The Sky Grows Grey ~ Chapter 1

I sat in my desk in my high school classroom horrified of the news my dad shared this morning. The cold air outside chilled me to the bone, but it wasn’t as cold as the words that were coming out of Daddy’s mouth. I couldn’t wrap my head around what he wanted to do. My mother would be released from the mental institute next week. Apparently, Daddy was secretly visiting her throughout her one-year stay. Why did he choose to hide this fact from my brother and me? We should have known what was going on. Was it because he knew that neither of us wanted to be anywhere near our mother? Would we ever be able to forgive her for what she had done? I knew it would be easier for my brother than what it was me. The steam escaped from my mouth and drifted in front of my face as I tried to fight off an anxiety attack. Normally, my dad would take me to school when it was cold, but I couldn’t stand to be in his presence any longer. Without a response, I quickly walked to school that cold winter’s morning. The yellow grass and weeds crunched with every step leaving a trail of yellow in my wake. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I batted my lashes to fight them off. My fingers were numb and ached due to the frigid temperature, and my bare legs between my tight mini skirt and my boots were modeled a bluish red color and goose pimpled.

All morning, I couldn’t concentrate in class. I was glad to get to Mr. Armstrong’s class because he didn’t care what we did in his class as long as we were quiet. He sat at his desk reading his paper pretending to teach while we pretended to be model students. His paper usually blocked his view into the rest of the classroom. The pale green walls were bare, as was the classroom. Mr. Armstrong was not into decorating or posting anything in his classroom. He was near retirement and had burned out from teaching long before any of us had entered high school. I could easily tell that this man had once been a tyrannical teacher. His face was fixed into a permanent scowl from years of frowning at his students. The lines and wrinkles on his face accentuated the down turned skin around his mouth. Even when Mr. Armstrong laughed, it looked as if he were frowning. I swear that Mr. Armstrong had bought five of the same shirts and five of the same slacks for his wardrobe. The only movement he made throughout the fifty-five minutes of class was when someone made a loud noise or when it was time to turn the page of his newspaper.

Two couples were necking in the back of the classroom next to the bare bookshelf in the corner, several students were writing notes back and forth to one another, and I sat in horror. Noticing the solemn look on my face, Shane passed the little brown glass vial of coke to me. I stuck my long red pinky nail down into the white powder and took a quick sniff. My pulse quickened and the world began to melt away. I tried to forget about what Daddy told me when he caught me off guard before school, “Your mom will be moving back in with us on Monday,” but I couldn’t shake the devastating news. When the bell rang, I gathered my things and quickly exited the back door of the classroom. The hall was crowded and noisy with the sounds of students, laughing, talking, and fighting. Some guy I had never seen before was shoved into me as I tried to make my way around the fight. I shoved him back and picked up my pace.

“Hey! Wait up!” Shane said. “Did you forget to give something back to me?”

“Oh, sorry,” I answered as I paused in the hallway. It took several seconds for Shane to reach me because the little fight had turned into a full out brawl. Fists and arms were swinging in the air as more people joined the violence. The girls stood back squealing and the crowd around the fight made it impossible to see who was fighting who or who was winning. The crowd also prevented the panicked teachers from being able to get to the fighting students and break the fight up. When Shane finally reached me, I handed the vial back to my best friend. I turned and walked away.

“Girl, I know you didn’t just do that! What are you doing walking away from me?” he asked.

When I turned back around, I could see the perplexed look on my friend’s face. “Oh, Shane, I’m so sorry. I’m just a little distracted today. What are we shooting today? Are you interviewing or shooting? I forgot whose turn it is.”

“Girl, we’re not shooting or interviewing anything today! Remember? …prom committee meeting. We have a prom to prepare for,” Shane couldn’t help but grin as he replied. “What gives? I’ve never seen you like this before. Is that cute boyfriend of yours giving you trouble?” Shane often could read me pretty well.

I giggled and replied, “No, Shane, of course not. He treats me like a queen remember.”

“Yeah, it just about makes me sick. I wish I could get someone to treat me like a queen.” We both laughed. I always loved being around Shane. He wasn’t only my best friend, but he was also my confidant and fashion stylist. He had once told me when I first started dating my boyfriend to be careful. When I asked why, he never gave me a suitable answer. I figured that Stephanie had told him something horrible about my boyfriend since he hung out with her when I wasn’t around, and she used to date my boyfriend. However, I also know that Steph would do anything to break the two of us up because she felt that my moving to town is the reason she lost her boyfriend to me. I had no idea that he had a girlfriend when we first met because he never talked about her.

