Birdie
Day Eighteen
My parents have taken my vow of silence as a personal attack, as if every word I don’t speak somehow correlates to how much I love them. They don’t understand that this, my voice or lack of, has nothing to do with them, it is about me and all that I failed to say.
I am reminded of how annoyed my parents are with me as I wait in the parking lot on the small seat, that was built in the name of some kid who was killed, for my dad to pick me up. A month ago I never worried about relying on my parents for rides having gotten my license earlier in the year. But everything is different now, and I can no longer focus on the road. There are only a few kids left at school, most of them years younger than me and waiting for their bus or like me their parents. Then there are the detention kids, who are either skipping or slowly making their way to the designated class room on the other side of the school that smells like feet.
It is 3.15 and I think maybe my dad has forgotten about me again, he forgets about me a lot these days. He is on leave from work and spends his days watching TV, waiting for his daughter to walk through the door. He is always disappointed when I am the only one that he can see. He doesn’t have to tell me he is disappointed. I can see how ever so slightly his shoulders sag and his facial features drop.
Normally I am one of those detention kids making their way to the smelly classroom, but today is Tuesday and I don’t have the monster today. Whenever I have Math I always end up with a pink slip and a glare from my teacher who thinks if she yells at me enough I might speak. She doesn’t understand how deep my sadness runs if she thinks it is that easy.
There is a piece of gum stuck on the seat next to me and it is pink and it reminds me of my sister. She always chewed pink gum. I want to reach over and touch the gum to see if it feels like her but I don’t. Because it looks fresh and it has been twenty six days since Allison chewed gum.
I close my eyes because I am tired, I never sleep anymore. I am stuck awake alone in my bedroom listening for the sounds of someone else. Allison and I shared a room for our entire lives and now that she is gone I can’t sleep without the sound of her heavy breathing. It’s funny how I miss that strangest things about her, like her gum or how she always skipped when she was happy.
I don’t realise someone is sitting beside me until they clear their throat. I open my eyes and turn to stare at the boy from my Math class, the one that called me a bird. Self-consciously I pull my arms around my mind section trying to disappear into the tiny space on the seat I occupy. I want him to walk away and leave me to remember how my sister always smelt like lemons because she decided at the age of thirteen she needed a signature scent.
As I stare at Eli I realise he is holding a large white object, he hands it to me when he notices me staring. I stare down without taking the large whiteboard waiting for Eli to explain, “I got you this, sort of as a peace offering,” He murmurs, lightly under his breathe. Up close I can smell all the cigarettes he has ever smoked and it reminds me of Allison and the boys she kissed who smelt this way.
After another thirty seconds I take the whiteboard, mostly because Eli is still holding it out to me. Attached by a string is a pink white board marker, I stare at the object and wait for Eli to tell me it is because he feels sorry for me.
“This way when I ask for help in math you won’t be able to ignore me,” My eyes flicker from the whiteboard to the strange boy and I can’t help but feel confused. I shake off the feeling and replace it with the knowledge that he knows who I am and he like everyone else in this stupid town feels sorry for me.
“You waiting for someone?” I am not sure if he expects me to reply but I don’t. Instead I nod my head offering the small thanks I can muster. “I’m supposed to be in detention but I thought maybe I’d catch you before you left and give you this,” I turn my gaze to stare out at the cars waiting for the familiar one that will pull me away from this boy who smells so much like the boys my sister loved it hurts my heart.
“This whole not speaking thing,” Eli says, staring at the cars with me. He is sitting close to me to avoid that piece of gum and I wonder if it wasn’t there how far away he would sit. A comfortable distance, further away than necessary or close enough like this so I can smell him. “You’re really not talking are you?”
A part of me wants to walk away and leave Eli here with his stupid whiteboard and personal questions. The other part wants to tell him so he will tell everyone else that I am not pretending, I have actually given up speaking. I want him to spread the word and I want it to get back to my parents so they understand this has nothing to do with how much I love them. This has to do with Allison and how words are meaningless.
I don't look at him but I nod my head ever so slightly hoping he understands, Eli nods slowly fiddling with a lighter in his fingers. I want to tell him to go to detention that I am fine to sit here by myself but I don’t speak and I don’t want to write on this board. I don’t even want to accept it but I do. I hold it in my fingers so tight they are sweating and I don’t think anyone could ever pry it off me.
Three minutes later my dad shows up, he is watching me with a straight face and the beard I am still not used to seeing. He has been growing it for the past month because I don’t think he can be bothered to shave anymore. I hear my mother yelling at him late at night, when they think I am asleep, to shave it because it is awful. But every morning it is still there a reminder of how much has changed in the past month.
I am about to stand and walk away from Eli when something stops me. I pause and quickly uncap the lid on the pink pen I wish was any other colour and write one word. Somehow it says everything I am thinking and even though I know Eli doesn’t understand he still smiles like he has won the lottery when he sees me write it.
