Second Life
Premonitions
The premonitions started only months after my birth. At first they haunted my every waking moment, and sometimes my sometimes disrupted my sleep as well. The visions were something I couldn’t rid myself of, nor could I ever become accustomed to them. But by my early childhood, I slowly began to accept I was different from anyone else. I spoke my first words at a late age of four years. Even then, I never mentioned the premonitions.
My family was averse to my desire of solitude, but my peers were another story. Beginning elementary school, not a soul knew my secret. And yet the other children knew I was not one of them. What frightened them, I'll never know. Was it my silence? My desire to eat my lunch, or swing on the playground alone? The distant, and clouded appearance of my jade eyes? Or the cold stare I gave them as they whispered about me?As early as kindergarten, I was an outcast. While I never quite became accustomed to my “condition”, I quickly adapted to being alone.
My premonitions became more of a burden in the third grade. My mother had kept me home from school three days with a horrible cough. I had no temperature, but I was dizzy. My lungs felt as if they'd been bathed in horrendously thick smoke. On the fourth day, I was feeling only a little better. My cough worsened mid day. I passed out only an hour or two before school let out. In my state of conscienceless, I was on fire. My body tingled as the imagined embers singed me. The smoke thickened. My throat burned, as did my flesh. I woke up sweating. Coughing harder than before. My grandparents took care of me that night. It wasn't until the following morning my condition improved, and they felt I could handle the news. A fire in our basement had severely damaged our home.
In the fourth grade, I awoke in the night crying. My ears rang from glass unbroken, and I sensed the tension between my feuding parents. My mother had been drinking, and my father had had enough. After a fight I'd seen only in my premonitions (my grandparents took my sister and I away from the scene, long before anything could turn physical), they filed for divorce. Despite her alcohol problem, mother never sought treatment, and remained my primary care taker. It was then I spoke of my premonitions for the first time. My mother, sister, and grandfather would have none of it. Grandpa insisted they my overactive imagination, and an inward cry for help. That it was perfectly normal for a child in my position to have gone just a little mad. My mother and sister offered no explanation. Grandma, on the other hand believed me. She lent her ears to me, and for the first time in my life I felt safe. Sadly, she passed away six months later.
Her death made everything seem hopeless. I considered taking my own life, but was too much of a coward to do so. Instead I planned to run away. In the cover of night, I would slip through my window, taking only my most prized possessions. I would camp out in a nearby woods. In day light I would take a bus to Chicago, where my father now lived. At my naive age, the plan seemed brilliant. That night my life did change for the better. However, it certainly wasn't in the way I'd expected. Falling from the ledge of my two story bedroom window resulted in a trip to the emergency room... There I came face to face with Terra. My first real friend.
Terra and I had seen each other before, many times before, since we attended the same elementary school. Like the other children, Terra had kept her distance from me. She was a part of the crowd. The one I long ago realized I could never be a part of. Sitting in the same waiting room with a broken ankle, broken wrist, and a broken arm somehow broke the ice as well. We were fast friends, and the rest is history.
After her, others followed. Before long I found myself still isolated to a certain degree, but no longer completely alone. Through the end of grade school and those two years of junior high, I passed the time with other girls. Over time, the names and faces run and blend together. Like water colors on a wet canvas. All the people in my memory look the same. They were friends of the fair weather sort. Each time my life took a new direction, they ran in the opposite one.
Terra was loyal to me. No matter how awful I was to her. With regret, I recall several tantrums. I wish I could count on one hand the times I took out my frustrations on Terra. She was docile and fragile, even as a teenager. She she stood there passively. Absorbing every blow. Every hurtful word, and the occasional physical abuse. While no one else could see her pain, I could feel it. The fragments of her hurt cut deep into my soul. To harm her, was to harm myself. My punishment, and sick pleasure. In my mind I could see sometimes she ran home, slammed her bedroom door, and cried about the things I said to her. And yet things never changed. Even after years of my thoughtlessness, she showed only patience towards me. Though that isn't to say she reaped no benefits from me. Through out junior high school, the insecurities within the cliques often disadvantaged Terra. Fair skinned, petite, and attractive over all, other girls often envied my best friend. The female population excluded her, while the male population used her. The cruelty of both sides sliced emotional wounds into Terra. Wounds that stung me. I suddenly became Terra's protector. I vowed never to let anyone hurt her, any worse than I had only years ago. Come freshman year I was powerless to protect my friend any longer.
