kelly! (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
graceviolet) wrote2013-06-23 09:28 pm
graceviolet) wrote2013-06-23 09:28 pm
Entry tags:
Story; The Aftermath (Laurel Burke)
I really like this one! Well somewhat... I definitely think it needs to be tweaked abit (I always say that haha); like I think I need to include what happens prior to this scene/piece first in order for things to make sense (even though to be honest...I have NO clue what happens!)
I sprinted out of the school so fast, not even bothering to grab a hold of my cane that I should have with me at all times, unless I don’t have Bear, my seeing eye dog.
But within these past couple of days I’ve made Bear stay at home and instead I’ve used my walking cane to maneuver my way around. In all honesty I guess I just wanted to be normal for a change, someone that didn’t have to put all their trust in a three year Labrador. And so if that meant I had to leave Bear at home then so be it.
I’m shocked I was even able to make my way out of the school, I guess you could say it was because of adrenaline. That and the fact that by now I have the school’s surroundings memorized by now.
I hear heavy quick footsteps behind me, and I know instantly who is following me. I would know those heavy strides anywhere. It’s my brother Will, also known as the last person I want to talk to right now. He’s the reason I ran from the school in the first place.
“Laurel, wait. Get back here!” I hear his booming, deep voice; it sounds worried and scared along with exhausted and tired from all the running he is currently doing.
I just keep on running, blurring out my surroundings entirely, which isn’t that hard considering I’m blind.
My feet continue running as I move further down the street.
The street that the high school is located on is Honeycomb Lane, just the sound of the name causes my mouth to be suddenly nauseous. I remember passing this street when I was little and sighted and took in all the quaint family shops and antique style atmosphere. The black metal fence that surrounded the houses that were further down the road. The lush green, perfectly trimmed trees that were planted every five feet or so in between the shops. When I was younger, I always imagined myself as a teenager, getting out of school, and hanging out with all of my friends at the Starbucks that was a five minute walk from the high school.
Sure I could do that now. I could walk into the popular coffee shop and immediately smell the rich, potent smell of coffee beans being grinded and hear the sounds of my fellow students chatting about their day. But it’s different you know. It’s just not the same as how I’ve always imagined my teenage years would play out when I was younger before I lost my sight. There I would be with my other fellow sighted friends, the captain of the cheerleading team and discussing various subjects like boys, celebrities and gossip that was heard throughout the halls that day. If I told a younger version of me that I would lose my sight at the age of 12 or that I had feelings for a girl, I would probably laugh in your face. But now all I have are the memories of seeing, that I know will eventually slowly fade away.
By this time, I have passed 4 shops, three crosswalks, and the ever famous Starbucks. I don’t even stop at the ridged grooved slabs of concrete that are the signification that the side walk ends. I just keep on running, not even bothering about the many cars that I’m probably delaying. But boy could I hear their loud horns blaring and the high pitched screech of the car quickly braking.
“I’m sorry about what I said about Arianna.” I hear a few feet behind me.
It’s Will again, still chasing after me it seems. I’m not surprised that he was able to catch up to me, he is a champion swimmer after all that’s running after a girl that can’t see let alone rarely exercises.
I hear the cars are moving past much more faster now; we must be close to the busy street that connects to Honeycomb Lane. This street is always full of your typical businessman trying to get to and from work efficiently. If one obstacle, like a blind girl trying to run away from her problems, gets in their way…all havoc breaks loose.
Instead of continuing to run, and most likely that would be into the busy street that currently has cars passing by, I stop and turn around to face in the direction I’m assuming Will is. “You’re NOT sorry! You’re just saying that!” All the nice thoughts I originally thought of my brother, immediately vanished. How I looked up to him, how I wanted to capture his drive and motivation and use it for my passion of science.
How dare he. How dare he talk to his friends about Arianna like he knows her, when he doesn’t. How dare he claim that he hopes Arianna doesn’t “turn me gay”. Reliving all the horrid words he said again is quite painful and will definitely never fade away.
“Okay, fine maybe I am,“ he responds. “But please at least let me help you cross the street so we can talk about this calmly. You don’t have your cane or Bear to help guide you.”
