I'd had the dream so many times before that even in my subconscious, I knew it wasn't real, that I would wake up and come back to reality the moment the first ray of sunshine streamed through my window. I tried to tell myself that. But it never worked. It always started the same way, a smaller version of me running through a field for a reason that I could never quite figure out. The silhouette of a young woman was always in front of the sun, arms outstretched as if she was waiting for me. I would be overwhelmed by this feeling of complete joy, as if everything was perfect in the world. The hearty laugh of a man would sound in the distance, and I would smell meat cooking, probably on a grill. "The burgers are ready, Rose!" the man would always call. The woman's head would turn towards the sound, and she would walk towards me, her paces much larger than my own. "Time for dinner, my sweet girl," she always cooed. I would reach up for her hand, my arm shielding my face from the sun, and turn to look up at her. Every time, I would see the eyes, her bright green sparkling eyes. And then, right when her face would start to come into focus...
The sudden beeping of my alarm clock almost caused me to fall out of bed. Ugh. I slapped my hand on the wooden table next to my bed with my eyes still closed, feeling around for the snooze button. It was nowhere to be found. I had that dream again, didn't I?
I groaned and sat up, opening my eyes slowly. The clock had somehow managed to shake itself off the table and onto the ground. I slipped out from under my warm comforter regretfully and picked it up, slapping it off. It's too late to go back to sleep now, I thought to myself as I shuffled over to the closet, catching a glimpse of my awful I-just-woke-up hair in the mirror.
"Why does the morning have to come so soon after I've just barely gotten to bed?" I groaned aloud, pulling open the doors to my closet. After looking around in the massive thing for a few seconds I pulled out a lace top and a pair of jeans from behind some wrinkled t-shirts, making a mental note to myself to do the laundry soon. The amount of dresses lying draped over the edges of the basket was getting ridiculous, something Mother never hesitated to remind me. My nightgown joined the crumpled heap. The sun was starting to come out now and I grabbed a hairbrush, brushing it through my long, thick hair as I opened the curtains wide.
I squinted at the brilliant yellow light peeking over the neighboring skyscrapers and sat down on the window seat, hairbrush still in hand, as I swept my eyes over the familiar view from the penthouse apartment of one of the tallest buildings in San Diego.
The city came to life slowly, the sidewalks filling with people and the streets crowding with the yellow roofs of cabs. A couple of little birds flew up near the window and pecked briefly at my bird feeder before flying away, free to go wherever they wanted to in the big, beautiful world. Someday I would fly like them, I promised myself. The same thing I'd been telling myself for years. I finished brushing my hair and put it into a loose braid reaching almost to the bottom of my back before standing up and going out of my bedroom.
"Mother? Are you in here?" No response. I pushed open the French doors into the great room and saw my mother, Sharon Johnson, sitting at the table and sipping a cup of coffee.
"Elisabeth, there you are. I'm glad you're up. I have to go to the office early today. Open the elevator, will you?" she asked, standing up from the table. It wasn't much of a greeting, but after living in an apartment with her for my entire life I was long adjusted to telling myself good morning, congratulating myself on good grades, and, some years, even wishing myself a happy birthday. No, Elisabeth, that sounds pathetic. Mother and I really did have a great relationship, and I was lucky to have a parent who supported all of my interests. Six years ago I wanted to learn how to dive after watching a few clips of the summer Olympics, and Mother promptly installed a pool. When I decided I wanted to learn how to watercolor, Mother didn't hesitate to buy me an instruction DVD and a set of some of the best watercolors around. I'd been taking pictures for years and Mother had gotten me multiple cameras as my skills increased.
"Elisabeth, stop daydreaming and open the elevator," Mother repeated, sharper this time. I looked up to see her standing impatiently by the shiny gold-tinted doors, tapping her foot and giving me a look.
"Yes, Mother, of course," I said quickly. I knew that look. It was not a good look. I followed her over to the elevator and slipped the key around my neck into the hole in the wall. The doors slid open silently and Mother stepped inside.
"I left you a note on the table," she told me as I slipped the key in again, closing the doors behind her.
"Have a nice day!" I said, just like I knew Mother liked me to. Once the doors were completely closed I relaxed and walked over to the table. A perfectly crisp sheet of Mother's stationary was sitting on top of one of the placemats.
Hi Elisabeth, I had to go to the office early today- sorry! I wish I could be here more often, but you know how work is- it's work! Anyway, I should be back by noon for lunch so we can talk about my new job. Don't forget to practice your flute! And your piano playing is, let's face it, awful. Work on that, too. And don't forget to study for your Spanish, French, and German finals. I'm fairly sure that those are at the end of the week. Mr. Johnson will be here by 10:30 for your English lessons. Kisses! Mother
I sighed. Another lonely morning until classes would start in a couple hours. "Mocha, where are you?" I called into the sunny kitchen. The sound of paws on wood came from the hallway and within seconds my brown lab was barreling into me. "Whoa, slow down there," I laughed, leading the way over to the pantry to get her some breakfast. "Mother didn't already feed you, did she?" I took her giant leap onto me as a no.
