The Art of Getting By
November 7th, 2010
November 7th, 2010
No school again today, but a ten hour shift at the lounge, because Bernadette called in sick. I’m entirely exhausted and too far behind on my homework, but I can’t get my mind to sit still. My car broke down on the way to work today, and as I was walking my way up the big hill, a truck pulled over. It was Arlow, the new kid. He offered me a ride and I really didn’t want to take it, but I needed to be to work before the sun went back down. The ride was silent and awkward, mumbling small talk back and forth. The world has grown so cold. It seems as if no one cares about anything anymore. Getting to know someone has become too awkward and mechanical. If we aren’t blogging it, updating it, tweeting it, no one pays attention. The question “How are you?” has become a greeting instead of genuine conversation. I keep thinking maybe someday, it’ll be different. But for now I guess never getting to really know anyone will have to suffice.
I have Winter and Baby, and they are all I need. They came into the diner today and we got to sit and talk on my break. They’re my best friends, but sometimes I feel so distant from them. Baby went on and on about Arlow, saying how attractive he was, and all I could think is you don’t know him, how can someone be so attractive to you when you don’t know their character, their heart. But I guess everyone is at a different place in their lives. I just keep wishing for the day when I’m done with this town and can get away. I want to move away, start over. No one will know where I came from. I won’t have to hide my story, where I’m from, where I love, who I am. No one will need to know because I can rewrite my story when I’m away from this town. Anyways, my last break is almost over, back to work.
I remain today,
Emi Raleigh
When my shift ended, Arlow was sitting out front. I walked past, he got out of his truck and came and stood in front of me.
“Let me give you a ride home.” He said. He looked into my eyes and for one split second it felt like he cared. I let him take me home, planning to get dropped off in front of my grandparent’s house, so he didn’t have to see the shack I called home. But instead, he kept driving, right past my long lonely driveway.
“Is this the part where you take me into the woods and kill me?”
“I know where you live. I just wanted to show you something.” He smirked a little, never taking his eyes off the road. “Besides, do you really want to go home and watch your dad drink?” I gasped a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.”
Confused, I stared up at the darkening sky. My first thought was that Baby must have told him about me. I love her to death, but she’s really good at sharing secrets that don’t belong to her. Arlow drove to the end of the road, taking the turn that led to the short cut onto the West Highway.
“Where are we going?” I turned and faced him, but he just remained silent. Sighing, I closed my eyes.
The rumble of his engine stopped, and startled me awake. Somewhere along the line, I had fallen asleep.
“You sleep a lot, don’t you?” He laughed quietly and got out of his truck, making his way to my side so he could open the door for me. Looking around to see where we were, my heart dropped. We were at the cemetery where my mom was buried.
“Why did you bring me here?” Shock resonated in my voice; I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes. I hadn’t been here in three years.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Suddenly, Arlow’s eyes grew serious.
“Remember you from what?”
“My sister is buried here. I used to come out here every day, and I would see you, sitting over by your mother’s grave. You were eight when we met; I thought for sure you would remember me.”
All at once, images danced inside my mind. The quiet boy that was always there, talking to him, playing tag, dodging all around the headstones, laughing, crying.
“That was you?”
“That was me. I remember the day they took your brother. It was the first day I didn’t come by. When I got back the next day, you yelled at me.”
“I remember now.” My voice was soft, laden with tears. I hated crying in front of people. “I need to go home, please.” I shook my head and turned around, opening the door to his pick-up.
“Emi, wait.”
“Please, Arlow, just take me back to my house.” He looked defeated as he climbed into the cab of his truck, the ride back to my place quiet, loneliness echoing in the silence. When we pulled up in front of my house, I could see my dad peering out of the blinds.
“Thanks for the ride.” I muttered, sliding out onto the gravel.
“Let me give you a ride tomorrow.”
“I don’t work.” The lie slipped out so easily, even I believed it.
“Sorry, if I did the right thing.” I stared at him for one more second, before turning to go home.
November 7th, 2010
Why can’t anything ever go smoothly? Why can’t just one day come and go without anything to catch me off guard. After work, Arlow was waiting to bring me home. I shouldn’t have let him. Instead of dropping me off at my house, he took me to the graveyard that my mom rests in. That’s when he told me he knew me. He was my first friend after my mom died. I remember him. Talking to him for hours on end about things that were far beyond our ears. Playing tag with him, laughing with him, crying with him. I wish I hadn’t remembered. Because with the memories of him came the memories of losing my mom and brother back to back. I stopped going to the cemetery when I was ten. That’s when my dad had his heart attack. I thought that maybe spending too much time there, surrounded by death, made it follow me home. The last time I saw Arlow was the day after his heart attack. I confessed to him that my dad hadn’t put down his drink in the last two years, told him about the heart attack, told him the truth; that my mom hadn’t died in an accident, that she had purposefully driven off that cliff. He cried, not because I had told him that I wasn’t coming back, but because he said he was sorry my life was bad. He told me, “Don’t worry. I’ll see you again.” I hadn’t believed him back then, when it had happened. I forgot about him so easily that I forgot to not let it happen.