Oh how I love he thinks a rational and calm discussion will change things. Well it doesn’t, I now know what he truly thinks of Arianna and our friendship overall, and I will never confide in him again.
“I don’t need anyone’s help! I can take care of myself,” I yell back.
I then do the most reckless thing I have ever done. This surpasses the time I drew on the walls with Crayola markers when I was six and blamed Will for the whole thing. And that was, I ran. I ran into the busy streets, obviously not hearing to see if any cars were coming. I just ran without a care. Hoping that maybe if I get hit by one of these cars, a miracle will happen and I’ll be able to see again.
Or the car could always just run me over, and I could feel the car’s metal exterior bump up against my skin as I roll on top of the wind-shield. That would be okay, too.
Wait, why am I thinking this? How did I get this way to the point where I would even consider suicide?
“No, you can’t. GET OUT OF THE STREET!” I hear Will bellow from the sidewalk.
“NO!” I respond back.
As I hear the sounds of the cars whizzing past me, hear their horns loudly blasting their high pitched sound, and feel the sudden gust of wind through my hair every time a car whizzes by, I close my eyes and begin to drift off into early memories of when I was able to see.
******
As I head out of the brightly yellow school bus, I instantly run to the closed off area where a weeping willow tree holds a home-made swing over looking a murky colored lake.
On days where the weather is even the least bit warm, I don’t even bother to drop my school bag at the house, nor do I let my parents even know I’m home.
The second I arrive to this serene-like area, a relaxing sensation instantly overcomes me. I hop onto the swing that is only made out of a simple piece of plywood, which over the years has gotten more old looking and the ropes that hold it have started to slowly unravel, thus causing my hands to be pricked occasionally by the loose piece of rope.
But I don’t mind any of this. My favorite part is the sudden rushed feeling of the way my hair blows back from the gust of wind, and how I am able to lean my head back, close my eyes and pretend that I’m flying.
That somehow I have been given the gift of flight and I am soaring through the clouds high in the sky overlooking everything. My house, my school and even so far as other countries.
When I want to stop my flying adventures, I leap out of the swing and place my feet on the cold airy substance that is the sand by the lake.
I always try to see how close to the murky lake water I can go. Sometimes it’s an inch away, other times it’s a couple of feet. But the game I created for myself is not to land in the water.
If my feet so much as touch, that surely contaminated liquid, the game is over and I have failed.
With every leap I take off from the swing, my landings are always complete with a dramatic gesture with my hands up in the air, like I’m an Olympic gymnast competing in a match.
*****
I open my eyes and immediately all the sounds come back into focus, the car horns, the sounds of the tires swerving so they don’t hit me.
“Laurel!”
A driver blares their horn loudly in front of me; no effect on me whatsoever, not even a slight jump. However I do hear Will yell out to the driver, “She’s blind for fuck’s sake!”
I continue to conjure up memories of the past. Closing my eyes, like when I was younger on the swing set.
****
Every morning, I am awoken to the sound of Bear, my three year old yellow Labrador barking. His bark resembles a turkey gobbling. If I still wasn’t up, he would begin to place his paws on my full size bed and nudge at my face with his wet large nose.
At this time I would turn over on my other side, away from him.
This wouldn’t stop Bear. He would pounce on my bed, like he was a lion hunting his prey. He would then continue to nudge me with his nose or lightly lick me with his pink tongue.
“Go away Bear!” I would feel for Bear’s soft golden coat and tap him, trying to get him to let me sleep for a few more minutes.
Rou-rou-rou! Bear would bark again!
“Fine! I’m up!” I would throw my hands up in the air with frustration.
I tapped the button on my alarm clock on my nightstand to the right of me. “It is 8:30 A.M” The alarm clock said aloud. Every morning I would let out a big groan of frustration.
“Bear, I hate you SO much sometimes!”
And of course almost like she too was a clock herself, my Mom, would walk into my bedroom making sure Bear woke me up. “Oh good, you’re up. Breakfast is on the table.”
I looked in the direction of my Mother’s voice. “How come I need to get up early, even though I’m home-schooled? I can start whenever I want.”
