A Dream by Noon.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The rain continued throughout the evening into night. By the time I sat down in bed I realized just how exhausted I was. I reached down and pulled out my Algebra binder to finish work that was due the next day. Rain droplets on the window and roof seemed to synchronize into one beat that was forcing my eyes closed as I stared, eyes blurring at the numbers. I replaced the binder in my backpack. Save it for tomorrow morning. I have a study period, I reminded myself. I turned off the lamp next to me and stared up at the ceiling. Swirls of water projected by streetlights onto my ceiling formed the most beautiful swirls that moved back and forth in rhythm with the sounds. I thought about Ryan. I could think about nothing else but Ryan, until my eyes finally closed, and I was asleep.

I open my eyes just in time to see a huge flash in front of my window. Still half asleep, it takes me a minute to realize what it was before a loud boom of thunder nearly shakes the house. I turn to look at my clock, 4:52. Ugh. There didn't seem to be a point to going back to sleep now. I rolled over and stared out the window as Monday started creeping into my body. The feeling of release this weekend was slipping away and the pit in my stomach was returning. My brain started running through the scenarios it did every morning before school, telling me all the reasons I should stay home, all the illnesses I should make up, the excuses. It had been years of this and unfortunately none of them worked anymore. My parents knew them all. Believed none of them. I wished I had my license so that I didn't have to get on the bus, and then also, knew that if I had my license my chances of becoming a school drop out were huge. Honor roll student to school drop out within months of getting her license, the teachers would say, surprised. I don't know why everyone always had to be all or nothing for me. I wanted Ryan to call and say, 'just move in with me and we'll live happily ever after,' and at exactly the same time, I knew just how much of a ridiculous fantasy that was. Even after all that I felt this weekend, it didn't change that I had to do this for the next 3 years. Three years might as well have been forever.

I sat up and immediately felt nauseous. I steadied myself on the bed and then made my way into the dark hallway, trying not to wake anyone up, and down the stairs the creaked at each step. Rummaging through the fridge I found some orange juice and poured a cup, sipping on it, hoping the feeling would subside. I looked for food and found a bagel, toasting it while I started boiling water for tea. My heart was pounding, and I continued to tell myself to relax to no avail. Some mornings were like this, and I could shut up all the commotion in my body, but this morning it wasn't working. I sat down with my bagel and tea, staring out the big glass sliders into the backyard that was just light enough to see into now. The rain was still falling but slower now, hitting the wooden deck with little splatters. I took a bite of my bagel, chewing slowly and felt it sit in my throat, the feeling of nausea returning. Creaking made me turn to the hallway, and wait until I saw my mother approach, still half asleep in her nightgown. She rubbed her eyes and looked over at me. "Thunder wake you up too?" She asked.

"Yep." I nodded. I thought of ways to tell her I needed to stay home today and the thinking only increased my panic.

She picked up on my silence. "You okay?" she asked. A question that never had an honest response.

"Yeah." Then I thought about it. "I don't feel good." I said, waiting for her to give me an out today. To stay home.

"Don't even think about it." She answered quickly. "You're going to school." She said, slightly annoyed by my response, after years of hearing it. She saw my head drop and softened a bit, walking over to me, and felt my forehead, then looked at me and said, "You're gonna be fine. Get through the day."

"Okay." I answered, with nothing else to say.

I went up to the shower, hoping it would help. I tried to think about after school, or the weekend, or summer, but all thoughts led me back to the five days a week of going to that brick building. I self-talked myself into oblivion, as I usually did. I told myself it wasn't a big deal. It was just a few hours, and before I knew it I'd be off into the real world, not looking back. Nothing put an end to the physiological response of panic in my body this morning.