I knew I was alone now. My only two friends were five hundred miles away, my mother was dead, and my only family left avoided me like a contagious, deadly disease. Maybe I was contaminated. Maybe I was deteriorating from the inside out.

What did it matter though? I’m sure if they got through my mother’s death in a calm state, they’d be able to go through mine just as easily. Who cared if I was dead? Maybe only two people in this whole world would, but they’d get over quickly.

My mind was filled with negativity that I couldn’t push away. Why was I even living? I was only taking up space. I would much rather be dead and be reunited with my mother than stay here and be invisible. But what was I trying to prove? That I wasn’t invisible or a disease? No, what I was trying to prove is that death was the only way for me to get rid of all this pain inside. Yes, that was my point. That was all I wanted right now. “Yes, death.” My mind thought over and over while a smaller voice inside my head tried to scream some sense into me, but I didn’t want to hear it.

I knew that in this dreadful city I could easily make my suicide look like an accident, if I really wanted to, that is. With one last look at the clock that read five p.m., I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door avoiding the “family” sitting in the living room.

I could feel the stares of all the people walking around gave me. I hadn’t looked in a mirror in a few days, so I assumed I must have looked awful. But did I care? No, I didn’t because I wouldn’t have to deal with those stares for much longer.

In my mind, I contemplated many ways to end my life. I thought maybe I could jump in front of a moving truck, but that might not kill me. Next, I thought about jumping off a building. I could have the few short seconds of euphoria as I

fell. But I scratched that one out too because it’d be difficult to find a tall building where I could get access to the roof easily. As I quickly walked through the streets, the golden gate bridge came into sight. ‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘that would be perfect.’ All I had to do was walk over to the bridge. There was a pay toll, though.

“Damn.” I spat out shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I felt a few loose papers and brought them out to dispose of them, but when I got a look at what it was-dollar bills-, I immediately shoved them back into my pockets and began walking toward the pay toll of the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge.

It didn’t take me that long to reach the middle of the bridge where it was clear water straight ahead because I ran the whole way there. People looked at me funny, but, once more, I didn’t care; I just need to reach the middle of the bridge.

My lungs were filling up with icy air rapidly as my chest cave in and out with each breath I took. My hands gripped the red railing that was between me and the open space of air and water. In my head, I planned everything out quickly. I knew that if I stood, or sat, too long on the railing someone would pull me away before I even had the chance to fall. What I had to do was jump the railing immediately that way there would be no way anyone would be able to save me.

I thought about the floating I would experience before I hit the water, and, then, considered making it a dive. Afterwards, I could let myself suffocate

underneath the water. I have no idea why, but that seemed perfect to me. Fire would be worse, and falling from a building may not do the trick and only bring more pain.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath and then…I jumped. As I fell, I could hear the screaming and gasps from the spectators, but the wind rushing through my hair gave me a worry free sensation and I didn’t think of anything other than being with my mother again.

My arms stretched out in front of me as I was nearing the water. I slipped in with grace and, then, I let myself float in the water. For the few short moments when I had enough air in my lungs to stay conscious, I examined the water. I felt like I was nowhere. There was blue all around that was all I could tell. My eyes closed and my mother came into my mind. She was happy and beautiful again. And I-I was going to be with her soon, forever with her again.

My mind let my body become numb to the feeling of having no air, to the feeling of water seeping in to my lungs as my body desperately longed for some oxygen. I never once felt pain because I just kept thinking about my mother and the joyful memories I had with her. I believe I had a smile on my face when my body finally couldn’t hold on to life anymore. It was a smile that was happy to be reunited with my mother, a smile that was happy that I wasn’t invisible anymore, a smile that was happy that there was no more depression, a smile that was happy that life was over.

Chapter Two: Never Ending

V

oices surrounded me again. ‘Was this heaven?’ I thought to myself in a bit of a daze. I could tell my eyes were still closed because of the blackness that I was engulfed in. All I could think about was my mother and how much I wanted to see her. Was that one of the voices I was hearing? Could one of them possibly be my mother’s? I couldn’t really make out what the voices were saying, so I couldn’t make out an actual characteristic in them to differentiate one from the other.

There was an abrupt push against my ribs. The weird thing about that was it hurt. Could you still hurt in heaven? If you could, then that would be total crap.