I felt my Mom move closer to me, sitting on my bed next to me. “Because, it’s good to get up early. Would you rather be done with school early or later?”
I knew what she would want me to say, “Early.” I said very monotone.
“And besides, you wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t spend all your time watching TV or being on the internet. Don’t think I don’t hear your computer talking in the wee hours in the night.”
I just continued to listen to my Mom drone on and on. There was always something that my Mom could find a flaw in.
Even though two years ago, I lost my sight completely on my 12th birthday, my Mom still expected me to succeed and be the best person I could be regardless of my lack of sight.
My Mom threw back my long drapes, and instantly the room brightened up.
******
“Maybe this is how it’s all supposed to end. Maybe I was never meant to be alive. It’s not like I remember what the grass looks like or how blue the sky is.” I say coming out of my day dreams.
“You’re meant to be here. Trust me! It’s not gonna end this way, I promise.” Will responds. His voice sounded like he was standing a mere five feet from me where the sidewalk was.
“How do you know?” I could feel my long blonde hair being blown back in every direction because of the cars swishing repeatedly back and forth. The chilly wind felt good against my bare shoulders, the wind also moved the cotton-ey material of my tank top against my skin.
“I just believe in hope. Now get out of the street!”
I could hear Will jumping up and down in agony, his converse high tops roughly hitting the concrete of the sidewalk. If he’s so worried about me, why doesn’t he just rush towards me and “save my life”, I thought to myself. My response to Will’s statement was blunt and honest: “No! Not until my life turns around.”
Apparently he didn‘t seem to understand how difficult or messed up my life was right now. “You’re not making any sense! Please, walk towards my voice.” His voice was occasionally interrupted by the sounds of cars moving back and forth or the loud blaring of their horns, people saying, “GET OUT OF THE STREET!” or “MOVE IT BITCH!”
I closed my eyes, even though that wouldn‘t really do anything since I‘m already blind, dipped my head back and tossed my hair from left to right. “Mmm, I just love the sounds of the cars rushing past me. And the gust of wind that blows my hair back. Perhaps if I stand here, it’ll finally happen and this will all be over.”
I suddenly felt a figure rush towards me, the front of his shoes accidentally rubbing up against my own shoes as well. “Not if I can help it.” Of course that voice was Will’s
I then feel his arms roughly around my waist, and the next thing I know he’s dragging me across the road, back to safety.
“What the hell was that for?! Take me back! I want to go back to the street!” I was screaming at him, causing a scene by punching the air with my fists and kicking up dirt from my shoes. First he humiliates Arianna and me, and then he ruins my plan, some big brother he is.
“Don’t say that. You belong here! Things are going to get better for you, I promise.” Will tried to calm me down by embracing me in a warm hug, his arms like venus fly traps and I was his prey.
“How do you know?” I asked him, I noticed my voice was hoarse and weak, probably from the yelling.
“Like I said, I believe in hope.”
“But what about what you said earlier? How loving her is wrong?” If I don’t have my brother supporting me, then would anyone else in school support me?
“I was the one in the wrong, not you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all.” He paused. “And after seeing this crazy stunt of yours…you had me worried sick!”
I was the one in the wrong, not you, Will’s first sentence repeated itself over and over in my mind. He admitted it! He was the one in the wrong. I couldn’t quite comprehend my brother’s support at first, I guess it was because I was so used to people fake caring because I was blind. Just because I can’t see people’s rude facial expressions, doesn’t mean I can’t feel them or hear them.
“By who?” I ask.
“Random people walking down the street, some family members, friends. People that you thought loved you might turn on you. I was just scared for you.”
“Like I said, I can take care of myself.” I explain to him once more.
“I guess you can.”
He grabbed my hands and slowly lifted me up off the dewy grass that was inches away from the sidewalk.
“Let’s go home, Laur. You can tell me all about Arianna on the way.”
A giddy bright smile displayed on my face at the mention of Arianna. And you know what? I found myself talking about her to my brother the rest of the way home.
And also: do you think this is TOO dramatic for our little Laurels to face?
