The next morning is a Saturday, so I sleep in. When I wake up, it's 9:00. I eat one pancake for breakfast, then dress in the purple cuff sweatpants, loose, comfy white top, and low-cut black and white Converse. I pull my hair into a ponytail, and decide not to wear makeup today.
Later, I go swimming. I do laps. Up and down, down and up, under and over, in and out. It feels good to swim through the clear, warm water. There's only one other person there, off in the free swim area, so I get all the laps columns to myself. When I'm finally done, I dry off, dress, and dry my hair as much as possible under one of the automatic hand driers. Then I toss on my hoodie, pull up the hood, and step outside into the cold February air.
***************
1 month later...
When I get home from school, Maggie is sitting at the table, sifting through mail and tapping things out on her laptop. "Storm." She says.
"Hi. What's up?" I ask, sensing that something is definitely up. It's March now, March 15, and the snow is all gone. Everything is fresh and new. Birds chirp, grass grows and becomes green, flowers pop up from under the frozen surface. The sky is a beautiful blue, and there is a sense of freshness and hope in the air. I walk with a bounce in my step, and everything seems more forgiving and friendly.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news." She says. Okay, she exaggerates. Nothing to worry about.
"Okay..." I say.
"Storm. We're moving." She says quietly. "After school ends for the year."
No. No. Nonononono. NO! Noooooo. This CAN NOT be happening. All the bounce, cheer, and fresh starts are sucked out of me with that one sentence. "NO!" I shout. "No. No. No no no no no no no no. I can't do it." I run out the door. Out the door, across the yard, and down the road. I don't know where I'm going, but then the answer pops into my head. Away. Yes, that's the word. Away. Away from the horrible truth: I'm leaving everything. Again. I desperately need to be anywhere but here, I think. I keep running, running, until I run out of breath. It's then that I spot the train tracks. I curl up on them, willing a train to come and end the horrible pain. A while later, what feels like forever but must only be 10 minutes later, I hear a shout.
"Hey!" Clinking metal. Footsteps. A shadow.
"What the- Storm?!" A familiar voice. Wesley. Hands reach down and pull me up. "Baby, it's okay. What's wrong beautiful?" We walk to Dairy Queen, and he orders us both Blizzards. I order a mini mint oreo, and he gets a small cookie dough. We walk outside and sit on the curb.
"What's wrong beautiful?" He asks again. I put my head on his shoulder.
"We're moving." I whisper. A tear slides down my cheek.
"Oh... Where?" He asks.
"California." I start to cry.
"No baby... I'll miss you so much... Please no..." His voice cracks.
"I don't have a choice... I need you Wesley!!" I say, sobbing. I know I look a sight with tear-stained cheeks and hair sticking to my face, but I don't care. "I need you."
"When are you moving?"
"June. When school's out."
"Aw, baby." We sit there crying for a while. Finally, we get up. We hold hands and walk home. When I'm home, he leaves and I go up to my room, locking the door behind me. I start to sob, then I cut. Cut to kill the pain.
YOU ARE READING
My Life is a Silent Hurricane
Teen FictionFor Storm Grey, her name seems to fit the description of her and her life. Acting the part of a tough teen, all hipster clothes, spikes, leather, and black, she acts tough, carefree, and easy-going. But in reality, she's silently screaming for help...
