What I Can't Recall

"Well, well September, fancy meeting you hear," I hear a familiar voice say, clicking his tongue. I can hear his hard shoes click against the wooden floor, as he takes slow steps towards me. Maybe the last thing I’ll ever hear.

I turn around a fraction of an inch, almost afraid as to what will be in my vision line. I don’t like how familiar the voice was. When I finally dare to look, I see the familiar face to match.

"You?" I breathe out, shocked. I could tell you right now my face went pale white and had a look of disbelief written all over it.

Really, it just figures I'd be killed by someone that I once loved. Bryler and I used to talk about how we wanted to die, and I’d always say that I wanted to die for someone I love; so that’d they’d be there with me until the very end. I also said that if I ever was in so much pain I couldn’t go on, I wanted them to kill me right then and there. It was because when I died, I wanted at least one person I loved to be there, I wanted them to stay until the very last moment.

I'm clearly in pain now, and I really don’t know if I can go on. Not without Mom.

"Bye, September."

I take a deep breath, and with all the courage I have, say,

"Bye, M-"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Ah, frick!" I scream; startled and roll off my bed, landing on the floor with a big thump.

"Ouch,” I mutter, then go back to reassuring myself so I won't freak out . “A dream, it was just a dream...," I tell myself, breathing heavily.

A dream that actually happened. A dream that I am going to have to testify about in court, if the police ever figure out who it was exactly that killed Mom.

Even if they do figure it out, I'll have to remember exactly what happened, which I don't, but no one knows that. With the exception Bryler, as of last night. The night it happened- I stayed out cold until around midnight. I woke up in a panic with a bleeding arm that hurt really bad, a terrible headache, and the feeling that I was forgetting something important. I ran over to Bryler's, where Sarah called the ambulance right away. I was rushed away to the hospital. The next day the police came and they questioned me, and I just told them I didn't see anything, but I remember I did. I remember vaguely that I knew him. I remember thinking about how familiar he was. If I try really hard, I can remember bits and pieces of that night, but it always gives me a terrible headache.

I sigh and pull myself up off the cold hardwood floor. My leg is throbbing from where I landed on it weird, but besides that I managed to not hurt myself too terribly bad. I walk across the room to the window and pull back the dark maroon curtains to a blindingly bright sun.

"Ugh, bright," I mumble groggily, shielding my eyes.

I look over at my clock; it's one forty-five in the afternoon. Everybody else is probably already gone. Sarah's at work, and Bryler said something about going to the pool with Jason and Ellie. I sigh and then walk over to "my" closet. After staring blankly at everything for a moment, I finally just grab of a pair of jeans shorts and a black tank-top. As per usual. I’m not really the type to vary style; I’m a consistency kind of girl. Always one who opts for comfort instead of style.

I walk down the hallway and into the kitchen. I quickly grab a bowl out of the cabinet and then walk over to the pantry. I decide on some Cheerios, pouring some milk into the bowl, and then put a CD into the old purple boom-box that sits on the counter. It’s covered in strange stains and stickers; it seems like it’s almost as old as me. It has a cassette player on it. I take a seat at the counter, pouring the box of Cheerios in until every last bit of it is in my bowl. I make a mental note to add “cereal” to the shopping list for Sarah later.

As I start to eat my breakfast of champions, my favorite song on the track starts playing, and I start singing along pretty loudly as I eat, since nobody else is home.

“Today's the day,
the worst day of my life...

I'm learning to fall,
I can't hardly breathe,
when I'm going down don't worry 'bout me,
don't try this at home,
you said you don't see,
I don't wanna know that you know,
it should have been me.”

“Overall a nice job, though I recommend you work on your projecting you voice better...,” I hear a male voice say from behind me. I scream so loudly when I hear him say that, I swear I can't even hear it myself.

I turn around to see Bryler in a pair of swim trunks, completely dry, covering his ears and wincing.

“Loud enough, are you? God, no need to freak out. It was only a recommendation, you didn't have to take it to heart,” he says, smirking a little as he does so.

“I-I....I…,” I try to say something to him, but I can hardly breathe, let alone talk. Once Bryler realizes I'm having trouble breathing, he hands me a brown paper bag that conveniently laying on the counter for my disposal. I breathe in and out about ten times then attempt once more to talk.

"I...I'm gonna kill you!" I yell at him, hitting him on the arm. “God, you dipstick. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

"Sorry. What was I thinking being here, in my own house?" He say; his voice thick with sarcasm. The smirk remains in tact, as cocky-looking as ever.

"Well, you told me you were going to the pool with Jason!" I say in defense.

"I thought if you ever arose from your deep sleep you'd want to come with us. I was beginning to worry, though. I thought I was going to have to go find Prince Charming and get him to kiss you," he explains, smiling wide.

"Over exaggerate, much?" I say, as a last attempt to win our semi-fight type thing. We seem to be having a lot of those these days.

"Well, whatever. Just go get ready. Ellie and Jason are waiting outside. Seth and Derrick are with them, too," he tells me, opening a cabinet and peering in; no doubt in search of a Poptart.

“Fine,” I say in a grumpy tone, and stomp back towards my room with a grimace on my face and a pounding heart.

God, what a delightful morning.
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After about thirty or so minutes of being at the pool, I wish I'd never come in the first place. I'm wearing this white bikini with blue polka dots that I really hate, I have a tremendous headache, and I just want to go home.

"Hey, September, is that Kaylie and May over there with Drew?" Ellie asks. I guess you could say Ellie was my closet friend that was a girl. If Bryler wasn’t around, she’d definitely be my best friend. We’ve known each other since second grade; we sat next to each other in class. We bonded over how much of a brat Jessica Cooper was for being a paste-hog, and how gross boys were- except for Bryler, I’d always say.

