Wake Me

Chapter One

A cool autumn breeze shifted, carrying dried leaves away in a swirl like Mother Nature's vacuum. Up and over the ridge it went, leaving nothing behind in its' wake but a few fluttering leaves that had escaped the winds clutches. Dani plucked a leaf that had landed on her auburn brown hair as she made her way through the maze of headstones in Whitefish, Montana. Her nervous fingers picked at it's decaying shape. The brittle ends crumbled away as she pulled the spine from the center of the cottonwood leaf, almost as if it was in slow motion.

It had almost been exactly a year since her sixteenth birthday and her last visit here. But this year, she was early. Something traumatic happened this summer; a nightmare she hasn't quite awaken from yet. She wasn't sure how to explain it or why she felt compelled to talk to her dead mother. Dani felt the grave itself was beckoning her to its' depths, feeling heavy hearted and burdened by betrayal and hatred. Or maybe worse—she hadn't decided.

Silently, she stood at the foot of her mother's grave.

The headstone inscription declares her mother's name, Danielle Marie Miller, her birth and death date. Dani had always felt unworthy sharing her mother's full name as she stared at the scribed words. Her mother's last breath was taken as Dani practically took her first. It's hard looking into her father's eyes, knowing if she hadn't been conceived, no celebration or remembrance would take place on October 14th.

She was convinced her life had taken her mother's. Some call her a misfortunate gift, but others say she's a murderer. Dani sided more on the latter, though she never told her father how she felt.

The epitaph message was quite clear upon her headstone, the words her father had scribbled on a napkin that night in the hospital:

    God gives; He takes
    A husband's heart, He breaks
    Breath for breath; life for life
    Until I see you again, best friend—my wife

Dani thought of her father, the good man that he's been, freely offering his love and appreciation for her over the years. Never once has he blamed her for killing his beloved wife; mother of his three sons and only daughter; a murderous daughter. However, when Dani pushes his buttons, it melts his wires of patience. That's when she sees the pain he hides behind his sad brown eyes. Always and without fail, the epitaph upon her mother's tombstone reminds Dani of his loss. The ultimate sacrifice that was made for her life. That's why she's never told him how she feels about herself. It would be the final blow to an already broken man.

Dani lowered her backpack from her shoulders and slowly unzipped the large compartment. She pulled out the blanket she'd packed and a thermos of hot chocolate. Normally, her birthday visit's with her mom included one balloon for each year she's been missed, a birthday card Dani meticulously purchased to read as though her mother had selected it herself, a slice of carrot cake (Dani's favorite and her mom's) and lastly, a bottle of sparkling apple cider.

But, today wasn't a celebration of thanks and gratitude to her mother. Dani wasn't even sure if she would come back next week for her seventeenth birthday. It was a silly tradition, she tried to convince herself over the years. Her father had brought her every birthday since she could remember to visit her mother. Early on, her brothers came with them, but the older Dani became, her father felt she needed special time with her mother without having the raucous of boys playing and shouting nearby. But since she got her driver's license last year, her father let her go by herself.

"Hey," Dani softly spoke, "I know, I'm early." She paused as if to hear her mother's unfamiliar voice. "I—I don't really know where to begin because, as you probably know, this past year has been the best and worst year of my life. And I'm not sure if that makes any sense."

Dani choked on a bubble that had formed somewhere between her stomach and throat, pinching off her airway. Stalling, she unfurled the blanket into the air, watching it flutter to the ground. As usual, she leaned her back against her mother's headstone, wrapped the blanket around her legs like an egg roll. She shoved her chilled hands into her warm fleece coat pockets and settled in.

"So, I guess for the most part, my life was normal until the last day of school before summer break..."

               ***************************

"Oh—my—wordy-word!" Jules exclaimed, leaning across the cafeteria table.

"What?" I asked, my nose face deep into a thriller novel I've struggled to put down.

"How—How can you just sit there?"

I peered over my book. Jules was staring at me like I was an unwanted hair on her dinner plate. "Is that a trick question?"

She pulled the book down from my face and nodded her head toward the table across from us. "Can he get any sexier?" Her face blushed, making her gray eyes turn blue.

My head fell to the right, knowing exactly who I was going to see. Lars. He moved here the beginning of the school year and quickly became the star quarterback, even though he's a junior like us. Then, he proceeded to date nearly every cheerleader until he won over the cheer captain, Marcia. Or maybe she demanded him to only date her. Either case, I've read enough teenage love fiction, pop-culture media and witnessed enough unscripted daytime drama at school to know, without a doubt, that he's mindless, heartless and lacks any personality whatsoever.

"Seriously? Jules, he's a puppet. Don't you wonder where he hides his stick and it's not this little wahoo." I pointed out my pinky finger as if I were referring to the size of his manhood. I sighed, wishing Jules would get over it already, as I pulled my book back up to my face.

Jules slapped her hands down onto the tabletop, making a loud popping sound that stopped all the chatter around us. "Wake up!" Her face folded in frustration as she stood forcefully from the table. "Why can't we have a crush on the same guy? I need some friendship rivalry or—or something! Year after year, I fall madly in love with someone that you think is positively gruesome. When are you going to shock me? Make me want to punch you in the face...other than what you're already doing?" Her pitchy voice carries naturally at normal levels, but her cutthroat tone amplified her disgust with me as it bounced off the cafeteria walls.

Slowly, I closed my book after placing my bookmark. I stood from the table knowing all the eyes of our fellow classmates were deadlocked on my next move like a game of chess. "If you're thirsting for drama in your life, I suggest trying out for the cheerleading squad. They share their boy-toys like a communal water fountain!" I smirked, grabbing my sack lunch before exiting the cafeteria.