I remain today,
Emi Raleigh
No school again today, but a ten hour shift at the lounge, because Bernadette called in sick. I’m entirely exhausted and too far behind on my homework, but I can’t get my mind to sit still. My car broke down on the way to work today, and as I was walking my way up the big hill, a truck pulled over. It was Arlow, the new kid. He offered me a ride and I really didn’t want to take it, but I needed to be to work before the sun went back down. The ride was silent and awkward, mumbling small talk back and forth. The world has grown so cold. It seems as if no one cares about anything anymore. Getting to know someone has become too awkward and mechanical. If we aren’t blogging it, updating it, tweeting it, no one pays attention. The question “How are you?” has become a greeting instead of genuine conversation. I keep thinking maybe someday, it’ll be different. But for now I guess never getting to really know anyone will have to suffice.
I have Winter and Baby, and they are all I need. They came into the diner today and we got to sit and talk on my break. They’re my best friends, but sometimes I feel so distant from them. Baby went on and on about Arlow, saying how attractive he was, and all I could think is you don’t know him, how can someone be so attractive to you when you don’t know their character, their heart. But I guess everyone is at a different place in their lives. I just keep wishing for the day when I’m done with this town and can get away. I want to move away, start over. No one will know where I came from. I won’t have to hide my story, where I’m from, where I love, who I am. No one will need to know because I can rewrite my story when I’m away from this town. Anyways, my last break is almost over, back to work.
I remain today,
Emi Raleigh
When my shift ended, Arlow was sitting out front. I walked past, he got out of his truck and came and stood in front of me.
“Let me give you a ride home.” He said. He looked into my eyes and for one split second it felt like he cared. I let him take me home, planning to get dropped off in front of my grandparent’s house, so he didn’t have to see the shack I called home. But instead, he kept driving, right past my long lonely driveway.
“Is this the part where you take me into the woods and kill me?”
“I know where you live. I just wanted to show you something.” He smirked a little, never taking his eyes off the road. “Besides, do you really want to go home and watch your dad drink?” I gasped a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.”
Confused, I stared up at the darkening sky. My first thought was that Baby must have told him about me. I love her to death, but she’s really good at sharing secrets that don’t belong to her. Arlow drove to the end of the road, taking the turn that led to the short cut onto the West Highway.
“Where are we going?” I turned and faced him, but he just remained silent. Sighing, I closed my eyes.
The rumble of his engine stopped, and startled me awake. Somewhere along the line, I had fallen asleep.
“You sleep a lot, don’t you?” He laughed quietly and got out of his truck, making his way to my side so he could open the door for me. Looking around to see where we were, my heart dropped. We were at the cemetery where my mom was buried.
“Why did you bring me here?” Shock resonated in my voice; I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes. I hadn’t been here in three years.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Suddenly, Arlow’s eyes grew serious.
“Remember you from what?”
“My sister is buried here. I used to come out here every day, and I would see you, sitting over by your mother’s grave. You were eight when we met; I thought for sure you would remember me.”
All at once, images danced inside my mind. The quiet boy that was always there, talking to him, playing tag, dodging all around the headstones, laughing, crying.
“That was you?”
“That was me. I remember the day they took your brother. It was the first day I didn’t come by. When I got back the next day, you yelled at me.”
“I remember now.” My voice was soft, laden with tears. I hated crying in front of people. “I need to go home, please.” I shook my head and turned around, opening the door to his pick-up.
“Emi, wait.”
“Please, Arlow, just take me back to my house.” He looked defeated as he climbed into the cab of his truck, the ride back to my place quiet, loneliness echoing in the silence. When we pulled up in front of my house, I could see my dad peering out of the blinds.
“Thanks for the ride.” I muttered, sliding out onto the gravel.
“Let me give you a ride tomorrow.”
“I don’t work.” The lie slipped out so easily, even I believed it.
“Sorry, if I did the right thing.” I stared at him for one more second, before turning to go home.
November 7th, 2010
Why can’t anything ever go smoothly? Why can’t just one day come and go without anything to catch me off guard. After work, Arlow was waiting to bring me home. I shouldn’t have let him. Instead of dropping me off at my house, he took me to the graveyard that my mom rests in. That’s when he told me he knew me. He was my first friend after my mom died. I remember him. Talking to him for hours on end about things that were far beyond our ears. Playing tag with him, laughing with him, crying with him. I wish I hadn’t remembered. Because with the memories of him came the memories of losing my mom and brother back to back. I stopped going to the cemetery when I was ten. That’s when my dad had his heart attack. I thought that maybe spending too much time there, surrounded by death, made it follow me home. The last time I saw Arlow was the day after his heart attack. I confessed to him that my dad hadn’t put down his drink in the last two years, told him about the heart attack, told him the truth; that my mom hadn’t died in an accident, that she had purposefully driven off that cliff. He cried, not because I had told him that I wasn’t coming back, but because he said he was sorry my life was bad. He told me, “Don’t worry. I’ll see you again.” I hadn’t believed him back then, when it had happened. I forgot about him so easily that I forgot to not let it happen.
I remain today,
Emi Raleigh