Sticks and Stones

      They wanted me! I was in Ms. Jones’s office. She was my guidance counselor, and had been keeping close tabs on me ever since my dad left. I had pretended to do the whole grieving act, with the fake tears, anger, guilt, the whole deal. Yet she seemed to know that I was faking. The truth is I haven’t really had time to feel anything. Once he left, my mom fell apart. She stopped going to work, so we lost our house. We moved to a shitty apartment on Essex Street, and it became my responsibility to pay the bills. I lost all my friends except for Matt and Cody, who really had no aim in life. They just wanted to stay in Bangor for the rest of their life. 

                With me, however, I had been wanting to be a surgeon for as long as I can remember. It had seemed like just a naïve hope, something to get me through the day, until now. Ms. Jones had just told me the news that had been my last hope to get out of this pointless excuse for a life. UConn accepted my application! I could finally get out of this prison and go out into the real world, the ‘American Dream,’ as they call it. I’m not normally this excited. Usually, I spend my days counting down the hours until the sun sets, and I get to go to sleep, hoping I don’t wake up in the morning. The guilt of leaving for college is always weighing me down. Don’t get the wrong impression, I’m not guilty for leaving my mom in this ridiculous town, she did this to herself. No, I’m guilty for leaving my brother, John. We have been tight for as long as I can remember. He was my moral compass. I was his rock, the foundation of his whole life. I am the only person that truly cares about him, other than his turtle, Marcus. Without me paying for his school supplies, food, etc. I honestly don’t know what will happen to him. I know it’s selfish, but I have to go. Better I leave for college and give him hope for the future than off myself now and completely break him. 

                   I look up at Ms. Jones, who is staring at me intently. “It’s nice to see you smile again,” she says. I then realize the wide grin spreading across my face and immediately try to conceal it, failing miserably. At that moment, my smile dissipates for real, as I realize that it’s too good to be true. Good things don’t happen to me. “What’s the catch?” I ask her. She gives me a look of pity. I hate when people do that. “You’ve had way too many absences. I’m afraid that if you receive one more, you’re going to have to repeat senior year.” My heart stops and I feel my defensive rage flare as my face burns scarlet. “I was working! How dare you say that to me!” 

She looks somber as she rubs her chin and looks at me. “I do know that, but unfortunately it’s no excuse according to the school, even if you do have straight A’s. I am SO sorry.” I can tell she means it. I stand up and stumble out of office. I can’t let her see me cry. 

                    The bus stops 1/2 a mile from my house. I get up from my seat at the back and walk past the empty seats. There is gum all over them. I don’t make eye contact with the bus driver, and when she says goodbye, I pretend not to notice. I hop down the steps onto the pothole covered blacktop. I hear the bus start up and sputter away. They really needed to get new ones. They break down almost every month and look like they were built in the 60s. 

                     I was not looking forward to confronting my mother, but I had to. If I wanted to get out of this garbage town, then Amherst was my only way out. In order to achieve this scholarship, I would need to quit both my jobs. My mom would need to get one. 

                    I look around suddenly as I hear some trash cans being knocked over. Standing there are Matt and Cody, grins spread across their acne coated faces. I swear loudly and ask what they are doing. Matt replies, saying, “Our dad is goin’ nuts again, and we wanted to know if you wanted to hang out down by the creek after you pick up John from.” Matt and Cody were old family friends, but their dad was pretty violent sometimes. When that happened, we would go down to the creek in the woods behind their house to skip rocks and stuff. I say sure, but don’t let on about my scholarship. They knew about my dream, but never took it too seriously. They would get upset at the thought of me leaving them here. 

                    I watch them walk away, kicking an old can back and forth between them. I walk until I reach my wretched apartment. I hate it. There are mice and leaky pipes, moldy walls, and cockroaches. I can’t wait to say goodbye to it. I pull open the side door and head towards the stairwell, since the elevator can’t be trusted. I walk up the slope, skipping every other step. I listen to the even sound of my shoes slapping the wood. I make it to the third floor, being careful not to touch the parts of the railing concealing old gum. I come out of the stairwell, walking on the disgusting green carpet that I know to be hiding weak spots in the floor where water had soaked through. I see my door and walk in. 

