The Divided

The water laps up over my toes, which have turned a pale blue. I feel myself sinking deeper into the grainy sand, little pebbles dig at my ankles. The one-piece suit I am wearing is riding up my butt, there are just too many people around for me to pick it out, so I stand there fidgeting awkwardly. Class trips are very rare for us, but the ends of our lives in school calls for celebration. The sunset painted on the wall always makes me wonder what a real beach was like. My mind scatters everywhere when suddenly a rain of freezing water comes over me. Laughter rings in my ears, it wouldn't have been any one other than Ricy's.

I turned abruptly with a face of fake rage, "You suck!" Then I laughed as I chucked a clump of damp sand at him, nailing him in the face. I began to run when a searing pain shot up my leg. It was as if I had stepped on a knife. At first I stood there in shock staring at the beach mural on the wall, then I collapsed to the ground in a fit of pain. The sand stuck to my legs, it was cold and seemed like it was burrowing under my skin.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" She ran to my side, crouched down, and clasped my hand. The remnants of the sand ball scattered up her arm, she must have been standing behind Ricy. Bronte's eyes were glowing an nonhuman-like deep blue. Not many people here have those eyes.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine." Lying. I don't usually lie. I pulled my hand from my foot to find it covered in warm blood and cold sand. A gasp escapes our lips. Ricy stood a distance away, because he wouldn't, no couldn't, come near me.

"I'll get help." He murmured. His face has lost all color and his eyes were searching for another place to look other than my foot. He was going to be sick. I nodded and he ran.

By now most of the class had surrounded me. I couldn't look, I knew it was bad, but my eyes flickered down and saw it. The sand surrounding my foot was red, deep red. I could feel breathing down my neck, almost as if every girl in my class wanted to smell my hair.

"Sophi?" Bronte's face began to blur in front of me. The smell of fake salt water fills my senses. "Hey Soph, stay awake." I'm trying. Can't she tell? Her face has began to double, the triple. The ceiling lights begin to hurt my head and the cold nipped at my skin. Black.

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The pale light cascades in from my window. The snow falls lightly and sticks to the foggy glass. I scan the room to assure my self of where I am. Same light wooden door, same faded blue walls, same dark grey carpet, and same pile of crap in the corner. My mother is asleep in the rocking chair by the book shelf. There is a bottle of pain killers next to my bed and a glass of water that has frost on its edges. I shift my weight to sit up and pain shoots up my body. Once I manage to raise my leg up and prop myself into the sitting position I swipe one of the pillows from behind my neck blindly and place it under my foot. I take three valacine and the pain subsides immediately. My bandage is an awkward pink color and almost red around the wound site.

The light in my room flickers every few seconds. The circuits must need replacing again. It keeps getting colder, it doesn't really bother me though. My mother is twitching a lot. She does when she has bad dreams, which is every time she shuts her eyes. She won't tell Charlie or me about it, only Dad knows. "Mom." She keeps fidgeting. "Mom, wake up," I throw my pillow at her and she wakes up panting.

"Thank you." She wipes sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. I hate seeing her like this. "I-I'm going to go. I'll have Charlie bring you some soup." She rises slowly and shuffles delicately out of the room, looking fragile as glass.

I can feel the stillness of the room settling. It is almost as if I can hear the flakes landing on the window. I look at the bandage. How could a little shell do so much damage? I can't even imagine how much blood I lost. The door creaks open. "Hey Soph." His head peaks through the door, his brown hair reflecting the light from the lamp. He almost has to duck upon entering. I never see him anymore, he has been spending all of his time with his pair. She is nice...I think. Hard to believe he will be married soon. She is lucky to have him. He is strong, caring, brave smart, and has the most vibrant green eyes with tiny gold flecks in them. No wonder all the girls liked him. Wow, I fawn over him a lot.

He hands me a bowl of soup. It almost burns my hands as I set it on my lap. The warm broth flows down my throat, the rich chicken flavor is amazing.

"Maybe you'll be able to go five minutes without hurting yourself when I'm gone." His laugh is full and deep. I am going to miss that.

"I sure hope so." His eyes capture the light as he raises his brow.

"God help whoever gets stuck with you." He shakes his head and chuckles lightly. He kisses my forehead and walks out.

"I could say the same for you." I mumble. He whips around and shoots a glance at me and leaves. Geez. This gash needs to heal. The pale walls that surround me are boring. I slowly unwrap and replace the bandage, thanks to the medicine I feel nothing. The cut is scabbed over and the blood has finally stopped. I push up and slowly rest my foot on the floor. My leg feels weak from blood loss, but frankly I don't care. I crack the door open and head down the hall. The air in the halls is colder than my room. My mom lies asleep on her bed, flinching slightly every few seconds. She grips her pillow slightly and grits her teeth. I come out of the hallway and see my father and Charlie drinking coffee in the living room, watching the weather. More and more snow. I attempt to sneak by and hide behind the curtains. My back skims the frost kissed window and I release a short gasp.

"Where do you think you're going?" Charlie peeks his head around the curtain.

"Out." I unwrap myself from the cloth and cross my arms. I brush past him.

"You're not fully healed." He snatches my wrist and pulls me back. All my weight goes onto my left foot and I grit my teeth from the acute pain rising up my body. He turns me around and stares at me disapprovingly.

"I'm fine." I keep my expression cold like his. What happened to the boy laughing with me ten minutes ago? I wrench myself free from his grasp. I grab my sneakers and sit down, relieved that the pain is gone.

"Are you sure you want to go out looking like that?" He scoffs as he speaks and a smirk appears on his face that slowly widens to a grin. I turn and glance in the window. I am in pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt. I try not to think about my hair.

No words come to me when I try to make a witty remark so I schlump my shoulders and march down the hall.

I stand there jiggling my closet door for a good five minutes before it pops open. I walk inside and realize how small it really is. Bronte could practically live in hers, then again she lives on the other side of town. I do a quick count of my articles, two coats, six jeans, and roughly 30 shirts. I let out a sigh. I grab my regulation length jeans and long sleeve shirt. The denim is faded almost to the shade of my walls and my shirt is black with light green accents on the arm, "Ciembre High Ski Team" is spelled out. I grab my school issued windbreaker that has our mascot on the back, the Husky, and dog extremely common in old times. It is a little too big on me,after all it was Charlie's, and I have to roll the sleeves a little to get my hands to come out the ends. I take more meds and head for the door. It is about time that I got out of here. Miraculously the snow stopped falling.