Something, then, came pouring down my throat and into my lungs. Could it be more water? Was I still dying? The push against my chest came again thirty more times, followed by the sensation of something coming into my throat once more. This was becoming frustrating extremely fast. What kind of trick was this? Was I in heaven or purgatory? My eyes wanted to open so I could figure out what my surroundings were, but that’s not what happened first.

First, my throat filled up with water. The water rushed up and out my mouth spilling out all over my face. Only after that did I open my eyes to look upon the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, and it wasn’t my mother’s. I must have stared at him without blinking because he started calling me, not by name though.

“Miss, Can you hear me?” he asked, but I still gazed at his pale white face surrounded by shining rich midnight black short hair.

His amazingly clear blue eyes mesmerized me into speechlessness. “Miss?” he asked again.

My mind had so many answers and comments that I wanted to give him. One of them consisted of something like, “Oh yeah, I can hear you, handsome.” Another one was, “I must be in heaven because you’re an angel.” Of course they were all cheesy, but anyone of those would have been better than, “I’m dead, right?” there was scattered sighs and a few laughs.

The beautiful face before me merely smiled. “No, you’re not dead.”

I felt the ends of my lips pull down in a frown. What?! I wasn’t dead? What the hell happened then?

“I gave you CPR, and brought you back.” He explained as if reading my mind, or maybe my furrowed eyebrows gave the question in my head away. “An ambulance has been called and it’s on its way here.” He kept explaining.

He turned his face to talk to someone else beside him. Only then, when I was no longer held in his hypnotic gaze, I looked at my surroundings. It seemed like was lying down in a parking lot. There was a circle of people around me. From my point of view, all I could see was their confused faces and the thick clouds behind them.

“What’s your name?” he questioned. I wanted to open my mouth to tell him, but I choked on my words.

“The ambulance is here.” Someone yelled and sure enough, I heard the sirens and then the stretcher rolling over to the spot where I lied. They picked me up and lied me down on the long white stretcher.

“Did you give her CPR?” one of the men asked the beautiful boy. He nodded and the man padded his shoulders and then came with the rest of the men as they took me to the ambulance.

Once in the hospital, the doctor asked my name and a number where I could contact my parents. I really didn’t feel like giving it to the doctor, at first, but I finally gave in and told him the number. The nurse told me that I had to keep the oxygen mask on and breathe in profoundly. That was pretty simple, and it made me a little lightheaded too.

As I sat there taking in my ‘profound’ breaths, I thought about the boy who saved me. In a way, I wished he hadn’t because I longed for death so badly at that point. But, now, I wasn’t exactly sure what was running through my head as I decided to commit suicide. Jeez, I knew life with my dad was going to be horrible, but driving me to suicide? That was almost comical. I wondered if my dad would see it that way, or if he’d actually see it as a ‘wake up’ call to actually be a dad to me. A smirk appeared across my lips and the golden green eyes came into my mind. He was so dreamy with his high cheek bones, perfectly defined lips, the smothering crystal blue eyes, and the luscious black hair that fell over his eyes. Too bad I would most likely never see him again. What a shame.

My father stepped into the room at that moment. The expression on his face was unreadable. I tried not to pay too much attention on him and concentrated on taking those “profound” breaths from the oxygen mask. My father closed the door and stayed there with a look of frustration on his face. It was either frustration from my suicide attempt, or from the lack of coherent sentences that were rushing through his mind at that very second.

“The doctor said you tried committing suicide. Is that correct?” I nodded. “They said that, from the information they gathered from the witnesses, a boy jumped into the water after you and pulled you to the land and then gave you CPR, is that correct?” I shrugged and then nodded.

‘CPR, eh? That requires mouth to mouth right?’I thought to myself as my dad began to talk away. ‘So that was the feeling I was getting in my throat. It was the air he was breathing into me.’ The thought of having those soft looking lips upon mine made my mouth water. ‘Why couldn’t I have been conscious while he did that?’ I frowned at the thought.

“…maybe I have been a bad father to you in the last couple of days, but, Catalina, you just pushed yourself away from all of us we couldn’t do much to help you heal from your mother’s death.” I caught the last part of my father’s confession? I’m not sure exactly what he was talking about but it ended with me being the problem that caused my father’s negligence.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you?” I nodded again still not knowing what he was trying to tell me, but I figured nodding would be the easiest way to get the conversation over and done with. “Alright, the doctor said you can leave. Let’s go.” I took one last “profound” breath and then set the mask down on the bed and walked out the door trailing after my father.