Talking to Shane seemed to work, because I didn’t think of my mother until late in the evening when the phone rang. The prom committee meeting went well. No one wanted to gouge someone else’s eyes out, and we settled on a theme – One Night in Paradise. I went to work, and then I was off with my boyfriend. I loved working with him, but sometimes he was harder on me than he was the guys because he didn’t want them to think that he was giving me a break. My brother and his brother worked with us as well. However, they didn’t work with us every night. My boyfriend and I worked together every time that we worked.

After work, we went to our secret place, the house of a friend of ours. It wasn’t a nice house and it was very tiny, but it was perfect for a single college student. The house only had two rooms, but William used the furniture to break the rooms up. He had a couch and TV in the area just inside the door. There were tall wooden bookshelves in-between the couch and the queen-sized bed. The space between the shelves and the wall was about the size of a doorway. On the back of the bookshelves, a large batik painted tapestry of a sunrise hung giving the bedroom area the illusion of having a solid wall. On the other side of the bed, there was a door that led to the bathroom, the only other room in William’s house. Next to the bathroom wall, there were two more bookshelves that sectioned off the kitchen from the bedroom. In the little doorway areas William had made, he had wooden beaded curtains hanging. On the other side of the bookshelves between the bedroom and kitchen, another tapestry hung. This one was of his favorite band, Metallica. William was out most nights and would let us crash at his place any time we wanted. It was kind of a pain, though, because I had to tell Dad where I was at all times. I never lied to him though. I made sure that he always knew where I was and who I was with.

This night was special; it was our three-month anniversary. We held each other tightly as we made love. Afterward, my boyfriend doctored the burn on my foot that I had received the week before when the filtering machine tipped over at the restaurant and hot oil melted the sock to my foot. The burn was tender, but I paid no attention to the pain. I could tolerate more pain than most people due to my high pain tolerance. Tonight was to be the first night that we would spend the entire night together. I cuddled close to his long slender body, laid my head on his bare chest, and fell into my deep slumber listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I’m not sure how long I had slept when the when the phone rang. I stumbled in the dark to find the phone. “Hello?”

“You need to get home right now,” Daddy said. His voice sounded panicked, and his words were shaky.

I couldn’t imagine what he was so upset about. It couldn’t have been me. “Why? I told you where I was going and gave you my boyfriend’s cell number. You said it was fine,” I replied.

“No, it’s not about that. It’s your brother! I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I told him about your mom. He stormed out of the house, and with the rain, I am afraid that something bad has happened,” Dad stated nervously. “I know that you know all of Buddy’s hangouts and friends. I could really use your help.”

“Yes, Daddy, I will bring him home if I can find him,” I stated reassuredly. Please, promise me that you won’t be too hard on him though. That’ll just run him off again.”

“I promise, just hurry.” Daddy was good at keeping his word these days. He had stopped drinking and smoking pot a few years ago. Child Protective Services had told him that if he didn’t put an end to his alcohol and drug abuse, he would never see his children again. My sister had already moved out of the house at fifteen, and I wasn’t too far behind her. Daddy didn’t want to see me give up my dreams because of the abuse, so he turned down the straight and narrow as much as he could, anyway.

I know that it was a struggle for Daddy to stay away from the bottle each and every day. Sometimes, I would catch him with beer on his breath or his pupils would be unusually dilated. Going to church was a bust, and he quit going to Alcoholics Anonymous. However, we never saw him drunk again, at least not the way we were accustomed to. Sometimes, he would be so desperate for a drink that he would buy my brother and me some wine coolers to drink with him.

I was a lot like Daddy, quick to temper, but it took a long time to set either of us off. We were rather laid back and easy to get along with for the most part. Once I blew up at you, that was it. It was over and I never, ever held grudges, not the way my mother and sister did. Also, I wasn’t the typical high school drug and alcohol user. You know how the public service announcements on TV tell you that you know your child is a user if their grades drop, and they lose interest in school and activities? Well, that wasn’t a bit true with me. I was still the president of the pep squad, an award winning solo clarinetist and the drum major, the editor of my school paper and yearbook, an award winning computer programmer and writer, and a straight A student. Outside of school, I held down a full time job because I had to help Dad with the bills and buy groceries, and I was a fashion model. Daddy knew that I drank and smoked. He also knew I did drugs, but it didn’t phase him because I knew his secrets too, not that I would ever use them against him as my sister would.

