An Act to Remember

Act 1: Sc. 2 Part 1

The Ripping

          I woke up to the beeps of monitors and heavy, panicked footsteps. Oh no, this is it. I am dying. No, I can’t die… I’ve never been kissed, or been on a real date, or experienced the thrill of winning a hotdog eating contest.

I moaned and groaned until I received the attention of the person that watched over me, just to make sure they would be there to revive me if I flat lined.

“Uuugh.” I moaned.

“Oh, can it Sweet pea, you just got bonked on the head.” The familiar voice said entirely bemused. “You’ve been snoring so loudly I almost let Justin smother you with the pillow, just so you would have a reason to whine.”

One of my eyes flicked open, just as I had suspected, my mother. Don’t get any ideas of her being a bad parent. She truly is wonderful; her methods are just a little odd. She looked how she always has for the past 17 years I’ve been her spawn. Daddy said she was slender once, I never believed him. Her rounded body was always dressed in the height of fashion, and even with her back turned I knew she had her make-up painted on to perfection. “If it ain’t Mary Kay, there ain’t no way!” was practically her motto. I’ve only ever seen her without her ‘face on’ once. That was because Justin had set the kitchen on fire and she didn’t have time to hop out of the shower, put her robe on, and then meticulously apply her creams and powders to her face before the house bit the dust. Her children along with it, but if she felt like she had enough time to, trust me; she would’ve put it on.

As she began to turn around my eye flicked back shut. Even with my eyes closed I could see the smile that was on her circular face. My own crept onto my lips; her smile was always contagious.

“Here, I can imagine you are thirsty Ellenor.” She spoke softly, and handed me a paper cup full of iced water.

“Mom, I’ve told you, I hate that name.” I retorted with a child-like tone. She knew that already, but she loved to tease me incessantly.

“Sorry…Lenni.” She responded with a chuckle and an eye roll. “Come on, grab your things, Sweet Pea, it is time for us to go home.”

I started to pack when I remembered McHottie. “Momma, did some guy come by? Very attractive, about 6’1” with creamy dreamy brown eyes? He’s the one who kicked me in the face while attempting to retrieve my bag for me like a true gentleman!” I am pretty sure my voice fluctuation and speed went through the roof.

“Whoa, calm it Lenni, no guy came. How hard did you hit your head?” She walked over to the bed and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead. I pushed her away, less than gently.

“He’s real Momma! And he has my bag!” I started to contemplate what that meant. “My whole life is in that thing…”  My head shook and my body went slacked onto the bed. Completely unenergetic when I picked up my coat and the pamphlet entitled, “You, and Your New Bruise”, I placed it under one arm.

“Oh no. Not the bag. Sweet Pea I told you to never take that where anyone could see it, you could blind people and cause car accidents. What were you doing outside of the house anyways?” The anger in her voice rose and as I judged her stance, the chance of my survival slowly dwindled. I couldn’t think of any lies that would convince her.

“I was auditioning for a part in a play. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you would be upset with me and tell me I couldn’t. You always tell me you don’t want to see me fail again. I was born to act, I really was, and this was my chance!” I exclaimed and rose much too quickly, considering my wounded state.

My mother then grabbed me by the arm and started to pull me out of the hospital; she muttered and steamed the entire way. She had always hated to make scenes; so, if she was going to rip me a new one, she’d prefer it to be in a place where they wouldn’t be able to hear my screams or hers for that matter. There we went, down the hallways, into a maze of elevators, and finally out of the revolving doors of Sage View Clinic.

Our little town of Sage View was barely considered to be a town. We had one grocery store, which was also the town’s only gas station. We had a park –I think—once. Now we call it Hobo Junction. It’s right near Railway Station, which one day will take me out of this town, chugga-chugga-choo-ing me out to L.A. the city of my dreams. There I would make my millions and buy liposuction to remove my stubborn baby fat. Other than that I’ve made it my goal to be the first celebrity to age gracefully without any facial reconstruction surgeries. I want to be famous, but I still want to be 5’2”, auburn haired, blue eyed, freckled me. I have always been known for my doll-like looks. Big eyes, long eyelashes, pale complexion. Not to mention my rounded cheeks, full beautiful pink lips, and my love for anything vintage.

One day, weird, socially awkward, little me is going to be a star, and I’ll have a one-on-one will Ellen… After she practically begs me to be on her show. I’ll laugh and smile ‘Of course!’. Then she’ll ask me my secret for success, I will then slowly stand and make my way to the lead camera and say; “Hard work, determination, and the hope that one day I will be rich and famous while Kassidee Trenton would be a boring, old house wife who has 10 too many kids in her 2-bedroom, NO bath apartment. Who’s smelly NOW Kassidee?? Huh?! Who??” Oh dear, I have no life.

My incredibly lame daydream came to a standstill as my mother came to a screeched halt in the driveway of our humble abode. The cracked pavement was covered in the summer’s debris. The siding on the house was a faded cream, with dark blue trim and shutters and a bright red door. The old oak trees darkened the yard and the steps that led in. I watched as my mom unfastened her seatbelt, unlock the door, and slam it furiously behind her. Her body jiggled as she stomped into the house, I did the same as her, but more sluggish and less jiggling.

As I walked through the doors, I was welcomed by the smell of dinner on the stove and the sound of Justin, who was preoccupied with his violent RPG games in the living room.

“So, Ellenor, what did you do this time? Mom looks ticked.”

Justin was the kind of kid you would find spying on girls in the locker room in gym class. The kind of kid who LIKES to partake of the cinnamon challenge, ‘just cuz’.  The kind of kid who thinks he is hardcore but he can barely stand on his two feet. It isn’t his fault, it’s genetic.

“Shut up, dweeb. It’s none of your business.”

“It’s going to become a part of my business if Mom starts assigning extra chores for ‘looking at her funny’. Come on Lenni, I want to know.” He sounded like he actually mean it. Did he?

“I was auditioning for a main role in the district play, and I accidentally got knocked out.” By his roar of laughter it was manifested unto me that the answer to my question was a big, fat, hairy no.