Lights Out

In Your Dreams

“Ryder, answer me! Oh, I’m sorry I mean Birthing Hips!” Lily giggles as she blows on her newly painted nails at her locker. The girl is obsessed with painting her nails in school.

I give her one long standing glare and put my books back into my locker. I can’t stand that nickname. I can’t stand my hips either.

Lily pouts looking at me with only a little regret. Still, it’s not enough.

“Oh come on, take a joke kid. You can’t be sad forever. It’s been a year!”

I glance at Lily for a moment and wonder where my best friend went. Everything that had ever mattered to me was slipping by and now that she couldn’t even understand I was beginning to doubt our friendship.

“And you can’t tell me what to do,” I say fiercely.

Lily looks hurt, but I know I will never take it back. She knows that too. When I say something I mean it, and I never regret it. I push up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and wish that it wasn’t so hot in Arizona.

The hurt wipes away from her face. She substitutes for normal for once. “Anyways, I was wondering if you were going to the track meet slash try-outs thing-y next week.”

I laugh a little at Lily’s use of words and shake my head no.

She wrinkles her nose, almost in annoyance. “Oh come ON! You did amazing last year; you broke the school record! How do you think he noticed-“

She stops in her tracks and I bite my lip. “Just stop,” I whisper.

This is when I know the conversation has to end, so I walk away slinging my bag over my shoulder. I rush towards the school doors. June is coming around and I can already feel everyone’s excitement over summer.

The thought makes me shudder even though it’s seventy degrees out. It’s hard not to enjoy summer because at one point in my life I did enjoy it. I played chicken with my dad, mom, and big brother. I smiled at the sun and the beach was my playground.

I try not to think bad thoughts like my friends ask me to, but they slip in and out like ghosts passing through my head.

I jump into my car and speed away, thinking that maybe in another summer or two I might be okay. But nothing good can come from this one; I can feel it.

I jump into my teal green Cobalt, turn on my radio and cruise towards my nearby home. I sigh and think of what could wait at home. Or, rather what I know will happen.

I imagine my mother coming in with our dog and my brother yelling, “Hey birthing hips!”

I think of warm cookies cooking and my dad stealing more than he is offered by my mom. When did I get so distant from my family that I had to imagine?

A huge sigh of relief courses through me when I get home safe, unscarred, and still intact. When I get through the door the scene I once saw in my head is almost as dead as the next door neighbour’s roses.

My brother is lying on the couch asleep, and there’s a note on the table from my mom. It says that she and my dad would be late to dinner and possibly to everything else in life too. I only guess at the last one.

I set down my and wait for something to happen, anything. Nope, just another day in the life of a nobody. I close my eyes as I rub my head and try to wash away the worry that remains in my body.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” a voice sighs.

I jump in surprise. I grab at my chest to see my brother has woken up and decided to give me a heart attack in the process.

“Holy shit Brandon. Maybe next time you could warn me when you’re going to scare the bejesus out of me,” I scold.

He shrugs and ruffles his hair back and forth. “Whatever Ryder; all I’m saying is that you worry like mom. It’s ridiculous.”

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering why he’s always so annoying all of a sudden. “It’s smart.”

He shrugs his shoulders again, and goes to the cabinet for a bag of chips. He runs up the stairs, towards his room, all in a matter of seconds.

Part of me aches to have our solid sibling relationship back, but I know he’ll never want that. Ever since things have…changed he’s more silent than ever.

I can’t blame him, but I push all events from today and the past out of my mind to try to make room for more important things. For one, there’s the fact that junior prom is coming up and I need to find any excuse not to go.

Lily begs me to go and brings me prom shopping constantly but I can’t stand to see sparkly dresses all in the same lame style. She promises I’ll get something vintage but I can’t imagine myself being comfortable in anything. Still, it’s Lily. She may be ditzy and different, but she’s my best friend.

See, Lily doesn’t have a lot of friends. This comes from eighth grade when she cut her hair pixie style but it looked more like a chopped up mess. Ever since, she’s had long brown hair. She refuses to cut it even though I beg her constantly.

I question prom as I take out frozen pizza from the freezer and watch the microwave. I think about the damage it’s doing to my head. They say it gives you cancer, and that you can die from too much exposure. I use to laugh at such myths, but as I stare at the spinning pizza I realize I’m so close to the microwave for these exact reasons. Slowly I back up and rub my forearm. Yeah, it doesn’t take a year to get over someone, not even a lifetime when you’re… well, you know.

I take my pizza out and head to my room to munch on it. As I open the door I feel the mustiness of my room and realize I barely go in here. Most of my nights are spent in the guest bedroom; the thought of being in my room makes me go dizzy. Then again, I don’t avoid school, do I now?

I try not to think very much and flop onto my bed. I rest my head at the bottom of my bed, and turn on my TV. A soap opera comes on and I almost gag out my pizza. Like I really need that now. I change the station quickly, not caring what channel it comes out to. It could be Spanish for all I care. Instead the four ‘o clock news is on and the reporter seems to be reporting bad news which is such a surprise, ya know.

“.. The drunk drivers were killed instantly, while the two innocent victims remain in a coma. The car was coming down Washington Street when the two drunken boys ran into their car. The tragedy is still striking the town of…”

Tragedy is everywhere. Even though I don’t enjoy the news, or tragedy for that matter, I don’t change the channel. It fascinates me how the news can tell all these horror stories and barely come out with inspiring, worthy news. A picture flashes up of the two victims and I’ve had enough. It seems too surreal. It happened almost exactly the same way to him anyways…

Somewhere in-between eating a sub-par frozen pizza and watching the news my eyes became weary, wanting rest. I guide them by laying my head on my comforter and letting them close. Only in my dreams did I ever really know what was happening. Or so I thought.