Oh and you get mindtwin points if you can guess what inspired me while writing this! (I'll give you a hint; here's the quote from the show which i think you might know: "How could I forget?")
I sprinted out of the school so fast, not even bothering to grab a hold of my cane that I should have with me at all times, unless I don’t have Bear, my seeing eye dog.
But within these past couple of days I’ve made Bear stay at home and instead I’ve used my walking cane to maneuver my way around. In all honesty I guess I just wanted to be normal for a change, someone that didn’t have to put all their trust in a three year Labrador. And so if that meant I had to leave Bear at home then so be it.
I’m shocked I was even able to make my way out of the school, I guess you could say it was because of adrenaline. That and the fact that by now I have the school’s surroundings memorized by now.
I hear heavy quick footsteps behind me, and I know instantly who is following me. I would know those heavy strides anywhere. It’s my brother Will, also known as the last person I want to talk to right now. He’s the reason I ran from the school in the first place.
“Laurel, wait. Get back here!” I hear his booming, deep voice; it sounds worried and scared along with exhausted and tired from all the running he is currently doing.
I just keep on running, blurring out my surroundings entirely, which isn’t that hard considering I’m blind.
My feet continue running as I move further down the street.
The street that the high school is located on is Honeycomb Lane, just the sound of the name causes my mouth to be suddenly nauseous. I remember passing this street when I was little and sighted and took in all the quaint family shops and antique style atmosphere. The black metal fence that surrounded the houses that were further down the road. The lush green, perfectly trimmed trees that were planted every five feet or so in between the shops. When I was younger, I always imagined myself as a teenager, getting out of school, and hanging out with all of my friends at the Starbucks that was a five minute walk from the high school.
Sure I could do that now. I could walk into the popular coffee shop and immediately smell the rich, potent smell of coffee beans being grinded and hear the sounds of my fellow students chatting about their day. But it’s different you know. It’s just not the same as how I’ve always imagined my teenage years would play out when I was younger before I lost my sight. There I would be with my other fellow sighted friends, the captain of the cheerleading team and discussing various subjects like boys, celebrities and gossip that was heard throughout the halls that day. If I told a younger version of me that I would lose my sight at the age of 12 or that I had feelings for a girl, I would probably laugh in your face. But now all I have are the memories of seeing, that I know will eventually slowly fade away.
By this time, I have passed 4 shops, three crosswalks, and the ever famous Starbucks. I don’t even stop at the ridged grooved slabs of concrete that are the signification that the side walk ends. I just keep on running, not even bothering about the many cars that I’m probably delaying. But boy could I hear their loud horns blaring and the high pitched screech of the car quickly braking.
“I’m sorry about what I said about Arianna.” I hear a few feet behind me.
It’s Will again, still chasing after me it seems. I’m not surprised that he was able to catch up to me, he is a champion swimmer after all that’s running after a girl that can’t see let alone rarely exercises.
I hear the cars are moving past much more faster now; we must be close to the busy street that connects to Honeycomb Lane. This street is always full of your typical businessman trying to get to and from work efficiently. If one obstacle, like a blind girl trying to run away from her problems, gets in their way…all havoc breaks loose.
Instead of continuing to run, and most likely that would be into the busy street that currently has cars passing by, I stop and turn around to face in the direction I’m assuming Will is. “You’re NOT sorry! You’re just saying that!” All the nice thoughts I originally thought of my brother, immediately vanished. How I looked up to him, how I wanted to capture his drive and motivation and use it for my passion of science.
How dare he. How dare he talk to his friends about Arianna like he knows her, when he doesn’t. How dare he claim that he hopes Arianna doesn’t “turn me gay”. Reliving all the horrid words he said again is quite painful and will definitely never fade away.
“Okay, fine maybe I am,“ he responds. “But please at least let me help you cross the street so we can talk about this calmly. You don’t have your cane or Bear to help guide you.”
Oh how I love he thinks a rational and calm discussion will change things. Well it doesn’t, I now know what he truly thinks of Arianna and our friendship overall, and I will never confide in him again.
“I don’t need anyone’s help! I can take care of myself,” I yell back.
