Beautiful Tears (Part 2)A Story by Not hereDrawing a deep breath, she started. “I’m in high school. Freshman. Anyways, I’d never have a boyfriend before. I’d liked a few guys, even held hands with one, but never anything real or official. “So the first day of school, my best friend comes up to me and says she got herself a new boyfriend. Pissed me off. “What made it worse… Ugh. So anyways, she goes off and gets all serious with this one guy, and he’s a total douchebag but whatever. She was happy, she had a boyfriend. She didn’t need me anymore, apparently.” Alex kicked at a rock on the sidewalk, sending it skidding away. Groaning, she continued her story. “So when her and this douchebag got all serious, I became a third wheel. No, not even that. She completely forgot about me. God, I was so pissed. Like… like we’d been friends since grade school. Second grade! And she just leaves me. Middle school changes people. I guess it only shows in high school.” I nodded. “You agree?” She sounded surprised. “I’ve met more teenagers than you’d expect.” She shot me a curious glance. “Anyways, go on.” “Okay, okay. So after my best friend left me with her boyfriend, I got really desperate. I wanted a boyfriend badly. It was so stupid of me. I see that now.” “Hindsight’s a-” “Are you gonna let me finish?” she asked. I heard a laugh hidden in the question. “Sorry, sorry.” I snickered. “Go on.” “Well, I did finally get a boyfriend. He was ugly, though, and real nerdy. I guess he just wasn’t my type. That’s what I told him, anyways, when I dumped him.” I was tempted to make some remark about ‘inner versus outer beauty’ and begin that whole discussion, but wanted to hear the rest of her tale. I kept silent. “Problem was, that nerd’s got a wild imagination. Before I knew it, he was spreading rumors that me and him hooked up after a party and that I was really… um, talented. Good. If you know what I mean?” I nodded. “So you got some more attention from boys, I expect?” “Yeah…” “I bet I can guess where the story goes from here.” “Hold on. Let me tell it.” She cleared her throat and continued. “Before long, I heard the same rumors about my best friend and her boyfriend. A lot happened to her in a short amount of time. Apparently, she had sex with the guy and then decided she was lesbian? Or bi? I don’t know. A week after that, she was goth. And then over Christmas Break she got saved at some church and was anti-sex completely?” “Interesting.” “Yeah, that’s one word for it.” Alex sighed, again saying so much more with the simple action. “Well, we ended up becoming ‘friends’ again. But she was different, and we didn’t get along as well. She wouldn’t go to any parties, she wouldn’t stop talking about God to me, and I felt like there was nothing else in her life. I mean, I’ve met some religious people who are pretty cool. I think she went overboard with it. She forgot there were people here on earth, too. “I decided that I wanted to get back at her for backstabbing me like she had. Problem was, I had no idea how to do it. Until I remembered the rumors.” “Wasn’t this like weeks after all that drama with the nerd, though?” I asked. In my mind, I was wondering how much farther it was to her house. We were far removed from the bridge now. “Yeah, it was. This was months later. But somebody brought it up at lunch one day, and my best friend got really uncomfortable talking about it. Later that day, she confessed to me that it made her a bit angry, thinking about me ‘breaking God’s laws’ and made her scared that I would end up in Hell. I think that’s what she said. I just about told her to go there herself.” Alex stopped walking and looked around us at the city lights. We were passing through the main part of town. Even at night, it was beautiful and brightly-lit. Some lights never go out. “I never noticed how pretty this place is,” she mused. “To think I almost never saw it again…” “It’s okay.” I put my arm back around her shoulder. She had moved away from me earlier as she began the story. “You’re here, now, and you will be for a long time.” “Unless my dad kills me.” I shook my head, slightly amused. “Just go on with the story.” “Fine. Where was I? Oh, right.” She cleared her throat dramatically again, as she did every time the story began again. “Well, there was one guy who’d been showing interest in me. He was alright-looking, I suppose. But the main point of interest for me was his brother. He’s on the football team, and I thought he was the hottest guy in school. Everyone did. So, basically, I played the first guy and got Josh to like me. The football player.” “Played?” “Sorry. It’s a word that means…” She scratched her head. “Let me think how to phrase it. It’s like… you pretend to like one guy in order to get another one to like you. And you’ll flirt with the first one, maybe say some seductive things, and the whole time you’re just…” “Using him?” I asked. “Yeah. Well, I did that… to the first guy. And sure enough, it got the football player to like me. And… and I started to dress really inappropriately. I can’t really explain it. Just little things here and there, meant to attract his eyes certain places. Well, that worked too. I kissed him for the first time, but it wasn’t really a kiss. Kisses are supposed to be romantic the first time… We were just making out hard. “We started making out where nobody saw us at school, and touching each other in some places. I loved to tease him whenever I got the chance. “This went on for about three months, until Spring Break came. My family went to Florida and let me here because I was babysitting one family’s kids that week. Well, the parents decided to take the kids somewhere one night. I think they went to see a movie? They said they didn’t need me that night, so I made plans with Josh.” “You don’t have to go on,” I assured her, hearing the strain on her voice. “You can just-” “He came