Football Fields

Tw- Suicide, Suicidal thoughts

Dear Calliope,

I’ve always had a pretty uneventful life, my entire childhood was completely ordinary. I was an only child, I had a dog named Bailey, and I always got A's. I graduated with a 3.9 GPA and went to one of the best colleges in my state, Idaho State. I graduated with a business degree.

I started working with a banking company. I check payments and make sure they’re secure. It's small but it pays the bills. I see potential waiting to blossom, I can and will rise the ranks.

I have worked in this job for three years and had only 5 times where the person has been hacked or something. I know it's horrible but sometimes I wish it happened more often. At least then something interesting could happen. You always made things interesting.

As of today, I have called one person. That one person being some random grandparents whose grandson made the payment. It has been two hours of hearing “Mary! Did you order a 200 dollar Skateboard?” “No. William, why?” “Mary, did you say no?” “Yes, William.” “She said no.” forty-five minutes and teaching an 80-year-old how to use a cell phone and home phone at the same time, we had our answer! Their 14-year-old grandson had used the wrong amazon account. But of course, you don't care, let me tell you why I’m actually writing this all to you.

After getting off the phone with Mary and William (Who were very nice.) I decided to check my email, something I don’t do very often. I opened two new tabs, one for music and one for my email. I braced myself as I opened Gmail, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. 786 was a few too many emails, but I could prevail. I turned up my favorite tunes and got to work...

1 spam, 2 spam, 3 spam, 400 spam, 500 spam, 600 spam, 781 spam later. I was down to 5 emails, only 5 real emails. Not spam. These emails were from real people, the very thought made me squirm. I hated thinking people relied on me or even knew I existed, I was a “popular kid” in high school. People swarmed towards me, asked what outfit I liked best and all that jazz. I went to parties and said I was having fun. In reality, I wanted to go home and read a nice book with a cup of coffee. 

I wanted to be me, the real me, the quiet and introverted me. I guess now in my adult life, all I want is the me I hide for so long. Only one person from high school truly knows the real me, I want to keep it that way. But of course, you already knew all that.

I drew a shaky breath and opened the first email. It's a birthday email from my parents. “Happy birthday Alex, We can’t wait to see you this Saturday!” My birthday was yesterday, Sunday. Which means I have about one week until Saturday. Saturday was my 10th-year high school reunion. I was planning on going if work wasn’t too hectic. I opened the second email, confirming my going to the reunion. I said yes. I clicked the third, my mother asking if I needed anything coming home. I replied no. The fourth asked if I would be bringing any guests to the reunion. I wasn’t sure, so I opened the fifth. 

Dear Alex,

                          I don’t know if you remember me, I sure don’t. I had to try though. I found your email on our school's contact page. A week ago I received an email about our high school reunion. Will you be going? I will be. I’ve thought about you a lot since that email. I never understood why you pulled away from me, maybe I'll find out Saturday. Happy Birthday, and I hope to see you there.

                                                                                      Love,

                                                                                              Calliope

Calliope- the muse of song, dance, and a beautiful voice. It fits you perfectly. After 10 minutes of sitting and contemplating, I decided to respond. “Calliope, I will be attending the reunion. Thank you for your email. I responded as quickly as my job would allow. Have a nice day. -Alex” I almost added love but decided against it.

I closed my email and looked at my list. Six more people to call. Possibly six more hours until I can truly think. Six more days until my hell may come awakening. 

                                                       ***

Today is Friday. I was on a flight back to my hometown. It would take roughly 1 and a half hours to reach my destination. I was jittery the entire time. By the time we touched down my fingernails were as short as could be.

 I took out my phone and ordered an Uber, I met it outside the airport 10 minutes later. While on the way to my parent's home I opened my email. I reread the email I sent to you. It was too formal, I could almost see you laughing at it. The thought made me smile.

My parents were there to open the door when I got to their house. I loved this house, it's a baby blue, suburban two-story, with white trim. Their white Toyota sat in the 30-foot long gravel driveway that I walked every day to get to school. My mother had black hair speckled with grey that matched her blue eyes perfectly. Today she wore a yellow summer dress with tan flats. My father looked as if he had been in the garage with his oil-stained khakis and red plaid shirt. He too had black hair, the grey was just more prominent. He had brown eyes that I had inherited.

They insisted that I eat and tell them all about my job. After a lot of laughter, tears, and good memories shared I went upstairs to my old room. It was as I remembered it. Dark red walls, a window pointing out into the front yard, a twin bed under the window, with a boy band poster next to it. I chuckled to myself, I hadn’t listened to that band in ages. The room is small and cozy. 

I pull out my phone and check the time, 6:30 p.m. I turned off my phone and looked at my reflection. I had short black hair, brown eyes, and glasses. Today I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt. I decided to take a picture and post it on Twitter. I put the hashtag #SummervilleHighSchoolReunion and posted. I set my phone on my bed, only to have it ding a second later. @CalliopeMakris has liked your post.