I then do the most reckless thing I have ever done. This surpasses the time I drew on the walls with Crayola markers when I was six and blamed Will for the whole thing. And that was, I ran. I ran into the busy streets, obviously not hearing to see if any cars were coming. I just ran without a care. Hoping that maybe if I get hit by one of these cars, a miracle will happen and I’ll be able to see again.
Or the car could always just run me over, and I could feel the car’s metal exterior bump up against my skin as I roll on top of the wind-shield. That would be okay, too.
Wait, why am I thinking this? How did I get this way to the point where I would even consider suicide?
“No, you can’t. GET OUT OF THE STREET!” I hear Will bellow from the sidewalk.
“NO!” I respond back.
As I hear the sounds of the cars whizzing past me, hear their horns loudly blasting their high pitched sound, and feel the sudden gust of wind through my hair every time a car whizzes by, I close my eyes and begin to drift off into early memories of when I was able to see.
******
As I head out of the brightly yellow school bus, I instantly run to the closed off area where a weeping willow tree holds a home-made swing over looking a murky colored lake.
On days where the weather is even the least bit warm, I don’t even bother to drop my school bag at the house, nor do I let my parents even know I’m home.
The second I arrive to this serene-like area, a relaxing sensation instantly overcomes me. I hop onto the swing that is only made out of a simple piece of plywood, which over the years has gotten more old looking and the ropes that hold it have started to slowly unravel, thus causing my hands to be pricked occasionally by the loose piece of rope.
But I don’t mind any of this. My favorite part is the sudden rushed feeling of the way my hair blows back from the gust of wind, and how I am able to lean my head back, close my eyes and pretend that I’m flying.
That somehow I have been given the gift of flight and I am soaring through the clouds high in the sky overlooking everything. My house, my school and even so far as other countries.
When I want to stop my flying adventures, I leap out of the swing and place my feet on the cold airy substance that is the sand by the lake.
I always try to see how close to the murky lake water I can go. Sometimes it’s an inch away, other times it’s a couple of feet. But the game I created for myself is not to land in the water.
If my feet so much as touch, that surely contaminated liquid, the game is over and I have failed.
With every leap I take off from the swing, my landings are always complete with a dramatic gesture with my hands up in the air, like I’m an Olympic gymnast competing in a match.
*****
I open my eyes and immediately all the sounds come back into focus, the car horns, the sounds of the tires swerving so they don’t hit me.
“Laurel!”
A driver blares their horn loudly in front of me; no effect on me whatsoever, not even a slight jump. However I do hear Will yell out to the driver, “She’s blind for fuck’s sake!”
I continue to conjure up memories of the past. Closing my eyes, like when I was younger on the swing set.
****
Every morning, I am awoken to the sound of Bear, my three year old yellow Labrador barking. His bark resembles a turkey gobbling. If I still wasn’t up, he would begin to place his paws on my full size bed and nudge at my face with his wet large nose.
At this time I would turn over on my other side, away from him.
This wouldn’t stop Bear. He would pounce on my bed, like he was a lion hunting his prey. He would then continue to nudge me with his nose or lightly lick me with his pink tongue.
“Go away Bear!” I would feel for Bear’s soft golden coat and tap him, trying to get him to let me sleep for a few more minutes.
Rou-rou-rou! Bear would bark again!
“Fine! I’m up!” I would throw my hands up in the air with frustration.
I tapped the button on my alarm clock on my nightstand to the right of me. “It is 8:30 A.M” The alarm clock said aloud. Every morning I would let out a big groan of frustration.
“Bear, I hate you SO much sometimes!”
And of course almost like she too was a clock herself, my Mom, would walk into my bedroom making sure Bear woke me up. “Oh good, you’re up. Breakfast is on the table.”
I looked in the direction of my Mother’s voice. “How come I need to get up early, even though I’m home-schooled? I can start whenever I want.”
I felt my Mom move closer to me, sitting on my bed next to me. “Because, it’s good to get up early. Would you rather be done with school early or later?”
I knew what she would want me to say, “Early.” I said very monotone.
