Remember To Write... | Teen Ink

Remember To Write...

June 14, 2014
By WynterPage95 ELITE, Monticello, Arkansas
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WynterPage95 ELITE, Monticello, Arkansas
164 articles 8 photos 76 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It's better to burn out than to fade away..." -Kurt Cobain


Author's note: I came up with this idea while writing letters to my own best friends, I thought of how romantic and old-school it would to fall in love with a pen-pal.

As a small girl in a big world, I very frequently find myself lost inside my thoughts and others' expectations. I didn't have the cookie-cutter childhood with big Thanksgiving dinners, homemade Halloween costumes, delicious birthday cakes, and family picnics. My parents had divorced when I was a small child and so I pretty much grew up then at age ten. Six years had passed since my dad had walked out and I had become a recluse, I had never been to a sleepover or had a girlfriend braid my hair or a boyfriend to gossip about. I was quite content with trying to breeze through high school without a whim or a concern or more than a sigh.

Numerous times I had wondered why that at this point in my life I wasn't a different person. I wondered why I wasn't high on life, or loud about love, or any other weird expression about adolescence. I wondered why I didn't have the words to explain me and why I was the way I was since so many people seemed to ask. I am a speechless kind of girl most of the time it seemed. I never know what to say, how to say it, when to say it. And I would've been content to stay there forever except that my mother kept insisting on barging in to make sure I was still breathing.

I was barely peering out from under the covers on one Saturday morning when I heard her knock on the door.

"Willow? Willow, I made some breakfast." she mumbled from behind my door.

"I'm not really hungry right now." I replied and rolled over to face away from the door.

She came in anyway, "But I also had something to give you."

"Like what?" I asked, still not turning around.

She came and sat down next to me and I could smell her rose perfume mixed with pancake batter and strawberries. "My friend from work gave this to me yesterday and told me that you might be interested."

"Well, what is it?" I turned over and looked at her.

"It's a form." she took a careful breath in, as if the next words she would say would be the most important ones today, "A form for a pen pal organization." Her mouth froze in a forceful, hopeful smile and her eyes went wide.

I looked at her with every bit of confusion and annoyance that was in my head on my face. "Mom, why would I be interested in that?"

She sighed and looked down at my purple sheets under my black comforter as if she knew that that's what I was going to say. "Willow, it's just, I know that you have trouble making friends and I hate seeing you cooped up in the house all day by yourself. I mean, you're 16, I should be pulling my gray hairs out of my head worrying about you being off all the time with friends, not watching you basically sleep away high school."

I could tell she had been holding that in for awhile. "I'm just...I'm not that kind of person."

"But see, this is the perfect way for you to make a friend. It's just letters, you don't have to worry about face-to-face." she rubbed my hair, trying to get me to see her reason.

"Well, how does this thing work?" I decided to humor her.

She instantly perked back up, she picked the piece of paper off her lap and nearly shoved it in my face. "All you do is fill out this application about yourself and mail in to the organization and they'll match you up to someone that has similar characteristics than you and that person will mail you a letter!"

"It sounds like a vintage eHarmony." I replied.

"No, it's nothing like that. It's for finding friends across the globe, it's for fun." she smiled.

"But," I chuckled at her complete excitement over this. "You want me to send my address to this business that is going to send it to some complete stranger?"

"Oh I looked it all up and stuff of course, I wouldn't have you do this if I didn't think it was safe."

I sighed, I just didn't think that there was even someone out there remotely like me or anyone who could find me interesting. "I-I don't know."

Mom kissed my forehead, "Just give it some thought ok. And the pancakes I made for you are getting cold." She started to get up from my bed.

"Ugh, I just need some coffee." I rubbed my head and looked out my window.

I heard my mom chuckle, "You're too young for coffee." Then I heard my bedroom door close as she went back downstairs.

I shook my head, my mom would never understand the center of my caffeine-driven generation. I picked up the paper that my mom had left beside me and looked it over. It asked for my name, mailing address, interests, gender, what gender I was interested in talking to, etc. I really thought it was silly, I mean they couldn't make a real connection over my favorite band or poem quote. Especially when I didn't even know what those were. The only thing I was thinking about writing that weekend was an essay for my English class.

I felt my stomach rumble and decided to go downstairs and get some coffee, leaving the form behind in my covers.