No matter what Dad had done to us, it was nothing compared to what Mother had done. I could forgive Daddy, because he admitted his mistakes. He asked for forgiveness for all of the mean and nasty things he said to me and for all of the horrible things he had done, but Mother would never admit she had a problem and never admit that she was wrong. She always swore we deserved everything we got for being such horrible children. As my boyfriend drove down street after street looking for my brother’s car, I remembered what caused my mother to get sent so far away.

…I laid on my stomach in middle of the living room floor of Sarah’s tiny house with her new baby, when the phone rang. The baby was lying in his diaper on the black fur coat I had given to Sarah. I had promised her that I would babysit because she was called into work and the regular babysitter had plans for the night. I loved playing with Sarah’s son and was anxious for the time I would become a mother. I jumped to my feet and headed for the kitchen. I answered the phone to a shrieking voice on the other end, “GET YOUR LITTLE WHORE ASS HOME RIGHT NOW BEFORE I COME AFTER YOU!”

I was truly scared of my mother. She was very tall for a woman and towered over me. The kids in my school teased all of the girls in my family that we came from the Amazon Women tribe. I was the only one that was shorter than six-foot tall. Compared to the other women in the family I was tiny and petite at five foot nine inches and one hundred and thirty five pounds. My mother was six foot one, with broad powerful shoulders. The top of her long legs reached right below my breasts. I was tiny compared to her two hundred plus pound body. Mother wasn’t fat or even chubby. She was well proportioned and very beautiful. Her cinnamon colored eyes and long lashes caught the attention of many gentlemen throughout her life. Mother’s skin was dark and her hair was wavy and coal black. My grandmother is of the Creek Nation, which accounted for the darker skin tone. Mother’s skin glowed a golden brown with a hint of red. She wasn’t as dark as most Native Americans I knew, but she was dark enough to look as if she always had a beautiful tan. My mother hardly ever wore makeup due to her beautiful even complexion. Her beauty lied to people we knew. It hid all of the pain and evil she was capable of. Her beauty failed to show the terror she evoked in her children. I trembled as I replied, “Mom, remember, I asked you if I could watch Sarah’s baby tonight. I need money for my school project since you made me quit my job.”

“IT IS NOT MY FUCKING FAULT YOU HAD TO QUIT YOUR JOB. I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE AROUND YOUR FUCKING IGNORANT SISTER,” my mother screamed. “If I let you continue to work with her boyfriend, you will end up being a whore just like her. She’s the one that was fucking your boss, not me. Fucking get home now, OR I’M COMING AFTER YOU!” My sister was in love with my boss, and one night the two of them got drunk. I had left my sister at the small steak house where I waited tables and got a friend to give me a ride home. My mother was angry with me that Eliza didn’t return home with me. She was supposed to be grounded and only had permission to take her car back and forth to school, her job, and my job. It was way past curfew when my sister stumbled in the front door. Mother jumped up from the couch and immediately took after her with a belt. The next morning Eliza moved in with my grandmother; she was only fifteen.

“What am I supposed to do with the baby?” I asked.

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU DO WITH THAT LITTLE BASTARD. THE STUPID MOTHER FUCKER CAN DIE FOR ALL I CARE.”

“Momma, I can’t come home until I can get someone else here to watch Alex. I’ll call Sarah’s brother right away. Bye.” I quickly hung up because I knew she wouldn’t like to be kept waiting. She had also been complaining about Sarah’s brother, who lived in the next town over, and it would be a good fifteen to twenty minutes before he could get to Sarah’s house. After only ten minutes, there was a banging on the door. I knew that it must be Kenneth, Sarah’s brother. He always liked to spook me by pounding on the door like mad when I was at Sarah’s alone.

I ran to the door, opened it and said, “Kenneth, stop!” before I could stop myself. The smile faded from my face, and I knew instantly that I had made a horrible mistake.

“KENNETH!!!!” My mother slapped my left cheek setting it aflame. The impact stung but it wasn’t anything compared to what she could have done. “FUCKING KENNETH BETTER KEEP HIS GRUBBY LITTLE PAWS AWAY FROM YOU,” Mother screamed. She always thought the worst of people, especially when it came to men.

“Mom, I thought it was Kenneth. I called him to watch Alex,” I replied.