A generous uncle of Terra's frowned upon the “evils” of public education. Years in advance they'd discussed the possibilities of transfer. Terra' mother was also unhappy with the district, but felt it best she finish junior high in the same environment it began. But come highschool, Terra and I would be attending different schools.
My family was averse to my desire of solitude, but my peers were another story. Beginning elementary school, not a soul knew my secret. And yet the other children knew I was not one of them. What frightened them, I'll never know. Was it my silence? My desire to eat my lunch, or swing on the playground alone? The distant, and clouded appearance of my jade eyes? Or the cold stare I gave them as they whispered about me?As early as kindergarten, I was an outcast. While I never quite became accustomed to my “condition”, I quickly adapted to being alone.
My premonitions became more of a burden in the third grade. My mother had kept me home from school three days with a horrible cough. I had no temperature, but I was dizzy. My lungs felt as if they'd been bathed in horrendously thick smoke. On the fourth day, I was feeling only a little better. My cough worsened mid day. I passed out only an hour or two before school let out. In my state of conscienceless, I was on fire. My body tingled as the imagined embers singed me. The smoke thickened. My throat burned, as did my flesh. I woke up sweating. Coughing harder than before. My grandparents took care of me that night. It wasn't until the following morning my condition improved, and they felt I could handle the news. A fire in our basement had severely damaged our home.
In the fourth grade, I awoke in the night crying. My ears rang from glass unbroken, and I sensed the tension between my feuding parents. My mother had been drinking, and my father had had enough. After a fight I'd seen only in my premonitions (my grandparents took my sister and I away from the scene, long before anything could turn physical), they filed for divorce. Despite her alcohol problem, mother never sought treatment, and remained my primary care taker. It was then I spoke of my premonitions for the first time. My mother, sister, and grandfather would have none of it. Grandpa insisted they my overactive imagination, and an inward cry for help. That it was perfectly normal for a child in my position to have gone just a little mad. My mother and sister offered no explanation. Grandma, on the other hand believed me. She lent her ears to me, and for the first time in my life I felt safe. Sadly, she passed away six months later.
Her death made everything seem hopeless. I considered taking my own life, but was too much of a coward to do so. Instead I planned to run away. In the cover of night, I would slip through my window, taking only my most prized possessions. I would camp out in a nearby woods. In day light I would take a bus to Chicago, where my father now lived. At my naive age, the plan seemed brilliant. That night my life did change for the better. However, it certainly wasn't in the way I'd expected. Falling from the ledge of my two story bedroom window resulted in a trip to the emergency room... There I came face to face with Terra. My first real friend.
Terra and I had seen each other before, many times before, since we attended the same elementary school. Like the other children, Terra had kept her distance from me. She was a part of the crowd. The one I long ago realized I could never be a part of. Sitting in the same waiting room with a broken ankle, broken wrist, and a broken arm somehow broke the ice as well. We were fast friends, and the rest is history.
After her, others followed. Before long I found myself still isolated to a certain degree, but no longer completely alone. Through the end of grade school and those two years of junior high, I passed the time with other girls. Over time, the names and faces run and blend together. Like water colors on a wet canvas. All the people in my memory look the same. They were friends of the fair weather sort. Each time my life took a new direction, they ran in the opposite one.
Terra was loyal to me. No matter how awful I was to her. With regret, I recall several tantrums. I wish I could count on one hand the times I took out my frustrations on Terra. She was docile and fragile, even as a teenager. She she stood there passively. Absorbing every blow. Every hurtful word, and the occasional physical abuse. While no one else could see her pain, I could feel it. The fragments of her hurt cut deep into my soul. To harm her, was to harm myself. My punishment, and sick pleasure. In my mind I could see sometimes she ran home, slammed her bedroom door, and cried about the things I said to her. And yet things never changed. Even after years of my thoughtlessness, she showed only patience towards me. Though that isn't to say she reaped no benefits from me. Through out junior high school, the insecurities within the cliques often disadvantaged Terra. Fair skinned, petite, and attractive over all, other girls often envied my best friend. The female population excluded her, while the male population used her. The cruelty of both sides sliced emotional wounds into Terra. Wounds that stung me. I suddenly became Terra's protector. I vowed never to let anyone hurt her, any worse than I had only years ago. Come freshman year I was powerless to protect my friend any longer.
A generous uncle of Terra's frowned upon the “evils” of public education. Years in advance they'd discussed the possibilities of transfer. Terra' mother was also unhappy with the district, but felt it best she finish junior high in the same environment it began. But come highschool, Terra and I would be attending different schools.