sweet, sweet memories

Prologue ~ If Only

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~Skylar~

It was an accident... I swear... I didn't know that she was going to crash into the telephone pole.

And now, I was sitting in the chair at a too-sterile hospital, waiting for the bad news that would surely come. Oh... You don't know what happened do you? I'll tell you the story of how my mother died on the night of my birthday...

One Day Before

It was the morning of my 17th birthday... And I wasn't looking forward to the day ahead of me.

The morning started out as always with me waking up, taking a shower, and pulling on my ripped jeans, black long-sleeve, and applying my make up.

And before you say anything, no, I am not what people call "emo." In 2014, what is even classified as emo? Yes, I cut. Yeah, I hate socializing. Yes, I love wearing black. But I don't have to be emo to cut. It was the only way I knew how to deal with pain.

The bullying started long, long ago. As far back as I could remember, I was bullied. For my straight, black hair. For my too-brown eyes. But I was protected by someone back then... I couldn't remember who... My memory was frayed and torn from the many years of mental and physical beatings I received at school. Only dark wisps remained in the otherwise empty and dusty shelf of childhood memories. All I remembered was my parents arguing day after day, and then one day, my mother couldn't take it anymore and divorced my father. She won custody over me and together, we moved to San Francisco, California with it's many cramped together apartments and urban feel.

And there, I started my new life as a 11-year old girl. I had high hopes that my life here would be better than my life in New York City, but everything was still the same. I was still picked on. I was still the weak girl that could never stand up for herself. Everything was the same. So I decided to change. I built barriers around my heart and shut everyone out...including my own mother. I started dressing in black, cutting, and talking less and less. Between the 8th and 9th grade, I had changed drastically.

But changing doesn't mean you're automatically queen of the school. I was still bullied. I was still mocked. And I was reminded of this as I walked through the crowded hallways of Fox Creek High School.
Shoved into one locker, books slapped out of my hand, the usual... And like always, I ignored them and went on my way.

The school day passed by quickly and before I knew it, the final bell rang, signalling the end of hell. I left in a hurry because there was no reason to stay... I didn't have any friends. Nobody exactly remembered my birthday, so why would I spend one more breathing minute in this place?

I leaped into my mom's already waiting car and slammed the door shut.

"How was school today?" she asked tiredly, like she always did.

"Fine." I stared out the window and fingered the strands of my red-tipped hair. The buildings and road zoomed by the window, but I continued to stare at the bleak, gray sky. Nature had always fascinated me. Everything lived in perfect harmony, a sacrifice for a life. Where as in the human world, everybody killed, cheated, and killed their way to the top. Sometimes, I wished I could just turn into a little black bird and fly away from my life and all it's problems. But I couldn't. I was stuck in this life. Whoever said YouOnlyLiveOnce is right. I only live once. I don't think I could go through this hell called life one more time.

I sighed and slid my black moleskin notebook out of my bag and pulled out a pen along with it. To deal with the pain, I also keep all my private thoughts in a journal, documenting every bad thing that has ever happened to me. Quotes, conversations, entries, feelings. They all went down in black ink in these lined pages.
I had started my entry for the day when my mom spoke.

"Skylar... Since it's your birthday and a new year in your life, I wondered if we could talk about the way you've been acting..."

"No," I responded automatically. I snapped my book shut and placed it on my lap. I continued staring out the window, losing my inspiration to write. Mom pulled up onto our driveway and turned off the engine, but neither of us made any movement to exit the vehicle.

"Skylar, please, I was thinking we could talk about your...problems...over dinner tonight. I plan to make mac 'n cheese, your favorite..." she trailed off.

"I don't have problems. And don't worry about dinner. You go and have fun," I muttered and got out of the car.

If only I could take those words back...

Now

"Skylar Campbell?" a nurse called out. Before I entered the room, I knew what the news was. I could see it like a bright, neon sign on her face.

"I'm sorry, but your mother didn't make it... The doctors did everything they could, but they couldn't stop the bleeding-" She continued on about what had happened, but after I heard the words "your mother didn't make it," I spaced out and thought of all the things I would never say to her. The last time I told her that I loved her was over a year ago. If only those were the last words I told her instead of the ungrateful line. If only I was a better daughter...

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