The Poisened

                In the recesses of my mind I hear water. It drips miles down from a faucet into a metal container. It is far away in a place I can’t find. Then it hits me like a waterfall. My eyes are open as I gasp for air.

“I said wake up for god’s sake.”

Jason stands over my bed with an empty bucket. Water plasters my blonde hair to my face. Judging by the light in the house it is early morning. It is time for school.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I fall back into the liquid pooling around my body.

“I should do it more often.” He tosses the bucket dismissing the situation carelessly. I push him out and dress quickly. It is Thursday and the sun shines to be seen. Only I just want to burry my face in a pillow until later in the day.

“Aspen Mary Genne if you are not out of this house in three seconds I swear.”

I cannot be late again; the skipping is finally catching up to me. I run to the living room pulling on my shoes as I go. Jason is not waiting by the door like always. Instead he stands across the living room in the open kitchen. What is he doing? We don’t go in the kitchen; we don’t even cook in the kitchen. It is forbidden by an unspoken rule. He stares at the fridge; his vision is in a place where eyes cannot see.

“I’m ready.” He says nothing.

Jason is not my father but my guardian. I do care for him so I watch out for him just as he does for me. “Jason, get out of that kitchen.” It wasn’t a question.

“Why can’t I stay in here Aspen?” Jason shifts his view to me. I can hardly comprehend his question; it shouldn’t even be a question.

“You know mom died in there. You know what happened.”

The memory surfaces like it had many times. Mother grabs my seven year old shoulders and her eyes plead for me to believe the story she has told me. She told me of people who choose power over their life. They get power but their life would end shortly after. The only evidence that they exist is by their blazing red lips and the black life that would drip from their eyes, like tears, at death. They were called poisoned and my mother told me all of this in her final moments. When she died in our kitchen with black tears reaching toward her red lips I knew my mother would never lie to me.

Jason shakes his head from side to side.

“This, again? Jason you were there! I know you don’t want to believe it but you can’t ignore the truth. The poisoned are out there.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“You know I can!” I yell. The anger stings my own tongue. Jason throws the keys to our Honda across the room. His face is so red I think he is going to explode.

“God dammit Aspen!”

“You’re in denial!” I scream.

                There is a knock at the front door; I don’t have to guess who it is. My best friend Perez lives in the same apartment complex and rides with us every day to school. He is early but I assume he heard our argument and came to rescue me. He walks in after the first knock without invitation. Perez’s body blocks the door as Jason and I stand in silence.

“Knock knock.” Perez says.

“Let’s go.” I pick up the keys off the ground and squeeze past Perez, leaving Jason to find a way to work on his own. I slide into the driver’s side of the Honda and start the engine. It purrs like a cat. Perez is speaking before he is fully in the car.

“Arguing about the same thing?” The fountain of desperation overwhelms me and I crumble. Is this what my mother felt like when she needed me to see the truth? Jason found my mother and I in the kitchen. He saw that she died as a poisoned. How could he not believe it? If you look for the poisoned you will see them.