NEW STORY

I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in the room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need…” I stopped her before she could say any more.
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t remember her being here at all. Mom figured that we should be going, she didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not think of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.

I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look? Muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad you’re back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families wanted to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized not only could I use a friend but she could use a friend too, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad.

I rested my head on the fluffy pillow, and wrapped myself in a soft blanket. All I could think of was the girl and the incident with her at the airport.
“Daddy! Daddy! Please, come back.” The tears were flowing down my face, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse. I was running so hard, my legs were Jell-O. But I kept going, I couldn’t leave him alone, he needed my help. I could no longer see him, he ran away from me so fast.
“Daddy! Where did you go?” I slowed down to a walk, and was gasping for air. Green needles were poking at my fingertips; weeds and grass were crunching below my feet. There was a little bit of sun showing through the trees, and then I spotted him. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms raised as if he was being arrested.
“Daddy. What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me, instead he turned to his right and said, “You will never get it out of me.” I was creeping closer and could see a woman.
“It doesn’t matter, you were just a pawn in my little game.” She had a small voice for such an evil face. She had a scar that ran down her left, she wore no make-up, and looked like she could really use some sleep. She was holding a gun and wasn’t even quivering at the fact she might shoot my dad.
He turned to me then and said gently, “Goodbye my little princess.” He laid back, and fell. I ran to the cliff, dropped to my knees and cried. I could feel my heart sinking; I tried to reach my arm down, as if he could grab it. But all I could do was scream, and watch his body float down, and the hit the bottom.
“Daddy! Daddy! Get up! Get up!” I kept yelling and sobbing.

