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"just to feel" ... chapter 1
The room i sat in wasn’t new to me, i remembered it all too well. The framed awards and various university degrees were dusty from sitting one the colorless, opaque walls for so long. I had been in this room so many times i could probably recite every word on the awards if asked. It may have been the room itself that caused my sub-concious to desire the uncomfortable sensation this room caused me to have. Or, the more logicle reason, and the one i thought was right. Was the countless reaction of the man behind the waple wood desk in front of me.
Principal Marx, the man behind the desk, had a permantantly purpled face. He was sitting, at the moment, butif he stood up the word basketball would come to mind instantly. I suppose the orange shirt he wore didn’t help his image image either though. He also had a cheap tupee sitting on top of his shiny, balding head, i knew it was cheap because of two reasons; one, every few minutes he would push it back to his desired position. Two, the color of the tupee was several shades lighter than the hair he had left.Marx’s sausage fingers tapped eratically on the desk, following a slow, but steady rythm. Finally after five mintues of a tensed silence the Principal spoke.
“Addison, i’m not going to waste my breath, because it’s obvious you don’t care. I’ve taken the liberty of calling your mother my self, she is on her way as we speak. I trust that she’ll do something about you. That is all, you are dismissed, get out.” He stated. I laughed outloud and proceeded to leave him, in his office, furious.
When my mother picked me up i knew that her blow up was going to be more entertaining than her usual blow ups. The ride home was a silent, intense hell, i knew she was building up her anger to give me a good one.
“Your father and i need to discuss our options concerning what to do with you. While we talk, go to your room and stay until i come to get you.” My mother said fuming with rage. I was surprised, usually she’s yell and scream until she was horse. Then my father, who was meek and quiet, would calmly and tiredly ground me. Later my mother would cry and wail saying what a disapointment I turned out to be and how she wished Peter was here. I used to always be amused by their reactions, but lately I had become bored. So, why was this time different? Too tired to think further into it I walked to my room.
If you walked into my room without ever meeting me your image of me would be the furthest from the truth. Princess pink covered my walls along with a white, lace trim. White, glittery, lace curtains adorned my one window gracefully. It was the bed that annoyed me the most though. It was a canopy, with a white, metal frame. The bed set was white with pink glitter and scattered purple rhinestones on the comforter. My mother had done this as a surprise, two years ago, when i was away for a week. Inside i knew it was because that was the girl my mother had wished me to be.
“Addison, get up.” An all too familiar voice ordered. I must’ve fallen asleep, because i opened my eyes to see my mother peering down at me with a scowl on her face, and her eyes narrowed into slits. I was sprawled on the bed hugging a blanket to my body.
“What?” I asked in one annoyed breath. Just when I thought her eyes couldn’t narrow any more, they narrowed so far that I didn’t know how she could see me.
“Get your lazy butt up and meet your father and I in the living room.” My mother commanded angrily. I made a silly face and rolled my eyes, she glared not giving me the reaction she knew i wanted. She strutted out of my room without another word.
Five minutes later I sat on the couch with my dad sitting in the recliner and my mother standing not six feet away. They hadn’t said a word yet and boredom was ascending on me. I knew what was going to happen and i was tired of the silence tensing more every second.
“So are you going to say anything or is silence and angry staring your new approach?” I asked sarcastically. Suddenly the phone rang and my mother smiled creepily. Was she going to sick the mob on me? She hurridly picked up the phone and sped into the laundry room, closing the door behind her.
I had always been content with silences, but since Peter i just talked to anger the people around me. So when I was alone with my dad we didn’t really talk, and that was okay with me. This one was totally different. This quiet made you want to yell, jump around and do anything to break it. I was an expert at causing awkward silences, but this was insane! The restlessness continued for at least fifteen more minutes. Finally my mother came into the living room looking like she had just won the lottery. She turned to my father with a triumphant smile.
“It’s all set for tonight.” She stated mysteriously. I then finally gave up trying to figure out what was going on, i just didn’t care.
“Addison, go pack, anything that is not packed in an hour will be thrown away.” My mother ordere brisquelly. As I threw her a questioning glare she smiled and crossed her arms below her chest.
“Your father and I are done dealing with you. Some friends of ours have graciously offered to take you in. I don’t know why, but they did say something about their son, Micah.” My mother explained. Contradicting emotions flitted through my mind. It was anger, relief and excitement all rolled into one. Before I could say a sarcastic comment my mother interrupted me.
“Not another word, go pack. Also if you do not behave the streets are the next step.” She replied scarily. My eyes widened at her tone. For once I decided not to argue and I silently trudged back to my room and found an old suitcase lying on my bed. I sighed frustratedly as I looked around trying to decide where to start, my mind was a complete blank. After five minutes of staring I walked to my clothes and started shoving them into the suitcase.
After Peter and the accident I stopped getting new clothes, or really anything new really. Fortunatley, I hadn’t grown either since then. That meant my clothes from freshmen year looked like crap, but still fit perfectly.
After all my necesities were packed I started with my music and books. I cared more about my music and books than anything else. If I still had friends I bet T’d still care about my music and books a little more. The only kind of music I didn’t have was rap and screamo, if I couldn’t understand it I didn’t like it. The only kind of books I didn’t have were biographies, only because if I didn’t care about myself why should I care about other people.
With fifteen minutes to spare I finished. I didn’t own make-up or pretty jewelry, to my mother’s disapointment. The only jewelry I did own were the one pair of silver studs I never took out of my ears.
For the remaining time I layed on the floor, my mind blank of any thought or emotion. Then my mother strutted in and inspected my room’s current condition.
“Okay, get your shoes on and your father will drive you to the airport.” She ordered in one breath. Still speechless I got my black, worn and tattered converse on. Even though it was May and 75 degrees out I threw on my old hoodie. I was always cold, even in 90 degree weather i wore pants and a jacket. At first my parents thought something was medically wrong with me, but after countless docter visits they stopped caring.
I slid into the family sedan still silent, my father got in the driver’s seat and promptly started the car. The roar of the engine was still the only sound fifteen minutes later
“Your flight leaves at one a.m , with a layover in Philadalphia. You leave Philly at four a.m.” my father explained, handing me the two plane tickets. Thankfully he didn’t look at me, or he would have seen my bewildered expression. How would I sleep tonight, on the plane, when I didn’t even know where I was going.
“Addi” he said . I looked up shocked, not because he was talking, but the fact that he called me Addi. My father used to call me Addi when we were close and before the accident.
“This is a chance for you to start over. I know this change will be good for you. So please give it a chance.” My father pleaded. For once since Peter, I felt that at least one parent cared. I thought for a long moment and nodded, completely serious.
“I’ll try” I replied just as we parked in the drop off area at the airport. He just nodded and unlocked the passenger door for me. Without saying goodbye I got my bag and entered the airport.
The plane was small and cramped, with little room to move. Of course I ended up getting placed at a window seat next to a man who could have taken up three seats.