My brother and his wife didn’t ignore my presence when I entered the house this time. No, now they stared at me like I was a crazy girl. Maybe their stare was justified because of the fact that I tried killing myself. That would pretty much put me in the same category as serial killers and those who saw the dead. I was going to go back up into my dark room, but my father stopped me in the process.

“We need to talk.” He demanded.

I sighed and followed him into the tiny living room. I sat on one couch and he sat on the other. “Okay, well, this isn’t exactly easy to start off, so I’m just going to say it.” He took in a deep breath and then began again. “How could you do something like that?” I opened my mouth to say something, but he just kept on going. “I can’t believe it. I gave you your space because I believed that would be better than pushing you to get out of the darkness and live your life, even if your mother was gone. I know your mother would have been greatly disappointed if it were she in my place.”

In my mind I thought ‘If you’d have died I wouldn’t have gotten this depressed.’ It was an ugly thought, but it was the truth. Had it been my father whom had died instead of my mother, I would have been sad, yes, but having my mother there to comfort me and promise me that he was in a better place now, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gotten so depressed and I wouldn’t have tried to commit suicide.

“You have no clue how disappointed I am.” Like he wasn’t already thinking that I was disappointment before? Oh, please save me. “I just don’t know what to say right now.” His eyebrows pulled together now as he began to think of more ideas and statements to tell me.

At that moment, I felt a little bad about the whole suicide attempt and was about to say I was sorry when… “If this had gotten out in the press, my career would be ruined. Who would want a lawyer that has a suicidal daughter? I was lucky that the doctor agreed not to give out your name.” I could feel the anger rise within me.

All he was thinking about was his career! He was only thinking about himself while I still was in extreme depression! My God what was wrong with this man? I didn’t want to sit through much more of his selfish crap, so I got up,

without even asking to be excused, and stomped to my room slamming the door behind me.

Just like before, my father never bothered me. He didn’t even come up to the room to tell me that my brother left; I only knew he did because I heard the voices down stairs. And then, there were no more voices.

As I had predicted, my father would leave early to his work and come back as late as possible. This went on for a whole week. I could have gone out and done drugs, gotten drunk, prostituted myself, or even tried to commit suicide again and he could have cared less.

I felt so incredibly alone once more. I didn’t bother turning my phone back on; I didn’t even know where I had put it, but I didn’t care. There were no more pictures in my head that needed painting; I had lost interest with that too. There was just so much pain in me that didn’t want to go away.

Why couldn’t I have just died? I wanted to die! Why don’t people respect the suicidal person who’s so very ready to leave? Why? Why?! Ugh, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I felt as though I was slowly building up all this anger inside of me. For the past two and a half weeks, I’ve just been holding everything inside me and, now, I was about to burst.

I screamed. I screamed so loud and hard my throat began to hurt, and I was certain that, even with the cars making noise, the people walking right outside the house could hear my demented yell. My hands grabbed the lamp next to my bed and crashed it against the wall. I knocked everything off my dresser making sure to break anything that was glass or fragile.

Next, I went to my closet and tore the clothes off the hangers and threw it all behind me not caring where they landed. My nostrils were flaring and I could tell my face was a bright red as I ripped the covers off the bed and kicked the mattress to the floor. The back of my bed frame had a mirror, so I grabbed one of the many porcelain dolls from the shelves and crashed it into the small mirror. The doll broke immediately and only cracked the mirror. I grabbed another doll and did the same.

And then grabbed another, and another, and another, and yet another. The mirror hardly broke even though I smashed six porcelain dolls on it. I became so frustrated and kicked the mirror with a move I learned when I had taken karate in my younger years. The mirror fell to pieces in just three kicks. This brought a sinister smile to my face. I was going mad, insane, crazy, and all the other words that could describe the evil spilling out from my body. I kicked, pushed, smashed, tore, and destroyed anything in my sight.