over to my house. I had a key, so I let us in. In my mind, it was like being a married couple home for the first night. But we weren’t married -or even dating, really- and it wasn’t our home.” She leaned towards me and began to cry. Her body was shaking. With anger, regret, cold, fear... I didn’t know. Probably a combination. “I took him up to my room and gave him a lap dance. That was all I’d planned to do that night. I wanted to show him some things, but not anything more. I didn’t want to have sex, yet. I was scared, so the plan was to sleep. My plan was to sleep. But I got so caught up, and he assured me it would be okay. He didn’t want me to be scared. “It hurt so f*****g bad. I hated every minute of it, and yet I loved it. I can’t explain it. The sensation was terrible and wonderful. I wanted to leave, but I knew I never could. No matter what happens, I would never ever go back to that. I’d never do it again. “And then he… I… we finished. He got up to leave, said there was somewhere he needed to be. I asked him to kiss me goodbye. But instead, he leaned down and licked the side of my face. I told him I didn’t want that right then, that I wanted something romantic. A kiss goodbye. He shook his head and laughed. It was like a growl. He said he wasn’t a romantic guy, and if I wanted a romantic guy that I shouldn’t be a s**t at school.” Alex’s voice was shaking terribly. “I’d never do any of it again.” “Hey, it’s okay.” I hugged her tightly with the one arm. “You’ll never have to again. Don’t worry. You’re not what he said you were. You’re not anything like that. If you-” “Can I finish my story?” It was my turn to sigh. “Of course.” “Well, the whole plan really backfired on me. He spread rumors around the school that I was terrible at sex. I got made fun of for ages. He’d apparently made up this whole other version, where I was just some clueless w***e. And, of course, my best friend -old best friend, I mean. She found out and refused to talk to me. I was alone. And that’s when I found the blisters and it all started hurting. “I went to the emergency room by myself and had them look… down there. I had blisters and it was hurting really badly and I skipped my period. Well, they said I had genital herpes. And then they said I was pregnant.” She sniffled. “It was like a one-two punch. I got knocked out. They asked me what I wanted to do, and I ran out of the office without talking. I knew it was only a matter of time before they called my dad and told him. “As I sat in my room, packing up my stuff to run away, I heard him storming up the stairs. I was more terrified in that moment than I’d ever been. Ever since Mom died last year, he’s been a really scary person, and when he has a reason to be mad it’s even worse. He definitely had a reason this time. “Well, he yelled at me for five or six minutes without stopping. Then he took a breath, and I countered with my own screams. I told him some really terrible things… and he said some worse things back. This went on for over an hour. By the time we were finished, it was dark outside. He told me to go to sleep and that we’d talk more in the morning. “The morning came, and with it an apology. He said he was desperately sorry and that he hadn’t meant a word of it. He said that nobody was perfect, and that he should’ve raised me better. I really loved him in that moment, and he promised to get me the help I needed. Then he went downstairs and said I could stay in bed for the day, and he’d bring me up some ice cream and whatever else I wanted. He was so nice. “That all changed, though. A few days later, he found out that I had herpes. Before that, he’d only known about the baby. He came up to my room again as I was eating another tub of ice cream. He walked in calmly and asked for it. I handed it to him, and he threw it at me. I gasped, and waited for him to say something. “Starting in a low whisper, he said that he’d only known about the baby before. His plan was to have it aborted and just move on. It was supposed to be a learning experience. But then he got another call from the doctor’s office asking for his credit card so they could order something for the herpes. He asked what they were talking about, and the doctor told him everything. “He got really mad at me. More than before. Because herpes wasn’t something that could go away. It would always be there, and always cost money. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. I yelled at him, asking where all the love went and all the care and forgiveness. Then he told me…” She stopped walking. Up ahead, there was one house with the lights still on. It was a nice neighborhood, with each lawn neatly trimmed and the fences painted pure white. Lots of things made sense once I saw the houses. As she stared fearfully towards her home Alex finished her story. “He told me…” She took a deep breath and finished. “He told me that he could forgive his daughter, but that he could never forgive a s****y w***e. He said that I wasn’t his daughter anymore. That I was a b***h.” There were no tears left for either of us. We stared at her home, and I remembered fully this neighborhood. I recognized the way the fences were built, and the color of artificial grass, and even the stars above us. “I raised a daughter here. I built a family here.” My voice was steady and confident, but I felt my heart falling apart with every memory that flooded in. “We used to have a big, black dog. The garbage man used to throw him a treat every time they came to pick up our trash, and so did the newspaper boy. “We planted the Christmas Trees in the back yard, and my husband would plant a garden in the front. We never got much out of it, but the tomatoes were the best I’ve ever tasted. Alex would spin around like a princess as we sprayed her with the hose. Her red hair would get soaked and stick to her face, and then my husband would jump