The reunion is at 7:00 p.m. I woke up at 11:00 a.m and drove to Starbucks to grab a coffee. I took my parent’s car. I picked up a coffee and two donuts for my parents. When I got home it was 12:00 and my parents were already up. I dropped the donuts on our kitchen table and suggested we all go for lunch in a few hours. They smiled and said okay. I went upstairs and got dressed.

After getting dressed I sat on my phone for a while. When it hit 2:00 I went downstairs and suggested we go to Marty’s (My favorite childhood restaurant.) They agreed and we headed off. When we got there I ordered a BLT with cheese. My parents got soup. We sat and ate, and on the way out we ran into an old friend.

“Sarah!” I exclaimed.

“Alex?” Sarah gasped “Are you in town for your reunion? I heard that was going on.”

“Yes. Oh! I haven’t seen you in years!”

   “I saw Clemintine at the store the other day, she said you would be coming.”

At that moment my mother and father walked out of the restaurant.

“Sarah, nice to see you again.” My father said politely.

“Jim, always a pleasure.”

“We should be going, but I'll see you at church tomorrow. Maybe you can even babysit Alex again!” My mother beamed.

“Mom.”

“Of course Clemintine! Have a nice day.” Sarah chuckled.

The entire conversation felt like more filler about my life. It's as if I could disappear and the only people to remember me would be another small American town.

We walked back to the car and I drove us home. When we got home it was 3:00. We watched TV until 4:00, and I worked with dad in the garage until 5:00.

At 6:00 we ate homemade spaghetti (Made by my mom.) and then I started to get ready. 

I went upstairs to get into the best outfit I had. A pair of jeans and a white long sleeve shirt. I thought I looked pretty good.

When I got to the high school I was not surprised to see the popular kids regrouping by the gym doors. I thought I should go over there but decided to walk past them. I pushed open the doors and looked around. Standing next to the punch bowl was the person I wanted to see most and least. You. I looked across the room and studied you. You were wearing a short blue dress with a white belt, brown sandals, and your brown hair was up today. You looked happy but concerned like you were waiting for someone. I realized with a jolt that you were probably waiting for me.

I looked down suddenly feeling underdressed. I decided to finally own up to it and walked over to you. 

“Calliope?” 

You turned around lightning fast. “A-Alex?”

I nodded.

You dipped her head towards the exit. 

I nodded.

Once we were out of the gym you grabbed my shoulder and made me look at you. I stared right into your beautiful hazel eyes.

“Why, and don’t play dumb.”

“I was scared.”

“Of?”

I shrugged.

“Of,” you said forcefully this time.

“I'll be honest. I was scared of people finding out about us.”

You looked hurt at that moment. “Why.”

“I didn’t want my friends to look at me differently.”

You exploded. “FRIENDS! FRIENDS! You had no real friends! You hid and ran and were a coward! You left me in the halls that day! With that stupid shirt! You didn’t look my way after that… Everything hurt… I went to that place after I tried-” Your voice faltered. “I asked you to write, and you laughed.”

I didn’t know what to say. “ I didn’t think the shirts were stupid..” I mumbled.

“They said *I’m with my girlfriend* with an arrow pointing to each other. How is that not stupid?”

“They were cute.”

“Why didn’t you wear yours then?”

You stared at me, I stared at you.

“I’m sorry, I should have written.”

You stared at me.

“How long were you in that place?”

You looked down. “I got out a month before we graduated. I was homeschooled until graduation. I got my diploma and then attempted again when I was nineteen, I got out again when I was 22.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m happy to see you again.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

You smiled. “Sure.”

10 minutes and two free donuts later we sat down on the football field. 

“So…” I mumbled.

“So..” You mumbled.

“Let's just sit together for a while.” I reached for your hand and squeezed.

You squeezed back. “This reminds me of all the nights we used to spend together.”

“All the secrets we shared.” 

“I knew you better than I did myself.” You said

“Me too,” I responded.

          I looked up at the starry sky. The hours passed like minutes until my phone dinged with a text from my mother. Will you be home late? If so I’m going to sleep, your flights tomorrow sleep well. Love you.  

“I have to go…”

You looked sad but nodded.

I got up to leave, letting my handhold onto yours until it couldn’t. I turned around.

“I love you.”

You didn’t respond.

I’ve always loved to journal. I guess that's what I’m doing now. When I got home that night I slipped out of my pants and noticed a piece of paper fluttering to the floor. You must have slipped it in there. The paper contained your phone number (Maybe) and two words. Call Tomorrow, and I did. I expected your voice to answer but instead, a heart-stuck woman did. She said she was your mother. You had been found dead in your childhood bed this morning. She asked if this was Alex. I said yes. 

You had left a note for me, the only one they found.

Dear Alex,

                          I love you.

                                           -Calliope

I’m writing all this thirty minutes before my flight, on the football field. I like to think it's our spot. I’m leaving this right here for only us to see. I’ll see you another time.

            Love,

                                                                                         Alex