In addition to working my way through an immense labyrinth of history notes and algebra problems, I somehow found time to read The Great Gatsby. Not to worry, there will be more on this soon. I also moved up from 9th to 4th chair in orchestra and got my braces off in the same week, which was a a joyous occasion for all involved. (I guess that would just be just me and my orthodontist; who confirmed this by saying "Thank heavens, I thought this day would never come." as he practically shoved me out the door.)
Anyway, as I said before, there will be more posts soon as first quarter is winding down and I should have a good amount of free time this weekend. But for now, I'm going to leave you with this paper I wrote for English class, because someone who's opinion I value very much said "This, like, belongs on the internet, man." I worked really hard on it, and I hope it shows. Any comments would be very much appreciated.
Rain
All around me, there was rain. Falling from the sky, running in rivulets down the street, soaking everything in sight. Except for Scott and I. We were spared from the afternoon shower because we were sitting at a table outside the ice cream store, sheltered by a faded red umbrella bearing the stores logo. I tried to occupy my mind with something, anything but the recent events of this week. But I was unsuccessful. It seemed as if every little thing I did now reminded me of Charlotte.
It had been a week ago today since the accident. Already it seemed as if the details were mixing themselves together in my mind, like pastel marks of different colors being blended together on a canvas. I didn’t want to forget, because forgetting would be a dishonor to her memory. But I didn’t want to remember either. To stop the memories from flooding my mind, I turned and looked at Scott. He was playing with a bit of string he had found in his pocket, twisting it into different shapes, tying and untying. He checked his watch and then met my eyes, giving me a sympathetic look.
All of a sudden I heard the blaring of a car horn from the road, and instantly it was Saturday night again. I was back in the drivers seat.
I could hear the police sirens and fast talking voices, but nothing they said was comprehensible. The battered hood of the car, bathed in the eerie blue and red glow of the lights, was the only thing I could see. I couldn’t even turn my head, due to a sharp pain in my neck, but that wasn’t important. Was Charlotte alright? Why hadn’t she said anything? A numb feeling washed over me as I realized the only breathing I could hear was my own.
“Charlotte?” I whispered, my voice shaking. There was no answer. “Charlotte, can you hear me?” I tried again, louder this time. Still I was answered only by silence. “Charlotte!” I shouted as loud as I could, but I suppose I already knew there would be no reply. The very seat Charlotte had occupied not even five minutes ago was now empty. Her body was still there, but her spirit had disappeared, blown out like a candle. Never again would I see her smile. Never again would I see her laugh. She was gone.
There was a sharp knock on my window. I tried to turn and look, but unsuccessfully. I reached out my left arm and unlocked the door with shaking fingers.
“Are you hurt? What happened?” A voice said urgently. I felt myself being pulled out of the car and onto a stretcher. I didn’t know how to respond, so I tried to shake my head. The voice asked my name, and I answered in a quavering voice. I didn’t care that I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance, what would happen to Charlotte?
“Charlotte, where is she? Wait-” I was cut off.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing we could do.” Said the voice grimly. “I’m so sorry, honey. Now just lie down and we’ll be at the hospital soon.” I felt a needle penetrate my arm, and soon I was overcome by sleep.
For a few blissful seconds when I first awoke, I thought I was in my bed. But the beeping monitors and the squeak of shoes on linoleum put an end to my ignorance. My neck brace was the first thing I noticed when my eyes finally fluttered open. The second was the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The third was my mother.
She touched my arm lightly, as if I might break if she wasn’t careful. Her chair was pushed backwards and at an angle so that I could still see her. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, but she was smiling. I was alright, and to her, that was enough. I didn’t want to imagine how Charlotte’s mother was feeling right now.
“Mom,” I began, wanting to ask so much but not knowing where to begin.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She began, “I was so worried.” My mother told me everything that had happened, as far as anyone knew. The other driver had run a red light at a four-way intersection, just after ours had turned green. He had walked away with a few bruised ribs and a minor concussion. Charlotte hadn’t made it. She was killed instantly, as the other car had hit us on the passenger side. There was nothing I could have done. Those words were repeated over and over, but despite the reassuring tone of my mother’s voice, I didn’t feel any better. There was nothing Charlotte could have done either.
Slipping back into to the present, I drew a shaking breath. My knuckles were white from where I had been clutching the side of the table.
“Are you alright?” Scott asked, touching my arm gently. “Did it happen again? The flashbacks?” I nodded, still breathing heavily.
“Scott, I’m scared.” I whispered, just barely audible. “Everyone at the funeral will know it’s my fault. I can’t go.” There was a pause before he replied. The rain was falling even harder now, drumming on the roofs of the cars in the parking lot.
“Alice, you know as well as I do that you didn’t kill Charlotte.” He said calmly. “It was the other driver. There was nothing you could have done.”
“Scott, do you know how many people have told me that?” I said harshly, raising my voice. “I was there, not you. I was the one in the car. It should have been me, not her. But it’s my fault.”
“Don’t say that, Alice.” He said, looking straight at me with his vibrant green eyes. “You have survivors guilt. There was nothing you could have possibly done to save her. I know she was your best friend, and I know the easiest person for you to place the blame on is yourself, but you need to let it go. It’s out of your hands. It was out of your hands from the moment the other driver ran the red light. I can’t stand to see you this upset, and I need you to realize how wrong you are.”
I was taken aback by how intensely he said this. I could see the desperation in his eyes, and I knew it well. It was the same look I saw in my own eyes in the reflection off of the windshield after the accident. With a start, I realized how upset I was making Scott by holding on to all of my guilt. And Scott wasn’t the only one being weighed down by it. Obviously I couldn’t forgive myself, not completely. Not this soon. But as a looked out into the rain I realized that I needed to step out from the umbrella under which I had been cowering. I knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but I had to try.
“We should get going.” Scott said quietly. “We don’t want to be late to the funeral.” I nodded, and stood up, ready to face the rain.