I walked downstairs and searched for a cup out of the cabinet, gracefully there was still coffee in the pot and I poured some in my cup. The smell of it floated up on the steam and comforted my nose as I searched for my favorite creamer. When I found it and turned around for a spoon, I was startled to see my older sister munching on a bagel and browsing on her phone.

"What's up hermit?" she asked as she moved her deep red hair that matched my own from her face.

"I'm not a hermit." I plainly stated as I pushed past her to get my spoon and then looked for sugar.

"That's debatable." as she pushed me back.

"Well as a matter of fact Zoe," I said with my back to her, "If you actually stayed at your place more and ate your own food instead of ours then you wouldn't even hardly be able to notice how much time I spend on my own." I didn't have to turn around to see the glare that she was shooting in the back of my head to know that it was there.

"Bitch." I heard her mumble.

"Now now girls, what should we all do today?" my chipper mother said as she came gliding in the kitchen.

We both stared at her with every bit of disinterest as we could muster.

"Oh c'mon, it's a beautiful day, we could go to the market or to a movie or go shopping in the mall." she was trying so hard and it was almost sweet, but the only way you could get me and my sister together was if you paid us.

"I have homework to do." I replied nonchanlantly as I sipped my coffee.

"Oh but you can do that tomorrow." my mother said as she started putting breakfast dishes in the sink.

I looked at the small table she had in the corner and noticed that a plate of pancakes with powdered sugar and strawberries were still sitting there waiting for me.

"Girls c'mon, I really want to do something today." I could hear my mom's dismay in her voice as she treated the dishes roughly as she washed them.

"I just, really want to get this homework done." I didn't give them a chance to say anything more. I went over and grabbed the plate of pancakes and went to go back to my room.

"Why do you have to be so rude Willow?" I heard Zoe pipe up behind me.

I turned around and stared at her real hard. "Well you know what, you don't have a job or any responsibilities that you should at 22 freaking years old Zoe, you go plenty of time so why don't you spend the day with her!" I stamped up the stairs and didn't even listen to my mom call my name.

I climbed back on my bed and ate my breakfast angrily. I knew it would take 20 minutes and then Zoe would ask for a couple hundred bucks and then take off until she needed food or to do some laundry. She saw my mom as a meal ticket and me as a verbal punching bag.

Zoe was my age when Dad left and she apparently took it the hardest. Living without a strong male figure in her life was her excuse to go and find several replacements to sleep around with before she even graduated high school, which she did by the skin of her teeth. She had opted out of college to go to cosmetology school that she never applied for because she didn't have the money to pay for it. And she still hadn't been able to keep a job long enough to save up money. She would keep one long enough to get a couple of paychecks to keep her landlord off her ass and then would stay unemployed for months.

I had never been to Zoe's apartment, didn't even know where it was at. But I'm sure that several guys had a key, and the only thing in the fridge was beer. I was also certain that it was covered with mirrors since Zoe couldn't get enough of looking at herself.

I shook her words out of my mind and finished the last bits of the pancakes. I finished it off with my coffee and went to the bathroom to take a shower. I stayed under the water and let it cover my face. I didn't get sad about my Dad a lot, it had been six years so I had already cried most of the tears I ever would over him. But every now and then, I would feel a little down that he would never be around to talk to. He would never be around to put a foot in Zoe's ass and cheer my mom up. What would make me feel worse was that he didn't want to be around, he chose to leave.

I turned the water off when it turned cold and got dressed. I let my wet hair soak into my shirt as I went and sat at my computer desk. I still had Zoe's old clunky computer, you know with the monitor and pavilion. Since mom paid all Zoe's bills and such, we could never afford a laptop. I turned my dusty dinosaur on and let it warm up.

Then I spied the form my mom had given me on my bed.

"It's a waste of time." I told myself. But the thought of a friend, an actual friend kept perking my interest.

Finally I grabbed it and filled it out. I wrote about I didn't know what music was, I had a single parent and a bitch older sister. And then I reached the favorite poem quote line. I th0ught for a moment, I actually did want to answer this one seriously. Then it came to me,

"Hello, I'm nobody,

Who are you?

Are you nobody too?"

