Hey guys and gals, I'm really sorry for not updating sooner, I was very stressed with an English Composition class I was taking through PSEO, andd that consumed a lot of my time. Again, I'm sorry, I will attempt to update faster.
xoxo-- dacerfreak
I blinked and found myself standing in a forest blanketed with snow. My breath puffed out in clouds in front of me, and the cold nipped at my skin. A silent snowfall descended upon me and the forest. In front of me, a frozen pond lay. It’s water seemingly solid.
Then, out from the trees to my right, I saw the buck. The one with the white spot on his ribcage. His antlers were still growing, just hardly nubs on his head. He anxiously pawed the ground before stepping out onto the ice. My heart pounded in my ears. I remember this. This was not a dream or real life: this was a memory.
I opened my mouth to call to the deer to stop him from going too far onto the ice, but not a sound left my lips.
The young stag slowly moved out onto the frozen pond, unaware of the danger it was heading into. I stood stone still as I heard the sickening crack of the ice, holding my breath. Déjà vu happened all over again as I watched the deer’s legs stiffen as the ice beneath him gave way and he struggled to escape the freezing water.
But this time, as the deer fled the cold trap, he did not turn to look at me, but raced back across the still frozen part of the pond and stopped four feet away from me, puffing out his hot breath. His fur was wet and would have glistened in moonlight, had it not been snowing; instead, the flakes stuck to the fur, giving the stag a wintery gray look.
I was able to move now. I slowly raised my hand up in front of me to meet his forehead. His brown eyes sparkled as he stepped into the palm of my hand. The flatness of his head created a strange growth of fur on his forehead, making a swirling effect that felt like a peculiar texture.
I rubbed the swirl with the tips of my fingers, and then trailed them up to the nubs at the top of his head that were to be antlers shortly. He huffed out a breath and stamped his hoof as he shied away from the attention.
“I’m sorry!” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to go away yet.
The stag looked up at me with his brown eyes. His soft nose touched my arm then and he turned away. I followed close behind my friend, trying to look past him, but only seeing the forest and snow. It was a while before he stopped walking. We were very far away from the pond, a good two miles or so, and I was out of breath.
The stag turned then and revealed a clearing just ahead of us. In the middle of the clearing I could just make out a patch of green grass surrounded by the new snowfall. How was that possible? I took a step towards the grass and—
Woke up. It was a dream.
I sat up in my bed. It was the morning after getting back from Haiti. I glanced at my clocked to find that it was just after two a.m. I sighed and rolled back over in my bed, hugging my blankets tightly around my frail and dying body. I was shivering from the chill in my bedroom so much that I made the hasty decision to get up, skimper to the door and open it to allow some of the heat from the rest of the house to enter my room.
As the door creaked open, I saw a figure in the hallway. My heart skipped and I let out a small “eep!” before realizing it was my brother.
“Peter?!” I hissed. He looked at me half asleep, his hair tousled in a way that looked like a professional had styled it for a movie bed scene.
“Huh?”
“What are you doing up this early?” I whisper-yelled.
“Peeing. What are you doing?” he murmured back, sauntering over to my door to see me clearly.
“Not sleeping.” I said in reply. He appeared to be trying to remember something but couldn’t seem to grasp it.
“You’re really tan.” He said.
“Thanks.”
There was silence between us as he studied my face. I let him, only imagining what was going through his head at this moment. This could be one of the memories I hold of her once she’s gone… I swallowed and blinked. “Well, goodnight.” I nudged him with my fist and then headed to bed.
I was just getting warm when I felt the end of my bed dip with the weight of my brother. He switched on my lamp. I squinted against the harsh light to see what lay in his hand. It was my phone. I had left it here while I was gone because I wasn’t going to use it in Haiti.
The instant I saw it, my heart sank. “What’d you do, Peter?!” I snatched it away from him and went to the messages.
Peter grabbed it back and turned the device off. “Your friend called when you were gone, wondering where you were.”
“Parker?” I asked as a spark of hope lighting in my heart. Had he recovered since I was gone?
A shadow of an emotion flashed across Peter’s face before he shook his head. “Jason.”
I had spent a lot of time thinking about those two boys on my mission trip, way more than I should have. Too much drama was filling my life, and I hated it. I didn’t know if I should trust Parker, or listen to Jason and what Leo said.
Peter nodded. “As did the school. They got the recording of a fight that you witnessed. The morons were right across the hall from a camera.”