“And besides, you wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t spend all your time watching TV or being on the internet. Don’t think I don’t hear your computer talking in the wee hours in the night.”
I just continued to listen to my Mom drone on and on. There was always something that my Mom could find a flaw in.
Even though two years ago, I lost my sight completely on my 12th birthday, my Mom still expected me to succeed and be the best person I could be regardless of my lack of sight.
My Mom threw back my long drapes, and instantly the room brightened up.
******
“Maybe this is how it’s all supposed to end. Maybe I was never meant to be alive. It’s not like I remember what the grass looks like or how blue the sky is.” I say coming out of my day dreams.
“You’re meant to be here. Trust me! It’s not gonna end this way, I promise.” Will responds. His voice sounded like he was standing a mere five feet from me where the sidewalk was.
“How do you know?” I could feel my long blonde hair being blown back in every direction because of the cars swishing repeatedly back and forth. The chilly wind felt good against my bare shoulders, the wind also moved the cotton-ey material of my tank top against my skin.
“I just believe in hope. Now get out of the street!”
I could hear Will jumping up and down in agony, his converse high tops roughly hitting the concrete of the sidewalk. If he’s so worried about me, why doesn’t he just rush towards me and “save my life”, I thought to myself. My response to Will’s statement was blunt and honest: “No! Not until my life turns around.”
Apparently he didn‘t seem to understand how difficult or messed up my life was right now. “You’re not making any sense! Please, walk towards my voice.” His voice was occasionally interrupted by the sounds of cars moving back and forth or the loud blaring of their horns, people saying, “GET OUT OF THE STREET!” or “MOVE IT BITCH!”
I closed my eyes, even though that wouldn‘t really do anything since I‘m already blind, dipped my head back and tossed my hair from left to right. “Mmm, I just love the sounds of the cars rushing past me. And the gust of wind that blows my hair back. Perhaps if I stand here, it’ll finally happen and this will all be over.”
I suddenly felt a figure rush towards me, the front of his shoes accidentally rubbing up against my own shoes as well. “Not if I can help it.” Of course that voice was Will’s
I then feel his arms roughly around my waist, and the next thing I know he’s dragging me across the road, back to safety.
“What the hell was that for?! Take me back! I want to go back to the street!” I was screaming at him, causing a scene by punching the air with my fists and kicking up dirt from my shoes. First he humiliates Arianna and me, and then he ruins my plan, some big brother he is.
“Don’t say that. You belong here! Things are going to get better for you, I promise.” Will tried to calm me down by embracing me in a warm hug, his arms like venus fly traps and I was his prey.
“How do you know?” I asked him, I noticed my voice was hoarse and weak, probably from the yelling.
“Like I said, I believe in hope.”
“But what about what you said earlier? How loving her is wrong?” If I don’t have my brother supporting me, then would anyone else in school support me?
“I was the one in the wrong, not you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all.” He paused. “And after seeing this crazy stunt of yours…you had me worried sick!”
I was the one in the wrong, not you, Will’s first sentence repeated itself over and over in my mind. He admitted it! He was the one in the wrong. I couldn’t quite comprehend my brother’s support at first, I guess it was because I was so used to people fake caring because I was blind. Just because I can’t see people’s rude facial expressions, doesn’t mean I can’t feel them or hear them.
“By who?” I ask.
“Random people walking down the street, some family members, friends. People that you thought loved you might turn on you. I was just scared for you.”
“Like I said, I can take care of myself.” I explain to him once more.
“I guess you can.”
He grabbed my hands and slowly lifted me up off the dewy grass that was inches away from the sidewalk.
“Let’s go home, Laur. You can tell me all about Arianna on the way.”
A giddy bright smile displayed on my face at the mention of Arianna. And you know what? I found myself talking about her to my brother the rest of the way home.
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Yep, I was inspired with the whole, 'Effy in the street & Cook saving her', etc.
hmmm...I didn't have Katie/Emily & Katie/Naomi in mind but I guess it works.
(PS: Haven't seen Skins Fire yet so no spoilers! Rewatching all the series prior to watching the last season; just finished series 1)