- All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
- All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
- Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
- College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Miss Communication in the Haines' Household
  “Carly! Carly! CARLY!”
  We’re rushing down stairs,
  dad and I. Mom’s running
  all over the house, then outside.
  Her face is red and
  her usually clear green eyes
  are puffy and tearful.
  I’ve never seen her like this before.
  “CARLY!!”
  we’re all shouting now.
  Running up and down the road,
  calling the police.
It’s 3 o’clock in the morning.
Carly is nowhere to be found.
has given me
  a million
  reasons to despise
  my big sister.
  It’s not her
  fault that she’s the way
  she is,
  she was just born like that.
  I try and
  tell people this.
  I tell anyone who has
  that questioning look
  that disapproving glare
  that boldness that is so
  ignorant that it takes all
  my effort to keep
  my voice level.
  Even though she is
  the way she is,
  I don’t quite mind
  it very much.
  flies right over his head like
  a free bird. He swipes
  at it like a desperate cat
  but it’s way out of his reach.
  I laugh as his face distorts
  with frustration. It reminds me
  of my favorite Sunday
  cartoon: Tweety Bird and Sylvester.
  The ball becomes tight
  around the pole. I hold up
  five fingers triumphantly
  in the air. Henry’s shoulders sag.
  “Want a rematch?” I ask.
  “I think it’s time for lunch” he starts
  walking toward the school, and I see
  he’s right. Other kids are doing the same.
  I run to catch up with him.
  “Are you angry at me?”
  “No. I’m just hungry, that’s all.”
  “Me too.” I agree.
  We begin lining up to
  go into the torture house.
  It’s where they make us do stupid
  work and treat us with no respect.
  But it’s lunch time so everything is good
  for about thirty minutes.
  Jessica runs over
  to where Henry and I are sitting.
  She sets her tuna fish sandwich
  down next to Henry to save her seat.
  Her sandwich waits alone
  wrapped in aluminum foil,
  sending harsh aromas
  into the air around it.
  She walks back from the lunch line,
  sets her stolen chocolate milk carton down.
  Jessica slides in next to us, bringing
  out her unfinished homework sheet.
  “Sooo...” she says,
  “What did you get for number 1?”
  Chewing on the back of the
  pencil that suddenly appeared in her hand.
  I look at Henry who’s taking out
  his sandwich from his lunch bag.
  His bright eyes lock on mine
  for a second. We look at Jessica
  slurping chocolate milk from
  the side of her mouth.
  Thick hair falling in different
  lengths all over the place.
  “I -” Henry cut me off,
  “Don’t give her the answers!” Taking
  a bite of his AB+J
  (we’re not allowed peanut butter because of allergies)
  “I wasn’t going to.” I snap, defensive.
  “Then what were you going to say?”
  I’m silent.
  What was I going to say?
  “That’s what I thought.”
  “Well I thought you said you weren’t angry.”
  I countered, slurping
  ramen noodles.
  “I’m just going to solve these for myself.”
  Jess started scribbling down random answers.
  “Fine,” I said.
  “Fine,” He said.
was way too early in the morning.
  She woke up.
  When she wakes
  up so does the rest of us.
  She was crying and screeching.
  It hurt my ears so bad.
  I tried to stuff tissues in them
  to make the noises stop.
   
  But for her the noises
  never stop.
  She was banging on the walls of her room
  and her door. Every pound
  of her fist seemed to shake
  our broken house.
  Hannah wasn’t home.
  She never really is.
  Mom and dad tried to calm Carly.
  But there isn’t much you can do when she’s like this.
  I was safe in my room.
  But I felt exposed, vulnerable.
  I wanted to hide.
  No. I wanted to be invisible.
  
