Goodbye Alice in Wonderland

I tighten the tan rubber band at the base of my black band tee shirt, adjust my plain black sweatshirt and lay and look up at the merrily twinkling stars in the sky, not caring that my worn jeans will be covered in dirt. My best friend, Kim, lays beside me, clad in similar jeans, shirt and sweatshirt.

We've just taken a walk around her neighborhood after ordering a large peporoni pizza and watching Fuse, a channel like MTV before it stopped playing music.

"You know something?" I begin, "You're my My-Ass-Hurts friend."

She looks at me and laughs, he ebony skin showing in the moonlight. "What do you mean?"

"Like, with some people, you say something like, 'Ow, my butt hurts,' and they give you a strange look. But, with you, you'll just shrug it off or even say something back like, 'Yeah, and I have a wedgie," I elucidate, which causes us to laugh so hard our sides hurt.

"Yeah." she thinks for awhile and finally says, "How did we meet, anyway?"

"Want the long or short version?"

"Eh, we've got time. I'll take the long one," she responds. So, I begin to tell her.

8 Years Earlier...

Wind whispered through the treetops when I raised my quivering arms with the bow, gingerly, I puling back on the string and arrow. When it was as far back as it can go, I released it only a faint, mosquito-like sound as it was launched through the air. It lands somewhere far in the freshly mowed grass in front of me and I’m greeted with applause from my proud father and uncle. Like tiny fingers, the clipped blades of grass cling to my bare feet as a run to retrieve the arrow.
Opon returning, my father hugged me and kissed my head, his blond beard and mustache tickling my scalp. The scent of flour and frosting filled my nose, for he spent much of the day preparing the food for my 7th birthday party, a small event with just my parents and my uncle. Having a father who was a chef in a restaurant had its perks.
Since we lived on an old, white farmhouse on two acres of land, I excelled in archery, due to the fact that we had so much space, despite the fact that I was so young.My uncle Steve, a near photocopy of my father, but rounder in the middle and with longerhair, similar to my own, stood beside him. I already opened my gifts this morning, after bothering my parents nonstop if I could. This included several books and videos as well as a brown teddy bear that nearly towered over me.
A short distance away, my mother poked her head out, her maroon locks swaying in the breeze outside and called, “Let’s have some cake!”
My mother was the happiest person you would meet, and she was the kindest as well. People often felt comfortable around her because she didn’t try to look in style or as though she was better than anyone else.
We all gathered inside and ate, everyone sharing stories of their youth even though we had finished eating in the first five minutes. My pale cocker spaniel puppy, Mohegan, or Moe for short, sat beside me, begging for scraps the whole time.
After eating, my father and his brother sat on the couch, but I took my place the floor, not trying to be lady-like in the slightest by sitting cross-legged in a dress. My mother’s singing echoed through the halls as she puttered around the house.
We had two TVs in our large living room, one with limited channels, so it was usually used for video games. The other with cable, the one that was most used. There was nothing interesting on TV, so my dad was flipping through the channels. He paused on a news channel, which was discussing the actions of the president.
“That Clinton, he’s a real winner,” my uncle said sarcastically, shaking his head.
“I agree. He could at least do something more with foreign affairs than just sending a bomb over,” I replied, quoting from something what my father said a while ago.
“Yeah. Wait a minute!” He exclaimed, looking at me as though I had discovered the cure for cancer. He leaned over to my dad and partially whispered, “How does she do that?”
He just smiled at me. “She’s just smart.” This sent me wiggling happily in my seat.
As any hyperactive child would, I eventually got bored. So, I went to my mother, who was gazing out a window that showed our large front yard, as she washed our dishes. Her looks cause me to giggle, for her dyed blonde hair is pulled back, something she only does for cleaning and baking, and is secured with a paisley-patterned bandana. Blue sweatpants adorn her legs and a purple shirt completes her look. It’s in this she wipes her glasses.
She smiled and hugged me and I gaze at the window with her. Just then, our neighbor Sam, who lives with his mother, Ethel, drove by on his ride on mower. Although I can’t see him very well, I know he’s wearing a plaid shirt and overalls, even though the only time I see him is when he drives by on the driveway we share until a fork separates us to our homes.
“Why is he doing that?” I asked quizzically. She laughs and says, “I’ve driven by after he’s gone up and he sits at the end of the driveway. He says he’s waiting for the mail to come. I think he just wants to romance the mail woman.”
Thinking of Sam trying to get a date makes me laugh and just seems so absurd to me. Suddenly, my black cat, Shadow, pounced on a moth as delicate as a petal, sending us into a fit of giggles. "Remember when we first got him?" My mother said, smiling at our cat.I nodded, "He was a stray living in the garage. You and daddy were trying for hours to get him in.
"So, we took a break and you just picked him up and put him inside," she continued, "Still haven't figured out why."
The next day at school, I looked solemly at my feet as I walked around the perimeter of the warm black top where other groups of children were playing leapfrog and tag.
