H.B. and Gypsy

“Never…ever…”

I turn in my sleep, slightly crushing my arm under my ribcage, while a couple stray bangs manage to fall across my flushed face.

“Ever…Ever…”

A sudden burning feeling starts to add to the already distressed expression painted on my face accompanied by a bright light. My blinds seem to be reluctant to do their job this fine morning.

“Ever!”

Clouds of color start to turn into sharper shapes and familiar surroundings and I find myself back in my room.

What a weird dream…

As I open my eyes I am greeted my the unforgiving face of my mother screaming my name.

“Ever! What had gotten into you lately? Ive been trying to wake you up for 10 minutes!” My moms lips pouted. Her hands now weaving their way in-and-out of her perfect waves of hair trying to smooth out her bothered appearance.

Whats gotten into me lately? I can tell you. I’ve been having really odd dreams. These dreams consisted of people choking me, cutting my throat, and drowning…all sorts of horrible things, all associated with my vocal chords.

But this time was different. Someone was with me.

I put my thoughts aside and decide to keep it short with her.

“Well excuse me for wanting to sleep in on a Saturday morning,” I mutter, regaining the feeling in my vocal chords as I feel the words humming their way up and out of my lips.

"Its already 12:45!" She gasps.

"That means I should be asleep for at least two more hours." I grumble, smashing my face into my pillow.

She scowls and says something along the lines of “I don’t know where I went wrong…” and finds her way out of my room with an added “Oh Ever, I woke you up because I thought you would be happy to know that your letter came in today.”

The letter.

When I was in first grade, our teacher (and I fail to remember her name) told us to write a letter to our “grown-up selves” saying what we hoped we would have accomplished by high school graduation. All of our little pencils went scribbling away, describing dreams of “being on the football team” or “playing the lead role in a school musical”.

I wrote nothing of the sort.

When we finished writing them, she came around and collected them from each and every student. She then told us that we would get these letters when we finally are “all grown up”. In other words, when we’re done with high school.

So here I am, in the beginning of June, done with high school and having made little to no progress in my life.

I wonder what my letter said.

I attempt to sit up but a sudden stab of pain jolts through my back, and I retreat back to my previous position on my side while trying to rub out the tension that just manifested.

I suddenly remember what happened last night.

Fucking asshole.

I run my hands though my hair with a grudgeful sigh and manage to drag my self out of my bed and over to my broken dresser.

I hit it Once. Twice. Three times…and the drawer peeks open.

Piece of shit. I tell my mom I need a new one…and she fails do to anything about it.

I reach in and grab the closest t-shirt to my hand, it ending up being one of my favorites, my black and white striped t-shirt.

I slip it over my head and feel it embrace the curvy shape of my body. Gross.

My jeans are around here somewhere…A Ha! I remember I threw them off in a fit of rage last night after it happened. Which means they will be right next to the door.Sure enough, I see them in all their shitty, worn-out glory, right by my door which my mom so graciously left open from her earlier visit. I pull them on and walk out my door while buttoning the top button on my jeans, not bothering to look up as I walk down the stairs. I hear my mom and another person talking in the living room.

Wait…why are there people here? Talking to my Mom…In my house?

I dare to peek up and I am met with the faces of two people.

“Ever, this is Mrs. Lee and her son Landon,” my Mom chimes in.

Mrs. Lee was pretty for a middle aged woman, with sandy blonde hair and ashy grey eyes that also had a hint of…distress? Her son, on the other hand, looked like he could have been adopted.

I stood there observing his black, almost chocolate brown, hair. A lazy Mohawk ran down the middle length of his skull, from the nape of his neck to his hairline. Although the sides of his head werent shaved like people usually do when they have a mohawk. He just kept it slighty shorter. I think he was growing it out. He looked about my age, only a little younger. I don’t think it was his actual features that made him seem younger though, I think it was his mannerisms. He was very close to his mom, only occasionally looking up at me or my mom. But he mostly stared in the general direction of the carpet only peering through his bangs, showing about half of his gold eyes.

He was wearing a black long sleeved hoodie with dark blue pants on, a dark brown old leather belt slipped neatly through the loops. A really old pair of black Vans were tied up nicely on his small feet, his white socks peeking up slightly underneath. My eyes then lead themselves to his hands; he was nervously tracing little shapes into his left palm with his right hand.

