Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

That Night

By
More by this author
That night, I dreamt I was falling. Buildings and windows were rushing past me, people staring at me in awe from their offices and apartments, their eyes wide, their mouths gaping. The wind was pushing my hair in front of my face, ripping strands of it out of its ponytail. I breathed deeply, letting the rushing feeling seep through me, allowing it to crawl into my bones, and soak me from the inside out. I closed my eyes, shut my ears to the sounds of screaming from above and below me, and just fell. Peacefully. In serene quiet. I knew I was getting closer to the ground by the second. I wondered if I would feel it. If it would hurt. I hoped it wouldn't. I pryed open my right eye and glanced around. The buildings were coming to their ends. I coould barely even see the tips of them, looming in the overcast sky. Then, I saw the people on the sidewalks. Their faces. The-

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in my room. The sun was streaming in through my window, the dark purple polka dot curtains pushed aside to reveal all the morning had to offer. My blankets were lying in a heap on the floor, my pillow beside my face. I groaned and sat up, my throat feeling scratchy and raw. I needed a drink of water. I reached over to pick up the one that I left every night on my bedside table and saw the glass tipped over on its side, the water dripping softly onto the hardwood floor. I put the glass back in its upright position and stared at the little puddle its contents had made. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, feeling wobbly and light-headed.

I threw on my fuzzy pink bathrobe and stalked into the kitchen, where I saw an even bigger mess than my room was. Plates were smashed and cracked, their pieces spread across the floor. Chairs were on their sides. Food was strewn everywhere that could hold it, and a spatula was-for some reason-stuck in an orange, going in one end and coming out the other. I furrowed my brow and rubbed my eyes, not sure if I was in the right house or not. It looked as if a tornado had made its way through here. My memory of the night before was bleary, but I remembered my mom. Crying. Screaming. And Jerrik. He was yelling. He was yelling at the air. Talking to someone that no one else saw. That no one else believed existed. I remembered my dad pushing him onto the floor. Tackling him. I remembered my mom seeing me. Seeing me watching it all. I remembered her walking over to me. Telling me; "Everything's gonna be alright hon. Jerrik is going to get some help. Some good people will see him through this."

I remembered Jerrik throwing stuff. Smashing stuff. I remembered him asking me to help him. Me. The only person he talked to. The only person-except for the air people-that he could see. He stared at me. And asked me to help him escape. Me. His little sister. Me. Fourteen. Him. nineteen. Turning twenty this October. I remembered his face when I did nothing. When I told him that we were gong to help him. I remembered the hurt in his eyes. It had only showed for a moment. But what a moment it was. Full of broken promises and squashed dreams. I remembered how right after that moment, his eyes turned to stone. And I knew. I knew he was no longer seeing me. He would probably never see me again. He had tuned me out. Just like he had tuned out mom and dad. Just like he had tuned out his friends. His teachers. Whenever anything went wrong; he just tuned people out. And created more air people to talk to. Ones that never betrayed him. That always stood up for him and helped him escape. I had been the only one. The only real person. Now I was nothing. Nothing but a wall. Or a speck of dust, highlighted by the midday sun. A piece of crusted dirt, a fleck of peeling paint from the side of an old building. I was no longer there. Not even in his memories.

I remembered running up to my room. Silent tears streaming down my face. I remembered watching as mom and dad drove Jerrik away. For now. Forever. I remembered falling asleep. That night, I dreamt I was falling.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback