My Mind Can't Take Much More

It hit me right then and there that the time it took between going to and from this miniscule town to the next biggest town is more of a hassle than just moving to a bigger town. As much as I insist it though, the more my parents refuse. I really didn't have much say to where we lived though, I am a twenty-two year old that still lives with my father and brother.

Delavan, Minnesota is the small town I've been living in since I can remember. The population is currently standing at 179 people. I think the young people of this town is stuck somewhere between the 80's punk era and the 90's grunge era, mixed in with the classic small town people just trying to earn a living. That's what we were though, a small town. Everyone is just trying to fit in to the routine of everyday life. The teens always pretended to be angels to their parents, but really they all went drinking every Friday night at the Halloway's farm. Their son, Todd, always provided the alcohol.

I can say that I have a love and hate relationship with this town. Sometimes, I can't stand it. Other times, I never want to leave. The constant war that I had going on between my mixed emotions sometimes took a toll on my body and mind. There were days that I would just sit here in my worn-out, small bedroom and just stare. I would star into nothing, sometimes into time and space itself. I think my heart truly lies somewhere where the ocean meets the sky, where the stars walk along the land, and where the moon and the sun dance together to the beat of their heartbeats. I believe that these places exist, and that you can find them if you just use your imagination. For now though, my head is just drifting off somewhere in the space continuum, filled with the stories of my past lives.

My mother always told me that dreaming was unhealthy and that it could lead to realizing things that could harm you. She often repeated that dreams “lead to making up fairy tales and lies.” She passed away when I was seventeen, I still haven't found any truth to her theory. Dreams are my fairytale, and no one is too old for fairy tales.

My mother was an earnest, loving woman who worked hard to support us kids when our dad went away for a while. When I was six, she piled me and my younger brother into our small, hardwood living room and explained to us that our father was going to be going away for a while to help our country become better. I think it was the easiest way for her to explain it. Our dad was in the army. It was something that he felt passionate about. His great-grandfather fought in World War I, his Grandfather in World War II, his father in Vietnam, and now him. My dad always told us that us kids didn't have to follow in his footsteps if we didn't want to. It was all their choices to go into the service.

My dad was a very passionate man. He always told me to find something I was passionate about and stick with it. He always told my little brother, Evan, the same. My brother was just a month old when he left, but he was told anyway. Dad's bones were always tough compared the look of his face. My father's eyes were of the purest blue and that made his face look so pale compared to the lovely color of his irises. I always see him still to this day with his long, curly, vibrant blonde hair tied back into a ponytail near the nape of his neck with a black rubber band. I don't think he'll ever wear it any different. His hair was starting to turn to grey now that he's aged a bit, but I'll always remember him with the sandy blonde hair.

My mother, on the other hand, had the darkest eyes you could ever imagine. They looked like they were two black coals, but you could always tell that she was happy. She had dark brown hair that resembled chocolate waves running down her back. She always kept down, with the longest strands touching her waist. She had deep set eyes, and looked like she could have been an actress in the 1930's.

I remember she would always walk around the house, just cleaning. She liked to be cleanly. It's a habit I've picked up from her that I'm proud of.

Me, I was just Hazel Madison Alexander. You're average annoying young adult that needs to find her passion.

I smiled at the memory of her. I missed her, so much.

Soon enough, I was passing my uncle's farm in my beat up 1987 Oldsmobile 88. It wasn't anything special, just a car to get me to and from places. The only reason I have it was our neighbor, Mr. Brennan was selling it for a fair price. Plus, he liked me, so he knocked off a few hundred. He told me to take care of it, and I have.

I continued on driving down 190th St. until I hear my can engine thud and stutter. My check-engine light came on and I pulled over to the side of the road. I was six miles away from my uncle,who was never home, and fifteen miles away from Delavan. I opened up the hood and looked at the engine. It started to smoke a bit, the bad thing was, I didn't know anything about cars besides that gas makes it run, if your car doesn't start when it rains, you need new spark plus, and that the engine is important. Also, your standard, brake pedal, gas pedal, yada yada yada...

I closed the lid and I figured I better start walking. My phone was on the coffee table of our living room, most people didn't even know what a pay phone was, and I could use the exercise anyway. We actually have a pay phone. It's left over from the 90's. I'm surprised it still works, but it's all the way back in town.

My feet continued to carry my body down the road towards the tiny town of Delevan. The sky was just beginning to turn a soft purple, and the sun was beginning to go down. I liked this time of day, twilight, we called it. I loved sunrises, sunsets, and anything in between.

I looked behind me to see if there was any cars coming, I guess there wouldn't be. I was correct. The sun continued to set and I continued to travel down along my path to home. The sky now seemed to resemble the color of eggplants and the stars were continuing to show through the smooth skin of the vegetable. I soon hear what appeared to be a car. I didn't like asking people for rides, but despite my fear, I stuck out my left thumb towards the road. The car soon slowed to a halt beside me.

The words, “Need a ride?” never sounded so good. I looked through the rolled down window of a beat up pick-up truck and a pair of dark brown eyes met mine. Those eyes came from a man about my age, maybe a little older. He had short messy, chocolate brown hair, and a friendly smile on his face.

“Sure, as long as you promise not to rape me.” I was serious too.

“Now, why would I want to harm a pretty little thing like you? Besides, I would never hurt a fly,” the man said with another breath-taking smile.

“Well, I hope I can trust you. I usually don't accept rides from strangers,” I explained.

“Well, I'm just trying to be a good citizen.”

I looked back at him and finally pulled open the passenger side door. “So, you got a name?” he asked me.

“Hazel.” I replied bluntly.

“Ah, nice to meet you Hazel. I'm Johnny.” he said putting his hand out. I shook it, and then retreated my hand.

“Pleasure,” I said once my hand was back by my side.

“So, what were you doing walking down a road with almost nobody on it at a time like this?” I looked out the window towards the sky, the stars were really starting to show their colors now.

“My car broke down a few miles back. I left my phone on my coffee table.” I didn't even realize which direction he was going. I could tell by the contour of the road he was going towards Delavan.

“Ah, that would explain things,” he replied.

The rest of the car ride was extremely silent. It was almost so silent I could hear his heartbeat, and every breath he took. I looked over with my eyes toward his face. He looked to be at that awkward stage between looking really manly and still looking a little boyish. He was attractive though. Soon enough, he caught me starring.

“You ok?” he asked with a small chuckle.

“Yeah... I'm fine.” I could feel my cheeks become more red by the second. He just looked at me and smiled.

“I'm assuming you live in Delavan. Just give me directions to the house,” he said..

We soon took a series of turns to get to my house. He stopped outside and turned off the engine. I looked at him and said thank you. He replied with “You're welcome” and I got out. He soon yelled out the window as I was walking up on my porch.

“Hey! Maybe I'll see you around. I'll be in town for a while.”

“We'll see, Johnny,” I said with a smirk.

His expression met mine and he drove off down the road. I fumbled in my pocket for the keys to my house. Now it was time to go and get my dad, and get my car home.