  The screeching stopped for
  a moment and mom spoke.
  “Don’t - put. The knife. Down, Carly.”
  It might’ve been a letter opener though.
I can’t remember.
  has been acting kind of weird.
  He avoids my eye and
  doesn’t answer me the first time I speak.
  Something’s up.
  And I want to know what it is.
  I walk to his house after school.
  We live only a couple blocks away.
  I knock on his door 4 times.
  His stepmom opens the door, smiling.
  Mrs. Jacobson’s not super young, or
  super pretty, or
  super evil,
  not like stepmoms on tv
  she’s just a normal
  mom - looking woman.
  “Hello Jackie. How are you sweetie?”
  I look past her light brown eyes into the kitchen,
  “Oh, Henry’s not here right now, I just sent
  him out on an errand. He’ll be back soon.”
  I walk into his house
  his mom moves out of the
  way to
  let me in.
  “Do you want a hot chocolate?
  It’s pretty cold outside.”
  I nod my head
  to say yes and in agreement.
  She starts getting out the ingredients
  as I sit at the island.
  “So how are you?
  You never got to teling me.”
  Mrs. Jacobson mixes hot milk
  and cocoa powder in a bright green mug.
  “I’m okay.”
  “That’s good, darling.”
  She puts my hot chocolate
  in the microwave once more.
  “How’s Carly?”
  She knows about Carly.
  I know this.
  Everyone in our small town knows.
  “Carly has a hard time doesn’t she.
  Has the doctor said what’s wrong with her?”
  I’m not quite sure how to answer this question
  or why she’s asking.
  She sets down my hot chocolate
  and sits down next to me.
  The hot chocolate has five marshmallows.
  Fluffy pillows just waiting for someone to lay down their head and rest.
  “They do think she sees stuff.”
  “Well of course she does, honey.
  She couldn’t be making all that up
  on her own, now could she?”
I’m not quite sure what that’s suppose to mean.
“I just hope the poor darling will get better soon.”
  
  The door opens and Henry
  walks out of it.
  “I got the milk you asked for.
  Mom?” I hold the warm mug in my hands.
  “Jackie’s here sweetie.”
  Henry’s eyes get wide, and looks away from me.
  “Oh - Jackie.”
  “Hey.” I reply.
  
  “I actually need to go
  now.” I leave my hot chocolate
  on the counter as I walk pass
  Henry and out the door.
I’m in the living room.
  Everyone’s out.
  Don’t know why.
  Don’t care.
  I’m watching the 5 o’clock
  news.
I hate the 5 o’clock news.
  The weatherman says there’s a 75% chance of rain
  tomorrow. He says it’s going to be chilly.
  He tells the “future” in percentages.
He lays out what he knows.
  So can I:
  There is a 92% chance Hannah won’t come home tonight.
  There is a 58% chance that Dad will go to bed without dinner.
  There is a 87% chance that Henry hates me.
  There is a 66% chance that Jessica will not come to school tomorrow.
  There is a .001% chance that I will ever make sense of my life.
We’re walking on the brook path.
  Mom,
  Carly,
  Me.
  We stop to listen to birds chirp,
  climb big rocks
  have picnics.
  The sun shines a friendly glow
  on our backs,
  our smiles even brighter.
  Gentle breezes whispering to the trees.
  Carly finds the perfect stick.
  Thick but not wide.
  Short but stubby.
  Easy to see but light enough to travel.
  Racing to the middle of the creaking bridge
  and she lets go.
  The perfect stick flies through the air.
  I don’t know if it’s forward or backward
  upside down or rightside up.
  It’s constantly turning while
  cutting through the breeze.
Then it hits the water.
And keeps going.
  Rushing to the
  other side of the bridge
  we see it traveling through.
  “Again! Again! Again!”
  We do it again and again and again.
  Until mom tells us to
  “stop, we have to get going”
  Each time Carly found a perfect stick.
  So perfect
  I could’ve sweared it was the same one.
Now I realize it was.
  that the Earth was flat?”
  “Then I would call you a liar.” Jessica replies.
  I peer between the peep holes of the tree house’s
  wooden walls, surveying the outside area.
  “No, no! I have a good one.” Henry stops carving marks into
  the tree trunk with his swiss army knife to look at us,
  “What if I told you that you were going to die tomorrow.”
  “Then I would tell you that my mom’s been saying
  that for some time now.”
  “Ha. Ha. Come on Jess. Actually say a real answer
  or stop answering for us.”
  Jessica rolls her eyes.
  “Ok. My turn.” Jessica’s eyes
  have a mischievous spark in them.
  “What if I told you your dad was cheating on
  your mom for a year and a half with Meredith?”
  “What. Are. You. Talking about?!” I could feel
  my face becoming red.
  I don’t allow people to push around my family
  like they let people push them.
  And mom had proven to me dad wasn’t
  going behind her back, and
  being with other women.
  Especially Meredith.
  “Get over yourself, Jackie.
  I was talking to Henry.”
  We both looked at him.
  Henry shrunk back into wooden wall.
  I looked straight at Jess
  staring daggers in her direction.
  Jess shrugged.
  Turned around
  and jumped out of the treehouse.
  She landed silently
  
  “Sorry. She’s being a real jerk today.”
  I think I mumbled something like it's not your fault.
  
