The Road is not Mislaid

One

              Six o’clock in the morning. My alarm goes off.  I scramble out of bed.  Get dressed. Brush my mangled blonde hair. Put a dash of mascara on my short eyelashes. Grab my keys. Drive for two minutes to Crystal Valley High. Get out of the old ’75 truck. Go to my red locker. Wait for the aggravating bell to ring. Go to all of my classes. Go to the coffee shop with Gwen.  Do simple homework.  Attempt to fall asleep. The same thing. Every day.  Nothing new. Nothing daring. Nothing adventurous. Nothing spectacular.  I’m not complaining. My life isn’t horrible. I have a beautiful country house with a caring and supportive family to fill it.  I have a few friends, I guess.  They are always there for me, even when I don’t want them to be. Especially when I don’t want them to be.  I have a car that still runs despite the putrid smell it gives off every time I start it. I mean, it could be worse. I could be homeless. I just wish something out of the ordinary would occur. Something new. Something daring. Something adventurous. Something spectacular.  But it won’t.  It can’t. I’m utterly stuck in my life.  I want nothing more but to grow a pair of wings and fly away from it.

                “Amarie.” I hear a soft voice pull me out of my thoughts, “Amarie, sweetie.” It continues, “Wake up, you’re going to be late for school.”  My eyes flutter a bit.  I can see the blurred outline of my mother. My caring mother, who would bend hell to help me strive whispers once more, “Amarie, wake up my love.”  I put my heavy arms out and stretch as far as my body will allow me.

                “Good morning,” I attempt to say, although it probably sounds a bit more mumbled then I intend.

                “Good morning lazy, get out of bed, you’re going to be late.”  I smile and quickly frown again, keeping my mouth shut in the morning is a benefit to all mankind. If there was an award for bad morning breath, it would easily go to me.  I sit up, slowly, steadily with eyes half open.  I stay there for a moment taking in the world. Once my mom is convinced I won’t plop back down and disappear into my dreams again, she leaves me to get ready.  I follow through with my typical morning routine; washing my too pink face, brushing through my lion’s main of hair, and pulling it back into a braid. Cleansing my mouth of the dragon that took residence in it the night before, lazily sprawling mascara on my tired eyelashes, and finally staring blankly into my bland closet for about twenty minutes, hoping that a new outfit with some color in it will magically appear.  After I face reality and realize that won’t happen, I decide to settle with my normal clothes--a tasteless t-shirt and a pair of hand-me-down washed out jeans.  I wish I had something presentable to wear, but I don’t think anyone would care if I did. People in a small town like mine aren’t surprised very easily. We all know each other inside and out.  It’s a little too close for comfort here in Lake City, Colorado with a population of only three hundred ninety two.  The people here practically live on top of each other. Privacy is a luxury I can’t afford.  So I mostly keep to myself and never do anything worth talking about.

-

Before I leave for school, I glance at my reflection in the mirror once more.  A tall young woman stares back at me with beaming green eyes and cheeks more red than a rose in the middle of spring. This girl isn’t weak.  She can fight for what she believes in.  This girl is tough to the core with the muscle to prove it.  This girl is me.  I’m not a small little flimsy thing.  I never have been.   I’m simply me and there’s nothing I can do to change that.  I stand there for a moment more, staring, contemplating. I hear my mother yell for me from the bottom of the stairs. I break the glance between the reflection and me and make my way to school.