                   Mom is on the couch in her usual position, sitting cross-legged with the controller in one hand and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos in the other. I make my way towards her and push the off button on the television, and that is when she realizes I am here. “What is wrong with you? Turn it back on!” She screams at me. 

         “No. I need to talk to you about something, and you better listen.” 

         “I don’t care what you do, just leave me alone!” I kick the trash can across the room, which finally makes her shut up. She looks at my face, and she starts crying. Her arms spread out and she gives me a smile. “Come here, baby. I’m sorry. You know I love you. What do you need?” The act doesn’t even touch me. I know she’s just unstable. She does these personality switches all the time. It never bothers me. “Get a job. I need to stop missing school to pay for your garbage. Apparently, you’re an adult, so get a job so I can go to college!” The smile leaves her face as she rises to her feet, her dark hair falling over her eyes. “How dare you talk to me like that?” She asks. Her voice started as a dangerous whisper but was rising fast. She begins walking towards me, stepping over the wrappers and papers. “I am your mother, you ungrateful little—“ I cut her off before she can finish. 

       “Just do it,” I say, and walk out, slamming the door behind me.  

When John walks out the front door of his school, I wave him over. His blonde hair bouncing, he runs towards me with a smile on his face. “What are you so happy about?” I ask. 

       “I won the race!” He screams. I give him a high five and put on a fake smile. Today he had been having a face-off with his bully, Marc. He had been tormenting John for the better part of the year, and John had finally stood up to him. “That’s great! Hey, we’re gonna meet Matt and Cody in the woods, so we better hurry up. Bet you won’t win this race!” I run off in the direction of the street, and I hear John running behind me. I pretend to trip over a crack, giving him the lead. As more dead leaves begin to crunch beneath our feet, the creek begins to come into view behind the trees. “Where are they?” John asks. Just then, they jump out from behind a rock and make John squeal with delight. He runs up and high fives them. 

        An hour later, we are still there when Matt pulls out a bag. I gasp as I see the fluffy white contents. It looks almost friendly as it beckons to me, telling me to step closer. Instead, I pull my eyes away and they land on John, his mouth ajar and eyes wide. I guess he isn’t too young to recognize the danger. This reassures me as I turn back to Matt. “Put that away, you dork,” I say, trying not to upset him. His face breaks into an innocent smile, but all I see is his dark green eyes, and I see nothing there. “Not in front of John,” I plead. I’m starting to get desperate. Instead, he lets his smile drop, and Cody steps forward. “Do it. Don’t be a pussy.” I grab John’s arm and begin to run in the opposite direction as fast as I can. I hear little thwacks getting closer and closer, and I feel a tug. John has dropped to the ground. As I kneel next to him, I can see red blood on the back of his head. They hit him with a fucking rock. My eyes dart around the forest, rage forcing out tears that blur my vision, yet I see no sign of either of them. I look back down, take a deep breath, and help John to his feet. He has tear tracks on both his cheeks, and I feel a punch in the gut. I hug him close and lead the way home. 

         As I push open the pea green door to my apartment, I can hear the television playing. My mother looks at me irritably, and then at John. Her eyes widen, then narrow. She looks back to me, then at him. He runs to her, sobbing, and embraces her. She shoves him off like a rag doll and turns to me. “What. The. HELL did you do to him?! I’ll kill you if you ever lay another hand on my child, you motherfucker!” I turn around and walk right out. I make my way out of the hallway, down the stairs, and out through the double doors. I run about ten yards away, then grab a stone. As hard as I possibly can, I hurl it at my living room window. Not caring what happens next, I head around to the back of my building and unlock my bike, muttering the combination as I do so. I hop on and push the pedals, moving as fast I can to the East Bridge. Once I make it to the center, I lean to the right, set up the kickstand, and lift my leg over. I walk the two steps to the railing and look down. Today, I nearly got my brother killed. I am a selfish, arrogant, foolish, annoying bitch who doesn’t deserve to live, and so all I can do in that moment is to look at the river. The black churning water seems so powerful. I imagine everywhere it’s been. My eyes fix on a wave and follow it until it can no longer be seen. All I can do is look.