  “Let’s go inside and get some hot chocolate.”
  We climbed down the latter.
  We walked through the garage door
  and there was Jessica, waiting.
  I saw her, but Henry didn’t and
  he almost peed his pants he screamed so loud.
  Jessica and I started cracking up while his eyes turned big,
  in shock.
  
  They really do make me laugh.
I walk home from school.
Every day.
  I don’t want to walk with
  Henry and Jessica today.
  They’ve been whispering all day.
  Passing notes in class.
  Haven’t said a word to me.
  Today I try a new way of walking home.
  I do this sometimes.
  I go behind the school and then to the right.
  I walk into the forest and I hear voices.
  They’re coming towards me.
  
  There’s laughing
           in front of me is
  Hannah with Jake’s arm draped over her shoulder.
  A few of their friends are with them as well.
  Jake didn’t notice me until we’re standing
  five feet apart.
  Hannah noticed way before that,
  but didn’t show it until now.
“Go home.” Hannah turned around and walked away.
  “Hey Jake.” I said.
  He stared at me for a few seconds
  and then looked back at Hannah.
  “Hey Hannah! Why is your little sister here?  
  She isn’t the crazy one right?”
  I took a sharp breath in.
  I glare at my sister’s dumb boyfriend.
  That’s when I saw him.
  Out of the corner of my eye.
  Tall.
  Maybe 6'4"
  Dark.
  Black shirt and jeans hanging
  from his lengthy figure
  In the shadows.
  He moves slightly
  Light hits his face.
Then I see
  The long thick gash running through
  His right eye looks infected, almost rotting
  His lip, swollen and bruised
  A big chunk of hair missing
  Like it was pulled from his head
  He looks like a starving coyote
  Lost from his pack.
  His working eye looks somewhere in the distance.
  And then at me.
  I turn around and run away
  Not caring about the laughter that
  follows me.
Carly loves to seek.
  I don't mind hiding.
  It makes her happy.
  I hide behind the couch
  "151617181920!"
  I hear her snapping her fingers.
  "Behind the couch!"
She knows every time.
Carly told Them to come outside.
  I thought she meant me.
  I was too young to understand.
  About what she sees.
  "Let's play outside!"
  I agreed.
  We went outside skipping.
  She started spinning in circles and giggling.
  I copied her, my arms spread wide. to the sky
  When she stopped she looked at me,
  Blinking her left eye, smiling.
  I tried to blink my eye.
  I wanted to be just like her.
  "I don't want to climb the tree."
  She pouted.
  I tilted my head and looked at her
  my eyes growing big in question
  "I don't want to climb the tree!"
  She turned around.
  Long, brown, wiry, hair whipped
  an arc behind her.
  She yelled,
  "I DON'T WANT TO CLIMB THE TREE!"
  Carly broke down in tears
  head down.
  Blinking that left eye.
  Blink. Blink. Blink.
  She walked over to the tree.
  Blink
  She held on to low branches,
  pulling herself up.
  Blink.
  Feet on the lowest branches.
  Blink
  Mid way up the tree.
  Blink
  Two more branches and she’d be
  as high as the branches could support.
  Blink
  Stopped at the top, about 17 feet up.
  Blink
  Stopped. Sobbed. Climbed higher.
  Blink
The tree branch supporting her snapped.
  I looked away before I could see her blink again.
  I stumbled inside the house, screaming,
  as my sister’s body fell like a rag doll,
  hitting the branches as she made her descent.
  Slicing open the right side of her face.
  It was so long ago it was like a dream.
  But Carly has the scar to prove it.
i wake up.
  grab    my bag.
  grab    my jacket.
  grab   the notebook.
leave at 4:32, while everyone’s still asleep.
people people people
why won’t they just SHUT UP
  blabbering
  meaningless
    words.
  just sounds that
  escape
  their mouths.
  
