June 19, 2009
By Liz Zweizig BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
Liz Zweizig BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“ain’t it a shame, a shame that every time you hear my name...” a hand slams down upon the snooze button like a hammer hits a nail. Turning her head to face the clock, Tizzy’s eyes revealed themselves from the indented pillow on which they rested. 6:13 AM. Good, more time to sleep; Tizzy thought to herself, not caring she’d have no time yet again to get ready for school. Nuzzling the tiresome face into the worn pillow, which her Grandma Addy her for her fifth birthday, Tizzy struggled to remember the dream which she had so enjoyed before the alarm sounded.

“Tabitha, it’s time to wake up!” her mother said in that teeth rotting sugar sweet manner she always did. As the door shut closed with an obnoxious thud, she peeled her swollen eyes off of the pillow. Creaking open slowly they saw the salty spots covering her pillow and remembered the previous night. Pulling of the pillowcase quickly Tizzy stuffed the evidence into the bottom of her hamper, as if she had done the same illusion a thousand times. Looking at her room she was mystified; a room she didn’t even recognize, choose or fit. It didn’t even feel like hers. Sliding on the pair of jeans she wore everyday and stumbled around the room searching for a shirt, any shirt.

Arriving at school she climbed the steps and walked, drudgingly, to her class.
“Hi, Tizzy. How are you?” Erica asked, towering above her. Tizzy feared and hated this question more and more each day. She said been lying to the world so long and finally it seemed too much.

“Same as always.” she said. Hoping no questions would arise and that Erica would disregard it. Continuing on their walk to class, Erica began talking of her night and the latest gossip without taking notice of Tizzy’s lack of fascination or trance like state. Lost in her own mind, Tizzy didn’t notice the teacher’s lecture or her friends talking of how they each did on the history test.

As the bell rang everyone exited quickly hoping to hang out or cramp the homework they hadn’t finished into the twenty minute break. Raising her deep blue eyes from off the cold table she saw Andrea walking in a hat covering her face, a sure fire sign something was wrong. Walking up to her Andrea said in a wavering tone,

“Can we talk?” slowly moving over to a corner of the room, Tizzy pushed the thoughts of a nap or visit to the councilor from her mind.

“What’s wrong, honey? What happened?” Tizzy said in her concerned, maternal tone she seemed to create whenever someone needed it.

“My uncle is really sick and I don’t think he is going to make it.” she said beginning to sob. Wrapping her arms around her she comforted her and told her it was okay, delaying her feelings once again. “Why do these things always happen to me?”
“It’s all right, I know, I know,” Tizzy cooed, patting her on the back all the while thinking how everyone has loss and problems. Tizzy continued to her classes her mind drifting like a sail boat through the fog on a autumn morning until the final bell rung releasing her from the walls which held her in. Her friends not paying her mind walked by as she continued to the bus. Sliding into the empty seat her stared out the window, the pane like a mirror, reflecting her face into the trees outside. As she stepped off the bus and climbed the hill to her house she thought of her future and where she thought she would be in five years. The key turned in the lock and she stepped in her house the tears swelling in her eyes like a wave from a sudden storm. Dropping her bag she rushed to her room realizing she didn’t even know if she’d be alive in five years.

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