On the Edge of Eternity

I was born, on May 20th nothing particularly special happened on this day it very rarely does. However two months to the day my grandfather passed away. My mother told me of how when I was a baby she and my grandmother would leave me in the parlor while they fixed lunch and they would hear me cooing and giggling, in my bassinet, and when they would walk in I would be staring up, smiling as if I were watching someone. Never in my memory have I seen a ghost, however, sometimes I think that I have a memory of being in that bassinet and being visited by my grandfather, who knows if this memory is real or manufactured by my own mind either way it’s a comforting thought.

From the very beginning I love my grandmother the most of anything in this world. As a child I would spend weeks upon end with her. I loved her more that I loved my mother, and the saddest thing of that is my mother knew it. I would ball and cry when my mother came to take me home. I was my grandmothers shining star, she spoiled me to no end. I never wanted something I didn’t get. Then when I was three, my grandmother pushed my mother into enrolling me into baby ballet classes.

Something you should know, is my conception was an accident, though my mother to this day thinks that I cannot count back nine months, I was conceived in August and my mother and father were married in October. There is an almost twenty year difference in my parents ages, my mother was 38 when she gave birth to me. And my father was 75 when he died, but that’s jumping ahead in my tale, I just wanted you to know somewhat how old my parents were, as I feel that it had great bearing on my childhood. My mother quite her job as a vet when she got pregnant with me, so I had my mother home to raise me until I was 15 then she began working with the mentally handicapped. As she could no longer handle the physical labor that was required to treat her favorite patients, horses. But there I go again jumping ahead in my tale.

I soon became quite good at ballet, despite the fact the my right foot had a tendency to turn in instead of out. I was always excited to go to ballet class. My mother would often find me leaping and dancing about in my room. Even then I had this innate drive to be the best. I was soon my instructor’s star pupil, she even promised me that as soon as I was old enough she was going to let me start dancing point ballet, something I was truly excited to do. All I could ever dreamed about was being a prima ballerina. At the age of seven I got my first solo in the recital. I was my instructor’s ‘petite prima ballerina’.

But at this age I have few good memories of my father. In all actuality I have so few good memories of him I could count them on one hand. No my father never laid a hand on me when I didn’t deserve it; you see I was a very precocious child and always had a mind of my own, and that tended to get me in trouble, both of my parents believed in spanking their children, however I must been a slow learner and never cared enough to stop after I had been spanked. But I digress, My father was just never there, and when he was he was cold. But I never felt unloved, as the love of my mother and grandmother made up for it tenfold.

Then when I was only eight, my grandmother became very ill. We soon found out that she had cancer. What kind I do not know to this day, as I was so young, and its not a topic that my mother and I care to discuss. I watched my beloved grandmother, go from a vivacious woman to a feeble and withered shell of her former self. I watched her lose her hair from the chemo. I watched the woman I loved die before my eyes. I saw things that no eight year old should ever see. I don’t know if I really understood what was happening, other than the woman I loved could no longer play with me, or bake me cookies.

I remember very clearly the day that she died, we were in the hospital, she didn’t know who anyone else was except for me, I was the one she kept begging for, so I sat with her holding her hand, for all those long hours, making pleas and deals with god so I could keep her, but what could and eight year old offer god? ‘I’ll be good for mommy I promise if you let her stay,’ ‘I’ll stop being such a spoiled brat,’ ‘I won’t eat potato chips and ice cream again’, ‘god please let me keep her!’ ‘I’ll give up my favorite toy!’ But in all honesty she was in pain and every plea I made was a selfish one. And then at 3:30 in the afternoon, I had to pee. I carried with me my teddy bear , who has been throughout my life a constant companion who unlike anyone else caught all of my tears and has always been a shoulder to cry on. When I came out of the bathroom, my mother was nowhere to be found, and my beloved great aunt, Aunt Grammy, told me to come and sit on her lap. Of course being the child I was I protested and said that my “Memaw” needed me. I was never a stupid child, so when I heard my great aunt Marthy, ask aunt Grammy, in a hushed tone“ Should we tell her?” I knew what it was about. But even then being the person I was and the person I was bound to be I ignored it. And that is my greatest flaw even to this day, that I ignore my problems instead of meeting them head on. And true this used to work, they normally did go away, but as I have gotten older my much more adult problems don’t go away, but I digress. A few moments later my mother walked out of the room, I don’t know what she said, but she told me that Memaw had died, I only remember what I did next, I threw myself on the floor, tears streaming down my face. I was kicking screaming, “No! No! You lie!” I threw my ultimate tantrum that day. The kind you expect to see a three year old having in the toy isle of Wal-mart. The only way I made it through her death was by telling myself I will see her again in heaven, and convinced myself that it would even be soon. Oh, how when your so young you have no real since of time.

From that point on it was my mother and me against the world, we became so much closer. Everything that my grandmother and I used to do it was now my mother and I’s ‘thing’. Until the January day only a few months after I lost my Memaw we found out mom had Lung cancer. How my mom survived we don’t know. She was lucky beyond belief, hardly anyone survives lung cancer. It started out as a spot on her lung on an x-ray, it ended with her losing the top right lobe of her lung. I learned then even only being eight to never ever take her for granted.

When I was twelve I preformed my first point ballet dance in the recital I was the youngest she had ever thought it to, I was never more proud of myself. I only wished that my grandmother could have seen me. Then the summer before, seventh grade my friends and I were playing soccer in their yard. Justin kicked the ball and it went into the road, we had been practicing for soccer tryouts, I was trying out for goalie, and I missed the ball, being that brat I was I told him he kicked it he needed to go get it. I saw it happen every last tragic second of it, I saw the car hit him, I heard the sickening thud I saw him roll up on the hood and then fall to the ground again only to be caught by the front right tire. That was the first person I actually saw die.

But life must go on, and the time I was 14 I was little miss wonder child. I was the starting varsity goalie but that might have had something to do with there was no upper class goalies, Ophelia in the drama clubs production of Hamlet, and I had a solo and two group dances in the recital and I was helping teach some of the younger dancers. I had most importantly Hanna ,Beth , Shelly , Emily and Nate. Nate was my boyfriend, of course. When I met him I didn’t believe in love, and he sat out to disprove me. That asshole made me love him. But I did love him, and he loved me. I know he did. Nate loved me I never question that, and I know I never will. Its this one of those things, that is a constant, I will always have had that one special love with Nate, and no one can take that away. The memories are fond and often a little bitter sweet, but our time has passed, and I have found a new love, Lestat.

The first two years in high school, I was blessed. I suppose I have this thing that if I start something I must be the best at it, and thus my drive to perfection, it was almost unhealthy. If I wasn’t good at something I quit, it wasn’t worth my time. I was used to things coming to me easily. I was a lazy child that way I suppose. Another reason for all of my accomplishments in my activities could very well be because, as long as I was concentrating on being the best, I wasn’t thinking about all the death I had bore witness to.

Then Junior year happened, I lost all of my friends save Emily because I spent all of my time with Nate, I found out my mother had breast cancer, I then watched her lose her hair and wither. It was the worst right after the chemo treatments, when I had to take care of her, something someone my age should never have had to do its really something that no one should ever have to do. But I watched her fight unlike my grandmother. I watched my mother conquer cancer twice. Every ounce of stretch I have I get from her. However my stubborn streak comes from both my mother and father and the fact that I am a Taurus. One night after a particularly hard dance practice I sat unlacing my slippers and a girl a little younger than me sat down next to me to unlace her slippers, ‘ So,’ she began, ‘ Why are you still dancing?’ I looked at her strangely, ‘ I mean you have to know that you’re a little too… well heavy to make it in a real company I mean Madam Roussos said something about it earlier, I thought you knew.’ I stood a walked away. I didn’t know what to say or think, I has always assumed I would audition for a big company after having danced in college, but I gave up that dream in that moment. Oh I continued to dance but my heart was no longer in it the way it had once been. I’m sorry that I had endowments that most dancers would never have, hell my breasts were endowments that a lot of girls would never know. I took after my grandmother that way, being big chested. Another tangent I digress , I lost my position as starting goalie just because the new soccer coach hated me, I didn’t even letter my Junior year. Then I lost Nate, he had promised me forever, I didn’t know that forever was so short. But I suppose it was my own fault, I had turned in to , ‘a jealous mega bitch that didn’t put out.’ He broke my heart and I sank in to a deep depression. I began drinking, and smoking pot, and snorting pills. In that short span of a year I felt as if I had lost everything. Ahh but that stopped and slowed down once senior year started. Things seemed to be going alright for me. I had Emily my best friend and we had our own adventures since no one else would talk to us. But as my senior soccer season wore on I slowly started to reconcile with Hanna and Shelly , as they both were on the soccer team.

Then on our senior night soccer game tragedy again walked in to my life as it always seems to. We were up 3 to nothing in 26 minutes into the second half of the game, the girl on the other team she had a fast break, right down the middle, how she got it I don’t know, we had an amazing midfield like. I ready myself, as soon as she hit the top of the box that bitch was mine. But then Shelly was on her heels, she was going to slide tackle her give them a direct kick but as she slid another girl from the other team was right behind her. I honestly blinked and missed it, but I swear heard the nasty snap. Shelly didn’t move, and I was running to her side, I knew in an instant that there was no life left in her eyes. The two girls were screaming. I was stunned, I didn’t hear the girls screaming really, the world was spinning. I felt the insistent coach lift me off my knees . Never had anyone heard of someone dying during a high school girls soccer game of a broken neck. Of course they sent me to the school councilor, but how was talking about it going to change anything? My former best friend was dead and there wasn’t anything anyone could say to make me feel any better. For some reason I blamed myself, I didn’t know why but I felt as if I brought death to everyone around me . But I did the best to put it behind me . I had to channel it in to something else like I always had and that was my acting I had the lead in the drama club production .

