Charlie Who?

I shot up in bed and gripped my chest. I could feel my lungs clenching in my ribs. I tried to steady my breathing, but my lungs only seemed to compress tighter and tighter. I hissed and moaned as the pain increased. A couple of lights flickered on in the hallway and I heard swift footsteps thumping on the hard wood floors. I leaned back in bed and screamed at the last clench of my lungs, the light flickered on and flooded my room. I curled up in a ball biting my lower lip. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I cried out loud.

My mother stormed into my room followed shortly by my father. She pulled me up into a sitting position, and coaxed me to relax. I cried harder into her chest as my lungs throbbed and clenched.

“Harold, get her inhaler!”

I opened my eyes and saw my father frantically searching through my drawers. My mother held my inhaler to my mouth and pleaded for me to breath in the medication. I did as I was told and began to inhale the medicine until I felt my lungs relapse. I fell into my mother and took slow deep breaths. My heart was still racing and I massage my neck.

“Are you okay, kiddo?” my father inquired sitting beside me on the bed.
I nodded and wiped away the fallen tears on my cheeks. My mother pushed my hair out of my face and massaged my back cooing words of assurance. When they were sure that I was fine, my father leaned in, kissed my forehead and led my mother back to their bedroom. I stared out the window and into the pitch black night and begged myself to go to sleep. I couldn’t, my body felt tired but my mind however was far from easy.

Each time that I had an asthma attack, it was over something horrific. The last time I had one was after the car crash my parents and I were in a year ago, ever since I made sure that I had my symptoms under control by taking my daily medication. I remember the day that we got into that car accident, my father swerved the car causing it to roll over four times to avoid hitting this man running a red light. The man had been plunged out of his vehicle through the windshield and landed in the middle of the street. I was pulled out of the window by an onlooker and saw the man’s body strewn across the street. He was just lying there in a pool of blood surrounding him.

I remember my mother screaming as she gripped my father’s arm and held onto her swollen stomach. It was then that my lungs started tightening my air was constricted and I lost consciousness, the only thing I could recall from after that is waking up in the hospital and being told that my unborn brother didn’t make it. My mother was distraught. She stayed in bed for weeks at a time, it was only then did my asthma worsen and I had to keep in check with my medication. Devastation and overwhelming events was the only trigger for my awful attacks.
Only this time, I had no idea what went wrong.



Diane Lowe was gorgeous for 17 year old public high school student. She looked like she belonged in a movie set or in… a brothel considering some of the clothes she wears. Her blonde locks billowed down her back in soft curtains; she had beautiful bright blue eyes that twinkled every time she was amused. Her cheeks were naturally rosy and she had pale pink lips. She made girls like me look repulsive. Yet every morning she stood in front of a mirror with a frown on her porcelain face.

“It’s completely hopeless,” she cried, discarding the shirt she had previously been wearing
“What is?” I questioned taking a bite out of my granny smith apple
“My life!” She threw herself into her computer and just sat there shirtless. I was shocked as to why such a beautiful girl like Diane felt that her life was over because she couldn’t find the “perfect” shirt to wear. I looked down at myself and suddenly felt self-conscious. If Diane felt that way about herself, I wonder what was going on in her mind about me.
“Relax. I’ll find you an outfit,” she groaned openly as I searched her wardrobe. I knew I didn’t have a brilliant sense of fashion, considering the fact that the only fashionable item I had in my closet was a shirt that I bought on my trip to France, but I kept quiet and continued to searched through her immense collection of clothing.

“How’s this,” I asked holding out a pale orange shirt and jeans.

She took the clothing from me and headed in to her bathroom to change. I sat down on her windowsill and gazed down at the street. The weather was getting colder and the sky had this dull blue hue that usually accompanies fall. I was about to turn away when a dark figure caught my eye. Across the street was a figure clad in black and resembled a certain boy from my school.

“Hey, Diane?”

“What?” She called from within her bathroom

“Did you know that Charles Fletcher lived across from you?”
An uncanny feeling rose in my throat when I spoke his name and I tried to convince myself to move away from the window before it was too late. Too late for what? I questioned myself. But it was too late. Charles looked at me with his navy eyes and my heart stopped. Chills trickled down my spine, my hands felt cold and clammy, but before I knew it he had disappeared, almost into thin air.

“What were you saying?” Diane asked tying her hair into a bun.

“Nothing. Let’s just go to school,” I hitched my backpack on my shoulder and walked down to my car.

I looked around cautiously and succumbed to Diane’s request to drive. I slumped into the passenger’s seat and warily looked outside praying not to come across him on his journey to school. I had no idea why I felt this way towards Charles Fletcher, but the mere thought of him made my breath hitch in my throat and my palms begin to sweat. It couldn’t possibly be admiration; I had a great deal crushes to miss that.

“Who are you looking for?” Diane inquired

“Pardon?”

“I mean, you look like your searching for your soul mate. Girl, you’re on the prowl,” Diane gushed

Diane has always been fixated on finding love, whether it was for me or her, a little thing like that would make her happy. But this time I wasn’t seeking out my crush in the crowds huddled outside the school, I was avoiding someone. Diane tugged my arm to help search for our group of friends. Of course they were situated right in front of the oak tree right outside of our school. But they’re not alone.

We've got company.