I Don't Know
When I am lying down, sometimes I daydream. Today, I wake up in a meadow. The Grass is tall, and it reaches up to my waist, brushing softly against my bare lower legs. As I look around, I realize that I am surrounded by trees on all sides except ahead, where the meadow seems to expand forever. When the wind blows by, I realize how comfortably cool it is, and the sun is shining softly directly overhead. I don’t know where I am, so I look around a bit more. I notice the soft aroma of flowers, and the smell of freshly fallen rain. There are no animals around, just the waving grass and the tall maple trees. I notice a larger tree to the left of me, and as I get closer, I notice it is the only willow tree in sight. I come over, and see a shovel resting lightly against the side. I also notice a few holes around the tree, and decide to dig. The ground is soft, making it easy to penetrate the ground and dig. As I am digging in the first hole, I notice a shiny object in the dirt. I reach down and realize it is a locket. I open it, and look at the pictures inside. There are two, a young man, maybe 13 or 14, and an older man, maybe 32. The younger man has a slender face and jet black hair, which looks rustled and messy. He has a half smile, and light brown, commanding eyes. The older man has a more heart shaped face, and he has slender glasses, the type you might see on those Lenscrafter commercials. He also had jet black hair, but it was more set, with a part down the side and a curvy, tussled look. His smile was full and wholesome, and he had a thin goatee to shape it. I have a feeling as I hold the locket, and feel a deep connection to the people in the pictures. I put it on, and grab the shovel again. This time, I don’t have to dig very deep. I hit something hard, and when I pull it out, I am surprised to see a deep red brick. It looks worn, but not used. The corners are still sharp, and there is no cement on any of the edges. Not interested, I lay it back in the hole. I decide to dig one more time, and this time, I have to dig a much deeper hole, and finally hit something solid maybe 3 minutes later. It is an antique mirror, with an elaborate design along the handle and outside the mirror. It must at one time have been bright silver, but now it has a more aged look, and a little rust along the inside edge of the mirror. It was beautiful, but I figured I shouldn’t be greedy and left it, hoping the person who buried it finds it again. I walk back out into the meadow and decide to see how far it extends. As I start to walk, I notice a figure in the distance. I keep walking forward, and notice it is a man walking towards me. Now, I feel like I should have brought the brick… but I keep walking. When he gets close enough, I notice what he is wearing. He has on a plaid, short-sleeve shirt and a khaki jacket, along with a pair of sneakers and some cargo shorts. And I looked up to his face, and realized he was the older man in the locket. As he got closer, I noticed the look on his face. He almost looked like he had a question nagging at him. “Are…Are you Molly?” I do a double take, then answer cautiously. “Yes… Who are you?” He looked sad, and a little bothered, and he stared down at his feet for a little while before he looks up and answers. “I don’t know.” I didn’t understand, so I tried showing him his picture in the locket. “Look, it’s you, can’t you see?” He looked at both pictures, and then smiled. “That younger one looks like me, but the older one doesn’t.” I wish I had brought the mirror.
First Day Of School
When I woke up, my brain rushed. The air was seemingly warm around me, and I breathed deeply, almost taking in that this was my first day. I had already found my locker and set it up the day before, and met my advisory, so I was a bit calmer than the day before, but my mind raced. I got up immediately, even though it was a very early 5:32 in the morning. I showered, and everything seemed duller to me that morning, I could only think of the day ahead of me. I was so exited, but frightened. My mom came in and asked me if I was going to take the bus, or have her drive me again. I asked her to drive me, because I hated the thought of knowing no one on the bus. It was crisp outside, a warm September day, which was surprisingly quiet; I could hear my heart beating rapidly inside my chest. My head raced, all of the huge thoughts, questions, and experiences I had had in the days of the summer at summer school. As we drove, I got even more nervous, the air seemed to get more and more charged and tense, crushing me inside it. When we came up, I clung to my mom, hoping that she could just take the knots in my stomach away. But she just said she had to make her appointment and that I would be okay. So I walked up, and was instantly overwhelmed. There was music blasting and people were running around aimlessly, bumping into people and putting up papers on the lockers saying rules that were to be met, or demerits would be handed out. It seemed like a weird start to a day, so I tried my best to ignore it, because I knew I had to pack my bags for my classes. The air was almost electric; it was a huge amount of energy just flowing around everyone. The more I tried to focus, the more I became confused and increasingly tired. When the bell rang, I ran as fast as I could to the safety and quiet of my advisory, hoping I could get an explanation for the craziness around me. All the other girls looked as shocked as I did, so I felt a little less insane. Our advisor, Ms. Woo-Chitjian laughed and told us that it was just the senior prank, and assured a few girls that the demerits they were handed were all fake. All of us held our info about our classes, comparing what we had, and finding if any of us would have the same classes. One of my fellow advisees, Bella, shared almost the exact schedule, except for B, F, and I periods. We hit it off well, and went with the bell to our first classes. The schedule was weird, made to fit all of our classes into one very long day. We all held a photocopy of one of the planners first few pages, a map, and our paper of classes. You could easily tell who were the 7th graders, because we were overwhelmed, frantic, and freaked out! 3 minutes is a long time, but we felt like we had 3 seconds! At C period, I had free, so I went to my locker and ripped it apart so I could put it back together. There seemed to be a softer, lighter feeling in the breeze, and I calmed down. As with all of my classes, we just heard what we needed, got introduced, and the period was done. Everything felt sort of brittle, and cold at first, but as comfort sunk in, it felt smoother and less unfamiliar. As I met the teachers, the things that I noticed more were things like the style of their hair, and their sweaters, and I could really hear mostly nothing they said as I tried to comprehend if they were as stressed as I was. The day went slowly, but at the end of it, I was pleased with how it had progressed. When I got home, my mom asked how it was. Expressing it all would be difficult, so I gave her a simple answer. “Good.” That was it, simple and sweet. And so I went in my room and relaxed for once that day. Finally, it sunk in, and I just lay down on my bed and smiled, hoping that the next day would come sooner.
