Survival -Guardians of Vesturon [1] (4 page)

“Ugh! I hate this,” I groaned. “Just say that if they want to know they need to ask me. That should shut them up.” I picked up one of those pre-moistened facial cloths and started rubbing off my make-up. “And, for the record, I swear I’m not making excuses,” I said adamantly.

“If ya shay so. But it wouldn’t sprise me if dey all call ya. Ya know haw dey’ll keep afta you till ya tell dem sumtin,” she slurred out around her toothbrush and toothpaste.

“So what did you think about your date tonight?”

“Hang on.” Swish, rinse, ahh. “In a word: yum! No make that three words: I am in like!”

“Um, Cat? I think that’s four words,” I giggled.

“Oh, yeah!” she laughed.

“Oh, and I would never have known that by the way you were both draped over each other,” I teased.

“He was awesome! I had the best time,” she gushed, as her cheeks turned pink from excitement.

“Did you all hook up or anything?”

“Yeah, and he would have gone for more if I had let him. You know me, though, after my last disastrous experience, no encouragement in that area,” she added firmly.

“I wish they would just quit trying to do that; it gets so old. It seems like that’s the only thing they ever think of,” Maddie declared, rolling her eyes.

“Not all of them are like that, and Scott wasn’t like that at all. He was a real gentleman about it, and I am definitely ‘in like’ a whole bunch. He’s supposed to call in the morning. He said something about lunch tomorrow,” Cat said excitedly. “I haven’t been this thrilled about a boy in, heck, I can’t remember when!”

“Awesome! I hope he turns out to be exactly what you want. I’m going to crash; I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. Thanks, Cat. I know what you’re trying to do, and I do appreciate it, even though I may act otherwise.”

“I know and just a little FYI: I will keep hounding you about this whenever the opportunity presents itself. I’m just warning you. Good night, Maddie,” Cat finished.

“Night,” I said as I switched off my light. As I lay there, I thought about everything Cat had said. She was right, one hundred percent dead on. I had built up a wall around myself for protection. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel emotional pain for anything. I had my fill of that. But, she was also wrong about something. I did not feel a thing for Jonathan, or any other boy I had been with for that matter. When Jonathan had kissed me, I might as well have been kissing a brick wall. There was nothing there for me, no sparks, no butterflies, nothing at all. Maybe there was something wrong with me
,
I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning, I struggled to unglue my eyelids. For whatever reason, they did not want to cooperate with my brain in telling them to open so I could get up and go use the restroom. I rubbed them and manually pulled them open to find Cat sitting on a chair next to my bed.

I lifted myself to my elbows and accepted the cup of coffee she handed to me.

“Thanks. What’s the occasion? Am I missing something here?”

“No, but I am. You’re not going anywhere until I get some explanations from you. Maddie, what month is this?”

“It’s November. Why?”

“I’m asking the questions here. How long have you known me?”

“Since August. Why?”

“Huh uh. No questions. Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Why? What’s going on?”

She sighed, “Like I said, I’m the one asking the questions here. Okay, so you admit you’ve known me since August and you trust me and would you say we’re pretty tight?”

“Yeah!”

“Then why don’t you trust me enough to tell me why you cry every single night? Why you wake me up at night, sometimes, sobbing so hard, I can barely stand it? What is so awful that you can’t share with me? Because I’m telling you that I’ve had interrupted sleep for three months now; sometimes it’s so bad that I can’t go back to sleep because you whimper and cry the whole night through and yet you don’t think you can trust me enough to tell me what bothers you so badly that causes these nightmares. I want to know Maddie and I’m not letting you out of that bed until you tell me what’s going on.”

I looked down at my hands as they gripped the comforter. Cat was right. I had unfairly withheld this information from her and I owed her an explanation. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner and I’m sorry I didn’t. I dream about the day my dad died.”