When I finally got to my bottles of paint, I ripped off the cap and forced the paint out of the container to spill all over the walls, floor, and anything that was on the floor. My three bottles of red paint ended up thrown on the dresser mirror to drip down to make the mirror seem as though it was bleeding. Only when I

stopped to watch the red paint slide down the mirror did I look at the reflection of myself. There wasn’t much I could see because the paint only allowed so much of the mirror to show. I did see the way my eyes looked, though. They were wide and black staring back at me like a predator. My lips were dry and chapped, and my arms were covered in various colors of paint. My breaths came sharp and fast forcing my shoulders to go up and down at a vicious speed. I hated the reflection in the mirror; I hated the person I was looking at.

“You should be dead.” I said to my reflection through clenched teeth. My reflection mouthed the words back to me as I spoke. “You should disappear. No one wants you. You’re invisible and nothing. Go away. Go AWAY!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs smashing my fist into the mirror to break the reflection and free me from myself.

I could not tell if the crimson thick liquid flowing off my hand was red paint or my own blood, and I could not tell who I was anymore. I was no longer Catalina Danielson, a girl who was sweet, kind, shy, funny, smart, respectful, or loving. Now, I was some twisted, demented, suicidal maniac.

My legs gave way and I fell to my knees in tears. What had happened to me? How did I lose myself so quickly? I just wanted my mother so badly. I wanted her comforting embrace, and heart warming words spoken in my ear. I wanted to feel her warmth against me once more. I wanted her to be alive. I was going through hell here without her.

‘No, you’ve been putting yourself through hell.’ A voice rang in my head and it spoke the truth. It’s normal to mourn for the death of my mother, but would I really want her to be acting as I was if the roles were reversed? I knew the

answer was ‘no’, and that there was no justified reason for me to have gone all out of control as I had.

My room was complete mess, and I knew that my father would, most likely, get home in a few more hours. If I really wanted to, I could have cleaned the room up enough so that he didn’t flip out when he saw it. But I was too tired to even get up from my place on the floor, and I knew he wouldn’t come into my room. If he hadn’t come into my room for the past week, what would make him come into it now, right? My mind was too exhausted to try to think about anything else; it begged for sleep and that’s what I gave it: sleep. I let myself huddle on the floor with the broken items all around me and slept.

My father’s yelling woke me the next morning when he walked into my room. It was ironic that the one day it would have been best not to check on me was the day he decided to see how his “little angel” was doing.

“Daddy?” slipped from my mouth in a childish tone. I’m not really sure why I fell in to a child like state. All I knew was my eyes became big and round and I began to protrude my bottom lip.

“Don’t call me that!” he yelled storming out of my room. I sat up dumbfounded and looked around at the mess I had made.

It was horrible and worse than I had remembered from yesterday. Honestly, it looked like someone came in to steal and then decided to pour paint all over the walls and break everything. My mouth was hanging open when my father came back with two suitcases in his hands.

“W-what’s that for dad?” I question from my place on the floor.

His steps were loud as he walked over the broken items on my floor. He didn’t even answer my question, but began to pick up the clothes from my floor and stuffed them into the suitcases. It didn’t take long for him to fill the two small

suitcases with my clothes, some of which had paint splattered all over them. He forced them closed and then walked out the bed room door with them and down the stairs.

I followed still wondering what he was doing.

“Dad!” I yelled out at the top of the stair case. He jerked around to look at me with fierce eyes. “What are you doing?” I questioned choking on the last fragment of my sentence as I began to feel the tears sting in my tired eyes.

“You’re leaving.” My mouth could have dropped open and my eyes bulge out like the characters in the cartoons, but that didn’t happen. Instead, the tears rolled down my cheeks from my stunned eyes.

“What do you mean? Where am I going?” I asked walking down the stairs carefully hanging on to the railing for balance.

“I’m tired of this. You’re going with your aunt Claudia.” My eyebrows came together in confusion.

“Who? But I can’t just go; she has to know also. I mean what if she can’t have me there?” I questioned reaching the living room as my father scrambled through his brief case for something.

“She’s your grandmother’s step brother’s niece and I already talked to her yesterday.” He pulled out a check and handed it to me.

As I went to grab it I asked, “So you were already going to kick me out even before you saw the room?”

“Yes.” He spat out forcing the check into my hand. “That’s what your mother left you. It’s the life insurance that was only for you.” I stared at the check in my hand and then looked up at him still shocked at the fact that he was making me move with someone I didn’t even know.

