Cyan Skies ©
“Blair…Blair, ya mind?” said a seemingly distant voice that crescendoed out of faint murmuring. Then it dawned on me that it wasn’t my active imagination at play .It was none other than my miserable teacher who, though said nothing more to me, never ceased to pierce me with an avid stare of disapproval as expected. Perhaps making sure I didn’t start to daydream again, fall asleep, or even keep me from gaping out the window to the amazingly ethereal sight .Probably the most interesting thing that I saw all year. That so erratic, that I’ve been here all year yet I now decide to spot something that would’ve made my time here worth while. After all I’ve been sitting here all year and today was the first day I even looked in that direction.
“No….No deep thoughts” I whispered, brushing my once soft though now severely damaged russet bangs out of the way. So that if I broke eye contact and started to doze off Ms. Leigh would know. That should scare me into paying attention! Who knows what would happen if I got lost in the trances of the deep mind I so involuntarily inquired from my mother. What was the point of being deep and creative when no one else understood, truly understood, what I meant. I could go on and on about being misunderstood and my mother but they both can be described in one word them indescribable.
Riiiingg!!!! I most likely missed the lesson that day but it was the most memorable day of the year, not for the lesson, cos god knows what she was talking about. I could feel the anticipation in the air it was moving day. Yes, I made more enemies than friends but simply because their jealous or so my mother says, but that’s high school. You’re hated for normality, loathed for popularity, and killed for being different (not literally).
“Prepare yourselves for the test next Monday “Intruded Ms Leigh boastingly even though she had lost a victim of unfair testing as far as I know. She’s rumored to be terrorizing her test fail-ees during lunch hour. I think it’s a rumor but I wouldn’t know I was an average student and I never let myself fail in that class.
As I walked out of the class I felt a brief goodbye was need to say goodbye to everything that I ever touched in the class ,but that would take hours not including the guys.
“Goodbye” I whispered to whoever cared to listen and quickly stormed by trying my best to make an unnoticeable exit .No Luck. Much to my dismay I walked into a cluster of people.
“Crap, they remembered” I said not even trying to be quiet, what was the use it was my last day anyway might as well make it my own.
“Bye Blair, later, bye Blair” They called out almost as confused as I was .Call me a skeptic but I think half of them didn’t even know who I was. The words “Bye Blair” were just sweet on their tongues. The alliteration: apparently contagious because I don’t remember making this many friends here. I didn’t answer.
Why bother saying goodbye to a school that would judge its own library books by the cover?
At first I thought that this would be an amazing place, what should I expect going to a place named “Spirited” .By far whatever energy was in this place was “spirited away”. That’s my mistake, and I guess I’m a hypocrite too for choosing where to live by the name and complaining about being pre-judged by this school. But now I’ve changed. NOWHERE is far enough from here!! For someone who craves excitement and adventure a lackluster highschool like this was an “aboveground hell”. The place that I went to usually made up for the fact that I moved around a lot but this time it just landed me with a years worth of memories that I’m probably gonna try to block out. But we all make mistakes, mine happens to be hypocrisy. It used to be that I craved stability, a pattern to follow daily, instead of spontaneously moving around. Emphasis on used to. Now I just miss the suspense and the mystery of the unknown, I just hope that the mystery won’t lead to intense boredom. At that moment I felt a familiar feeling at the pit of my stomach. I guess “my thrill of the move feeling” couldn’t wait. The feeling brought back a flood of nearly forgotten memories which brought back a flood of tears. A friend quickly came and embraced me, and wow it almost felt real! Look at them thinking that I was overwhelmed with emotions because of the “emotional farewell”. All filled with the narcissistic thoughts of how much this moment had and will affect my life forever.
