A Sister to me
Author's note: Nothing inspired me for this. Writing is a natural thing, and it dosnt need infection from another.
The KissClick. Myra sprang to her feet as the the door to the English room closed behind the eleventh grade teacher, Ms.Miller. Myra tiptoed her way to the door and pressed her ear against it. Once she could hear the click, clack of Ms. Miller’s high heels as she sped down the hall, Myra looked around the classroom. Myra was a tall girl for her age. The tallest in the whole junior year. It made sense because she started school late. She was eighteen, had a long, thin, muscular body, perfectly paired with long wavy brown hair. She had large striking blue eyes, the color of sapphires that seemed to pop out against her tan, slightly Asian face. She yawned and scratched her head, deep in thought. Many boys had told her that she was beautiful. But being involved with any of them was just a road to heartbreak. For them and for her. Myra shook her head. She didn’t like thinking about it. Right now she had something more important to focus on. But of course her ADD mind still wandered out of her head and the room to her favorite familiar face.
There where only three other people in detention that day, The first two were Marcy and Celia, best friends, who had been passing notes in class. They, of course, were caught by Ms. Miller and both landed in detention. They were dozing silently, one of them drooling on their desk. Myra snickered, how the two most popular girls in school could be so stupid? She never had understood it. The last one in detention that day was a boy named Eric. He stood in the corner with a dunce cap smashed on his head. Myra felt sorry for him, he had been standing there since first period that day. Of course he had been the familiar face she was thinking of. She had always admired him, especially those dazzling green eyes. Ah those eyes! She loved to look deep into them as they seemed to show every thing about him. She tilted her head slightly. He was really cute. His ear length, jet black hair always was able to fall into his eyes just the perfect way. His eighteen year old body had a slim but muscular build probably from all the sports he played. He played everything, soccer, hockey, lacrosse, you name it.
Still thinking Myra saw him take off the cap and turn, looking straight into her eyes. She flushed from being caught staring at him. She fidgeted a little in her seat as she saw him walk toward her, as if in slow motion. He stopped in front of her at the door to the classroom and smiled. He smiled with his eyes. But it soon faded.
“I guess this is it.” His deep voice sounded. A slight ripple in the angelic voice sounded from his throat.
“Hm?” He tilted his head.
“I-I just wanted to thank you. For all you’ve done for me. You never let me down. Ever. So I just want you to know that I don’t need your help this time. I can do this.”
His face was shocked. “But Myra, we were going to do this together!”
“I know but, I already can’t thank you enough. So wish me luck?
“Good lu-” The rest of his sentence was muffled as Myra flung her arms around him. With tears in her eyes she whispered,
“I love you.” Then pulling slightly back, she kissed him.
He pulled away from her, reaching for something in his pocket.
“Er... There’s something I have been wanting to ask you, Myra. I just didn’t know how. I was going to ask you when we left but now..” His voice faded.
Myra’s eyes widened and she glanced around the classroom. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath. “Myra Jennings, will-” He broke off. The locked door to the class room began to rattle.
“Open this door!” The shrill voice of Miss Miller sent a shiver down Myra’s spine.
“Go!” He whispered “I’ll hold her off.” He pushed her toward the window and she hesitated.“Go, Myra!” Myra opened the window and climbed on to a branch on the large maple tree. Feeling it start to slightly sway beneath her, she hurried onto a thicker, stronger branch.
As she climbed down and reached the bottom of the tree she heard a door bang, running footsteps and Ms. Miller shriek.
“Come back here boy!” Myra was glad that would be the last thing she would ever hear her old English teacher say. Smiling she walked toward the fence.
Reaching base of the small elm tree at the other side of the courtyard she looked around. She grabbed a backpack from the hedges and scaled the tree. She sat for a moment, perched in the branches of the tree and took one last look at the school.
“Goodbye.” She said, a tear rolling down her cheek. As she said it she imagined him returning her call. But nothing happened. She wiped her cheek and leaped over the fence as she had done many times before and walked down her little private dirt path to the trees. Upon reaching them she took a deep breath and began to run. She, not needing to look down the path, watched the trees as she passed.
Myra was almost to her destination when her feet began to ache. She removed her shoes and kept on running. Soon she reached it. The small apartment where she lived with her father. Parked eight feet away was her father’s white ford F150 pickup. She opened the smallest pocket on her bag and pulled out the set of keys that she had stolen from her father. She looked around and found that the other car was gone, so she knew her father was out. She glanced around one last time and unlocked the car.
She froze. She had slowed to much, her father was back! She spun on her heel and sighed. It was her neighbor.
At least I’m not making this journey alone.
Myra could only just remember her mother. Only in pieces, in snippets, flashes of memory. In a warm smile singing a sweet lullaby. In two long thin arms wrapping around Myra’s body. There where also bad memories...
Myra was shaken roughly awake by her father. He was awake and dressed but the essence of night still hung in the air. Her father sat her upright in her bed and spoke.
“Get up! Put some clothes on and your stuff in here.” He spoke in a hushed voice as he handed her a large suitcase and walked this out of the room. Myra slid out from under her warm comforter and laid her five year old feet on the cold hard wood. She shivered and stood up, walking over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer. She got out a sweat suit and shirt to change into. She pulled off her nightgown and dressed. Light flashed in Myra’s room as a thunder storm began. Shaking she started to put clothing in to her suitcase. Ten minutes later Myra walked down the hall. As she walked past her brothers’ room she looked in. The twins Tom and John where asleep in their bunk beds while across the room Robin was snoring. She continued down the hall into her kitchen and saw her father and Katrina, her sister, sitting at the table. Myra’s father took her suit case and walked out the front door. As he walked back in the lights in the kitchen flashed on. Myra was dragged out the front door in to the rain and shoved into the car with her sister. Myra could hear her mother yelling.
“Myra, Katrina! Myra!” Her mother was screaming as the car pulled out of the drive way. Katrina was trying to get back to her mother frantically.
“Mama, Mama!” Katrina was screaming when she made one wrong move. Standing up she hit the latch on the door which flew open. Myra couldn't stop it. As little Katrina went tumbling into the street the police rounded the corner. They didn’t stop in time.
Myra turned away just in time. As she heard her younger sister’s screams she started to cry.
“You shut up now, Myra!” Her dad yelled, “You shut up or I can make your life hell!”
Myra still cried.