For awhile, I was used to playing by myself after not knowing what playing with other people was like. But, as I started to notice that people begun to gather in groups and fewer and fewer people would come up to me and ask me if I wanted to play with them. It soon got to the point where many days I would wander alone on the black top and no one would come up to me.
The teachers finally blew their whistles and everyone filed inside like soilders. We now had lunch, so I went into the cafeteria with my golden lunch ticket in hand, quietly got my lunch and padded to my guidance conselors office. Outside the door was printed "Mrs.S" is garden-esque caligraphy. The door was opened wide and in sat Mrs.S herself, who's last name I couldn't spell or say at all, and three other girls.
"Hello, April!" Mrs. S said to me as I walked in, her kind, aged face adorned with a smile. She edged her chair over more so I could sit, smoothing her deep purple skirt over her large frame. "Welcome to Friendship Club!"
I shyly smiled, pulled over a wooden chair from the corner, and sat at the rounded table.
"Since this if your first day, I'll introduce you to everyone. This is Rebecca," she said, gesturing to a pale girl who's black hair that framed her face seemed a high contrast against her skin, "this is Jessica," she continued, motioning to a plain-looking brown-haired girl,"and this is Kerry," she announced with a point of a finger. Kerry had an athletic-looking, stoic face and her brown locks were pulled tightly back into a ponytail.
We all quietly ate our lunch as Mrs. S suggested we play Scrabble. We wordlessly played, only speaking when spoken to by our guidance counselor.
This is stupid. I thought sadly. I don't think any of these girls would ever want to be friends with me.
But, for the rest of the year, I continue going to Friendship Club, only politely answering questions and continuing to walk that lonely blacktop. This torture stops and a new one begins when I move to Goldmine road
"Jen, my mom's probably worried sick about me!" I pleaded to my best friend, who was among the first of the people I met when I moved to Goldmine road.
She absent-mindedly adjusted her brown ponytail, fixed her caramel eyes on me and said, "Your mom will come around the block looking for you around 8," she said simply.
"But, I don't want her to be mad at me."
"She won't. She lets you back out every time and you've never been grounded."
"Please, just let me go home!"
"Fine, but I won't be your friend anymore."
I take this ultamatim in and weigh each side. I could stay here with Jen and listen to her call me a bad dancer and that my hair is too knotted or I could go home safely to my home and have Jen say even worse things about me. I decided to stay, freezing in the subzero December temperatures on Jen's front porch.
From my spot, volitile fighting was heard, probably Jen's parents, who's relationship was all but peaceful. It was hard to say if they'll divorce or not, Jen was the one who told me they might, but with her, it's hard to separate what is a lie and what is not.
Finally, a ray of light walks down the road in the form of my mother. A flashlight was in her hand as well as the leashes of my dogs Moe and Honey Dew, a cocker spaniel puppy.
"Mom!" I said, running up to her, trying not to sound too excited. Rather than hug her, I decided to pet my dogs. Jen follows me and explains to my mother, "Sorry, Mrs.Kenney, we lost track of time." She also bends down and pets my dogs.
Finally my mom and I journey back up the hill named Goodhill Road, but our pimp-wannabe neighbor, Ken, painted the "I" to look like an "E" so it now read "Goodhell Road."
"You really should just leave, April," She says to me, looking worried as soon as we're out of earshot of Jen. "You have better friends, like Alex and Trent." She looks at their houses as she speaks, Alex's a pale-sided house on Goodhill and Trent's, who's blue house was at the intersection of Jens's street, Avery road, and Goodhill.
Trent was one of the last people I met, along with Alex, who were good friends. I didn't know Alex even existed until my Uncle Steve mentioned that his boss had a daughter my age who lived in the neighborhood. So, when I was walking my dogs one day, she was outside and we just became friends. She then introuced me to Trent, a quirky theatre geek. Him and I have never had a fight or even a small argument.
"I know, but I'm scared to leave. She'd me even meaner to me!"
She sighed and said, "I just don't want you to come home crying everday,"
Sadly, what my mom said was true, for the next day, I was crying as I stepped off the bus. Angrily, I wiped my tears away, for I was felt as though I were Alice in her Wonderland, falling down the rabbit hole without any idea of how to get back out or what would be waiting at the bottom.
Seeing my sadness, my mother enveloped me in her warm embrace, the smell of white linen emitating off her.
At the door appeared Roshelle and Tiffany, the two coolest and nicest girls in our neighborhood, who were best friends.
"Hey, guys," I said as I motioned them inside.
"We heard that Jen's been saying all kinds of horrible things about you. And that's so stupid," Tiffany said.
"Yeah!" the rest of us piped. "Want me to call her mother?" My own mother asked.
At first I was hesitant, but the more I thought about it, the more logical it seemed. If Jen's mother found out that she was treating me terribly, then she would be punished. So, I wouldn't have to deal with her! It would all be so perfect. I agreed to let her.
Roshelle and Tiffany comforted me as my mother dialed the number and exchanged some colorful words with her. When she hung up in a huff, my mother looked infuriated.
"'Girls will be girls,' is all she said! The nerve of her!"
My heart sank through the floor. Jen still wanted to be my friend and he mother didn't care that I was being verbally abused on a regular basis. It was then that I decided enough was enough. I wasn't going outside for anyone ever, even if my true friends, Trent and Alex, were blocked, too.