“Stop your fucking lying you fucking little whore! You are just like your sister aren’t you? You’re fucking him! You are going to end up with a little bastard like your fucking little friend! I don’t know why I fucking bother! You are just a stupid little whore,” she said. “You aren’t worth the salt in my fucking tears.” My mother really believed the things she thought were true. She never gave me the benefit of doubt. Mother was convinced because my sister did something, I did too. Eliza and I were only eighteen months apart, and she was just a grade ahead of me at school. She was bipolar just like Mother, and neither of them would ever admit that they had a problem. Eliza was out of control when she was at home, but she was better now that she lived with Grandma.

“Momma, I promise. There is nothing going on between Kenneth and me. I swear.” I did have a crush on Kenneth and often thought about going out with him. He was kind and thoughtful. He had done well in school and had never been in trouble with the law. However, I knew that my mother would never allow me to date, especially not Kenneth. I was a junior in high school and was the only girl in my class that had never been on a proper date.

Mother reached for the back of my head and grabbed my long ponytail. She pulled my hair back as far as she could, reached around her back, and pulled a gun from behind her. Tears were already blurring my vision as she put the gun to my temple. I wondered where Mother had gotten the pearl handled .22 revolver she had pointed at my head. I had never seen it before and had a feeling the gun was acquired from her boyfriend who was a police officer in the next town over. The cold metal was pressed so tightly against my temple that I thought I would bruise from the pressure. “You fucking whore! Don’t you fucking lie to me! That bitch and her punk ass brother keep you around just so they can use you! You are better than them, and you don’t belong here!”

I never believed I was better than Kenneth and Sarah. Sarah worked hard at the local burger joint to support her son. Last year, when we were sophomores, Sarah was engaged to be married to the captain of the football team. She adored him, and it seemed he adored her until she got pregnant. After learning of her pregnancy, he dumped her. He was getting a football scholarship in North Carolina, and he did not want a new wife and a baby to hold him back. Sarah went to school during the day, and the government paid for her daycare. She only worked part-time in the evenings during the week. She chose not work on weekends because she wanted to spend time with Alex.

Kenneth was Sarah’s fraternal twin, and he dropped out of school over the summer. He noticed how much his sister struggled with bills and caring for the baby, so he took a job to help her out rather than finish school. Kenneth got his general equivalency diploma over the summer to help him get a job. He still lived with their parents and planned to go to college after Sarah graduated high school. It was the fact that Sarah had a baby, and Kenneth was a dropout that Mother didn’t like. “Momma, they aren’t bad people. They’ve just had some bad luck,” I said.

My mother cocked the hammer of the revolver. I quickly realized that I knew better than to backtalk mother. “You are a fucking liar just like your God damned sister and your God damned father! All of you fucking O’Brien’s are the same. You are all fucking trash, and I am fucking ready to get rid of all of the fucking garbage in my life.” My mother had never liked anyone in Daddy’s family, and she kept us from them as much as she could. It hurt to see how close my other cousins were to my grandparents and each other. I wanted more than anything to be part of more than just Mother’s family. Don’t get me wrong. I loved each and every one of them very much. I just wanted to be a part of Daddy’s family as well.

Kenneth pulled up in his old beat up 1972 pick-up and slammed the truck into park. He ran up behind my mother and hollered, “Hey, Carrie! What are you doing? Now, things can’t be all that bad!” Kenneth had worked with my mother at the local grocery store, and she was the one who first introduced me to him during the summer before our sophomore year. I had already met Sarah because she went to my school and because she ran around with the same people I did. Kenneth never transferred from the school in their tiny town to ours. The school district allowed the transfers because our school offered more classes than theirs. Mother had liked both Sarah and Kenneth before the pregnancy.

My mother quickly swung around on the ball of her foot and fired off her first shot toward Kenneth. As she did, I screamed and neighbors came running out of their house to see what all of the commotion was about. Kenneth’s body crumpled to the ground as he fell to his knees, and time slowed down for a second. The neighbors stood by helplessly as they held back their children and watched the grizzly scene before them. Dust flew up from the impact of Kenneth’s knees on the crumbled red clay driveway. A low grunt escaped from his mouth when he landed. He grabbed his left shoulder and a red stain quickly began to soak through the light blue denim. Kenneth pulled his hand away and looked down at the crimson blood that hid his pale flesh.

