Chapter 3

Back to Raven's POV

Chapter 3

"Raven"! "Wake up, we're late"!

 

I woke up looking around sleepily trying to find my bearings. Owen sat up from where his mattress was on the floor.

 

"What time is it"?

 

"7:30".

 

My body was tired and sore, I did not feel like it this morning. I hated school anyway. I moaned and leaned back into my bed. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of bed.

 

"C'mon"!

 

"Your clothes are clean and dry from last night, just put those back on, I'll let you ride with me".

 

I stumbled out and followed him upstairs. While he was getting my clothes I raided the kitchen. There were some granola bars turned over on their side in the cabinet. Grabbing two I threw one at Owen as he stumbled out of the laundry room. He caught it, and handed me my clothes. I put the bar in my mouth and headed for the bathroom. It was so late even his parents were already gone. I got dressed as quickly as I could. I noticed there were black bags under my eyes, oh joy.

 

After we got ready he grabbed his keys and we headed for his car. It was a '98 Geo Metro. Eggplant purple. That was how it went for him.

 

"Ah, crap Owen I don't have my school stuff".

 

He slapped the steering wheel, "I forgot".

 

He turned towards my house for a quick stop.

 

It didn't take but about six or seven minutes to get there. I remembered momentarily as we passed all the grand old houses the first time I had met Owen. It was a sunny day like this one, where the sunlight filtered in through the trees leaving patches all across the old cracking pavement. Though then the pavement wasn't even this bad. I was eight and rididng my bike alone. I was always alone, it had become my trademark. Wearing my favorite bright yellow checkered shirt with the little daisy buttons right on the tank top sleeves where it met with the shirt and my shorts with the daisy suspenders. They had two big daisies where it latched to the shorts. The suspenders were bright pink except for the little mustard stain I had gotten on them just a few minutes earlier from hotdogs and doritos. And my stupid converse, the orange leather ones I wore everywhere, no matter how fitting or unfitting. I was riding my bike along the street, fascinated by how crisp the grass looked cut and the smell of the freshly cut blades.

 

 I turned the corner and saw this little boy there. My age except a little taller, though everyone was bigger then I, my body was very small and petite. He had these soft little curls on his head, so pretty, his hands buried in his face crying. I could see everything and how it happened, the way his baby blue shirt looked with the soccer ball and the word Polo off to the right side, and his tan carpenter shorts. I stopped in front of him, about a foot and just stared hearing his sobs.

 

"What's wrong"?

 

He looked up at me his eyes all red and swollen from crying. The big giant tears catching the light on his cheeks glistening softly those chocolate brown eyes darker then usual. He didn't say or do anything except just turn back around and start crying again. So I slid off my bike with a deep caring feeling, one that almost broke my own heart. I sit down beside him wrapped my arms around his body and leaned my head into his shoulder. After that it was friendship.

 

Our parents had joked we'd get married someday, but I knew we never would. Even at a young age I just needed to be alone. Though it wasn't until then the void deep inside was made more real, something I pondered daily.

 

We pulled into my decrepid ugly driveway.

 

"You can go ahead, I'll drive over myself, there was something I needed to do after school anyway".

 

I started getting out of the car.

 

"Ya sure, it'll only take you a moment to run and get them and I don't mind waiting".

 

"Yeah, it's cool".

 

"See ya later then".

 

"Thanks for letting me stay the night Owen, I owe ya one".

 

"Actually that was the one I owed you, so we're cool".

 

He winked at me and I laughed a little shaking my head. I shut the door and headed inside my own house. The door was unlocked, that either meant dad was still here, mother had come back, or else dad left so quickly and angrily he didn't really remember to lock it. I hoped he just hadn't remembered to lock it.

 

I ran up the stairs for my stuff. I got to my room noticing there was a note on the bed. It was from my mother.

 

Raven,

I'm sorry to leave you and your father, but right now I just need a break. Please know that this is not your fault and that I love you very much. I'm sorry.

Mom

 

It didn't really phase me necessarily. Like I knew this was bound to happen at some point. Closing my eyes gently for a moment I shook my head. There was no sense in worrying about this now. I just grabbed my things ready to go. It was pointless to care all that much. I just had to get out of here as soon as possible, just finish school and leave. This was my last year and in 3 months we were graduating anyway. Just had to hang in there. It was 7:59 now. I would miss my first class.

 

As I was about to head out the door, I changed my mind, turned and threw my school books and stuff onto the bed. I stripped off my school clothes also.

 

"Screw this".

 

I picked up a pair of jeans off my desk chair and threw my Rolling Stones shirt on, got my favorite converse and headed out the door. Even if missing school for just one day out of almost perfect attendance meant the start of World War 3, today it wasn't my bother.