He laid my luggage next to me and then dug into his pockets. “Here,” he said handing me money. “Catch a cab to the airport. Buy a ticket to Portland. Claudia will be there to pick you up and take you to Portland.” I looked at the money in my hand. He had given me 400 dollars in fifties. He was so desperate to get rid of me that he would just give me 400 dollars in cash!

“Wait, Portland?” I questioned.

“Maine.” My eyes wondered the room.

“How will I contact my so-called aunt and how will I know who she is?” I probed trying to find some flaw in his plan. He handed me my cell phone, the one I hadn’t seen in days, my wallet, another item I hadn’t seen, and a piece of folded paper.

“The number is on the paper. Call her. You’ll be able to keep in contact with her when she shows up at the airport that way.” My jaw tightened. So this was it? What a father he was. “I’ll call a cab for you.” He left the living room in search of the house phone and I still stood there with the insurance check, 400 dollars, my cell phone, and the folded paper trying to sort through everything that had just happened in the last few minutes and in the last few weeks!

First, my best friends move away, my mother dies, I slip into depression and commit suicide- well, tried to at least- I have a nervous break down, and now my father is sending me to live with a aunt that I’ve never even heard of, let alone met, before just to get me away from him.

It was only a few minutes later when the cab showed up and my father hurried me out the door and shoved me and my luggage into the cab and, then, hurrying back inside without another look back at me.

It was dark by the time the airplane took off from San Francisco. I was lucky enough to have a seat alone so I wouldn’t be bothered by any one else or have to make conversation. Most of the people around me were oblivious to my presence, but I guess that is how it is in all planes.

“Would you like anything miss?” I pulled my eyes away from the window to shake my head at the flight attendant. She nodded and left to ask the same question to the next person.

The voices around me faded as I concentrated on the black abyss out side the small window. Of course, I could hardly see the stars to make small shapes out of; there was only black and the gray of the clouds. There was no other way to describe the sky other than gloomy, which reflected perfectly the way I felt. I could find no happiness since my mother died and I seriously doubted that moving to Maine was going to be any better.

Could my unhappiness in this life really be never ending now?

I decided to just call my “aunt” right when I got off the plane. Once in the building, I found a place where I could sit and unfolded the piece of paper. My phone was flipped open waiting for me to start pressing the ten digit number, but I could only stare at the number hand written on the paper. I gave out a sigh, closed my phone, and shoved it into my pocket where I was before. There’s a phrase, which, I believe, many people have recited in some way that fits perfectly to the way I felt at that very moment: “Have you ever felt completely alone in a room full of people?” No one knows who said it first or what language it was originally said in, but we do know exactly how it feels like.

The building was filled with people wrapped up in their heavy jackets to protect them from the cold right outside the warm building, but I felt alone with no one to talk about my feelings with. When my mother was alive, I would always talk with her when I felt troubled. It felt good to finally get the stress or pain off my chest. Ever since her death, there was no one I felt comfortable enough with to talk about my troubles. My elbows rested on my knees as I leaned forward and cupped my chin in my hands pondering on what I should do next.

My options were: 1) Cash the insurance check and buy a ticket to a place where I knew my relatives, 2) Stay here in Portland and try to get an apartment and live on my own, or 3) Call my aunt to go live with her. I’ve got to say that the second option interested me most, but knowing that I was the kind of person who should never by themselves (I could be extremely airheaded at times) I knew that I had to pick the third option.

I retrieved my phone from my pocket and flipped it open once more and began to press the numbers. It took me a few minutes to convince myself that I had to push the send button, but when I finally did I had to then try with all my might not to end the call.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered.

“Yes, am I speaking with Claudia Colin?” I asked in as smooth of a voice that I could conjure up.

“Yes this is her?” I could here the anticipation her voice as she waited for me to tell her that I was the niece she was waiting for.

“I’m Catalina Danielson; my father told me that he spoke to you about me staying with you.”

“Oh yes! Are you in Portland?” she asked with great excitement in her voice that made me guess her age to be around mid and late twenties.

“Yes, I suppose I should have called before my plane took off to inform you around what time I would arrive here so you wouldn’t have to stop your schedule to come and pick me up. Please forgive me, I wasn’t thinking at the moment.” It seems like I picked up on good thing from my father and that was the formal speech.