'Bye’
“Bye Birdie,” he mutters, still wearing that grin, I think if I was a different person I would have smiled back at him. But I am me and I am broken...
And I think I have forgotten how to smile.
I am reminded of how annoyed my parents are with me as I wait in the parking lot on the small seat, that was built in the name of some kid who was killed, for my dad to pick me up. A month ago I never worried about relying on my parents for rides having gotten my license earlier in the year. But everything is different now, and I can no longer focus on the road. There are only a few kids left at school, most of them years younger than me and waiting for their bus or like me their parents. Then there are the detention kids, who are either skipping or slowly making their way to the designated class room on the other side of the school that smells like feet.
It is 3.15 and I think maybe my dad has forgotten about me again, he forgets about me a lot these days. He is on leave from work and spends his days watching TV, waiting for his daughter to walk through the door. He is always disappointed when I am the only one that he can see. He doesn’t have to tell me he is disappointed. I can see how ever so slightly his shoulders sag and his facial features drop.
Normally I am one of those detention kids making their way to the smelly classroom, but today is Tuesday and I don’t have the monster today. Whenever I have Math I always end up with a pink slip and a glare from my teacher who thinks if she yells at me enough I might speak. She doesn’t understand how deep my sadness runs if she thinks it is that easy.
There is a piece of gum stuck on the seat next to me and it is pink and it reminds me of my sister. She always chewed pink gum. I want to reach over and touch the gum to see if it feels like her but I don’t. Because it looks fresh and it has been twenty six days since Allison chewed gum.
I close my eyes because I am tired, I never sleep anymore. I am stuck awake alone in my bedroom listening for the sounds of someone else. Allison and I shared a room for our entire lives and now that she is gone I can’t sleep without the sound of her heavy breathing. It’s funny how I miss that strangest things about her, like her gum or how she always skipped when she was happy.
I don’t realise someone is sitting beside me until they clear their throat. I open my eyes and turn to stare at the boy from my Math class, the one that called me a bird. Self-consciously I pull my arms around my mind section trying to disappear into the tiny space on the seat I occupy. I want him to walk away and leave me to remember how my sister always smelt like lemons because she decided at the age of thirteen she needed a signature scent.
As I stare at Eli I realise he is holding a large white object, he hands it to me when he notices me staring. I stare down without taking the large whiteboard waiting for Eli to explain, “I got you this, sort of as a peace offering,” He murmurs, lightly under his breathe. Up close I can smell all the cigarettes he has ever smoked and it reminds me of Allison and the boys she kissed who smelt this way.
After another thirty seconds I take the whiteboard, mostly because Eli is still holding it out to me. Attached by a string is a pink white board marker, I stare at the object and wait for Eli to tell me it is because he feels sorry for me.
“This way when I ask for help in math you won’t be able to ignore me,” My eyes flicker from the whiteboard to the strange boy and I can’t help but feel confused. I shake off the feeling and replace it with the knowledge that he knows who I am and he like everyone else in this stupid town feels sorry for me.
“You waiting for someone?” I am not sure if he expects me to reply but I don’t. Instead I nod my head offering the small thanks I can muster. “I’m supposed to be in detention but I thought maybe I’d catch you before you left and give you this,” I turn my gaze to stare out at the cars waiting for the familiar one that will pull me away from this boy who smells so much like the boys my sister loved it hurts my heart.
“This whole not speaking thing,” Eli says, staring at the cars with me. He is sitting close to me to avoid that piece of gum and I wonder if it wasn’t there how far away he would sit. A comfortable distance, further away than necessary or close enough like this so I can smell him. “You’re really not talking are you?”
A part of me wants to walk away and leave Eli here with his stupid whiteboard and personal questions. The other part wants to tell him so he will tell everyone else that I am not pretending, I have actually given up speaking. I want him to spread the word and I want it to get back to my parents so they understand this has nothing to do with how much I love them. This has to do with Allison and how words are meaningless.
I don't look at him but I nod my head ever so slightly hoping he understands, Eli nods slowly fiddling with a lighter in his fingers. I want to tell him to go to detention that I am fine to sit here by myself but I don’t speak and I don’t want to write on this board. I don’t even want to accept it but I do. I hold it in my fingers so tight they are sweating and I don’t think anyone could ever pry it off me.
Three minutes later my dad shows up, he is watching me with a straight face and the beard I am still not used to seeing. He has been growing it for the past month because I don’t think he can be bothered to shave anymore. I hear my mother yelling at him late at night, when they think I am asleep, to shave it because it is awful. But every morning it is still there a reminder of how much has changed in the past month.
I am about to stand and walk away from Eli when something stops me. I pause and quickly uncap the lid on the pink pen I wish was any other colour and write one word. Somehow it says everything I am thinking and even though I know Eli doesn’t understand he still smiles like he has won the lottery when he sees me write it.
'Bye’
“Bye Birdie,” he mutters, still wearing that grin, I think if I was a different person I would have smiled back at him. But I am me and I am broken...
And I think I have forgotten how to smile.