Beep! Beep! Beep! I was gasping for air, and tears were still dripping down my cheeks. I looked all around me making sure I was still in my bed. After realizing that I was in my house, I decided it was time to get ready for school. I could not eat, I could barely talk. The dreams were progressing; last night was the first time I saw him die. It felt like he died all over again. I didn’t know what to think of it, they were really getting to me. What was I to make of these dreams? Were they trying to tell me something? I kept stirring my spoon in the full bowl of soggy cereal. I heard the bus honking, and snapped out of it. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to tell my mom I love her.
“Hey Lucy!”
“Hi Susan.” What was she going to find to brag about today?
“So, I’m going to the salon later today, you want to come?” What was she doing? She isn’t usually like this. Susan was the friend that fixed things by spending money.
“What’s in it for you?” I asked her, there has to be some reason.
“Well, I just figured you could use a relaxing day.”
“Um, no thanks, I’m okay.” The rest of the bus ride was filled with awkward talking. She didn’t really know what to say to me and I didn’t put up much effort to talk back. Getting off the bus, I could hear my feet tapping the cement, hurrying to get out of the cold. The doors were so heavy; I practically had to pull my body backwards to get it to open. Walking down the hall I could hear that there was a new buzz. My high school was small; I had about 70 kids in my grade. Word got around fast, and there was no such thing as a personal bubble. Today’s buzz was that there was a new girl in my junior class.
“Gee, she must be really hot. Even the jocks are squealing over her.” To Susan this was bad; it meant another girl to compete with. I smiled at her and headed down to English. I pulled out my homework assignment, and laid my cheek on my hand. My hair was covering half my face, and I began to doodle. The bell rang 3 times and everyone quieted down.
“Everyone, listen up. We have a new student.”
“Trust me, we know!” Kevin, the hunky quarterback, had to start making a pass already. Mr. Sanders told her to introduce herself and then take a seat in an empty desk.
“Hi everyone, my name is Carrie.” I thought to myself, that’s funny, she even sounds like the Carrie I met at the airport. It couldn’t, I looked up and it was. You have got to be kidding me. Of course she took the empty seat next to me.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” I whispered to her, as Mr. Sanders was getting a book for her.
“No, we moved to be closer to the gym.” I rolled my eyes, and went back to my usual position of being invisible. Somehow I ended up having four classes with Carrie, and in each she attempted to talk to me.
Heading down to lunch, people were still marveling over her. Getting a new student was like sliced bread, the new best thing. I got in line for lunch, at least its spaghetti, and not something they try to disguise as meat. I sat down, by Susan, and there she was. Everyone turned to stare, except me. I buried my face underneath my hair, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
It was no use, “Hi Lucy!” and there was the annoying peppy voice.
“Hi.” I was hoping she would have gotten the hint by now.
“Can I sit with you?”
“It’s kind of packed, I’ll try to save you a seat tomorrow.” Great job Lucy.
“Um. There’s only four of you at the table.” Way to count smarty pants.
“Go ahead, you can sit by me.” John motioned for her to sit by him, of course even the Goth boy wants a piece of miss awesome.
“Awe. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Wow. John can smile? I gave him a death glare, and he didn’t notice. He was so focused on watching her walk to take a seat next to him.
“So, this lunch room, is, well, nice.” We all laughed, that was funny. Green beans still stuck on the ceiling from eighth grade, it definitely wasn’t made for tall people, and I’ve seen classrooms bigger than our lunchroom. Yeah, it’s real nice. The rest of lunch, I stayed out of conversation, and practically ran for the doors when they dismissed us. The rest of my classes were all a blur, I couldn’t focus, and none of the teacher’s was angry with me. They were taking it easy on me as some would say. Finally the bell rang in 8th period, and everyone bolted out the doors like ants. I sat in the lobby waiting for my mom to pick me up. Today was McDonald Monday, the amazing celebration of getting fat started when my father would try to cook a meal on Mondays, and they all ended up in complete disaster. To keep us from eating burnt food, my mom would suggest McDonalds.
“Lucy look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I just want to be friends with you.” She was standing in front of me, and she looked almost as if she were going to cry.
“Carrie, I’ve already told you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you to be friends with me out of sympathy.”
“It’s not out of sympathy. I need a friend, I don’t have anybody.” She looked down at her feet; she was really ashamed of it.
“Why do need me? Everyone in this school wants to be friends with you.”
“But none of them understand.” Tears started to swell up in her eyes and I could tell something was really bothering her.
“Understand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What was this loony thinking?
“To not have a dad. Mine doesn’t even notice me, he only notices my trophies.”
“At least you have a dad!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She is so selfish, I would give anything to have a father who cared about what I do with my life, and here she is, wanting him to butt out. Now tears were running down my face, gosh she’s like a tumor! She never goes away.
“Never mind, you don’t understand.” She said sternly, turned around and walked out the front door.
Gah! I don’t like being mean, it’s a waste of energy. But sometimes I just see certain people that make me want to hurl. She is one of those people. McDonald Monday was a bust. First Carrie decided to butt back into my life, and mom is so depressed that we couldn’t enjoy the gourmet double cheeseburgers. This time instead of a boring ride home, something changed that night. As soon as we hit the interstate to head back home, my mom started wailing on the steering wheel, and crying hysterically. I was so shocked all I could do was look like at her like she was mentally ill. She was ranting things, why him, he didn’t deserve it; he was just taking orders! I was in such awe all I could still do was stare at her. The car behind us was honking, probably because my mom couldn’t stay in one lane. What is going through her head? Is she trying to kill us?
“Mom! Pull over!’ I yelled at her, trying to overpower her rampage. She finally realized she was going mad and decided to pull over on the side of the interstate. I got out and opened her door, she looked at me dumbfounded and I motioned for her to crawl over to the passenger seat.
“Do you have your license with you?”
“Really? Who’s the more fit to drive?” She knew I was right and stayed quiet the rest of the way home.
Finally home, we put our shoes and coats in the closet.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened in that car?” For the first time, I felt like the adult.
“You shouldn’t have heard that, I’m so sorry dear.”
I hugged my mom, and we cried together that night. We held each other close and fell asleep on the leather couch.
I woke to a neck cramp and a sweaty back the next morning. Finally, its Saturday, I thought to myself, no more Carrie was always a plus. Today I figured a visit to the grave sight would do some good. I needed to have a talk with my dad.
“Mom, can we go to the cemetery today?” She stopped turning the bacon, rested her hands on the counter, and stared out the window. She does that a lot lately, waiting for her dead love to return to her.
“Well? Can we?”
“I don’t think that that’s a good idea.” I didn’t understand why she was being so hostile.
“But mom, I miss him and I want to talk to him.”
“Go ahead dear.” I didn’t dwell on her harshness, she said I could go, and that’s all I asked for. I grabbed a plate full of bacon and scrambled eggs and headed to my bedroom. I figure what’s the point in sitting at the table, when were not a family anymore. My mom was lost and confused. One night she is sobbing over dad, and the next day she wants nothing to do with his memory. But I guess that’s what a broken heart does; it breaks you down until you have nothing left. Although she has me and my love, it can never replace the emptiness left by my dads passing. I finished eating, turned my television off and grabbed my jacket. I put my plate and cup in the dishwasher, and sure enough, to my left, mom was still sitting at the table staring out the window.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” She didn’t answer me; instead she kept gazing out at the driveway. I took that as a no, so I grabbed the keys and left her. I felt guilty for leaving her, but I’m not going to let dad rot alone. Ironic isn’t it, he is rotting away below the earth, and I feel like I need to keep him company.