I don't remember the entirety of this day. I just remember, sitting at home, in the dark of my enclosed bedroom.
At midnight, my phone rang.
Wait, no it didn't. I didn't have one. I had an iPod. And that buzzed from the dresser beside me.
I picked it up, reading the message from Jess.
"We've set it all up. It's gonna be hilarious. I'll tell you how it goes ;)"
I smiled, having heard about Jess and May Belle's April Fools Day prank plans on their parents and maybe even Brenda and Ellie as well.
They'd switched the clocks ahead around three hours or so. And Mary Aarons had woken up when her clock said eight o something. Jess told me how she stood in front of the back door, which lead to the small balcony, staring out into the sky, wondering how it could possibly be eight already. In reality, it was only five.
The morning hassle, he explained, wasn't much of a hassle. Him and May Belle had spent the first few minutes examining their parents, who showed no sign of misdemeanor.
After a while, they had to figure out why they were walking by the wrongly set clocks with casualty. And eventually they told them that they'd figured it out at five, not eight, in the morning when Jack had thought he was late for work.
Jess told me all this as we walked down and deep into the woods, nearing our old treehouse, Terabithia, and the land owned by Mr. Boone, who'd died half a month ago, passing the land claims down to our families.
We talked much about Mr. Boone, April fools and the regularity of everyday life; the Grace problem, the end of the school year, the 7th grade bullies and the fight behind the gym, all of it.
After a while, we'd made our way back to the place we'd always split and go in opposite directions. I whispered "goodbye" and ran off inside, without turning back this time.
I spent most of the rest of the day hanging around, texting my friends (mostly Grace), playing with Jimmy and helping around the house.
It was just an ordinary day.
An ordinary day I had no idea was so close to the end of an era.
YOU ARE READING
365 Days
PoetryOne year ago, this story began. Or rather, ended. Everything I'd known for years self destructed and left behind a tragic mess I'd never seen before. Adaptation was iffy, loneliness was temporary, silence was unbearable. This isn't the first 12 year...
