Lessons of Indifference

chapter four

I am standing in Gran's garden. The air is chilling, but the sun is shining kind of a dull light. My bare feet sting in the wet grass. I look to my right to see Gran sitting in a lawn chair, her feet up on the garbage can, which is leaning on it's side. She sips a cold beverage and looks peaceful. This is what we did months before my mother and sister's deaths. I look around the yard to see if they are there as well. Sure enough, Angelina is lying on her stomach in a swimsuit, reading a magazine. My mother is standing by the back door on the deck. She wears her pink frilly apron. The one she wears when she cooks in the summer. Her face smiles, beckoning for Angelina to come and see what she holds in her hand. I am curious as well to see what she is smiling and laughing at. My twin sister stands and I follow her to the kitchen door where my mother is. No one has spoken, and it continues to be that way. I see what my mother is holding in her hand. A kitten, small, weak, and gray with white spots. She looks like Bitsy. But it couldn't be. Bitsy has been alive ever since I can remember. "Where's Bitsy?" I try to speak, but no words come out, just a type of whine. Suddenly, the kitten jumps out of my mother's hand and onto Angelina's face. She doesn't scream, or yell, she just stands there as the cat grows bigger on her, and bites her face. I scream. No noise comes out, but I lunge forward at the hissing cat. My sister's horrified face turns soft, and she takes a deep breath and disappears. I scream "Angelina!" This time my words are heard. The cat jumps, still growing bigger and bigger, this time on my mother. My mother's horrified face is silent, her eyes filled with fear. I scream "Mom!" just as her face fades, and she disappears.

"Look out, Gran!" I yell as the cat, now almost to my waist, creeps slowly towards her lawn chair.

"Don't worry, Sweetums," Gran says. "She just wants you to feel her pain." Those words echo deep inside me. Now, the cat turns towards me and leaps, hissing and shrieking, somewhat like a siren. I scream and thrash my arms at the cat, but it disappears, just as my mother and sister did.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm shrieking at me indignantly. I am screaming and sweating horribly. I hyperventilate violently before realizing it is just a dream. It's just a dream, I tell myself. I slam my hand down on the alarm, turning it off. My breath is still uneven as I throw my feet over the side of the bed. My hands shake wildly, restricing me from putting my clothes on with ease. My first day of school is not the first day for everyone else, so there is no way I will not stand out. I wear a red and white sweater and my faded jeans, rolled up a few times at the bottom. I do not expect to have an image to uphold, but I do not want to look homeless either. I zip up my brown combat boots and make my way to the bathroom to clean up. When I am finished, my father knocks on the door and asks me if everything is ok. "I heard you this morning. Is everything alright?" He asks through the door. "Yes," I say plainly. I dry my hands and open the door. My father looks buisness. He wears a black suit and tie, and his hair is combed. He holds a black breifcase in his hand, and the other hand has a large silver watch on it. I have to admit, he looks nice.

We go downstairs and eat cereal for breakfast quickly. My backpack is already packed from last night. I eat standing up, and we don't speak. This is how I used to have breakfast with my mother and sister. We could eat silently, only the sound of our spoons on the bottoms of our bowls, but we would feel connected, catching each other's smiles every so often. It wasn't the same with Gran. She would sing while we ate, or recite poems from her high school. It was still alright, but the difference was astounding.

"Are you finished?" My father asks after a few minutes. I snap out of my daydream. I have been staring at my empty bowl for a long time now. I nod. He takes my bowl and washes it, and I watch him. My heart is completely empty, and I realize that it is so every time I think of their faces.

I follow my father to his ugly pickup truck. Just as I did on the way here, I stare out the window and hope he doesn't try to strike up a conversation. He doesn't. I am glad he knows my boundaries. I wonder if he thinks I don't like him. But that's not it. I wonder if he knows my fears, or he just thinks that I am a horrible person. It doesn't take more than five minutes to get to the high school. The whole car ride, I stare out the window at California's natural beauty. Coronado is a stunning peninsula. The sun is already high in the sky as we pull into the parking lot ten minutes before the bell will ring. "Do you want me to come in?" He asks me. I shake my head. "I can figure it out." I get out of the truck and swing my backpack on my back, taking note of the way the teenagers act differently from Phoenix. There is a group of burly-looking boys and skinny girls near the door. I recognize them immediately as the cheer squad and football team. There are a few other groups there, isolating themselves from the rest of the students. So this school is clique prone... I shake off my worries and walk straight past everyone and into the school. Nothing is different on the inside. Two girls gossip near their lockers, a few boys dare each other. A boy and a girl are violently kissing each other in the doorway of a classroom. I make a face and keep walking. I look for the front desk... Or principle's office. I can't find either.