“What?!” My head was spinning as the image of Jason holding Parker against the lockers reentered my mind. My throat was closing up and my lungs burned as though they were swimming in acid. That video footage could be the end of my worries. Or just the beginning of them. With that footage, Jason could be persecuted for beating Parker, and then I’d have that weighing me down. I realized then, that I needed to blog. For two reasons: A) I haven’t done so since before leaving for Haiti, and B) because it seemed to be a stress reliever. Whenever I blog about anything, like the issue when Peter was ignoring me, I still felt like crap, but it was the kind of crap I could handle.
“Are you listening?” Peter snapped.
I jumped slightly when I noticed he was still sitting in front of me.
“They called yesterday and want you to come watch it as soon as you can.”
“What?” I said, confused. “Who?”
“Molly, the school.” He said irritably.
“But you said something about Jason..?”
Peter took a deep breath, I was frustrating him. “Jason woke up from his coma the day after you left. They say he broke four ribs, his wrist, and may be paralyzed from the waist down. He also received some brain damage, but you knew that.”
“He’s paralyzed?!” I sank into my bed. How restricting would that be?
“That’s what they said, Moll.” Peter said, but there was something in his voice that caused me to look back at him. There was a glint in his eyes that made me question the authenticity of his last statement.
“What do you mean?” I asked slowly.
“I visited Jason the other day.” Peter spoke slowly, torturing me by wasting the time with his sluggish speech. “And he’s already started therapy. Though he’s having difficulty with his voice, he’s made impressive progress. He asked me—after several attempts due to his gradual speech—asked me to bring you to the hospital when you get home. He said he needed to talk to you.”
“How’d he know it was you?” I asked, it was the only thing I could think of.
“Because we share Geometry.” He paused before going on. “And as I visited him, he paraphrased what happened between you, Parker and him.”
“No.” I held up my hand to stop my brother from going on. “Peter, I don’t want you in that crud.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care, Molly. You’re my sister, and I’m not going to back off because you want me to. I am going to protect you whether you like it or not.”
I bit my tongue before saying anything that would totally ruin that perfect, beautiful short speech he just made. I was so proud to call this boy my brother.
“But as I was saying, he told me what happened, and that you didn’t believe him because you didn’t hear what was said.” He stopped reciting what Jason had said and popped his own opinion in; “which I don’t think you should know of anyway…”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Peter glanced at me to make sure I was serious. “He said Leo told you.”
I scowled remembering Christmas night’s conversation with Leo. “Leo told me that Parker was a jackass and that Jason was doing something stupid.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled with great dramatic effect, and I stared at him expectantly. My arms were still cold, but they had long gone numb since our conversation had begun. “Moll, you’re in a mess.”
I had to let out the breath that was caught in my lungs to laugh at his timid comment. But he didn’t laugh and I was forced to ask. “What do I do?”
That’s when the clown tossed me my phone. “Call him.”
· * * * * * * * * * * *
Peter sat on my bed as I listened to the ringing tone on the other line. On the third ring, Jason answered. “Peter. Man, it’s like—erm, three in the…” There was a pause where he was literally struggling to find his vocabulary. I said nothing and Peter looked at me.
“Morning.” Jason finished.
I was unsure what to say as his voice died away on the other end. I looked at Peter who just shooed me with his hands as if to tell me to keep going. Keep going with what?! I have nothing to go on!
“Peter?” Jason asked hesitantly.
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth. But I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, I didn’t know what to say! I hung up before the silence swallowed us even longer.
“What was that?” Peter accused.
“I don’t know!” I replied, my chest heaving. I was overwhelmed with the situation. It was too early to be doing this. The phone in my hand started buzzing with Jason’s name on it.
“Answer it!” Peter said, pointing at my phone.
“You,” I said, holding it out for him to take. He crossed his arms, pursed his lips and shook his head. The phone rang a third time and I finally answered it.
“Molly?” Jason’s voice sounded anxious.
Peter’s face was passive; there was nothing to read on it.
“Yes?”
There was a pause where I heard a muffled noise, like a word was caught in his throat. “I didn’t know you were back.” He finally said in one rushed breath.
“Hardly,” I said, not sure how this was going to do anything. “So you and Peter had a little heart-to-heart while I was gone?”
Peter facepalmed his forehead and I stuck my tongue out at him. I heard a chuckle from Jason’s end of the line. “Yeah…He’s helped…” he struggled. “…with a bunch of my…erm…” He sighed with frustration before finding the word. “…my progress.”
“Progress?” I asked. “What do you mean?” I looked at Peter, but he was avoiding eyecontact.
“Come visit this afternoon, Molly. Please.”
“Jason,” I said. “I-I don’t know…”
“Alright, I’ll….see…you later.” He said before hanging up. Peter got up from the bed and headed out the door, ignoring me.
“Peter? What progress? Why does he want me to visit him? Peter!”
He gave me a sweet smile and closed my door with a final “Goodnight, Moll.”