"Well then," I said, holding the bag of food out of her reach as I poured some food into her bowl, "Dig in!" Mocha pounced onto the bowl like a cat on a mouse, ignoring me again. Just like everyone else. No. I wasn't supposed to think that way. Mother wanted me to be positive. I wanted me to be positive.
I watched her eat for a couple of seconds before walking over to the radio, turning it on just to get the voice of someone other than me into the giant apartment the same way I did every morning. "Good morning, San Diego!" the announcer said enthusiastically as I walked over to the cabinet to get some cereal. "It's 8:15AM, the sun is shining, and the beach is wide open! So put on those swim trunks, enjoy the summer sun, and have a great day!"
"I'm not going to the beach today," I said aloud. "Or any day. Am I, Mocha?"
I poured some milk into the bowl with the cereal. "But that's okay, isn't it? Because we are just fine... up here... safe and sound, with the world just another picture on the wall." I put the milk away and leaned down to pet Mocha.
***
"Goodbye, Mr. Johnson! I'll see you on Thursday!" I called after my English teacher as I shut the door to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief. "That was the most boring hour of my life," I said aloud as soon as the door was firmly shut.
Mother had set the furniture up so that it all looked away from the windows- "Outside is just a distraction from what's important, in here"- but I turned around my favorite chair so it was facing the park across the street and sat down in it, enjoying the view. I pulled out the journal I'd been writing in for nearly ten years and flipped to the page I had marked when Mr. Johnson had arrived so I could continue reading. It all sounded similar.
"July third," I read, barely able to make out the seven-year-old handwriting. "Mother bought me new curtains for my room today. The city sure is pretty. We made spaghetti. Mother taught me about birds today and I told her I wanted to fly like them, but she told me that's silly. I think I can see some little girls like me playing way down there on the street. It looks like fun."
I skimmed through a few more pages, only reading an entry from every year or so. "February 27. Today Mother helped me with my embroidery. There was a little bit of snow out my window today, but Mother says it didn't stick on the road. They were talking about it on the radio because Mother says it doesn't ever snow here. Miss Nancy came to watch me when Mother was at work, but she fell asleep so I got to do whatever I wanted."
It was strange, I thought, pausing at the end of that entry. Miss Nancy had been a sweet older woman, but I hadn't heard from her in years. My last memory of her was her promising that she would take me down to the park sometime soon, and once I told Mother about that... What was it she said?
I flipped a couple pages further.
"March 4. Miss Nancy didn't come today and when I asked Mother why she said I was too old for a nanny. But I'm only 9! And Miss Nancy didn't even say goodbye. The house was really quiet today and I got scared."
That was right. Once Miss Nancy stopped coming...
"March 20. Mother got me a puppy! Her name is Mocha and I love her so much and the house isn't so scary anymore. Mother said if I don't clean up after her that she'll take her back to her own mom but I'm going to take care of her! Mocha is my best friend!"
I smiled and skipped another chunk of pages until I reached a date a few years later.
"September 14. The window washers came by today. I watched them for a long time, because they started at the first floor and then made their way all the way up to our apartment on the 36th and 37th floors. Mr. Tine came to teach me more math. It was pretty fun, I guess. He taught me about parallel line properties."
"August 2. I'm grounded. I'm not even supposed to have this journal, but what Mother doesn't know won't hurt her, right? I keep trying to make Mother take me outside but she finally snapped and yelled at me, and
Whoa. Mother just showed me a video to explain to me why I can't go outside, and now I feel terrible. She was right. People fly airplanes into buildings and shoot people and hit their kids and get robbed and it's AWFUL! I told her I was really sorry. She told me that I'm still grounded. Oh well. It was worth a try, right?"
"May 23. I learned how to hack into the TV today. I'm really scared that Mother will find out that I did. It seems like it's really not too bad out there. People go dress shopping in real stores and have lots of kids and fall in love and FLY! They really do fly! Not only in airplanes, either! I saw a couple flying in a big balloon and a girl flying in the air behind a boat, like a giant kite. It looks amazing!"
"April 30. I want a cell phone like the people on TV are always talking about, but Mother said no. She said I don't have anyone to call anyways. That's true, but I still think it would be fun to be a little more like them. I wanted to go outside today like I almost got to on my birthday last month, but Mother said it was too dangerous. I guess she's right, it is pretty dangerous sometimes. She's shown me a lot of scary news reports recently, about people dying. It's probably safer up here."
