May 14, 2013
By Cassandraville SILVER, Bronx, New York
Cassandraville SILVER, Bronx, New York
6 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Life is like a box of chocolates." - Forrest Gump.

I glanced at the wipers on the bus window, for some reason the wipers always missed the blob of rain clogged at the bottom. The effect caused the windows to form a shape of a sad face and maybe the bus really was sad because it was being belated heavily by rain. I turned my eyes from the window to look at the state of outside it continued to steadily pour and the bus ride would take 20 more minutes until I had to transfer to another bus. I had no umbrella and I knew that the rain would not let up anytime soon. When my stop finally arrived the rain seemed to have gotten harder and I could hear the hard pelt of the rain against the cemented blocks from inside the bus. I put my coat over my head as I walked out of the bus and into the rain, I was immediately soaked in a matter of seconds but I tried to ignore the wetness I was beginning to feel in my socks. My glasses were getting blurred by the rain so I took them off and put them in my jacket pocket and continued to walk on to the next bus stop. A few feet away from my bus stop I began to hear sobbing next to me and I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see a young woman with what looked to be tears running down her cheeks. I was confused because I was not exactly sure if all the water on her face was just tears or maybe the rain splattering down her face, the woman did not seem to notice or care about my presence as she walked onto the bus stop I was also approaching.

When I finally reached school I entered the bathroom where I began to dry my boots and coats under the hand drying machine. My book bag that had the worst damage from the rain could not be saved by the machine so I just looked at it sadly and lifted it up onto my back. I began the trek up the stairs to the third floor so I could put all my books in my locker, well the wet ones since I would not be able to use them. Halfway up the stairs I noticed a girl I knew walking in my direction, I could not recall her name because I was really bad with names but I remembered she was in my photography class and she loved taking pictures of dogs. Her entire portfolio was just filled with the dogs she owned and her neighbors’ dogs. I did not really like dogs because of a bad experience when I was younger so I never understood people’s fascination with them. I knew the awkward moment was approaching where I had to decide whether or not to say hi to her but surprisingly she did it for me.

“Oh hello Jasmine what a surprise you are the first on my list,” she said to me with a smile on her caramel colored face. She had a bright yellow hat on and I stared at intensely for a while. I hated the color yellow it was such an ugly color. I realized she was waiting for me to respond so I muttered back a reply.

“Uh, hello.” I replied with what I was sure to be a very confused look on my face, and I stared back at her waiting to find out what she meant.

“Well here you go,” and she handed me a pink colored sheet with my name on it and just walked away.

I stared at the pink sheet and saw that I had to go visit my guidance counselor before the first period of the day began. I had only visited my counselor twice in the four years I had been at Audit Academy and I wondered why she would call on me when I had already had a meeting with her about what college I was attending.

Hm maybe there is an issue with the college I thought to myself.

As I walked to the office I began to feel the wetness still from my bag soaking into my slightly damp clothes and I had forgotten that I was going to visit my locker. I would have to do it later after the meeting even though it was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. As I entered the very spacious room of my guidance counselor I stopped when I realized my dad was sitting in front of her with a very serious grim expression on his face. My left hand began to shake a little as it always did when I was nervous and expecting something bad. My dad got up from the seat in front of my guidance counselor and walked toward he smiled a little at me and my left hand stopped shaking slightly. My dad knew about the shaking I got when I was nervous so he was probably trying to tell me everything was okay.

“My Jazzy.” He said to me as he reached out and hugged me too him. I hugged back reluctantly because I was confused and also I did not like displaying such affection in front of my counselor; I was always embarrassed when either my mom or dad hugged me in public probably because I am so shy. A few more minutes passed and my dad had yet to stop hugging me and I began to feel the top part of my blouse get a little soaked. I froze in my dad’s arms because I was sure it was tears and for the 17 years I had been alive my dad has never cried; well never in front of me. When he finally released me from his grasp I realized my counselor was not in the room and my Dad and I were alone.

“Jazz...I’m so sorry.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?” I said tentatively, I felt like I knew the answer like it was on the tip on my tongue. It was if I had the answer right in front of me but I just could not see it or touch it. Some random memory entered my head and I was confused as to why I would remember it now.

I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose

fire away, fire away

ricochet, you take your aim

fire away, fire away

The last line of the chorus was sung in a whisper by my sister. She seemed so far away though she was just beyond the door I was currently leaning on. I loved hearing my sister sing but nowadays the way she sung her songs seemed so sad. Even the happiest song she could turn into a melancholic tune.

I blinked away the memory and stared at my Dad again. Why would I...........

“Dad is something wrong with Summer?” I said in a whisper but it was loud enough to reach my dad’s ears. Loud enough for him to have heard me. But he did not respond. The shaking of my arm again took over my body and the last thing I remembered was seeing the ugly yellow paint of my counselor’s walls. I hate the color yellow.

The author's comments:
It's hard to lose someone and sometimes when you realize you have lost someone the last thought that runs through your head is something you wouldn't have noticed before.

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