Later...

“Please come outside,” Alex begged to my ear through the phone. "I'm your best friend, aren't I?"
"My mom wants me to stay inside and help clean," I lie and closed my eyes tight in preparation that she didn't believe me.
She groaned. "Again?! Here, I'm putting Trent on." I can picture her standing outside in sweats and her strawberry blonde hair pulled back, absent-mindedly bouncing an old, worn basketball.
I heard the rustling of the phone being switched and then Trent's moderately deep voice that puberty interrupts with cracking.
"April? Is this because of Jen?"
I bit my lip. "No, why would it be?" More lies.
"You told me about the fight your mom and her mom got into on the phone about Jen picking on you so much. Some friend she was."
"Jen still thinks we're friends. She come by every day asking if I can hang out. If I say no to her and say yes to you and Alex, she's going to find out and she'll start picking on me again." I countered.
"Then say you don't want to be her friend."
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
I blinked at the thought, but finally said, "I'm scared." I say this while petting my cocker spaniels for comfort.
Trent seemed to understand this. "Okay, bye."
"Bye." I hung up the white, cordless phone, but still held it in my hand. I looked at the TV, some spanish soap opera, but wasn't paying attention, for my mind was in a different world of it's own.
I began to think about the situation I was in. Alex and Trent were the only true friends I had, for everyone else thought that I was crazy or just weird. I felt bad that I no longer spent time with them, but I if I were to go outside with them, Jen would see me and I'd be ruined.
I snapped back into reality and begin turning channels. It was all the same stuff: women selling jewelery, nuclear familes all learning lessons from their mistakes, talking that people call "rap" and the list goes on.
Finally, I stop on a channel on a different sort, called Fuse. Blared from my speakers is music that reminds me of the 80's but with a different twist. A somber gathering of people in funeral colors sung about not being okay. Their music was upbeat, yet serious at the same time somehow. Gutairs and vocals mixed together perfectly, creating a sound that's not too deep, not too high. When the song ends, I squinted at the screen to see the words "My Chemical Romance. I'm Not Okay (I Promise). Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge."
I scrounged until I find a pen and a piece of paper and wrote it down. This was definitely something I could get into.
Then the TV changed and a man who looked to be in his 20's sat on a red couch. Beside him, sat the same band who's song just played.
"Welcome back to Steven's Untitled Rock Show. That was My Chemical Romance with their debut song "I'm not Okay (I Promise)." He then turns to the band. "So, how're you guys?"
They all answered with a nondescript good.
"Well, a lot of people have been asking about you guys ever since you played on the small stage on Warped Tour. So, tell us about your band."
What looks like the lead singer started speaking. "We're not at all the rock star types. What you see on stage is only an act. While other bands are getting wasted in their tour vans, we're trading comic books."
The comment sent everyone into a roar of laughter.
Someone else spoke up. "Yeah, we're a bunch of rejects. We really wanted to show that in the video for I'm Not Okay."
I stared at the screen as though it has given me the purpose of life. There are other people like me?I'm not a freak? This was a new thought to me after so many years of being picked on and ignored. I decided then to become more like them.

Back to Present Time...

"So, my mom and I went shopping a little while after that. I started getting a lot of black shirts. She only said, 'Oh, a lot of black today, huh?' It was just assumed that I was changing and that was that.
"I knew I had to distance myself from Jen, so I read an ad in a newspaper for Northern Star Karate. One of the things it talked about was gaining self-confidence, which I seriously needed. I started taking it and soon, I began to have courage to become my own person."
"What belt are you up to, anyway?" She interupts.
"Brown."
"How high is that?"
"Well, it goes white, orange, green, brown, red, blue and black, so it's decent."
"Ah, well, continue."
"Then, I met you in seventh grade. You hated me in the beginning, I'm not sure why, though."
"Well, Cassy and I were still best friends, so when you started being friends with her, I thought you were trying to steal her away from me."
"Really? Oh. Anyway, we started talking and eventually we became best friends. I'll never forget the day that you came in wearing eyeliner and black lipstick. That was so funny."
"Yeah, it stuck for awhile. Now, I don't even care about makeup anymore."
"Same here."
It's quiet between us for a moment, with nothing but the chilly air passing between us. The silence is not awkward, however. It's one that shows we're both thinking the same thing.
"Well, that was longer than the rant about how much you hate feet!" she says, laughing.
"And that's saying something!"
Another silent, pensive moment.
"You know what?" I say after thinking, "I think we'll be friends forever."
"Why's that?"
"Really? Why?"
"Well, our lives both were horrible before we met," I start.
She sighs and looks sad for a minute, but says, "Yeah, I guess. After my dad died, I became really shy and didn't have many friends. I was lucky to have the ones that I did."
"On top of that, we changed, but we changed together for the better.Besides, we'd miss each other way too much!" I say, smiling.
"Hey," she finally replies, "Did it ever say why Shuichi liked Yuki in Gravitation?" Gravitation was a show that her and I always watched when I went to her house, which was about a rock star who falls in love with a novelist.
"That was so random!" I say as we both nearly die of laughter that seemed to say that it was agreed we'd never stop being friends.