The Year of April

Chapter 1

Everyone knows that a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. However, it can be harder to agree upon when these parts of a story are taking place. One person might think that a child with leukemia was at the end of her life, when in reality she would beat the cancer. Thus, her story is beginning while someone else might think it was ending.

Take my story, for example. Any stranger would have interpreted where I was in life -seventeen and a senior in high school -as the beginning of my story. I would have called it the end.

It was the year that I hit rock bottom, lower than I thought I had the strength to handle. It was not the year that my problems began. That happened long ago.

No, that was the year I tried to take my own life. And in doing so, that was the year I found it.

Like every story, the best place to begin is usually the beginning. However, it would take too long to start with "It was a beautiful spring morning when Shauna Cole gave birth to her third child, April, on April 14, 1996."

Instead, I'll begin my story one month before I attempted suicide. It's as good a place to start as any.

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"Pass to me, April!"

"Shoot April!"

"Man on!"

I rolled my eyes at my teammates' various instructions, ignoring all but the last comment. I dribbled around the defender before passing the soccer ball to a familiar blonde, the only open offender on my team.

After passing to Lindsay, I sprinted to just behind the sweeper, enjoying the familiar rush of wind through my ponytail, or what was left of it. It was second half, and we were tied with less than a short minute left. If neither team could break the tie in that time, our teams would have a shootout-which meant that we would all take turns shooting at the other teams' goalies; it was something that was risky and best avoided.

I watched with satisfaction as Lindsay juked out the defender that rushed to meet her. She dribbled about six feet before two midfielders that had pulled back tag-teamed her and stole the ball.

I sprinted toward the midfielder in the white jersey who currently possessed the ball. She made a decent play, kicking the ball high and far, designed to get the ball up the field to her teammate and away from the penalty box and her goal.

Years of practice took over and I jumped and headed the ball to Kailee, another girl on my team. Right as I did so, a defender in a white jersey jumped and tried to body slam me out of the way. She was a split second too late; her torso slammed into mine the moment after my forehead lost contact with the ball.

My arms reached out and caught me a moment before my face would have smashed painfully into the ground. I lay there in the sun-scorched clumps of grass trying to push myself up. But my arms were weak from the hunger and still shocked from the impact, and therefore not cooperating.

In the distance, I heard the unmistakable swoosh of the ball hitting the back of the net, accompanied by shrieks and cheers.

Mere seconds later, after I pushed to a standing position, the referee blew two short whistles, followed by a long shrill one, signaling the end of the game.

"We won!" the girls on my team screamed. I winced at the volume of their shouts, but a grin broke on my face, despite myself.

I ran to Kailee, the girl who had scored the last goal, and smiled at her. "Nice shot," I congratulated.

"Thanks," she murmured, then added, "great header, by the way."

I nodded my thanks.

Kailee and I had never gotten along very well in previous years. This was only intensified after I beat her for the spot of girls' varsity soccer captain. Whatever bitter feelings we might have had for each other, though, we tried hard to leave off the field because our rivalry would only weaken the team.

"Good game April!" Coach beamed at me. "Oh, but remember to pass back to your midfielders if Kailee or Lindsay aren't open. Work on that."

I nodded at Coach while mentally reviewing plays I had made this game in which I should have passed back to a midfielder. "Thanks, I will," I responded appreciatively before heading off to the locker rooms.

I stripped out of my forest green, sweat soaked uniform before stepping into a small shower.

I slumped against the wall and slid to the tiled floor, completely drained of any reserves of energy. I closed my eyes and let the warm water run over my body and ease my protesting muscles.

It was several minutes before I found the strength to stand up and get out of the shower. I dressed in the tank top and jeans I had thrown in my bag and stuck my damp brown hair into an I-could-care-less messy bun.

I rejoined my teammates who were also getting out of the showers and were discussing plans for after the game.

"Ice cream!" A girl shouted.

"I'm hungry!" Our goalie, Demi, whined. "I want real food!"

"What about Mexican?" Celeste, a midfielder, suggested.

Not wanting to try to eat with my teammates around, I asked, "What about Jonathan's? I hear he's having a party?"

Even though I used to be a huge partier, parties just weren't my scene anymore. Chase had changed that. Still, anything sounded better than trying to celebrate by gorging myself with food with my team.

Although some of the girls seemed to like my idea, mainly Lindsay and Celeste, our goalie eventually won. "I'm hungry!" She insisted.

The girls decided on pizza.

"Don't just stand there, April. Let's go!" Demi commanded. Damn, she's annoying when she's hungry.

"Actually..." I drawled, trying to think of an excuse, "I can't go."

"Why?" Lindsay frowned. I guess you could say she was my best friend. At school, at least.

Why couldn't I go, indeed? "Chase." I blurted without thinking.

"What about Chase?" Bianca asked. I liked her, despite the fact that she was Kailee's good friend.

I mentally chided myself for picking him as my excuse; Chase had to be the most lackadaisical guy in the world, or at least in my world. "He has to go camping with his family," I lied smoothly, "So this will be my last chance to talk to him for a couple weeks."

The girls ate up my lie, even though it was mid-September and school had already been in session for three weeks. The fact that he went to school in Montana didn't hurt though.

They all wolf whistled and winked at the mention of my boyfriend, except Kailee, who rolled her eyes.

"See ya later girls. Good job tonight!" I said, hugging Celeste as we all trudged through the parking lot to our respective cars. I hopped in my beautiful black Jeep and buckled up.

I was weak, and I hadn't eaten in far too long. Even I knew that. So I grabbed the bottle of green Gatorade from my soccer bag and chugged most of it, stopping when I felt the familiar nausea rise up in my stomach.

I took Main Street to the freeway and got off on the off ramp about a mile away from my house. Suddenly I pulled over to the side of the road, ignoring the angry yells and beeps of other drivers.

I was going to be sick.