Black Ice

Chapter Eight

"Trust is the glue of life. It's the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It's the foundational principle that holds all relationships."

~Stephen Covey

*****

I remember when I was in third grade, I lost the spelling bee. 

I was a finalist, up against two fourth graders. The woman at the podium called my name. I stood up. 

"Behavior," She read out. 

I looked out into the crowd of parents, craning their necks and holding video cameras. My father had promised he'd come. Just in case he couldn't find a seat, I had stuck a little card on a chair in the back with the words For Daddy on it. 

The chair was empty. 

I turned back to the lady at the podium and shook my head. I couldn't spell it. 

It wasn't because I didn't know how. I heard the words in my mind: "Behavior. B-E-H-A-V-I-O-R. Behavior." But I couldn't say it. 

I was disqualified. 

When I got home, Mum told my that my Father had gone on a business trip to China and wouldn't be back for two weeks. I stood there in my bedroom for about fifteen minutes, staring blankly at the floor and fighting tears. It was such a little thing. But it had meant so much. 

That was the day I decided I needed to be stronger. 

So I grabbed a pen and I started writing down everything I was feeling. Sometimes the words wouldn't flow, and I got stuck, and I got frustrated. I would scribble and erase, but in the end, I was always able to let it all out onto the page. Over the years, it became a habit. Every time I felt betrayed or abandoned by the people closest to me, (which was, unfortunately, often) I wouldn't cry or scream or say a word. I'd write it all down. 

But I've never felt anger like this before. 

My mother has faults, that's for certain. But I never could've imagined that she'd withhold information from me about my own parents. I feel like I don't know her anymore. I don't even know who I am anymore. 

I grab my journal from the shelf, but just as quickly put it back again. Pain like this can't be conveyed in words. How do I let it out? What do I do? 

I stamp my foot, furious with my life. 

What's left of my life. 

I suppose now that I know I'm going to die anyways, I could do all sorts of rebellious things. I could wear revealing clothes, and smoke, and drink alcohol and sneak out at night. 

But that's not me. 

The awful thing is, this revelation has driven the old me from existence. I can't be the old Alysson now that I've felt an anger as intense as this. I'm not good, but I'm not bad. I'm not dead, but hardly living. I'm lost. I'm someone else entirely. I don't even feel human. 

I start walking. Out the door. Down the stairs. 

Through the hallway. There's the front gate. I'm out of the house. 

I begin to jog. 

I haven't told anyone where I'm going. I don't have my phone, any money, or even a jacket. 

I jog faster. With every pound of my feet, I feel like I'm pushing away the fiery, burning pain in my chest and my stomach and my mind and-

I break into a full on run. My home vanishes in the distance. I don't know where I'm going. My body hurts. All I know is that if I stop running now, my demons will catch me and kill me. 

Run. Run. Run. 

The empty chair. 

Stay alive. 

The squeal of car tires. 

Keep moving.

The angel. 

I stop so suddenly, I almost fall over. 

God, I'm an idiot. I've been so caught up in my problems, I've forgotten that there actually is someone I can go to for help. 

Maya. The angel who told me I have thirty days to live. She told me if I needed her, all I had to do was call. 

"...Maya?" I say hesitantly. 

Nothing happens. I clear my throat to try again, a little louder. "May-"

"Shh!"

I jump and spin around. 

Maya's sitting on the sidewalk. Her blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she's dressed in ratty jeans and a fleece jacket. It's almost comical to see her like this. 

"Don't say my name too loud," She warns me, then pats the sidewalk. "Come and sit." 

I sit. 

"I know why you called me, Alysson."

I sigh. "I feel like the world that I know is crumbling. Maybe I'm going crazy...I don't know what to do."

"Did you feel like this before the accident?"

I snort. "No, but that's probably because I didn't know I was going to die before I got my first kiss. Also, my dad is British. What's up with that?" 

Maya laughs. "From what I hear, there's someone who wants very badly to be your first kiss." 

"Oh, Carter? He's a great guy, but I can't go to him about this."

"No, you can't." Maya turns to face me. "Look, Alysson; you were put on this earth for a reason. What is it? I don't know. But I do know that you have to live with no anger in your heart, because anger is what weighs you down, not secrets. You have to forgive your mother. You have to let yourself love Carter and your siblings. You have to be a daughter, and a sister, and a friend, and maybe even a girlfriend, because when you're at your lowest point in life, you'll need a mother or a sister or a friend or even a boyfriend to pick you back up again."

I fall onto my back and stare at the sky. "I want to, Maya. I want to so badly. But I don't know if I can." 

"You, Alysson, are the most gentle, polite, loving girl I've ever met," Maya tells me. "If anyone can find away to forgive the universe, it's you. I know it's you." 

"But how?" I sigh, and sit up. "How do I-" 

I stop.

Maya is gone.

All that is left is the faint smell of honey in the breeze. 

*****

AN: Whew. 

Okay then. Whoo-hoo! I updated! So sorry for the absence...I think I'll be updating Tuesdays and Thursdays from now on, it's just easier with my schedule. 

Let me know what you think of the chapter! Should Alysson forgive her mother? What will come next? Dun, dun, dun!

xoxo, 

-HopelessByComparison