 

Heading outside to my own car I grabbed my coat and some money. I wasn't sure what today would bring, but, there would definitely be food involved. There was ALWAYS food involved. Sliding into my car there was just one place that needed me. Someplace only I could find comfort in. It took about 20 minutes to get there. As a child once, I had run away from home. Everytime I tried to remember I couldn't, but in my mind I knew it corrolated with whatever was happening to me now. These feelings and disturbances of the mind. It was the place ever since then, since childhood me, I had ran. A place of solace, of quiet rememberance. Or maybe just to breathe. I parked my vehicle off into the trees climbing out and heading up the hill. It was desolate and somehow the quietness could keep me grounded. The blue sky danced in its polluted way in a hazy feeling of stomach turning pale colors. Just enough to leave the eerie week slight room to come back and haunt me. I trekked my way up the crackled pavement sparkling in the 90 degree heat to sit on the edge of a worn down overpass. Throwing my legs off the edge and staring out past the opposing field of grass and desolation brought me peace. There was something terrifying about the death of this, and the indestruction of it. But unthreatening. It had become a place birds found home and idiot teenagers such as myself for one night had found bon fires and intoxication entertaining. The graphitied walls stood out as almost an utterance of the timeless waverings to the future. Because this was the end. Like everything else had an end. Maybe part of this stupid overpass worth absolutely nothing, just brought me peace. Peace at the fact that maybe when the moments of silence ends we won't end entirely, just yet.

 

I thought back for a moment, to being a child. Maybe 6 or 7. Some of the first memories as a child I held. One stood out at this moment, starkly. I was in a laundromat. Sitting in the plastic scooped out seats with no armrests for comfort. The ugly school tile was the most decorative anything got other then the old black marks across the pale yellow seventies paneling. I watched the red lights stand out across the room from the dryer. Blinking ever so slightly, enough to bother my eyes. To make it worse was the humidity. Not enough to be overwhelming but enough to be miserable. Everytime the tape covered glass doors opened one of the outdated garage sale posters stabbed me in the back of the neck. I was just young enough not to be the right height still. The place was frightening as well, the dark rooms at the far end. One leading to a bathroom and the other tanning beds. Even the flourescent lights were a bother with their hardly working flow of electricity, as the bugs flew lazily around. Everything about the place was a bother. Especially the calming smell of laundry detergent being momentarily bothered by the overwhelming smell of a chicken plant wafting in every so often. And I especially couldn't stand the overweight man two seats over. Sweaty and annoying. He laughed so loud at the cheesy romance movie on the television. Captured silently by the moments as a child perhaps my eyes were too young for. His nose buzzed as he breathed and when he hit my elbow sometimes to jeer and have me laugh with him. It's not like you could hear what was happening over the loose change in one of the dryer, someone failed to take out anyway. But even all of that didn't bother me nearly as much as the fact I felt like someone was around. Watching my every move. Almost sensing my every thought. I heard noise and slowly turned my head to the dark rooms. A woman, too tan already stumbled out of the tanning room her creepy goggles still on her face. Even she bothered me. I stared at the chipping numbers lined on the washing machines backed up against one wall, thinking this place couldn't be any worse. The hair slowly began to lift across my arms as I felt with surety now, that someone was watching. Turning my head slowly I saw out the window a faceless man in a vehicle, smile.

 

Then my memory vanished. My mind couldn't face the fact at the time this man remained without profile in my memory. I looked down at my phone, It was only fifteen minutes later and my mind had cleared. I could breathe for a moment.

 

As I sat there for awhile longer I layed down on the old concrete as my legs dangled over the edge. There was a kind of silence to this angry world we lived in. But one that never quit speaking. Even silence was swirling around the floorboards of my head. Because soon even the silence would fade, maybe I was dying. This kind of crazy I couldn't live with any longer. Getting old in ways, and young and helpless as well. On that concrete I had cried, I had laughed, screamed and lost my mind. And I was going to cry on it again, but this time, try to find my mind. I curled up in a ball, under that hot merciless sun and cried. Not about how afraid I was, but because of the rest of it. Losing wasn't a game, winning was, because it was a gamble. But losing, it was there. And Losing meant the rest of it was gone. So now I was just tired and nothing was left. This crying wasn't the same as being afraid. This time, it was for my family and friends. For the birth being cut short by death.

Reviews

[Manpreet]

I am stuck to lines "There was a kind of silence to this angry world we lived in. But one that never quit speaking" and then a sudden realisation with lines " Even silence was swirling around the floorboards of my head. Because soon even the silence would fade" with just a perfect concusion " Losing wasn't a game, winning was, because it was a gamble. But losing, it was there. And Losing meant the rest of it was gone. So now I was just tired and nothing was left. This crying wasn't the same as being afraid. This time, it was for my family and friends. For the birth being cut short by death " !!! You kept me reading it again and again and again. I am still stuck to these lines.