Walking down the sidewalk is interesting. The spaces between them can be filled with anything. Like it could have gum, pennies, or it could be empty even though that’s pretty rare. They could also have little plants growing out of them. I was making this observation on the way to the mental hospital.
My mom works there. She is a good mother; she has always been there for me even though she spends a lot of time at the North Dakota Institution of Mental Health. I can still remember times when I was little and I had fallen down or slipped and she would be right there to comfort me.
I have always been jealous of her good looks that never got passed down to me. She has golden highlights in her eternally dark hair. It’s not just her hair I envy, I wish I had her laugh, the way she smiles, almost everything. It’s hard not to, her laugh is pure and her smile is always clean and friendly, even if she is annoyed. My mom’s eyes, though, are the best part. They are a clear snowy blue, able to freeze time or warm up your day. I can see how my dad fell in love with her the first time they met. My mother is beautiful.
My dad on the other hand, is the tough and strong kind of guy. His hair is a dark caramel. I have the same kind but it looks way better short. My father is tall and was once very handsome and good looking. Being a poetry writer 24/7 the white hairs are starting to come out and conquer my dads caramel hair. He has always been typing away on his computer and never seems to leave his screen. Not that I blame him, being under a deadline doesn’t seem fun.
They met each other at the bookstore on 27th street. My dad (also known as Palmer Spacer) was signing copies of his new book. My mom (Marceline La Rue), was, as she has told me, his number one fan of all time. So my mom got in the flooded line of people and waited. When it was finally her turn after what seemed like hours my dad saw her. He stood up right then and there and asked her out to lunch. Just like that they left the entire line of people waiting and went across the street. My dad said that that day he was so lost in her beauty he just had to ask her out right then or she could have been gone and he couldn’t risk that. He told me it was fate that brought them together that day and he wouldn’t change it for the world. Though I don’t believe in fate I found that very cute that he would never change anything. Being a cynical romantic, I’m not sure I ever will.
I love romance on the other hand. Romance, Love, all of that is my specialty. I know I can be harsh and not believe in stuff like true love and crap but I love watching it. I watch romantic comedies by the dozens and my bucket list for life is a bunch of old romance movies. Like 80’s and 90’s stuff, those are the best ones of course. Other 14 year old kids like to play outside and play sports but I would much rather like to sit on the couch with a movie playing on the big TV.
Sometimes l like to just sit down and think about anything, whether it’s school or a romantic movie I’ve watched. Usually its not school, I don’t believe sitting down in a desk being handed papers by the dozen is enough to think about. It’s nice to think though. My parents on the other hand don’t share my ideals. They believe I should get out more, make friends. Is it so terrible for me to have no friends? Not to my parents. They think it’s unhealthy for a teenage girl to have no friends to laugh with or to hang out with on the weekends. They should be grateful! Every other child with friends will eventually have to either be bailed out of jail after a crazy party or have to pay for some stupid thing they did to your house. I pointed this out to them but my mom only said to me “that’s not the point Caroline” while slowly shaking her head. At times I feel like they don’t listen to me. That’s my parents for you, complicated and confusing. I’m a simple child with simple needs. I mean I’m an only child, who by the way knows how to cook and can manage to take care of myself. Not that I like to always be alone. Every once in a while I do feel lonely but Baxter makes the feeling leave and replaces it with happiness.
Baxter is the cutest dog in the whole wide world. He’s a golden retriever that cannot fit into his head that he is a big dog. This results in him insisting to sit in my lap all the time. I don’t mind; he makes me feel loved that I have such a cute and great dog. His sandy colored coat and his huge toes can always turn around a bad day. He likes the mental hospital, but they won’t let him in unless he is with a patient.
The sidewalk suddenly gets bigger and the hospital is in sight at the top of the hill. The mental hospital is exactly what you think it would be. Clean, white tile floors with cream colored walls, and lots of rooms. The number of crazy people there would surprise you even though we are in North Dakota, which is not super populated. There are three floors; two house patients and the other one holds the multi purpose rooms. They have a spacious cafeteria, which serves a ton of interesting tasting food all the time, a game room with a bunch of old board games, and a TV that shows a lot of old movies, an exercise room with little equipment, and a poolroom decked out with a large inside pool and lawn chairs with padding.
It’s a nice place overall but the people inside used to scare me. One time when I was 7 I was walking to a lawn chair to grab my towel after swimming and a small bald crazy man being watched by a guard runs toward me with all his speed yelling “SHE’LL BE ONE OF US! AND SOON!” He had almost grabbed me too but his orderly tackled him just before he reached me. Haven’t really hung out in the multi purpose rooms since. I did, however, become friends with his orderly who saved me. We are friends; his name is Jerry Sachar. He is a tall man with blonde curly hair that never seems to stick to his head. Jerry taught me how to play chess and poker in the game room. He said it was important to know both, which was interesting to me.
I got to the mental institution pretty late being lost in thought. As soon as I got through the big automatic doors with the blasting air conditioning that came right after, my mom came running to me, looking quite angry.
“Caroline!” she yells quietly, we were in a place with some very crazy people after all. “I told you not to be late!”
Though I do not remember this I said a quick apology and she let me be. Now, usually I sit down in the lobby and do my homework but today I felt like just roaming the halls and thinking. So that’s what I did, hall after hall until I was pretty sure I got lost. Ugh, just wonderful right? I sat down on the cold floor, tired of walking and I looked to my left. A crumpled sheet of paper stared right back at me. I was curious so I grabbed it. That exact moment is when my life changed. I didn’t know it, but there was no going back.
YOU ARE READING
Caroline Spacer
RandomCaroline is a normal eighth grader. She has two parents and walks to middle school everyday. There are no surprises in Caroline's life... Until one day when she finds that crumpled piece of paper on the floor. It sets her life in motion, soon things...