My mother turned back around, yanked me by the hair, and I stumbled and lost my footing. She moved quickly as she dragged me on my back kicking and screaming towards her pickup. The rocks, clay, and weeds ripped the skin from my lower back, and blood rushed to my scalp as I felt the hairs on my head breaking loose from my scalp. The pain was evident, but not unbearable. I tightly squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to loose myself in my thoughts. Mother stuck the hot muzzle of the gun right under my right eye next to my nose. I gasped as the heated muzzle burned my skin, but I didn’t let her see any fear or any tears. I held it all back the best that I could. “GET THE FUCK OFF THE GROUND AND GET IN THE GOD DAMNED PICKUP BEFORE I KILL THAT FUCKING LITTLE BASTARD LAYING ON THE FLOOR IN THERE.” She pointed to back to the house.

Oh, God! Somewhere in the commotion, I had forgotten about Alex. “I can’t leave the baby by himself! What if something happens?” I hollered loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It broke my heart to leave him lying like that, wailing at the top of his lungs. The sound from the shot must of startled Alex. I knew that the little old lady next door would take care of him until Sarah got home if she knew. Sarah only left Alex with the sweet woman only in dire circumstances. She was worried that the lady’s frail frame would give and something would happen to Alex. The scene that played out would definitely qualify as a dire circumstance, so I knew that Sarah would understand. I eased my tender body in the passenger’s seat of my mother’s pickup, and I winced when the hot seat touched my back.

My mother pulled back the gun from my face as she said, “YOU ARE NOT GETTING OUT OF THE FUCKING TRUCK UNTIL I SAY SO, OR I’LL MAKE SURE BOTH YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND AND THAT FUCKING BASTARD ARE DEAD.” I slipped my hands under my thin thighs so that she couldn’t see them shake.

Kenneth looked toward me with a pained expression. I mouthed, “Stay down” as my mother slammed my door and walked around the back of her truck to the driver’s side. I had never seen Mother this bad, and I was afraid she meant what she said. Kenneth lowered his head and stayed on the ground. “What did I do?” I asked as my mother shut her door. The butt of the gun struck me between my nose and my upper lip. I could feel the skin swell as blood gushed from my mouth. I put my finger under my lip and two of my teeth wiggled.” I remembered the last time my teeth were knocked loose, the dentist told me not to touch them and they’d eventually tighten back up. I hoped that would be the case this time…

About a block from Kelly’s house, I saw my brother’s car in a flooded ditch. I had figured Buddy was at his girlfriend’s, but I did not expect to see the front his car under the water. I jumped out of my boyfriend’s still moving truck and yelled out for my brother. My boyfriend came to a complete stop, and he shoved the gearshift of his little white pickup into park. From behind, my boyfriend grabbed hold of me as I neared the deep ditch. I tried to fight him off as I cried, “Buddy! Buddy! Are you okay? Where are you?” I panicked as I watched the rushing run-off from the storm wash over the car pulling farther and farther into the six to seven foot ditch.

“I’m fine, and I’m right here,” Buddy hollered from behind me. My boyfriend spun us both around, and lowered me to the ground. I was overfilled with joy when I saw my brother and Kelly standing behind me.

I ran to Buddy, and I had to tiptoe as I threw my arms around his neck and said, “Oh my God! I thought you had drowned.” I let go of him backed off, and shook him. “What in the hell did you think you were doing running off like that? You had Daddy and me worried sick about you. You know he can’t take this kind of stress.” Daddy had his first heart attack when I was eight and Buddy was six.

“Did he tell you? Mom’s coming home,” Buddy replied with worry in his hazel eyes.

“Well maybe it will be different this time. Maybe, they got her fixed up this time. Maybe, she won’t be like she was before. Maybe, we can be a family now. You never know what is going to happen tomorrow,” I said trying to convince him it would all be okay. However, I couldn’t even seem convince myself.

“That’s easy for you to say. You graduate in a few weeks and then you will be gone.” I could hear the resentment in Buddy’s voice. He knew I had to leave and that it would kill me to stay. He just didn’t want me to leave him behind. “I still have two more years until I can leave. You won’t have to live with her because you’ll be off to college or something else,” he whined. I suddenly felt guilty for being older than him. I worried that I would be leaving him behind to endure the pain alone, but I was still hopeful that my mother would be fine. I had my doubts and there were plenty of them because I knew deep down in my heart that I would never have a healthy mother until she admits that she has a problem. In the deepest recesses of my mind, I knew she would never do that. She would never admit there was anything wrong.

“Come on. We need to get you home and get some dry clothes on. We can talk about this at home. Maybe we can reason with Daddy and help him understand that none of us need this additional stress in our lives.” The ride was quiet on the way home. My boyfriend firmly held my hand between shifting gears. He looked over and saw tears running down my cheek. I had yet to tell him that my mother was coming home. He knew that things were bad between us, but I hadn’t been able to tell him how bad they had gotten. He also knew that Mother was gone, but he didn’t know where.