I look over to where she's pointing to see two extremely skinny girls with the perfect hair everybody seems to have and name-brand swimsuits everybody who lives on the rich side of town owns about fifty of. The girls’ appearances just scream “cheerleader”. An incredibly hot guy with no shirt is standing next to them, trying to look cool as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet; observing who all is at the pool. Probably looking for one of his jock friends, or a hot girl.

Even I’d admit that Drew was a hottie, but he was not cool. Not in my book, anyways. He seems like one of those guys that appears to have no personality. The kind that just think of sports and girls constantly. I mean, I understand what guys are like, but seriously. Surely there’s something that requires using more than two of his six brain cells to think about.

"Yeah, that's Kaylie and May and Drew. All together. Shocker," I say, the sarcasm thick in my voice as if it‘s an accent.

Kaylie, May, and Drew all run with the popular crowd. In fact, they run the popular crowd, therefore the entire school. Drew, who will be a senior this August, is the captain of the football team, basketball team, and baseball team. He has light brown shaggy hair, and intense brown eyes. He has a six pack- apparently, anybody who’s anybody on the football team does- and is 6'0” tall, every guy’s dream. He’s basically180 pounds of pure muscle and dead brain cell.

Kaylie and May are both cheerleaders, Kaylie is captain and May is co-captain. Kaylie will be senior and May will be a junior. They both have long, blonde, perfect hair that falls to the middle of their back, and deep green eyes. They are both around 5'6”, have not an ounce of fat on their body, and huge boobs. In short, they are the average teenager's idea of perfect.

They are always together, always. Mostly because Kaylie and May follow Drew around like lost puppies, but also because they are always up to something. I used to think that they were okay, that they were nice people with just a great bonus of being incredibly good-looking. I was wrong, though, they are sadistic jerks as well . No one understands the meaning of cruelty until they arrive in the main hallway of the high school. I'm pretty sure when they wake up in the morning, their first thought is 'How can I totally humiliate someone today?'

“Yeah, I thought so. God, look at May! She's so skinny. And pretty. Look at her hair! It looks perfect, even with the wind and humidity. Why, oh why, must evil people, like them, be blessed with good looks when wonderful people, like me, are so fat and ugly?” Ellie asks dramatically.

I roll my eyes, sighing as I set down the still-open magazine face down on my bare stomach. I can feel the cool, glossy page against my belly-button; it feels kind of weird, but good at the same time.

“Ellie, for the millionth time today, you're not fat. Or ugly. Your hair is fine the way it is; straight, long, pretty brown hair. And you’ve got those wide hazel eyes of yours, with your thick eye lashes. And I mean, look at your lips. They’re full as it gets. Don’t get me started on the skinny thing, you know it just pisses me off. You’re pretty much a stick, you just have curves, which guys like. So stop being insecure, before I hit you.”

“Then why aren't the guys all over me like they are them?” Ellie asks, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she does so.

“Because you have a boyfriend. Remember Jason? He's likely to kill anyone who even looks at you, let alone flirts,” I say, wondering why she didn’t seem to appreciate her boyfriend. I would be happy if I just had one guy all over me, but Ellie seems to need five.

“Well, not Bryler. Or Seth. Or Derrick. They look at me and talk to me all the time. They've even been over to my house a few times…” she trails off.

“Well one, Jason was at your house, too when they were over, and two, it’s because they're his friends and he trusts them. He knows they‘d never do that to him. As for all those other guys out there; Jason has no clue about. To him every guy is the enemy, because anyone could steal you away from him,” I explain, taking a deep breath after doing so. Talk about a mouthful.

“Still. I kind of wish I could be them,” she decides, looking at them longingly.

“But then you'd be a bitch and I would hate you,” I say, closing the argument, picking up the magazine and then going back to reading the article I‘d been only half-way through with.

Then, as if right on cue, Kaylie seems spot us for the first time; though we’ve been here for half an hour. She calls us over, for some unknown reason. It‘s like she thinks we're her friends. A lot of people are like that now, and I could never tell if it was because they were sorry for me, or just because I'm famous- well, as famous as you could be in this town. And for what? My mother being murdered. This town hasn‘t had a murder for who knows how long… maybe never. All the criminal records are pretty low.

"What now?" I mutter to myself as I get up and make my way over there, grumbling the whole way. The last thing I wanted to do today was have a chat with them. I try my best not to feel intimidated, but its hard not to with them staring at my arm as if it's not even there .

"What happened to your arm?" May asks, rather rudely I might add. She has both her eyebrows raised, and she’s looking at me as if I’m stupid. It’s not like it’s my fault that some dude shot my arm. God.

"I got shot," I say; annoyed that she would ask such a stupid question. It's not as if everybody doesn't already know what happened to my arm. It's been the freaking talk of the town for the last month. Hell, the story was on CNN. I've been a somewhat common household name here. I hate it. I can't stand to be the center of attention. I hate having everybody's eyes on me, waiting for me to make my next move, and expecting it to be perfect. I'd much rather be in the background, where people usually have no expectations of you at all. You’re just there.

"Are you allowed to get it, like, wet?" Kaylie asks, sounding extremely blond, as stereotypical as that is for me to think.

"Um, no? I wouldn't be able to swim right anyways. I can barely move my arm," I say, getting a little impatient with her. I was tired of this conversation, and was regretting ever coming over here in the first place.

"Good." She says, her lips twitching up into a slight smirk.

"Good?" I ask confused; my eyebrows furrowing. I swear, she never made any sense. The popularity was getting to her.

Then I feel some rather girlie hands (May's; I can tell) push my back really hard, and towards the water, where the deep end is.

I start falling, and only have time to scream, before I'm drowning, and have no way of getting out. But I have a bad feeling, A hopeless one. That even if I somehow manage to get out of the water, I'll still be drowning.