Circle…hexagon…triangle.

It was almost as if he was trying to distract himself from something.

I blinked my eyes quickly to knock me out of my new found trance. That’s when I notice that Landon was peering out at me with an added anxious cough.

His hazel eyes were staring at me almost in fear, like he was trying to decide how I was going to hurt him or something. It made me almost sad for him.

I give a shy wave in their direction with a light “hello” and my Mom prompts me to sit down. I fight the urge to sigh and give in to her wishes, taking a seat on the far side of the couch my mom was currently sitting on.

God, this was getting awkward already.

“Mrs. Lee and Landon just moved in across the street. I thought it would be nice to give them a warm welcome,” my mom said, trying to work up the conversation.

“Well you will be warm enough, trust me. I wake up thinking I fell asleep in the shower because of how much sweat seems to escape me by the morning,” I add to my new neighbors, nervously rubbing behind my neck.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I mean, I know that I’m not very social, which usually leads to me being awkward, but I’m actually feeling very…observed. I’m used to just being ignored. Maybe I feel this way because this was an unexpected visit and I’m not prepared.

I was never the one to bring home a million friends after school either or be gone most of the weekend with things to do with people.

People just seem to repel from me, something I’ve never understood.

Landon lets out a small airy laugh, with his mouth still closed, while giving me a small smile. Was he blushing?

It was right then when I noticed that I haven’t heard Landon say anything yet.

He was sitting on the couch adjacent to the one I was currently sitting on, with knees tucked up as close as he could to his chest, hiding his hands behind them. As I continued to stare, I saw something slipping out of the pocket of his hoodie.

It was a note pad.

Upon noticing I had seen it, Landon gives me a worried glance and tucks it back into his pocket. He then tapped his mom on the shoulder and as she looks at him he runs his hand up and down his neck, as if he’s trying to tell her something. She nods in understanding, obviously getting the message that didn’t seem to reach me or my mother. Landon anxiously looks back down at his hands and starts to busy himself with a stray piece of thread from his sleeve, and made it a point that he was trying to hide his face. Then I saw his hand starting to reach for his notepad and a purple pen that I didn’t notice before. He flipped through it while trying to find an empty page and wrote something down in a hurry to show his Mom. Her eyes look a little saddened when she saw his note and abruptly announced, “Thank you for letting us in, but we have to get going, Landon has an appointment…maybe we can have a dinner sometime? Or a bar-b-q?” Mrs. Lee offers.

“No problem, of course. How does tomorrow at 5 o’clock sound?” My mom replies

“That sounds perfect, doesn’t it Landon?” Landon gives us a nervous smile and nods, bringing his attention back to the floor.

Mrs. Lee and Landon make their way out my door, and I can’t help but notice that Landon had a tear forming on the side of each eye when he was leaving.

What was that about?

I turn to my mom and ask to be excused. I need to see that letter.

I walk over to the kitchen table, where my mom likes to put the mail everyday, and search through endless coupons and bills in an effort to find my letter.

I see it.

I grab it and immediately retreat to my room, hastily hopping on my bed and tearing open the sealing on the 11-year-old envelope.

My fingers curl around the edge of the opening and pull out the letter.

I stare at it.

I sit with my legs crossed and my arms loosely holding the letter in my hands resting on my knees.

When I see it, I don’t know if I should be disappointed or completely intrigued.

I had only written two sentences, the first one saying:

You have to say something, Ever.

I continue to the second one that reads:

Or else, no one will.

I feel my fingers begin to tighten around the edges where I hold the letter and my expression begin to falter and crack under the weight of my realization.

I crumple up the letter and throw it against my wall, while a few tears happen to leak out of me.

I knew what that letter was about.

It was about my Dad.

I stare at what used to be my letter, now a pathetic destroyed piece of trash.

As I continue to stare at it, I hear the garage door start to open.

Oh Shit. He’s home.

I scurry downstairs in an effort to find my Mom and tell her I’m going for a walk, trying to hurry before my dad sees me, when I noticed she had left a note for me on the kitchen counter.

“Gone to pick up some groceries, be home soon. xo Mom”

I am so screwed.