  passing people in the l o n g hallways of school
  is like passing ghosts
  i’m
  a ghost
  i shout:
  “I HAVE A GUN!”
no one even looks my way.
“come on” he wines,
“pack up faster.”
  “shut up. i’ll pack up as
  fast as i want.”
  my phone rings.
  
  it’s sam.
  i
    d r
         op  my bag
  and answer my phone.
  jake’s thick, dark eyebrows furrow in
  frustration.
                             
  i smile as i pick up
  my phone.
  “hey sam, what’s up?” “we’re in line to order now.” “good.”
  
  i look over at jake who’s giving me the evil eye.
  i turn back towards my bag.
  something shiney down the hall catches my eye.
“two slices, barbecue with chicken, extra cheese, extra barbecue, extra chicken, with mayo and ketchup on the side?” i pause, impressed, “yup. sounds about right.”
  i hang up the phone
  no one else remembers my regular pizza order
   
  i look back over my shoulder and see
      the same shiney object.
  
  a penny, head side up.
  i pick it up and examine it quickly before putting it in my pocket.
  “hurry up han!”
  “i’m coming! jesh.
  someone needs to learn a little about patience.”
  “whatever.” he says, i look at him.
  “sorry.” he mumbles.
  sometimes you’ve got to say what’s on your mind
    if you wanted to know anything about me don’t go to marlene-
        she’s the only one i tell real stuff about myself
  she’s kind of my best friend...
  that has to listen to me.
  that’s her job.
  “so, marlene...”
  “yes?”
  “if you went to such fancy colleges how’d you end up in a crappy town like sardensis, new york?”
  “i like it here. i can smell the weather stronger here than anywhere else i’ve been.”
  “i don’t know how long i can stay here. my family...”
  “they need you and love you, hannah. it might not seem like it, and you might not feel it, but they do. stay strong, for them.”
  “i should head back to class now”
  “i think that would be good...”
  i stand up to leave her office. her walls aren't very decorated - she hasn’t been a guidance counselor very long.
  “and hannah - have you been feeling better?”
  “i’m fine. i’m always fine.”
  i push in my chair and grab my grey backpack.
  marlene smiles
  so i smile back.
i believe that teenagers should all get a full night sleep - which means about 9 hours of sleep a night...
  which is impossible.
  especially when you don’t
       feel safe sleeping
            in your own
  house.
“stupid” “dumb” anyone would think. well they’re wrong.
       i switch off;     benn’s huge house one night,
  liz let’s me crash on her couch sometimes,
  mostly i sleep in marlene's basement,
  one time i even stayed at my sister’s friends house - the millers?
  i get a fine amount of sleep most nights.
  i walk down a few blocks to get to her house,
  the are lights on - i can stay tonight.
  i can never tell whether the
  red door
  looks darker
       or lighter
  in the daylight, or in the night
  the darkness surrounding it making it stand out.
  i walk away from the red door and unlatch the white fence.
  marlene’s light grey house is cozy, and well kept
  looking at the small flowers growing in the lawn, and the moss covered brick walkway of the house, from three quarter view by the fence
        i realize;
  this is what i want home to be like.
  this is what i want home to feel like.
  i slip through the fence.
    i reach in my sweatshirt pocket for the keys
       my hands came up empty
      i remember putting the keys
      in my pocket,
  i can’t wake up marlene now
  i climb into the vacated swingset
  lay down
         sigh
        breath in; one two three four
        hold; one two
        breath out; one two three four five six
        breath in; one two three four
        hold; one two
        breath out; one two three four five six
i curl up my legs and pull my sweater over them.
                 breath in; one two three four
                   hold; one two
                   breath out; one two three four five six
fine is can be the best word ever...
 
 
 if you know how to use it.
 
 “did you like the movie?”
 “it was fine”
 
 “how are you, today Miss Haines?”
 “fine”
 
 “how does my hair look?”
 “it looks fine”
 
 what do i mean by fine?
 
 that’s exactly the point...
 i don’t tell you.
Similar books
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This book has 0 comments.