I spilled my story to Cat that morning, but painful as it was, once I opened up to her, my gut-wrenching dreams began to fade away. It was my catharsis and when I was finished with my tale, I raised my eyes to hers and asked, “Can I please go to the bathroom now? I have
got
to pee!”

We both burst into tears of laughter and grief, and she crawled next to me in bed and held me as we cried.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I always wanted to but I honestly didn’t know my dreams were disturbing your sleep so much,” I sniffed.

“Come on,” she said, tugging my hand. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“Are you always hungry?” I asked, climbing out of bed and wiping my face.

“Yep.”

Thanksgiving arrived, and Cat’s family begged me to join them for dinner. After a ton of cajoling and enticing, I finally agreed. I didn’t want to intrude on them but the thought of spending Thanksgiving alone, threw me back in time, to painful memories that brought the darkness upon me.

One Year Ago

I spent Thanksgiving alone eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, so the next day, I decided to keep up our family tradition and buy a fresh Christmas tree. I went to the place by the YMCA, and picked out the best one I could find. The man who sold it to me tied it to the roof of my Jeep so that I could drive the six blocks home. When I got it home I had to get my neighbor to help me get it in the house. I had a doozy of a time trying to get it straight in the stand. After it fell over a time or two (well, maybe more like ten), I finally had it looking relatively decent. Okay, it wasn’t great, but it would do.

I pulled the decorations out of the attic and put some Christmas carols on, determined to make this a happy event for myself. Christmas had always been my favorite time of year, so I wanted to keep the great memories flowing. It didn’t exactly work out that way. After I got the lights strung and started hanging ornaments, I began thinking about the presents we normally had under the tree, and that’s when the sadness hit.

Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Maddie
, I kept saying to myself. But in the end, that’s not why I was so miserable. My heart was imprisoned by all the Christmases I wouldn’t have with either of my parents. It wasn’t the holiday that I had always craved; it was the closeness of the family relationships that I loved so much. I turned off the music and the tree lights and went up to my room. A week before Christmas, I took down the tree. It had become a symbol of something I could never have and made it nearly unbearable for me to walk in the room where it stood.

On Christmas Day, I woke up at five in the morning and decided to go for a run. I desperately needed to get out of the house, and I knew running would offer me an escape. As I made my way to the street, I could see a few houses in the neighborhood coming to life. Through the windows I saw glimpses of lights turning on and figures moving back and forth. I imagined the little ones waking up and dashing to the tree to check out what Santa had left them. Oh, how I envied them. It was still dark out, so I decided to peep in one of the windows of my neighbor’s house. Though it seemed kind of creepy, my desire to be near someone and watch their joy on Christmas morning overrode any hesitations I may have had.

The little kids were flying around, their cheeks pink with excitement. I could see their frustrated parents trying to calm them down so that there would be some sense of order. Chaos ruled in the end, and the little ones had a blast, wrapping paper and toys flying everywhere.

When the sun started to lighten the sky, I backed away, afraid of being discovered, like a peeping tom. I didn’t have the energy for a run anymore, so I went back home and changed clothes so that I could attend the early church service. I slipped in at the last moment and sat in the back row to avoid seeing anyone. I didn’t pay much attention to the service. I simply reminisced about the previous Christmas when I sat there with my dad. When it was over, I realized I had barely heard a word.

I couldn’t endure going home, so I drove around town for a while. Eventually, I ran out of places to go and ended up back at my house. I changed once again into some exercise clothing and headed down to the woods. I decided I would stay there as late as I possibly could. I ran and ran and ran until my legs felt like dead weight and my lungs were on fire. I ran to chase away the demons of despair, to forget about being alone, to remember the good times, and to release all of my sadness. I ran until I couldn’t run another step. I ended up on the big bridge over Lawson’s Fork Creek and sat there until it started getting dark.

I had lots of conversations that day with God, my parents, and the grandparents I never met. I begged for their help, because somehow, I knew there was a reason for all of this, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.