"January 1. It's a new year! I'm almost 16, and I really want to get my license, but I've never even been in a car, so I guess I would have some problems learning how to drive. Maybe I should start with getting Mother to let me to go downstairs to the park across the street first."
That was just a few months ago.
I was jerked out of my reading by a bark from the laundry room and dropped the notebook on the ground. "Oh no, Mocha! Sorry, I'm coming!" I ran to the laundry room, using the key on my necklace to unlock it. Mocha charged out, nearly knocking me over. "I'm sorry, but you know Mr. Johnson doesn't like dogs," I apologized to her. "And the laundry room is the only room that has a lock on the door. I'll get you a treat, okay?"
After giving her the little biscuit it seemed all was forgiven. "Mother should be getting here soon," I told her as the buzz of the intercom sounded. Right on schedule. Mother was always on schedule, always very prompt. "Elisabeth, it's me! Open the elevator," said her familiar voice.
I hurried over to elevator. "Hi, Mother, how are you?" I asked as the doors opened.
She brushed past me. "I'm fine, dear. Stressed, but fine. I brought cheese sandwiches for lunch. Pour us some lemonade, will you?"
"Sure, Mother. Just a moment. Do you think we could eat out on my balcony today?" I asked her as I brought the glasses of lemonade over.
"How about we eat inside today? I don't want to eat outside."
"Right. Okay. Yes. That's great too."
"Oh, and turn off that radio, dear, it's giving me a headache," Mother complained.
"Okay," I said, pushing the button to silence the radio before sitting down at the island next to her.
"So, how was English today? Did you practice your flute? What about Mocha, did you feed her?" Mother questioned anxiously.
"Um... good, yes, and of course," I said after a pause to register what she had said.
"Good," Mother said, letting out a sigh of relief. "But Elisabeth, remember to be prompt. Hesitation is a sign of self-consciousness and insecurity, you know."
Apparently she'd noticed the pause. She always noticed.
"Yes, you're right. Sorry." I paused to take a bite of my sandwich and she did the same. I carefully finished chewing before speaking again. "So, Mother, I've been taking some photographs of the city and the stars from my balcony. Would you like to see them? I have them on my camera, I can go grab them..."
"No, dear, I'm alright. Maybe another time. Okay?"
"Okay," I agreed, trying to keep my disappointment hidden as I turned the conversation away from myself, as it was polite to do. "Is Linda going to come over to chat with you today?" I asked. "She hasn't been around for, what, a week?"
"Yes, it has been awhile, hasn't it? I'm actually going to go out for coffee with her at four. You don't mind, do you? I know I told you we could do something together, but..."
"No, of course not," I said, trying to hide my hurt once again. "Um... do you think I could come? I am sixteen, after all-"
"I'd prefer if you stayed here, where it's safe," Mother interrupted me, breaking one of her own rules. "Besides, it might get rainy later. You can order pizza, okay?"
"Alright," I said, putting a smile on my face. Pizza's good, Elisabeth. Be grateful. "Can I maybe go out some other time?" I'd never been fantastic at being grateful.
Mother placed her hands in her lap. "Well, let's think about this for a minute. Have you ever been out before?"
"No... but there's a first time for everything, right?"
"Not in this case. There are reasons I've never let you go out, but you wouldn't understand. I'll tell you when you're older, okay sweetheart?"
"But you said that when I was sixteen, which I am now, I could-"
"No buts. I'm getting annoyed with you, dear. So please stop." She glanced at me and I shut my mouth. "Good. Glad we had this little chat," Mother said as she got up from the table. "I'm going to go take a nap in my room downstairs, so try not to be too loud up here," she told me, walking out from the kitchen.
"Okay, I hope you sleep well, Mother."
She waved her hand at me dismissively. I sighed and started to put away the dishes.
As soon as I finished with them I walked down the hall to my bedroom, Mocha trailing close behind. I need some fresh air, I thought, and pushed open the French doors to my own little piece of heaven. A few startled birds took flight from the railing, catching the wind under their wings. I hadn't gotten to eat lunch on the balcony with Mother home but the rush of moist air swirling around me made up for it.
The fire escape was merely two stories below, my key to getting outside tantalizingly close. Just a jump.... I could tie my sheets together, make a rope. It would be so easy. But I trusted Mother, and there was nothing down there for me anyway. Nothing for me to do, no life for me. My life is up here, on the 37th floor of a skyscraper, I thought to myself with a twinge of sadness.
I turned away from the edge of the balcony. "It's too hot out here anyway," I said aloud to Mocha, turning into my bedroom again. "Come on, let's go."
~*~*~*~
A/N: Congratulations! You made it through the first chapter of LDYH- feel free to comment and/or vote, if you want. I know not much (okay, no) stuff happened, but things are going to start to happen next chapter! Hopefully you've gotten to know Elisabeth a little bit, and again thanks so much for reading. It means a lot!
{3.5.2013}