Since Daddy had moved my brother and me last fall, I had only told Shane about my mother. Shane was a foster child that had been born to dysfunctional parents as well. He was beautiful on the side of the face everyone got to see. On the other, Shane wore his hair over his eye and cheek. Shane’s light blonde hair was thick enough to cover the scars from his mother putting a hot iron to his cheek and eye, but it was thin enough that he could see through the baby fine tresses. Shane was lucky to not lose his eye, but he slit both of his wrists that night and walked to the bridge down the street from his house. He said he got to the interstate when he passed out. Shane had meant to plunge to the highway below and end his life. A passing motorist stopped and called for emergency assistance from his cell phone.

Shane was the first person I noticed in school, partly because I had all of my classes with him, but also because he was the only other person I had ever seen that always wore bandanas or thick chunky bracelets and watches around his wrists. I recognized that he must have been covering scars under those bracelets because this is what I did too. Only Shane knew what lies beneath my bracelets, and only I knew what lies beneath his.

My boyfriend put the truck into park and Buddy stumbled out of the passenger’s side of the truck. “Buddy, it doesn’t look like Dad’s back yet. I’ll be up in a minute. Get you some dry clothes on,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied.

As I watched him walk up the stairs to our little two-bedroom apartment, another tear rolled down my cheek. My boyfriend squeezed my hand and pushed away the curls from my face. “I wish you would tell me what’s going on. I figure that you are upset because of your mom coming home, but that doesn’t tell me much.”

Tears ran down my face, and I told him the story of my troubled past. I filled him in on only the bits and pieces that concerned my mother. I told him how I have spent my whole life scared, and for the first time I’ve ever known, I finally felt safe. I cried that I didn’t want to be scared anymore. I only had the next two months to get through, and I could leave forever and never look back. He wiped the tears from my eyes and tenderly kissed my forehead as he said, “Everything will be fine, Dream Girl. I will take care of you from now on.”

The next day, I awoke to a knock on the door. A delivery driver from the local flower shop stood on the other side of the door. I opened the door, and he began to sing, “All my life, I prayed for someone like you. I thank God that I finally found you. All my life, I prayed for someone like you. Yes, I pray that you do love me too-hoo.” He butchered the first song my boyfriend and I ever danced to, “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo, but the sentiment behind the words was beautiful. He presented me with a large white chrysanthemum with two googly eyes and a red pipe cleaner smile affixed to the petals. The stem was down inside a crystal vase, and the card pinned to the yellow bow tied around the vase read, “Cheer up, Dream Girl! I love you.”

As the days passed, I spent less and less time at home. I began spending nights at my boyfriend’s, and Daddy convinced my mother that my boyfriend was a good guy. Dad said he was better than what they had expected for me, and he has a future. He explained how having a boyfriend in college had given me new goals to shoot for and tamed me. My dad told my mother that everything would be okay, and she should just leave us be. He thought he had her convinced, but I knew it must be the new medicine Mother was on.

My boyfriend and I were inseparable, and prom neared. I was excited and tried on my prom dress that I bought a couple of weeks earlier. I was shocked to not be able to get it to zip. I had been putting on some weight especially in my mid-section. I immediately called Shane to help. “I don’t understand Shane, it zipped up fine last week.”

“You must be PMSing,” Shane chuckled, but I didn’t laugh. Shane removed the zipper, put in another blue satin panel and eyelets for lacing the bodice in the back. “There, all fixed!”

The prom was a wonderful event, and I shone like a princess with my two princes by my side. Shane and I did each other’s nails, and he was my second escort. My boyfriend didn’t mind being around Shane because he knew I was safe with him. He liked the fact that I had someone who was bigger and stronger than me that could watch over me at school when he couldn’t be there. I grew more and more anxious with each passing day. Soon, the school year would come to a close, and soon, I would finally be on my own. And, I knew I would be safe as long as I was with him.


The Sky Grows Grey

without the sun
a flower withers and dies
tortured and torn
on the ground it lies
broken by zephyrs
scattered upon the breeze
tossed among
decomposing leaves
far below
darkening cold skies
celestial bodies
glint as they pass by
anticipating
new birth on a new day
but for now
the sky grows cold and grey
the sky grows cold and grey

©Pamela N. Brown
October 11, 2009