-Emily Dickinson

The next line referred to who was I interested in pen-palling with. Male? Female? Either? Well I didn't really give a shit on who wanted to be friends with me as long as they were human, I circled the "either" choice and signed the form. I folded it up and found an envelope to put it in. I knew I had no stamps, but I remembered that Mom had some stashed in the drawer in the kitchen.

Quietly I snuck to the top of the stairs and listened to see if I could hear anyone. The house sounded quiet so I darted down and snatched a stamp out of the drawer. I filled out the envelope and then went outside to put it in the mailbox. When I turned around to go back in the house, I saw my mom in the window. She said nothing but I could see her happy, satisfied smile before she put the curtain back. And strangely, I smiled just like her. I don't know I just, I couldn't help wondering what kind of person would write me back. Happily, I went back to my room and wrote my essay for school.

The rest of the weekend passed with me on and off wondering about when my letter would come, who it would be from, what they would be like. It was kind of like standing in front of a blank face for days, wondering what they would say and what their voice would sound like. Although of course I knew I wouldn't be able to hear a voice through a letter, I thought that maybe at least I would feel some kind of connection to someone, a kind of connection that I didn't have with anyone else in my life.

Monday morning came with usual amount of drowsiness. I got up bright and early and fixed myself some breakfast and some coffee in a mug. I grabbed my backpack and told my mother goodbye and walked out the door. I got to the end of our walkway when I stopped and looked in the mailbox, I knew it was too early for the mailman to even come by, but I couldn't help checking again.

I turned down the sidewalk and started the few blocks I had to my school. I had been walking to school since I was 12, that was how long it took for my mom to really feel the toil of being a single mother. She drew me a map so I wouldn't get lost one Monday morning and then sent me on my merry way. I still ended up getting lost and luckily found my way by the time my third class was starting, I didn't talk to her for a week after that. The worse thing than starting 7th grade, was starting 7th grade 2 classes late.

I got to my school just in time to hear the first bell ring and the flock of people start to mesh in the two small doors. I hung out on the front lawn for a minute to let the traffic clear out whe I heard someone behind me call my name. I whirled around and saw with slight dismay that it was Gina.

"Hey Willow, umm I have a real important question." she said with a cherry-chapstick smile under her perfectly made-up eyes.

Gina was the known as the charity worker of our class, whenever there was a new kid or someone like that me that slunk behind everyone else and hardly made any noise, Gina saw it as her personal duty to "come to their rescue". She had been coming to my rescue for over a year, as long as I let her copy my math homework.

"Hi Gina." sometimes I didn't mind her company, but most times I just wanted to tell her to buzz off.

"That essay that was assigned, I know it's due tomorrow but I was wondering if you could help me out with it." she kept trying to sell me good will and intentions with that stupid smile.

"Like what exactly." I sighed and looked at my watch to make sure there was still time for me to get to class.

"I kind of don't know exactly how to go about starting it, or where to really go with it." she dug the top of her shoe into the ground and rocked it back and forth.

My jaw dropped as I looked at her, "You haven't even started on it?"

Gina gave me a look that said she was annoyed by my goody-two shoes reaction. Gina always thought that about me, truth was I was a goody-two shoes so excited to do her homework and get As on everything. Since I didn't spend as much time hanging out with everyone as Gina did, I actually had time to get my stuff done before the night before. I wasn't an over-achiever, but I sure wasn't a procrastinator.

"No, I haven't started on it yet, I haven't had time!" she finally said with a huff. "My guess is, you've finished it?"

I didn't want to further confirm her idea of me by telling her the truth, so I bended it a little. "No, but I'm nearly done."

She raised her eyebrows at me and smirked, apparently I had my the evidence of my lying plastered all over my face. "Sure." she said, "Well I was wondering if you could maybe write the introduction for me, so I know where to go with it you know?"

I looked down at my shoes, I knew where this was going but since I had nothing better to do, "Sure, I'll email it to you when I'm done."

That overpowering smile sparked back on her face, "Thanks Willow, you're a lifesaver!" Then she whirled around and skipped back to the waiting circle of her friends on the front steps.

I sighed and looked up at the sky, there was a slight chill in the air as summer was fading away and fall was beginning to take hold. Fall used to be my favorite holiday when I was a kid, not for the holidays, but just for how the world looked. I loved the colors of the leaves and how the air was crisp, but never stingingly cold. It was perfect. I suddenly remembered where I was and raced inside, I barely made it to my first class in time.