It was an oddity because when my dad was still alive, I always thought our lives were so full of everything—friends, family, love and so on. I never thought about it only being the two of us, never thought about not having any relatives to visit or cousins with whom to hang out. I was always so happy with him; it never dawned on me that being completely and totally alone was only a heartbeat, or lack of it, away.

The sun had set, and the darkness was rapidly encroaching when I pulled myself off the bridge and made my way home. By the time I unlocked the back door, it was pitch black outside and I was shivering from the cold. I was not the least bit sad to kiss that Christmas goodbye. I decided that day I would not spend another Christmas in that house. I was going to call the attorney, Mr. Dennis, to find out what I needed to do to sell it. I had to move away from there. I would buy a condo or rent an apartment or something. There were too many memories there. I needed to move forward in my life, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to if I stayed there.

The next morning I made the decision then to head up to the mountains. I would go on a two or three day hike, starting at Newfound Gap and heading toward I-40. It would be a great escape and help divert my thoughts away from the holidays. In fact, this would be my plan for all of my Christmases in the future. The time had come for me to move forward and make my life my own, with a new future, one that wasn’t overshadowed and burdened by the past.

My time in the mountains was well spent and upon my return, I put the ball in motion to move and surround myself with new things. I was quickly approaching graduation and the thoughts of establishing a new life for myself was uplifting. I was fortunate enough to be financially set, as my dad had ensured that with his investments and life insurance. I wouldn’t have to worry about finances for college, living expenses and would most likely have a nice nest egg for the future.

* * * * *

I yanked myself back to the present. My flashbacks tended to put me in a funk so I was relieved when I felt the darkness begin to lift. I was eager to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with Cat’s family; it would be something new and different for me. I would follow her to Asheville after classes finished on Tuesday and stay until Friday, when I would head down to Spartanburg, to check on things back home.

The Newman residence was wickedly wild on Thanksgiving, and I absolutely loved it! I had never experienced anything like it—a big change from all my past Thanksgivings. There were four kids in their immediate family, with Cat being second in line. She had two brothers and one sister. Then her five cousins and aunt and uncle were there, along with her grandparents. It was quite an event. Her mom was totally calm, cool and collected. I didn’t know how she managed it all.

All the women pitched in with the food. Cat’s grandmother brought the mashed potatoes, the sweet potato crunch and two pumpkin pies with homemade whipped cream. Her aunt made green beans and corn soufflé, and she also brought homemade biscuits and rolls.

Cat’s mom made everything else—turkey, stuffing, gravy, and all the fixings, plus a homemade chocolate pound cake. It was all so wonderfully delicious. I couldn’t remember ever being that happy…and stuffed!

We had a blast that night playing all kinds of games, and we ended staying up until two in the morning. Cat’s family was amazing! They were warmhearted people, and I envied their closeness. I would have to remind her of that when we got back to school. When my head hit the pillow that night, I felt like Harry Potter when he visited the Weasley’s. It was warm fuzzies all the way.

We woke up the next day around noon. I felt more relaxed than I had since before my dad had died. This visit with the Newman’s had been the most perfect time ever. I hated to think of leaving, but I needed to head to Spartanburg since I hadn’t been there since August. That afternoon I was headed home down I-26 for the rest of the weekend.

After all the activity in my dorm and all the noise and mayhem at the Newman’s, the silence at my house was a bit unsettling. I had so gotten used to having people around that I found myself craving the activity and commotion.

When Sunday finally arrived, I was more than ready to head back to Western. Catherine had beaten me back. I noticed her car in the parking lot. I grabbed my stuff out of my car and ran up to my room, colliding with Cat as she was headed out the door.

“Cat! Where are you headed?”

“I’m gonna grab a pizza. Wanna come?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

We headed to the local pizzeria and caught up on our weekend.

“So how was it?” Cat asked.

“Oh, it was great to see all my friends, but the house was scary lonely. The other thing, I don’t feel like I have as much in common with my friends anymore. And, if you can even believe this, I missed you!” I said.