My feet go as fast as they can and run back up to my room. I slam my door and do to my desk, pretending to do something productive because it seems to make him even angrier when I’m “doing nothing with my life”.

I glanced back to my door, searching for the sounds of footsteps. Then I realized, upon noticing the stream of light pouring in my room, I hadn’t locked my door.

Oh my god, I forgot to lock my door.

As I got up to lock it, hands shaking a little, I hear his fucking business-man leather shoes stomping their way up the stairs.

Too late.

I’m already at the opening of my door when my Dad reaches the top of the stairs and finds me glaring at him in fear.

“What,” he snarls. “Hasn’t your mother taught you that staring is rude? Goddamn it Ever, learn some manners.”

My words seem too afraid to show themselves, so I settle with nodding my head really quick while staring my shoes.

I quickly whisper to him “I’m going for a walk…if that’s okay.” My shoulders were still held up high with tension. I start to grind my teeth. I cant fucking stand this man.

He walks closer to me, and I flinch, fearing the worst, but he seems to change his mind and heads off to his room adding with a hostile tone, “Your ass better be back by lunch, or else you won’t have one.”

I manage to let out a small “Sure.”

I stand there and don’t move a muscle until I hear his door lock, and then I let a heavy breath out that I had been holding that whole time.

I rush downstairs and quickly pull my converse on, and fly out the front door.

How it got to this level is beyond me…

The early afternoon air seems to hug me as I leave my house. I tuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans and carry on down the street, observing all the different households and different families along my street. And before I knew it, I had been walking around for over an hour. I guess the thought of maybe having a remotely sane pairing of parents seemed to baffle me, and steal my attention completely. These houses though...they seemed like it was effortless. The comfort of having that cookie-cutter lifestyle must be nothing but what they are used to. They all seem so normal compared to mine. All except that family I met this morning,

Mrs. Lee and her son Landon.

Something was off with them, I know it. Landon never said a word and there wasn’t a second when Mrs.Lee didn’t look preoccupied. And what was up with his notepad?

Speaking of them, I think I see them pulling up to there house right now. They must be done with Landon’s “appointment.” I wonder what that appointment was about. A doctor’s appointment? Probably.

I had no idea, but I ended up walking over to their house and then came face to face with Landon and his mother. Landon looked surprised and really confused, while Mrs. Lee looked delighted.

“Ever! Nice to see you. Sorry about our abrupt leave earlier, I completely forgot about his appointment,” Mrs.Lee said.

I shrug my shoulders with a smile and say, “I don’t mind. You had plans, I understand.”

Landon smiles to himself and silently excuses himself, walking into his house.

Why does he keep leaving like that?

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before, but Landon…he has a problem with speaking.” she explains.

"A problem? How so?" I ask further.

"Touchy subject." She scrunches up her nose. "Im sure he'll tell you in time.Poor thing,one day, just...stopped talking."

I stare in shock. He just stopped talking? That would explain the notepad this morning.

There had to be a reason, though.

I start to shake my head in disbelief and furrow my brow. “So, he doesn’t speak at all?” I reason. I start to run my hands through my hair in utter confusion. I have never met another 18 year old who …doesn’t talk.

She just shakes her head slowly. “Since something happened to him when he was 7, he just stopped.” She looked like she was somewhere else…like she was re-visiting the time when it happened.

“What happened?” I try to get it out of her. She then said, “Not now,” as soon as she noticed Landon was walking back outside.

Landon finds his way out of the house and plants himself next to his mom, listening to us. He takes out his notepad and writes something down. Then he shows it to me with a timid glance.

Are you ok? , it read.

I hadn’t noticed that when Landon was walking out here, I forgot to wipe the confused and saddened expression off my face. He must think I’m crazy.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, thanks Landon,” I muster up the words in my lost stupor.

He just gives me a crooked smile with a nod.

“Maybe after you have lunch, you could come over and get to know each other,” Mrs.Lee questions.

Hm. I would like to find out what happened to Landon. He seems nice enough, and it wouldn’t hurt to attempt to make a new friend. Even if he didn’t talk.

“Uh, sure. Ill just ask my Mom and let you know,” I decided with a nod.

“Great we’ll see you then,” She says and Landon follows her back into the house.

I begin my way back home, but can’t help but think…

What Happened to Landon?