I Don't Really Know...

Chapter 15: It Could Only Be Paradise.

I let out a shuddering gasp and sit down on the dusty dirt.  I press my palms, caking them with dirt and cracking mud.  I start to relax.  I sink my weight into the ground, my sneakers flattening the grass and breaking the thin strands.  

The valley was beautiful.  It was part of why Ms. Lasdon chose this.  The precipice started just at the edge of my toes, falling into a steep, steep hill. Rocks would occasionally fall from you running next to the ledge, making them tumble and sometimes, if you were lucky, reaching all the way to the middle of the greenery.  Some people actually spot it and other daredevils go retrieve it.  

The actual forest wasn’t all that giant.  It was probably almost an acre, stopping at another neighborhood.  It was basically two, nature-made balconies staring at each other.  I always wonder who could be on the other side.  

I lean my head toward the sky.  it’s starting to become nighttime.  I really shouldn’t still be here.  Ms. Lasdon will kill me.  But honestly, what else could she do?  I might as well enjoy it.  

The sky is dark, and a light, but chilling breeze is blowing.  As the sky envelopes me, I see a tinge of a deep fuchsia and flamingo pink color at the edge of the sky, just above the dark outline of trees.   Pine trees and oak trees, to be exact.  

If I could see the oaks, I’d probably say that I could see long leaves with small ridges on each side, veins running throughout like the veins that run blood through our bodies.  Veins that run chlorophyll through the leave’s body.  You could say.  

But what I can see is the pines, the huge arms with thousands of tiny needle-like fingers, shielding the delicate branches.  

Why couldn’t life be like this?  Why couldn’t it be this simple?  With trees, as if they have their very own souls, dancing with the wind, and dirt being picked up and caught in your eyes.  The dirt getting caked under your fingernails as you grasp the land, trying to get a solid grip to the ground.  

“ZOIE!!!!!!!”  I hear from a ways away.  I crane my neck behind me, to see a black figure standing impatiently at the bottom of the trail, with a giant black sweatshirt on.  It could only be my brother.  I stand and carefully jog down the hill, remembering the same day I saw the horses, I had run back down and tripped onto an oncoming tree route.  

I jump over rocks skillfully and reach the bottom, finding my brother.  

“Hey...Lasdon’s mad at you,” He said, looking at me sadly.

“Don’t beat around the bush now,” I say sarcastically, as I stare blankly at him.  “She’s been mad at me all week.  Anything new I need to know?”  

“Dinner’s ready, and she cooked for you.”  He smiled.  I was shocked.  Could the tables have turned?  

Most likely not.  

“Ok, let’s go.  Sorry I held you up.”  We trudged back and opened the front door with a creak, seeing Ms. Lasdon sitting at the dining room table, eating by herself.  I sat myself down next to my brother.  

“How was your day?” Ms. Lasdon didn’t look up from her plate.  

“Well, it-”

“I was talking.  To. Jaison.”  Ms. Lasdon interrupted, threateningly.  She still didn’t look at me, but glanced at Jaison.  “Go ahead, Jaison.” Jaison looked startled, and stared at his plate, as if looking for answers hidden in the mixture of mashed potatoes and torn chicken pieces. 

“Um, it was fine, I guess.  Got homework...need to study for a quiz tomorrow...you know.”  He busied himself with pushing mashed potatoes around his dirty plate.  

Again, feeling like the dirty, dust-covered gum that’s sitting on the floor, waiting for a second of relevance.  Of course, it won’t get any.  

I look down at my plate.  Mashed potatoes covered in melting butter.  Green beans sitting untouched on the plate.  Golden-roasted chicken melting off the bone.  Usually this classic, ‘Ms. Lasdon’ meal would make me feel better.  

It just reminds me of everything that happened.

Everything.  Everything, everything, everything…

I start to breathe heavily.  Ms. Lasdon glances at me, but doesn’t take a bit of effort to think about what I’m doing.  I’m now taking short, panting breaths.  

“COULD YOU EVER TAKE A BIT OF KNOWLEDGE FOR ME?!  DO YOU THINK I’M A GHOST?!  NO.  I’M NOT.  I EXIST.  DON’T LOOK AT ME AS IF I’M A BLANK PICTURE!”

I stand up from my chair and my cup of orange juice falls, spilling, covering the plates, wood, and floor.  My chair slams into the wall behind me, as I grab my Ipod and headphones and flee out of the wooden-framed door.  I run up the same trail, with my iPod, listening, breathing, running.

I make it up the trail, and stand there for a bit.  What am I going to do now? I can’t go back, Ms. Lasdon will kill me.  I’ll go back when they fall asleep.  

I glance at the other house across from mine and notice a light.  Not a large, porch-like light, but a small, flashlight.  It’s moving.  I narrow my eyes, trying to make it out, when the light stops moving and the beam points to me.  

I take my phone and turn it on the highest screen-brightness.  I raise it above my head and move it left to right.  I see the flashlight being raised and moving like a metronome, from one side to the other.  

So she noticed me.  I wonder who she is...what her life is like.  

Even though I don’t know her, I still feel as if she is the only person that makes me feel relevant.