Value This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   Ofcourse I didn't really see anything, I could barely see where I was going. Mymind was

dark. I couldn't think. I was surprised I could still breathe. Anumb body that housed my consciousness dragged me along.

I guess I was ina coffee house. Strangely, I remember the aromas of a hundred different varietiesof coffee. There was music playing somewhere. The chair was comfortable. Thereare all these misplaced feelings that are connected to that night.

Slowly,I went over to an empty table. The room was warm, a stark contrast to the frostyair outside. I could feel warmth flow into my hands; the tingling sensations sentlittle tendrils of pleasure up my spine. I didn't notice those caresses. If theyhad been sharp grasps or jabs I couldn't have noticed. Music, I assumed, flowedfrom the stage. I can barely remember any of it. There is little in my psyche buthazy darkness concerning that night.

I unzipped my coat, and slowlyreached into the front inner pocket, pulling out the envelope.

My breathwas short, and shivering. I had no reservoirs of energy to draw upon; they hadwilted like flowers thrown into the desert when I began taking AP classes. I wassick, and disoriented. I could easily diagnose myself: Overexertion andexhaustion pulled at me. I didn't sleep enough because I had no time. I didn'teat enough because I didn't have the time. I worked too much.

Open it! mymind screamed.

No, I can't, I thought. This is it, I know it is, but Ican't.

Open it! Open it! that aggressive part of me screamed.Tentatively, I put the envelope on the table in front of me. A tide of memoriesengulfed me.

*        *        *

My eyes released streams oftears. My hands throbbed in unrepentant pain. Breaths from my trembling lips wereerratic. My heart was pounding. The pain in my hands was overwhelming, the dullache in my chest screamed at me to stop. Can't stop, I thought again and again. Imust continue. I can't stop. I'm not done yet. Fatigue pulled more tears from myeyes.

I forced my hands to continue. They achingly danced along thekeyboard. Maybe it was done.

I slid the mouse to the word count: 1,850.Better, but not completed. The tears continued their steady march, dripping downmy cheeks, sliding down my chin and neck. My hand slowly, mechanically moved upto my collar. It was drenched. I wasn't done.

I clenched my jaws and mademy reluctant fingers dance again.

*        *        *

As I sat atthe table, dreaming and remembering, a tear slid down one cheek. A new memory, ahigher price.

*        *        *

"Hello," Ianswered the phone. I rarely answered it, but I needed a break, and the phone wasenough of an excuse. I could already feel the ache in my head. New pains broughton by my labors would visit me soon. I gazed longingly at mybed.

"Uh, hi," the voice on the other end repliednervously.

The melodic voice instantly took my attention from sleep. Thevoice was serene and gentle. The voice emerged from lips that smiled so brightlythat stars would look on in jealousy.

Two things coated every aspect of myconsciousness: curiosity and a bliss that was tarred in nervous fear. Why wouldshe call? How did she get my number? She is achingly beautiful. Her voice sentshivers through me. My heart was swelling, driven by frantic fears and gentleaffection. Thoughts that were erratic and chaotic ran through mybrain.

"Hey, how are you?" I wondered if my voice cracked. Myinsides were flooded by sensations.

"I'm good," she answered,and paused. "Um, would you like to go see a movie or something tomorrownight?"

I answered truthfully, stupidly, "Ican't."

"Oh," she said. Remembering her voice, that softtugging force, she was hurt. I wanted to ask her out some other time but Icouldn't, and she continued. "That's alright. I'll see ya at school.Bye."

She hung up.

Distraught, my mind refocused and myfingers began to dance lightly on the keys.

*        * *

I stared at the letter, understanding that the climax was truly here.Now it would be decided what would happen.

I slowly picked up the collegeadmissions letter and tore it open. After so much pain, so much given for thesake of work, so much lost ...

I was accepted.

New tears fell frommy eyes, and I put my head down and grieved.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback