Of Friends and Sheep

This was dated for 7/20/1999 @_@ I recently went through all my old folders and found this at the bottom @_@

The warm breeze blew through the window catching the soft silken curtain. It fluttered over my bed, tickling me awake. My limbs twisted and stretched as I pulled myself out of the warm cocoon that was my linen sheets. The mid-may morning breeze felt cool making me crave for the warmth of my bed again. The digital clock on my desk read 7:30.

“This is way too early to be getting up on a Saturday” I said to the furry ball that was curled at the foot of my bed, still dozing. God it must be good to be a cat sometimes. Sleep all day, no school, no parents to wake you up and drag you around. Grabbing my robe off the hanger on my door, and petting Leo once on the head, I trudged my heavy feet across the cold wooden floor to the bathroom.

 

The chilled morning tiles were bitter on my feet. Turning the nozzle to the shower on super hot, I grabbed my toothbrush and waited for the water to get hot. The massaging shower head felt wonderful on my back, I stood under the hot mist till the water ran cold. When I got back to my room Leo hadn’t moved from his position on my bed, falling back onto my bed, Leo open one of his bright golden colored eyes to glare at me for disturbing him, with a giant yawn and stretch he moved  to my window sill where he wouldn’t be disturbed. Spoiled cat.  Looking back at my clock it now read 8:10, maybe I spent more time in the shower then I had thought.

 

Pulling my favorite pair of beat-up old jeans, and an old t-shirt, that had been my older sisters before she went off to college, I headed down the stairs to grab some breakfast. The soft roll the hung over my jeans made me think twice about the doughnuts that were placed on the counter. Mmmm there were chocolate filled, jelly filled, sugar comas shaped like a ball, but poking the roll again gave me the strength to move away, I could feel the calories, and all I did was smell them.

 

“Sarah, wanna go get the paper for your old man?” he said from his position at the table. My mom was busy hustling around the kitchen making sure we all had a ridiculous amount of food in front of us. And the Urchin, that they call my brother Davey, was examining his plate as if he could magically make more food pop on it. Of course my answer was no, but I wasn’t really in the mood for being stuck in the house for a week, so I dragged my feet with a sigh outside onto the wet lawn. I could feel the dampness on the grass through my slippers.  My parents had decided on a house that’s mailbox was at the end of a needlessly long driveway and front lawn that took five minutes to get to at least. Dragging my feet made it seem much longer.

 

            The dew made my slippers slip and squeak on the floor on my way back to the kitchen. When I got there all the dishes were packed up and neat on the counter, my brother, I could hear, was running up the stairs. The TV was blaring in the other room, and the back door was being shut, my mother probably hanging up the delicates. With a sigh I tossed my dads paper to him breaking his concentration from the sporting event for a moment for him to mumble a thanks.

 

            My breakfast was cold by the time I got there. The beacon had gotten crunchy, the oatmeal very bland, the milk now closer to room temperature. I dumped the milk in the cats bowl, the oatmeal in the garbage disposal and settled on the few pieces of beacon that had been left. Hardly satisfied, yet feeling the calories, I flipped off my wet slippers and headed towards the basement stairs. Down the carpeted stairs and to the left of my fathers unused father’s day tools we gave him every year, was My room. Shoved in a tiny hovel in the corner of our basement was a place where I did my work. My family has given me many things to write about so I guess I have to thank them for something. My passion was writing. There was a small window that let me see outside above my head, giving me enough light to see without having to draw a lot of attention to myself with the over head ceiling light. For some reason, I kept my writing private, I don’t know why but even reading my papers for school embarrassed me. I think it’s because, what I write no one but me will understand. In my writing, no one was safe, I wrote about friends, family boys, anything that went on in my life I wrote into a story. If anyone read it, I would die.

 

            The Mario theme that my best friend, Amber, had had chosen for her ring tone on my phone blared in the silence of the basement. Fumbling in my pocket I answered. 

 

            “Hello.”

            “Hey what’s up Sarah?”

            “Nothing really much, same old same old Saturday morning.” I said ruefully.

            “Aww did they make you get the paper again and miss breakfast?” she said with sympathy.

            “Every fricken time, I’m really getting tired of stale oatmeal.”

 

            I heard her laugh ring out through the phone. Amber was my rock, whenever my family really got to me, she would always be there to help.

 

            “Aww. Well anyway, what are you doing right now? Whatever it is put it down, just saw the Cutest guys at the mall and you’re gonna get your butt moving on your way here.”

            Amber was the social princess. Every party, every bit of gossip she knew it all. And she was beautiful, couldn’t forget that. Her hair is the border between a deep brown and a black with eyes to match, her Peruvian heritage giving her skin a slight natural tan that girls spend hours in tanning beds for, and very proportional, fat in the right places, and muscle in the others. I envied her sometimes, she would always say how she isn’t pretty and that no one could like her. I never told her how that hurt me…if she was ugly and no one liked her…I never had a chance in hell. My writing is probably the one thing I’ve never shared with her. She calls us practical sisters, but sometimes I don’t know.

 

            “Sarah? You there?”

            “Yeah I’m here, just a little spaced. Leo slept on my head practically last night and I had to wake up and kick him off every five minutes.” I said to cover.

            “Well what do you say then? Sit at home alone doing nothing, or help me land a date for tonight?”

            “Do I have a choice?”

            “Not entirely.”

            Letting out a sigh. “I’ll be there in ten.”

 

After running upstairs to grab my keys, with the various different shapes I had for key chains that made it jingle with every fast movement I made, I headed out to my beat up 1992 Chevy that had seen better days. The doors, after the first time they had to be replaced, was a deep green the clashed with the bright, well faded bright, blue of the body of the car. The interior was a deep tan and black mixture with holes that accompanied it. Dark grey pieces of duck tape had been my fathers answer to that little problem. When it rained, a small divot in the top of my car, from god knows what, collected rain water and dripped down only when I was driving somewhere important. My parents said this car was unstable, unsuitable, and unreliable. I loved it. I loved its chugging noise it made every time you made it go over 50, the windshield wiper you had to reach out to get to start moving sometimes, the dashboard that wouldn’t work unless you kicked it. This was my car, and I didn’t want to change a thing about it.

 

            Turning my key in the ignition, letting the clouds of smoke die down from the back of the car, I headed towards the mall. A few years back, Amber and I had figured out it took 20.7 minutes to get from my house to the parking lot of the mall, in a normal car that is, at best mine got there in under 30. Sputtering and chugging along I entered the parking lot near the food court and chose the most available spot. Not bothering to lock a car that the only thing they could possibly want it for is junk metal, I walked up the concrete steps and waited for the automatic door to open before me.

 

            When the doors swung open, my nostrils were greeted with the familiar scent of grease, deep fried french fries, and perfume wafting in through the breeze from the store to my right. It was as crowded as ever, people of all shapes and sizes, colors and religions gathered here like a proverbial swimming pool of life. The conversations mingling in the air so you couldn’t pick one from the other. Scanning the food court till my eyes landed on the top of Amber’s head. One of the many boys that were surrounding her saw me and poked Amber in the side to get her attention.

 

            Turning her dark eyes in my direction and letting loose a smile she waved me over in her direction. She wore a deep v neck that made her still look modest, yet emphasized her in a flattering way. It clung to her flat stomach, making me once again poke the roll that came over my jeans. Her jeans were an experiment of ours once we cut one of at the knee and kept one full length. Mine ended up being rags for my dad when he did work around the house, and hers practically became a fashion statement. 

 

            “Hey you made it!” she said with enthusiasm as she hugged me close. “Didn’t I tell you they were cute?” she whispered in a hush tone, her warm breath in my ear causing it to twitch. Giving the boys the once over I agreed with her. The one standing closest to her was a tall brunette, his tan skin meshed with the lightness of his shirt making him look even more bronze, the one to the left of him was significantly shorter, but his muscular build was way more impressive then his counterpart. His skin was an Irish white marred with the dark brown and reddish freckles that littered his skin. They both shared blue eyes, and deep dimples. Maybe I should have worn something other then a two year old shirt my mom got at the gap for me.

Grabbing my hand, Amber introduced me to her new friends. “Ben, Jake, this is my best friend I was telling you about. Sarah, this is Ben and Jake.” I mumbled out a hey. Ben looked me over with his eyes as if he was surveying a menu on what looked like the best, but soon lost his interest and turned his eyes back to Amber. Jake merely nodded in my direction looking like he would rather be anywhere else but here. Why had I agreed to come again?

 

Amber dragged us in an out of every shop she could find that her mind could come up with. I swear some times she has shopping A.D.D. Ben followed Amber like a lost puppy, his eyes swimming with her curves and attributes that swished and bounced when she moved. It wasn’t until we were seated, less then comfortably at one of the cramped tables in the Malls small food court that I got a few minutes to talk alone with Amber.

“Isn’t Ben so adorable!” she giggled looking where he was standing in line at ‘Bert’s Pizzeria’.

“Yeah he’s something alright…” Sniveling jerk was more like it, but I couldn’t tell her that.

“You’re having fun with Jake right, I know he seems quiet, but so are you, I thought you to would hit it off.”

“He hasn’t said one word to me!” I said angrily. “I want to go home.”

“No! No…don’t go home…please I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“I really wanna go home Amber….” I said pleadingly.
            “How about I come over later ok?” she said with a sad look in her eyes.

“I guess…just remember my parents are going out tonight, and I have to watch Davey.” I told her, rising out of my chair.
            “Ok.” She said hugging me before I headed towards the exit that I had entered nearly 3 hours ago. Only now I was leaving more depressed then when I had gotten here.

 

The drive home was hot and sticky; the summer sun had risen high and turned my car into a sauna in the parking lot. My shoulders and any bare skin lose on my body stuck to the seat and my fingers grew sweaty and slippery on the steering wheel. By the time I pulled next to the curb in front of my house, there was a small pool culminating at my feet when my sweat and dripped insanely slow down my legs, tickling the skin on the way down. The cold air of my home hit my like an ice cube being dropped in a bowl of hot soup, it made it tolerable, but not really having a point.

 

I threw my keys into the little dish at the front door and kicked off my shoes. The TV was still going just with a new sporting event that had my father’s attention. The Van was missing from the driveway when I had pulled up; mom was probably bringing Davey to one of his friend’s house. Searching the fridge for something refreshing I found only disappointment. We had week old milk and pineapple juice that I swear has been there from before I was born. I saw a coke that had been left behind from dinner a couple days ago and settled on that. The taste was flat and stale…if soda can be described as stale…

I headed down into the basement once again to finish what I had been working on before Amber had called. I settled into my chair and began working. My fingers flew over the pages, the ink of my pen scribbling words faster then I could think them. Above me I could hear the sound of shuffling feet that kicked off the dust of the ceiling sending it over me like a rain shower. It was around eight o’clock when I dragged myself up the stairs. I could smell mom putting the finishing touches on dinner before they had to leave for the party at nine. The sensuous smells reached my nose before I opened the door that led upstairs.

 

The table was full of out of the can vegetables, a plate of roasted chicken sat in the very center, white plates with soft flower designs sat arranged so precisely as if we were expecting some great company that we had to impress. I never understood the formality of making the table look so nice, you’re just going to pile food and spill, and have to have more to clean up in the end. My brother was the first one done as always, he throw his napkin on the table and raced back to his video games or whatever he did when he locked himself behind his oak paneled door. My parents followed suit with my mother screaming something about punctuality and my father grumbling about traffic, both leaving the overfull table of the leftovers and a sink full of dishes in my wake. You know…I’m really getting tired of this.

 

I grabbed the leftovers that were so carelessly left on the table and scraped some in Leo’s bowl and the rest in the yellow and white plastic garbage can. I grabbed one of the new sponges from under the sink and started working on the pile of filth in front of me.  Muttering there quick goodbyes as they rushed out the door, telling me to make sure my brother got a bath and that his night light didn’t need batteries. What kind of eight year old still needs a night light, I scoffed.

 

Placing the last of the newly clean dishes on the drying rack, I went upstairs to make sure everything was ready for Davey. His face was glued to the cartoon characters that danced over the TV screen to one of his shows on cartoon network or something along those lines.

 

“Time to get ready for bed Davey.” I told him standing in the door frame.

“Sure” he said not listening.

“I mean it, I’ll be back in 5 minutes I want this TV off and you in your PJ’s or ill tell mom. 

With a sigh he flicked off the TV and feeling accomplished in my authority I went into my room to throw on a pair of old PJ bottoms and my new favorite book ‘American Gods’ by Neil Gaiman. Leo was chasing around his toy mouse on my floor and tripping over his own feet. I heard the familiar annoying chime that was our doorbell ring downstairs. I poked my head in satisfied to see him in his PJ’s and getting into bed after brushing his teeth. The bell rang one more time through the house before I could reach it.

It had to be Amber, though I’ve never known her to knock before.

 

            When I opened the door I was relieved to see that it was her, but she wasn’t alone, Ben was with her.

            “Hey Sarah” Amber giggled as Ben said something in her ear that I couldn’t hear.

            “Hey…” I responded

Ben pushed his way past both of us and landed on the couch with a thud.

            “Nice place.” He said surveying my living room with scrutiny.

            “Thanks” I mumbled as I pulled Amber to the side.

            “What is he doing here Amber, I thought it was just gonna be us tonight, you know a girl night.”

            “Oh I didn’t think you would mind that much.” She said in her defense, as she moved her way to sit next to Ben.

            A car door opened and closed outside and I heard footsteps heading up my driveway.