1336 Sixteenth Street
Why did he do it… why did he do it? “Molly, we are ready for you.” I want to get up and run away. Never look back and just run. “OK, I’m coming.” Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this, you are going to be fine. They just want to help you. “Ok Molly, you can just have a seat right over there. You are going to be interviewed by Detective Vonnie Benjamin and District Attorney Liliana Gonzalez. Don’t worry; no one is behind the mirror. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” “Thank you,” I reply quietly. Vonnie is so beautiful, her long, brown, tightly braided hair matches her amazing turquoise necklace perfectly. What a big contrast to this dull room… The chair I sit in is cold, cold like the crisp air surrounding the room. As my eyes scan the room, I become aware of the weird pink, cream, blue, and green walls, with what looks like painted confetti. I don’t see any parties happening here. The carpet is an industrial grey-green color, which adds no warmth to this already joyless room. Its fine, you’ve done this before. Third time’s a charm. Even though this is the fourth… “Hi Molly. We are going to make this as simple as possible so that you don’t have to do this again. So we are going to ask you some questions, and we want you to answer honestly.” Breathe in, breathe out… “Alright, we know this is hard for you, but tell us what happened on the 29th of October, 2007.” At least Peachie is here for me. I wish that this were easier to express… “What do you have in your bag? It’s all right if you take it out. A lot of children bring their comfort items here.” As I reveal my fluffy companion, the softening of their faces welcome me to tell my story. I hate him… I hate him with all my might… “Ok, so did he ever touch your person like that again?” Wait, did she say person? What does that mean? “Umm... no, I don’t recall that.” As Vonnie scribbled my speech on her notepad, I saw her handwriting, which was startlingly legible. “Is that all?” Let… Me… Out….“Yes, I Think so.” She looked at her companion. “Did he ever have a problem with drinking? Did he ever scream at you or physically grab you?” Yes, yes and yes… “Oh, sorry. I forgot about those things. Yes, he did all of those.” “Ok…” What is in fact a 30 minutes feels like a lifetime, maybe it’s recalling mine that makes it feel that way. “Okay Molly, we have all we need. We are going to bring your mom in now.”
One step… two steps… “Mom, they want to talk to you. I will be up in the loft.” My mom whispers in my ear, so soft it seems like silk. “I will be right back, tell me how it went when I’m done.” Now climbing up the stairs to the loft, my thoughts start to churn. Comfort comes like a mother cuddling a baby as I sit in the purple beanbag, worn down by secret thoughts of the many kids and the tears from their eyes. Lost in my thoughts and my iPod, Sophia Lund walks in. “Hey Molly, how did it go?” Who is that? Oh, it’s just Sophia. “Nerve wracking, but I’m a pro after 3 times.” She walks towards me. Oh god, here comes a long conversation over something I don’t care about… “It must be so confusing, loving him but hating him for doing that… Seems like it would be impossible to figure out, but no one i knew was like that, so how would I know.” I take out my earphones. Can’t she tell I want to sit here listening to my music? “I’ve kind of already made up my mind that I don’t care. I would rather ignore it, even though it is sort of childish.” No, I really hate him, but why can’t I say it? The conversation continues, and before I know it, we have talked for a whole half hour. As I delve deeper into my thoughts, they start to sort out. Why is my most prominent thought. Why does he have to be inm? Why is it me? Why is he who he is? Is it me? My head gets it, and now, so does my heart. No, it’s all him, not me, and I can’t change him or his behavior.
