Ragged Petals

Chapter 2

*Halles POV*

                I ran quickly from his room, making sure Mr. Connelly didn’t see the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.  The hallway was already deserted, students doing their best to get out of the school in record time.  The only students I saw were a few who I liked to call academics, but were most often referred to as geeks or nerds.  I knew that all my friends would already be gone, unless they were here for detention.  I knew they would be driving off in their fancy sports cars to their fancy houses.

                I couldn’t tell Mr. Connelly why I didn’t do my homework, I thought as I slumped against my locker, my friends didn’t even know about my life outside of school and parties.  Mr. Connelly wouldn’t understand he would jump to conclusions and turn my whole world upside down, saying that it was ‘for my safety’ and ‘wellbeing’.  Although in my heart I knew that he would be right, I couldn’t tell him, not for some silly little assignment.

                I shook my head in frustration then groaned, and then yanked my locked open.  It opened with a loud creak, which echoed in the empty hall.  Inside my locker hung dozens of photos, mostly taken by those photo booths at the mall with my friends.  Almost hidden were two pictures that looked torn and aged.  I pulled out the photos and sighed.

                The one photo showed me and my mom.  I was maybe eight or nine in the picture, my mom in her late thirties.  We were standing beside a large oak tree, the sun illuminating our blonde hair.  This photo was taken at my mom’s best friend’s wedding; it was one of my happiest memories.  We were both wearing white dresses with turquoise blue ribbons tied around our waists.  My mom’s eyes were almost the same color as the ribbons and seemed to draw you into the picture, her smile shined brighter than the sun, she looked gorgeous.  But she always had.      

                The other photo was again of my mom.  She was standing in the middle of a canola field, spinning in circles with her beaming smile plastered on her face.  I didn’t know when this photo was taken; probably when I was very young, but it was my favourite picture of her, it captured her pure joy and spirit. 

                I magneted the photos back to my locker, making sure they were well covered.  I didn’t like to look at the photos all that often, because often when I did, I would start to cry.

                “Hello Ms. Preston!  How are you this wonderfully blustery day?” the school guidance councillor Mrs. Bridges suddenly appeared at my side.

                “I’m just fine thank you.” I quickly recovered from my trance. “I was just heading home actually, got caught up talking to a teacher about homework and lost track of time.”

                “Ahhh alrighty then.” She smiled. “I don’t often see any of… your crowd around after hours.” She said the word ‘your’ in such a peculiar way, as if the word had tasted bitter on her toungue.

                “Oh okay.  Well I care about my work more than most of my friends.  Well good night Mrs. Bridges!” I slung my bag over my shoulder and gave her a fake smile.

                “You too Halle dear!” she smiled, a little too enthusiastically for my liking.  I waited till she walked around the corner and the sound of her old granny-heels faded away, then with much hesitance I left.

                I walked home slowly, counting my steps as I went.  I knew my dad would be wanting food by five, so, I decided, I had enough time to stop by the cemetery.

                I walked through the old iron gate to the cemetery and went of the hill.  The law was perfectly manicured but was coated with a fresh layer of frost.  I looked up at the sky, only to see dark grey clouds above, and I prayed silently that it wouldn’t snow.  Saying that I didn’t like walking back and forth to school in the snow was an understatement.

                I read each grave stone as I walked by, looking at each of the names and dates.  Elloise Rider, read the first one, 1920-2002.  John Thomas, 1931-2007, said the next one.  William Bateman 1926-2010, Annabelle Gates 1980-2009, Elizabeth Lawrence 1968-2005.  I stopped at her grave.  The inscription read: Daughter, Mother, Friend, Loved Then, Loved Now and Forever.  I felt a pull at my heart then in barely a whisper I murmured, “Hi Mommy.”

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