Iris Callum never fit into the constructs of society. Since she was a little girl, she was always known as an outsider, whether that be in school, at home, or in daily life. Even though it never really bothered her that she was different from everyo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***Iris Callum***
Since I was a little girl, I knew that I was different. Compared to everyone else in the crap town I was an outsider, a black sheep.
It seemed most everyone in the town of Lowell, Vermont was nothing but a group of judgmental hicks, looking for anything out of the ordinary to prey on. This town was created by a long history of poor unfortunate souls with broken dreams. For decades it remained unchanging, with the same rolling hills and rivers, the same farming routines, the same last names walking amongst the broken picket fences.
This dull town was my home, at least that's what I had been calling it for as long as I could remember. Despite the luxuriant vegetation, the clear blue skies and the beautiful foliage that surrounded me daily, this place never felt like home. I loved and hated it at the same time.
Even when I was completely alone, only surrounded by the only mother I had ever known, I was still reminded that I didn't belong. Mother nature's extravagant beauty spread out amongst the green grass and the rolling hills were vibrant compared to my dark attire and pale skin. I was like a stain on a pretty painting.
Even so, I much rather be in isolation amongst the fields and mountains. At least the trees couldn't talk and ridicule me. Though I must admit that during those times I fall victim to my own mind.
I rather feel alone with my only company being the sounds of the animals far off in the distance than be in the presence of a million people that make me wish that I hadn't ever existed. The feeling is the worst when I'm with my family. That's why I go out here alone in the woods whenever I'm forced to go back to my so-called home. I felt impossibly unwanted.
That feeling has only grown since my stepmother and stepbrother came into the picture. My dad went from being a lonely drunk to an arrogant a**hole the moment that Veronica and Carson came into our lives. The fact of the matter than no one cared where I was or what I did as long as it didn't bother them in any way. Really, it's been like that for as long as I can remember.
The start of all of this was when my biological mother left me and my father when I was only an infant. I don't remember her or anything that happened before, but my dad told me that she left without warning, with no trace as to where she went. To this day I haven't received so much as a simple birthday card. It's as if she had forgotten me completely. Maybe she did.
I guess I had never been dealt very good cards to begin with.
The only person that had ever made me feel wanted was my childhood best friend Ginger. Much like me she was viewed as an outsider, a black sheep. We had similar interests, similar styles, similar backgrounds. We strayed from the normal constructs of this hick town.
We found each other in the early days of our freshman year of high school when she moved here from New Hampshire. I remember vividly not understanding why anyone in their right mind would willingly move to this small town but over lunch she had explained that her mother had found a good deal on a house up this way after her parents had gotten divorced. It seemed like hardship was the main component when it came to people moving anywhere in Orleans County.
That's why I wanted to get out of here so desperately. Despite the amazing landscapes this town held nothing of importance to me. Ever since I was little, I wanted to see the world. I knew there had to be more to life than what this town offered. There just had to be. Completing school just to work a dead-end job nine to five for the rest of my miserable years couldn't be what life was really about. I wanted to experience the world and all that it had to offer. I wanted to feel alive.
That was one thing that Ginger and I bonded over quickly. Even though we were so young we knew what we wanted. We wanted something more than what this life was giving us, and we knew that one day we would be able to fulfill that dream. One day we'd be able to travel the world.
Since that day in eighth grade at the cafeteria we have stuck together like glue. Talking about everything, from our favorite bands to our future dreams, to why everyone in this town seemed completely content on wasting their lives away.
Those around us laughed at us, taunted us, bullied us, but we didn't care anymore. We had both been dealing with it for years, but now we had each other to lean on. We didn't care what they had to say because we knew that at the end of the day, we would be the ones to make it out. We wouldn't be the ones who were caged by a white-picket fence.
"I just hope that day comes soon." I whispered to no one.
I crouched down, looking at a small wilting flower in the middle of a clearing in the forest. A cloud hovered overhead as I thought about how much I had in common with this small organism.
I feared that if something drastic didn't happen soon that my hope of making it out of here would surely crumble. As it was, I felt myself losing hope, losing purpose. With each passing day I felt a new ounce of dread as I thought about the lack of purpose that I currently had on this planet. I didn't belong here, but maybe I didn't belong anywhere.
I looked around at the entirety of the clearing. The wilting flower was lost amongst the beaming foliage that surrounded it. The small, decayed plant held virtually no impact on the importance of the bigger picture around it. All in all, it didn't exist.
A twisting feeling in my gut emerged at how this small scene in front of me could possibly be the answer to so many of my questions?
"How would I ever make a difference in the world? How could I ever leave my mark when hardly anyone knows I exist? What is my purpose? My words were whisked away by the wind, and yet again I was left without an answer. The only explanation that my brain was giving me left me with an empty void that felt all too like a bottomless pit of despair.
As I sat in the grass of the meadow, deep in thought, the sun quickly fell from the blue sky, and in no time at all the sky shifted to a Symphany of colors, before finally falling and leaving a darkened sky in its wake.
With a deep sigh I pushed myself up off the ground, dragging my feet along the scattered leaves on the forest floor, creating a loud rustling. I dreaded going back home. The last thing that I wanted to deal with was the non-stop sound of arguing and harassment. A part of me debated on just finding a nice spot to rest on for a bit, but as I thought about the time of night, and the array of wildlife in the area, I quickly thought against it.
But as I drew nearer to the large two-story grey house on the other side of the forest, overlooking Lowell Lake, I found myself thinking that hibernating with the bears now sounded like the preferred option.