Then Graduation came, how excited Emily and I were. We had spent all day getting ready. She was beautiful in her pink satin gown her long blond hair perfectly quaffed. Me my long black hair curled my white pearls around my pale neck. Dressed in our blue silk robes, the white rose on our lapels, we tossed out hats in celebration of accomplishments of the last four years.

There was a party that night. Somehow I snagged an invite, I was never most popular girl in school, but then most of the senior class had been invited. We were in the parking lot of the high school when Jake the blond haired quarter back offered, Jason, Emily’s boyfriend, and both of us a shot. He then pulled from underneath his robe a bottle of Jack. To say the least we all took more than a shot. When we left the parking lot we all had a good buzz. I don’t know what happened I don’t remember anything after pulling out of the parking lot. But I came to in a great deal of pain on a deserted road night falling quickly. I don’t know how long it took me to realize that Emily and Jason weren’t in the care anymore and the windshield was broken. Jason had been thrown from the car he was already cold when I got to him. That left Emily. I found her she was still alive but only just. I held my best friend as she died. I don’t know when but Nate and his friend showed up. I had no sense of time at that point. I know that Nate was yelling things, to his friend and to me, But I didn’t hear anything really, just muted and slurred voices. I was cold and shaking when he wrapped his arms around me. Nate held me until the ambulance got there, and he held me on the way to the hospital. He whispered sweet things in my ear meant to make me feel better, but I said nothing. Nate walked me into the hospital. When the nurses and doctors tried to rush me away into a room to examine me, I felt an uncontrollable shriek escape my lungs. Nate held my hand as they examined me, finding I had no injuries besides a few cuts and busies. Nate stroked my hair and held me close until my mother arrived at the hospital. My sweet Nate even kissed me good bye, before he left the hospital and that was the last time I ever saw him, besides a glimpse of him at Emily’s funeral.

That fall I went to University, hoping to forget everything , forgetting everything, from ballet to Emily. I was a history major, hoping one day to be a history professor. My life goal was to be one of the people you see on a history channel documentary. I quickly made to friends Lindsey and Matt. They were childhood neighbors, and only friends Lindsey assured me when she found out I had a crush on him. Lindsey and I soon became inseparable. I had never known a friend like her. She like me had a loyalty complex. She was photography major. And By winter quarter you never saw one of us without the other. I love Lindsey as I had loved Emily, I even fear that she might meet the same fate as her and m other poor friends. I know I should have told her about the deaths, but I felt for the first time in a very long time alive and happy. I had friends and I could be myself again not the persona I had created at school to hide the pain Nate had caused. I felt alive again. I was learning, I loved my classes History, Latin, French, Biology and English. I loved my French Medieval History class, and this was the class that Lindsey and I became such close friends, studying for tests.

Then in November, my father died. Like I said before my I never had fond memories of my father. Maybe, I just stopped trying when a week after my mother got out of the hospital having part of her lung removed he hit her in the parking lot of the pharmacy. Or the Christmas eve that he over turned the kitchen table on her. I didn’t go to my father’s funeral, I had class. My friends had tried to push me into going saying I would regret it if I didn’t. But after I explained to Lindsey and Matt what my relationship was like with that man, they dropped the topic, and to this day has yet to be brought up again.

I knew that since sometime in January someone had been following me. I even felt them there when we were lost in the woods, how, whoever or whatever it was kept up with us, and managed not to be seen the entire three hours in the woods I have no idea, but it did. And I knew it was me it was after not anyone else, I mean yes I spend most of my time with Lindsey and Matt so logically I shouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion that it was after me, but neither of them seemed to notice the almost constant malevolent presence. And even when I would finally climb into bed at night I could still often feel the presence. I didn’t realize until later that I never felt it there during the day but only at night. I was never really frightened by this presence, mealy curious, and slightly unnerved, but I never had the courage to take charge and confront whatever it was, I had seen horror movies I wasn’t about to get chopped to bits and be the first to die at the hands of an unknown assailant, leaving my friends and dorm mates to fight whatever it was. No if my life was going to be a horror movie I was the one who had to live, I was the virgin after all! I have a system for predicting horror movies, the good nice girl, lives or dies an altruistic death to save her companions. That was one of Lindsey, Matt and I’s favorite pass times, renting horror films and picking characters, to be us and seeing how long we lived in the movie. There I go again off on a very random tangent. As I said, I felt a presence, one that I could not explain and none of my friends felt it, and this is when my story really begins.