*






*





*

When the bell rang for lunch, I decided I would run home and eat there. One because I didn't really feel like mingling around the lunchroom to find a seat, and two because the cafeteria food was horrendous and I hadn't brought anything with me that day.

I unlocked the front door and walked into the silence, my mom was still at work at a florist shop on the square. She had had the job for three years and she was honestly in love with it. She and her friend Melinda, who gave my mother the pen pal form, had started the place on their own and it had grown into a pretty big success.

I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda and some stuff to make a sandwich. I was halfway putting Miracle Whip on my bread when I heard noise upstairs. I stopped and listened, I realized that it was footsteps, someone was in my house. I knew that mom wasn't home, her car wasn't out front and she never even came home for lunch, so I had no idea who the hell it could be. I thought about calling the police, but I was scared if it was someone dangerous, that hearing my voice would give them a reason to come downstairs.

I reached behind me and grabbed the butcher knife out of the knife stand and tiptoed to the staircase. I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could, avoiding the parts of the steps that I knew would make creaking noises. I got to the top of the stairs and heard more rustling to the left, in my mom's room. I held the knife in front of me and slowly made my way to the wall next to the door. I peered around the corner but then whipped my head back, I was scared that whoever it was would see my forehead before I saw them. I looked in the mirror above my mother's dresser that was on the wall across from me in her room. I saw that all the clothes had been torn out her closet, the sheets and blankets on her bed had been ripped off, her jewelry boxes had been emptied on the mattress, and I heard someone searching banging on metal that I soon realized was the file cabinet she had in her room. It was where she kept all the family documents, and a couple thousand dollars she had kept back for hard times.

Both I and Zoe knew what was in that file cabinet, but our mom kept it locked and kept the key hidden somewhere secret. I heard someone sigh and groan with frustration.

"Damn it!" they yelled as the kicked the cabinet. Suddenly, with much anger, I realized who it was.

I put the knife down and stormed in the room, "Zoe, what the hell are you doing?!"

She jumped when she saw me, clearly I had surprised her. "Me? What are you even doing here? You're supposed to be at school!"

"I came home for lunch! And you still haven't answered my question, what are you doing here? What are you doing screwing around with Mom's file cabinet?"

She looked at the floor, she looked at the walls, she looked at the ceiling, then she looked at me. "I was...looking for something."

I shook my head, I knew she was lying through her teeth. "Zoe, I'm not stupid. You were trying to get the money she had in there, weren't you?"

Zoe scoffed at me and rolled her eyes, "No you nosey little squint, I was trying to get her money, and even if I was it's none of your business."

I could feel the anger boiling inside me, I just wanted to slap her. I walked right up to her and got right in her face, it didn't matter that she was a bit taller than me. "You listen to me you selfish bitch, if you don't get out of here right now, I'm not even going to worry about calling Mom, I'm going to call the cops on you."

She stared at me as I dished out my threat and then smirked at me, trying to play it off. "Whatever, call whoever you want, they won't do shit." She pushed me away from her and then stormed down the stairs and out of the house.

I stood for awhile in my mom's room, breathing deepily. I didn't know whether I should tell mom that Zoe had been here. I opted instead to clean up the mess that she had left behind, I didn't want to stress mom out for no reason. I got downstairs and realized that I had just enough time to get back to school before class started again. So I put the stuff back in the fridge and grabbed my soda, an apple, and my bag so I wouldn't go terribly hungry.

After school was over, I slunked home and went up to my room. I wrote the introduction for Gina and emailed it to her, and after several back and forth emails, I ended up writing the entire essay for her. Nothing new.

I didn't even think to check the mail again.



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on Sep. 23 2014 at 10:48 am
EmilytheBelleofA. DIAMOND, Athens, Georgia
81 articles 5 photos 1486 comments

Favorite Quote:
To love is to be vulnerable; Triumph is born out of struggle; We notice shadows most when they stand alone in the midst of overwhelming light.

This is so good. This is entirely up to you, but I hope you continue it. It's so good, and yes. Maybe a bit old-fashioned, but I love the idea in your story. I enjoyed reading all the chapters that you had. You have such a talent and greatness in you; and I hope you know that and believe that. Because you do and you are a talented person and writer. Thank you so muhc, for sharing this. I hope you continue it. Thanks again.