in with her and dance. In the front yard, where everybody could see. He didn’t care about them because he cared about her. “We would sing songs together every night before bedtime, and sleep in the living room. We would ‘camp out’ in front of the television and she would snuggle up between the two of us. When she got a little older and our big dog died, we bought her a puppy. She loved that thing so much and named it Buddy. “Alex got her hair dyed blonde when she went into middle school. Her sixth grade year, she got all A’s so we bought her an icecream cake on the way home. That was the last night we camped out in front of the TV. “I picked her up early one day in seventh grade. I had to tell her the news. That her father was in the hospital with an unexplainable, unforeseen tumor. I had to explain to her the differences between a cancerous tumor and a benign one, and then cross our fingers as the test results trickled in. I had to tell her it was gonna be alright because my husband couldn’t speak. I had to comfort them both as the doctor announced the news. “I had to arrange the funeral and pay the costs and bear the weight of him leaving us with nothing. No life insurance, no large bank account. We had just gotten out of debt, and now I was back into it. Heck, I even called up a financial adviser. You know what he told me? He hung up. Basically said I was screwed. “I had to watch my daughter fall away from me, her home, and everything else she had loved. I had to see the scars and the cuts from her razor, the bruises and burns. I had to listen to her crying through the night, knowing full well if I went to comfort her I’d only be hurt worse. You know that friend you talked about, who did all those terrible things? My daughter was like that, except she never got saved. Her moods changed on a dime, and so did her hairstyles, clothes, makeup. She was goth, emo, lesbian, straight, everything else you can think of. Back and forth, she went through the cycles and feelings. “The night of her high school graduation, she stayed the night at a friend’s house. I slept alone in the living room, the same way I had years earlier when I had both of them. And then I was woken up by a police officer calling me to say… to say that my daughter had been kidnapped. They found substantial evidence that she was a high school prostitute, and that the ‘friend’s houses’ I let her stay at were really just job sites. Customers. Old, greasy men with their nasty hands all over my daughter’s… “Well, she was kidnapped. Gone. And she never came back. It’s been twenty years now. If she is alive, she won’t remember me or want to know me. I’ve lost a daughter, whether she’s dead or not. I never held a funeral for her. I’d like to think she’s still alive somewhere, doing her own thing, peaceful… But maybe not.” Alex took my hands in her own and peered deep into my eyes. “What are you supposed to tell someone that’s hurting?” “I… I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I love you. You’ve given me hope, laughter, and memories. You’ve taken care of me.” Her teary eyes sparkled as she stared into mine. “You’re the mother I always wanted.” “And you’re the daughter I’ll always miss.” Stepping back, she surveyed my face. Then she leapt forward and hugged me even tighter than before, her arms squeezing all the pain and worry out of me. “I love you.” “I love you too, sweetheart.” I smiled as I saw the door to her house open. There were only a few yards in between her and happiness. “I think somebody came to see you.” “Alex?” called a man’s voice from the doorway. “Alex, is that you? Please come home. Please!” She whirled around to face the house, wearing such an excited look that it melted my heart. Spinning back to me, she had that same innocence and child-like joy. “He missed me!” I patted her shoulder and nodded, not saying a word. “Thank you so much.” She hugged me one last time, then dashed off towards her home. As they embraced each other on the porch, I faintly heard his voice, full of tears, trying to explain his actions. She followed his excuses with her own as they bared their hearts to each other, trusting it wasn’t a mistake. I shrunk backwards between two houses, disappearing from her life. I hoped my memory and impact would linger. Twenty minutes later, I layed down inside my large, cardboard box. Above me rose the walls of an alley. Reaching into the white trash bag that contained my clothes, I grabbed the other heavy coat I owned. As I curled under it like a blanket, my thoughts turned elsewhere. Sitting up, I snatched the trash bag and turned it over. I scooped all the clothes out and threw them onto the ground. At the very bottom, I found a box of matches and a picture frame. Pulling them out, I struck a small flame and held it near the picture. Through the glass, I saw my daughter smiling at me, eating a piece of the ice-cream-cake present for her sixth grade graduation. I forgot her exact age. Maybe 11 or 12. Regardless, I kissed the glass, and then pulled open the back of the frame. Holding the photo delicately in my hands, I stroked her face through the picture and smiled just as she did. Turning it over to the back, I saw the sloppy message she had written me in permanent marker after I printed the plastic memory. I love you Mommy <3 I love you forever “Forever and ever.” The words floated above me and disappeared into the nighttime sky. I hoped she would hear them, wherever she was and whatever she did. I sat in that position for a long time until the sun’s first rays broke the darkness. Hiding the picture away in my bag, I threw the bag of clothes into my cardboard bed. It plopped down comfortably as I grabbed the front of the box and trudged away into the alleyway, still shadowed and dark but looking brighter every moment. © 2016 Not hereAuthor's Note
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