Xander

Reminiscence (7)

From the beginning of freshman year, you knew something was wrong. To this day, I have never figured out how you knew, but it's not something I particulary like to dwell on. These last couple of months have been more of a shadow of our past lives- my family, I mean. They act as if nothing ever happened, as if she never existed. I'm not sure if that's a way one prefers to handle their grief, but I've decided to go along with it.

      That's the thing, though: going along with it means that my mother likes to pop up out of nowhere and put on this protective and caring facade when in all truth, she doesn't care about me. She never did. She cared about her. I've decided not to dwell on that.

     My dad- well my dad's a different story. He's always out of the state half of the time, and when he is home he keeps his distance from me. I get this strange vibe that it's because I strangely resemble her. And I don't dwell on that either.

      The sad thing is, they've never asked if I was okay after everything happened. They never reassured me, or comforted me, or even fed me the trite expression, It'll be okay.

   It stings way more than I expect it to, but it's okay. To me, it will always be okay. It will always be okay she's gone. It's okay you left. It's okay my mom fakes caring about me, and that my dad is almost always gone. It's okay that no one is there for me. . . . . it's not okay.

 

      I shut my eyes to block the tears threatening to fall and gently set the pencil I'm holding on top of the letter. I couldn't continue writing if I didn't want to cry. So I stopped.

        It was Sunday. Two-thirty am. Typically, I would be at dreamland at the moment, but I couldn't sleep. In fact, since Friday night- the night I saw the person who's been haunting my dreams for months, unfortunately- I haven't been able to. And it sucks.

    I stand up from my desk and lightly tread over to my light switch. After I shut off the lights, I lay down on my bed and sigh in defeat.

       Will Xander be at school tomorrow (or shall I say today)?

I highly believed this to be true, but I was still in a state of denial. I feel my eyes begin to droop as I find myself swimming in the dangerous waters known as my memories.

"Xander, stop!" I giggled as I sprinted away from him.

      "You know you can't run from me!" I heard his amused voice become signifiantly louder as he gets closer.

     I can't help but shriek as I feel him wrap his arms around me and pick me up off the ground. I hadn't been that happy since before she died.

        "Xander Elliot you put me down or- or-" I struggled to come up with a just threat.

"Or what? You'll hurt me with your insults? Abby, you should know that I'm immune to your posinous opinions by now. We've been friends for- what?- six years. So. . . yeah, you can't hurt me."

       "Sure I can," I replied confidently.

He raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

       I slapped him so hard  the impact was heard and my hand stung. My eyes widened as I realized my impulsive action and Xander slowly placed me back on the ground.

     "Xander, I-I" It was the first time I couldn't think of anything to say to him.

"Just don't," His voice was venomous, and I flinched back from it. His face was turned away from me, and I was ashamed of what I did.