“Oh no, no, no, don’t worry. I am not busy at all. It’ll take a bit to get there though. Is that alright?” she questioned worried that I’d reject her now because she’d be her later.

“It’s quite fine. I shall find something to entertain myself with.” After all, I did have a bank account – there had to be an ATM somewhere in here – and an insurance check to deposit; I could go eat or find something else.

“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can, hang tight Catalina. Bye.” “Goodbye.” I shut the phone and then changed my focus to the many stores around me. I settled on going to a book store there and reading until she got there.

“…So when he told me that he wanted you to come live with me I was like ‘What? That’s crazy.’ I’ve heard a lot about you, y’know? Ya, you and you’re mother were usually the main subject that your grandmother, my aunt, would talk about. Of course, it’s your father’s mother, but she was always so fond of your mother. It’s so sad that she died. I still can’t believe it. I wish I could have met her. I’ve seen pictures of her and let me tell you, you look so much like her! I’m so glad you do, ‘cause looking like your father would be awful! He’s so pale and very mean looking, but you have wonderful bronze skin and beautiful soft features. Ah you are just so cute…”

Since I had gotten in the car, she had been talking like this as if she were a teenager herself. Here I was thinking that there’d be an awkward silence all the way to Portland, but, boy was I wrong. She just kept going on and on and on, it was pointless talk really. She was changing subjects like if we didn’t cover

everything that was rushing through her mind we’d die. “Whoa, I think I should

turn down the heater, it’s getting pretty hot in here.” She brushed her long blonde hair to her left shoulder and then set the heater to a much less intense temperature.

“So how have you been holding up since your mother died? Your father told me that he’s been trying to help you with the pain,”

‘Yeah, right, helping me.’ I thought rolling my eyes, “but he knew that he’d be way to busy too give you the attention you deserved, so that’s why he sent you here with me.” I sighed and turned to face her.

“Well, I guess I’ve been okay, I only tried to kill myself once by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, and I had a nervous break down just yesterday where I broke everything in my room and smashed my fist into my mirror.” I smiled as if I had said nothing wrong. Her face turned grim with uneasiness. I don’t blame her really; I would feel uneasy if I was with someone who had attempted suicide.

“Well, dear lord, that is awful. Why didn’t you talk with your father my dear? It's not good to keep your emotions held in like that. I once saw this episode of the Dr. Phil show that was about this girl that was really depressed. I mean you could totally tell she was just from the previews. Anyway, it turns out that because of her depression she turned to drugs. Oh god it was awful. I mean why drugs? Really they may make you feel good for just a moment, but then it’s gone. Young kids these days don’t know what they’re doing. Back in my day, which wasn’t too long ago, don’t think I’m old or anything ha ha. Well, yes, where was I? Oh yes…” Her lips just kept moving with her words spilling out of them like a she was some kind of a talk show host that made their living on, well, talking. I only paid half attention to what she was saying; the other half was focused on the pitch black of the sky.

Unlike the plane, there were brilliant stars scattered everywhere and a moon could clearly be seen. Tonight I would be sleeping in a foreign state, city, house, and bed. I’d be living with someone I knew nothing about. What if she was a murder that just never got caught? Or what if she was someone who was very abusive? Did my father really know this woman at all? From what Claudia told me, this was the first time she had spoken to my father since she was 9! Could he really careless about what happened to me now? If I could barely stand the few hours I have to spend in the car with her, how am I going to stand the next year and a half before I graduate and move out? All I knew is that this was going to be the worst year imaginable.

The two story Victorian style house was out by itself next to a cliff where you could easily hear and see the waves crash up against the rocks. It was hard to believe that someone could live in a house like this all by themselves and not be frightened.

“Come on, now, dear. Let’s get inside away from the chill.” Claudia suggested grabbing my baggage as she began to walk towards the front door.

I stayed outside to look at the shining water just a little ways from where I was standing. The moon’s light glistened in the rolling waves as they crashed amongst the rocks. The ocean its self seemed to be uneasy. The way the waves crashed one after another as if they were trying to run away from the trouble to come.

“Catalina, dear, hurry inside!” Claudia called after me. With one last look at the ocean, I turned away and walked into my new life.

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that I would have to ask Claudia for a ride to school since I didn’t have a car. The thought of having to sit through another one of her pointless talks right before my first day in hell school made my stomach churn.