            “I invited a few friends.” Ben said with a smug look on his face as if I was supposed to accept it.

            “How many is a few friends?” I questioned.

 

Within a half hour my house was packed with what seemed close to 100 kids. I saw a few kids drag in Kegs and no matter how many times I yelled for them to get out of my house, they would just smile oddly and move on. I searched for Amber all over my house and found her perched on the marble countertop in my kitchen, with a bottle of beer in her hand. Tugging her off the table she grumbled her annoyance but followed me anyway.

 

            “What’s your problem?”

            “What’s yours? I can’t believe you were a part in all this…”

            “What! You need to have more fun Sarah, I thought this would be a good idea!”

            “I told you I was babysitting Davey…..Oh god Davey.” I said as turned and shoved my way through the crowd of bodies to the stairs. Some of the more serious couples, and the more drunk couples and moved their actions upstairs…and on my bed, mental note, after all this is done, kill Amber, sterilize bed. Davey’s door was open, looking through all the rooms on the top floor, I finally found him standing in my parent’s room looking down at all the party goers that were outside.

           

            “I didn’t know you were having a party! Can I go?”

            “No you cant, I want you to lock the door behind me got that?”

            “You’re no fun…” he whined.

            “Yeah, Yeah.” I responded as I closed the door behind me.

 

The clock on the wall told me it was quarter to 10. Ok so about 45 minutes to get everyone out of the house before mom and dad get home. The crowd had grown bigger in the living room and I could hear the crashing of my mom’s antiques on the floor. God I was gonna be killed. Determined to find Amber again and get her to make her new boy toy get all of his little friends out of my house, I pushed my way through the hordes.  After searching through every room, I still couldn’t find her. Walking back towards the kitchen, the basement door was open wide and the sound of laughter rang through into my ears.

 

            I slowly descended the wooden slotted stairs. Fear pounded through me.

Soft words that I couldn’t make out yet came from a voice I recognized. Laughter rang out after the words stopped. As I moved slowly closer, the images of students I recognized and someone I thought I knew. Amber sat on the lap of Ben with my newest journal on her lap. Her voice had a mocking tone as the words dripped maliciously from her lips.

 

            “Amber what are you doing?” I said in a soft shaky voice.

            A quick flash of regret passed over her face and was quickly erased by an unsettling amount of uncaring. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

            “Get out…”I said softly at first my voice raising an octave with each syllable the came out, till my voice was nothing more then a shrill. The basement cleared out quickly and Amber gave me one last glance before she let the crowd drag her upstairs. My papers had been shuffled and carelessly tossed around on the ground, dirty footprints smudged the carefully written words. Unable to stand any longer on my shaky legs, I crumpled to the floor, the papers scattered below and around me. All the time Amber and I shared with each other, all the times she made me believe she was my friend ran through my head like someone flipping through the pages of a photo album. Tears ran down my face and soft sobs escaped my lips. The party was shutting down upstairs, I could hear the commotion or shuffling feet on the floor. I wonder if she stayed, probably not… The upstairs was gonna be trashed, my parents are gonna kill me. But at that moment I didn’t care. I couldn’t get past Amber and the betrayal I felt. What was I gonna do, who would talk to me in school….my life’s ruined. I heard the door upstairs open and close once more and I knew my parents were home. In my head I counted down from ten to when my name would be screamed. When I heard that shrill shriek I dragged my tired body up the stairs to receive my punishment, I didn’t care, anything they could say wouldn’t be able to effect me now. When you lose your entire world, nothing seems to matter anymore.

 

Reviews

[siri]

i love the way you write!!! this was a great story. the imagery was amazing. you created emotions perfectly. Thank you for the read! I think i will go read some more of your work!! and great job!!!High Five!

[Alice Bliss]

Great descriptions and use of dialog. This story keeps the reader engaged so that we want to know what mishaps will befall the main character. You convey the feeling of embarassment at her friend's betrayal very well--how mortifying! There are some misspellings and grammar issues, but nothing that ruins your story-telling. Fun read!

[Erin]

I feel the same way . . . all my friends are always mad cuz I don't let them see some of my stories. But yeah, I really liked this, I honestly couldn't stop.

[Kay]

Gosh totally cringe worthy! You are so descriptive it makes me sooooooo jelous! That and your spelling is so awsome! Anyway, I just wanted to say I can't wait to see more of your work!

[Melissa]

Wow, I've kind of had an experience like this before, recently actually. It didn't have a party and it wasn't about writing, but my best friend and I aren't friends any more now. But I know exactly how Sarah feels about people reading her work, I have the same fetish. I loved the story :)