“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Claudia asked excitedly as I walked into the kitchen and stood before the dining table.

“Not really.” I replied sighing. “Aw, well don’t worry. Actually, today we are just going to register you. You’ll only have to really go through two classes today. I would have registered you earlier, but I didn’t know all of your

information. And your father called me so suddenly, so I couldn’t have possibly had enough time to do all this before today. At least you benefit, somewhat, from this, though, ‘cause you don’t have to go through a whole day of school. Yay, right?” I raised my eyebrow at her wondering why the fact that I’m registering for school at all is a good thing. If I had the choice, I’d drop out right now and go live in Canada or something, anywhere but here where I wouldn’t have to listen to her talk every second. “Here, now hurry and eat your breakfast so we can head off!”

She gave me a plate full of eggs, bacon, and toast. Even though my stomach was completely empty, the food made me get nauseous resulting in me making up a lie to get out off eating. “I’m Vegan, and I’m allergic to bread.” Claudia’s bright smile turned into a disappointed frown that didn’t reach her bright eyes.

“Oh, my, I’m deeply sorry, Catalina. I didn’t know you – well never mind that. We’ll see what we can get you on the way over there.” She smiled once more picking up the plate and setting it on the counter. She left out the door and I

followed suit in mere seconds.

The school was relatively large with three stories and many students finding their spots to wait before the school bell rang. I tried to walk in a way where I wouldn’t get noticed, but it seemed like everyone at this school knew everyone so they knew right away that I was new, fresh meat, so they stared until I was out of their view.

Meanwhile, Claudia kept talking away about her time in high school and how she was best friends with the principle of the school, and so on and so on. Everything that came out of her mouth had no importance in my mind and went in one ear and out the other.

“Stacy!” Claudia called out to a lady once we were in the main office. “Claudia, hello, what can I do for you?” Stacy inquired walking closer to Claudia and me.

“Well, I’m here to enroll my niece here.” Claudia wrapped her left arm around my shoulders and gave me a little enthusiastic shake. I merely faked a smile and then pushed myself away from her grasp as soon as I could.

“Oh, alright, step into my office so I can start getting all the paper work for you.” Stacy said motioning to the little door to the right. Now, Claudia had this

special talent of talking while she filled out as much of the information as she could.

“Here, you fill out the rest.” She handed me the papers and then left the office to go chit chat with the rest of the office attendants. I tried to write as slowly as possible to avoid having to go to classes early before I just stopped writing all together. Claudia didn’t even come to check on me in the office, but just kept talking away.

I reached into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone. Might as well call my father to let him know that I was all right and not dead, I’m sure that would truly disappoint him. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hi dad.” I said in a soft voice. I could hear how he regretted picking up the phone by the way he sighed into the phone.

“What do you want, Catalina?” He questioned with a great disturbance in his voice.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m alright. The plane landed safely and I arrived with Aunt Claudia all in one piece. I’m registering for school right now.” There was a silence that followed that made me a bit anxious so I kept talking. “Yeah, I might not start school today but definitely tomorrow.” I chuckled nervously; the silence was killing me.

“That’s great. I got to go. Bye.”

“Love you.” I said, but it was too late; he had already hung up.

I felt the tears sting in my eyes as I dropped my phone on my lap. I guess I did mean that little to him now. Before my mother died, it was on rare occasion when I would cry; but now that she died, it seems as though I cry whenever I get the chance.

No one could see the tears running down my cheeks; all that was visible was the back of my head. No sound came from my mouth as the tears slid in so I could taste the saltiness.

Meanwhile, Claudia made sure to have a conversation with everyone who was and came in to the office. I merely stared down at my lap letting my tear drops splash against my bronze skin and bit my bottom lip in attempt to force the cries that were trying to come out to stay silent. One slipped, though, even though I was biting my lip hard enough that my nerves began to tell me that the action was hurting me. I thought no one caught the cry that escaped my mouth; it would have been embarrassing if I was caught sobbing in the high school office.

“Excuse me, Miss?” I sucked in air quickly when I heard this smooth voice from behind me. “I’m sorry if I’m being meddlesome by asking, but are you alright?” I tried to quickly, and inconspicuously, wipe the tears from my eyes before I turned to the boy behind me.

“I’m… fine.” The last word slipped off my tongue in confusion as I saw who it was standing there.

There stood the boy with the same beautiful black hair that surrounded the same beautiful pale white face with those impossibly clear blue eyes from San Francisco. He stared back at me with confusion and astonishment.

There we were with me sitting down on the chair with my body turned and my head craned up to face him and him standing by the wall with his hands in his pockets staring back at me. Nothing was being said between us. I think we were both trying to figure out how we could possibly be seeing each other once again after one day in San Francisco on the other side of the country.

There was a distant voice calling my name, but I tried my best to ignore it by staring into the sapphire eyes in front of me. I began to bite my lip once more nervously as we sat, and stood, there in silence. It took about a minute for me to realize that it was Claudia’s voice calling me from the outer office. I blinked away from the boys stare and stretched my neck to try and find Claudia.

“Yes?” I answered back finally finding her.

“Have you finished that paper work?” she questioned.

‘Crap.’ I thought since I had procrastinated and had yet to finish the remaining three pages or so.

“Uhm, I have like three pages to go actually.” I replied taking a quick

glance to the boy still standing by the wall still staring at me with a frustrated look. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to figure out how I could possibly be here or maybe he was thinking that I’d be awed by his act of saving my life and I would, then, take it the wrong way and gain a romantic interest in him.

The last idea bothered me a bit. If that had, in fact, been why he has such a concerned look on his face, then was he thinking that I so unworthy of him? Or maybe he just didn’t want to get involved with a suicidal girl.

My eyes looked up once more to see him, but he had left with out my noticing. Claudia came into the office taking the boy’s place.

“Well, hurry and finish, sweetie, so we can get to pick your classes.” I nodded and then turned my body around to finish the paperwork.

I’ve got to say it was pretty hard to concentrate on the classes when my mind was filled with a plethora of thoughts. Could I be going to same school as the boy who saved my life? That look on his face, was it there because he didn’t want me to get too involved with him? But if it wasn’t because of that, then could I have a chance with the boy who saved me? Life suddenly got exceedingly more interesting.

Chapter Three: Dazed and

Dazzled

M

y aunt decided to pick most of my classes. Well, in a way she had to because my mind was completely lost in thoughts of the boy. The funny thing was that I didn’t even know his name. Of course he must have heard Claudia calling me so at least he knew my name.

I didn’t try to sleep that night; thoughts of going to school the next day and seeing the handsome boy was enough to keep me up. I must have slipped into sleep at some point because, before I knew it, light began to spill in from the window.

Waking up didn’t take long, and neither did getting ready. For the first time, in many days, I decided to pin up my long wavy hair to the side, put make up on, and slip into a pair of black jeans and the nicest top I had. When I came down the stairs to meet Claudia in the dining room, she almost spit out the coffee she was drinking. The smile I wore turned into a frown as I took her reaction negatively. ‘Do I look that awful?’ I thought and was about to run up the stairs when Claudia spoke.

“My, my you look wonderful!” I gave her a shy smile and then walked down the rest of the stairs as gracefully as I could. I had a bowl of cereal in front of me as I sat down. When I took in the spoon full, the milk tasted funny. My face wrinkled in reaction. “Oh, I was sure I put in soy milk instead of regular cow milk.” Claudia sang out apologetically.

“Soy milk?” I questioned.

“Your vegan so of course you wouldn’t drink regular milk, right?” I suddenly remembered the little lie I said yesterday. Well, I screwed myself over with that lie.

“Right, thank you Claudia.” I ate the rest of the cereal anyway. All the hunger I was trying to put off before suddenly caught up with me at that moment.

I finished quickly, still very hungry, went to fetch my backpack, wallet, cell phone, and then brushed my teeth quickly. “Alright Claudia, I’m ready to go.” I sang out putting my backpack on. Claudia was setting her coffee cup in the sink when she turned around to see me.

“Wow, you sure are brilliant today? What ever could have changed you mood?” she probed, but I merely smiled and shrugged. Claudia shook her head playfully before speaking again. “Well, I’m not taking you to school today, sweetie. You do have a driver’s license, right?” I wondered if she was letting me drive her car. I’ve got to say that it was a fairly nice car. Whatever her job was, it must have been paying her a good sum of money.

“Yes, I have one.” Good thing my mother had pushed me to do so. The thought of my mother made my heart skip a beat with grief.