In all reality the tears were for my father. It was because a thought came into my head .The thought that it would be the first time that I’d move without him. I guess now I know what they think of me, if they think of me at all. They probably think I’m so sensitive and quiet. In all truth I just have nothing to say! Which isn’t true at all angles. Of coarse no one would say it out loud with the fear of getting corrected by me. No one really knew me so they all kept quiet with their own opinions which their minds twisted into facts. Just because I wasn’t dying for attention from the emaciated popular girls, didn’t mean I was a mute it just meant I had nothing to say, especially to them! But why prolong this already dreadful moment, the real adventure starts as soon as I ditch this place. Or at least make it to the parking lot. Who would’ve thought you didn’t have to be a prima donna to get chased out to your car.
“Just keep your head down, they’ll stop chasing you, then I can drive you to the limo” My mom called out from our silver car. I got in the passengers seat, slid my legs through and said ““Eewww, I wanted you to get picked up in the viper today”
“I hope you don’t expect that, cuz you can get out right now if you do” my mom said mockingly.
“No, just joking, but of coarse you can let me drive for once” I said “I’m good at it, you’ll be safe”
“I know I’ll be safe, I put on my seatbelt” she said eyeing my seatbelt. I quickly fastened trying to show as much responsibility as possible. And if you’re wondering, that isn’t a lot.
“So, where to, this time” I hollered over the wind. We had started driving and gone a bit over the limit but hey it was the best I’d ever felt in a year.
“What? “Why mom called back “you didn’t get the memo?”
“Apparently not” I smirked out.
“So here’s the plan” she said abruptly while screeching to a halt “2 days from now we’ll be going to you’re staying at your aunts’ house and the day after I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to the airport ,kay?” she voiced in smiling every other word.
“Why are you so happy?” I intruded “If I had known we were going to be cheerful I would’ve worn my Barbie bubblegum lipstick”.
“Since when do I need your permission to show jubilance?” stated in an obvious fluster.
“Uh no, but these are supposed to be dismal times I’m leaving remember I’m leaving, and I thought I was the amnesiac!” I clustered in potentially persuasive sentence. Persuasive if she remembered that this would be hard for me not only because I wouldn’t be with my father but my mother would only be staying for a week before she left for Los Angeles. I knew, but unbeknownst to her. I wasn’t asking for melodrama I just wanted a minute at least to deliberate about what would be different this time around. Or had she forgotten everything from the year’s lonesomeness. Lonesomeness which were about to evanesce. I had heard her the night prior talking about a guy .Micheal. I don’t know a Micheal. Quickly changing the subject out of the exasperation of the fact that she didn’t get it.
“So who were you talking to last night?” a poorly thought up excuse not to talk about my father. One which threw me against a fragile subject that was like a bomb. Ready to explode any minute but with a tranquil ticker, so you could never really tell when the shrapnel was going to fly. My mother met me with wandering brown eyes.
“No one, just an old friend” she said her voice estranged and almost not her own. It was her usual voice but with a vibrato undertone. Hinting a bit of discomfort.
“Mom, I thought we had this talk I’m old enough to hear what ever you’re keeping confidential. Evidently that was an opinion, and it wasn’t shared.
“Well then it’s more than an old friend” she answered. I expected that I just didn’t expect her to answer until after she had boarded her flight back here. The conversation perished. Nothing was said on the way back home in fact the silence was carried on for the two days before I was to go to my aunt. There was an aura of placidity. Not the kind that you crave in the middle of a tumultuous city. It was the kind that forced us to make uncomfortable glances and ominous stares that lead to chagrin, mostly for thinking of the question. I’ve never tried to avoid someone so much I my life. Even so this was impossible especially when under the same room. I don’t recommend it! I didn’t even know what I was doing let alone why and how to stop. That just became the pattern: Get up in the morning and don’t look he in the eye. More of a guilty reflex than a schedule. I’m pretty horrible in these situations some one with dementia would probably act better in my shoes. What am I saying some one with dementia wouldn’t have even gotten into a mess like this? But I probably should be questioning my sanity right now instead of comparing it to others.
“ Ok your aunt it coming to pick you up in an hour” my mother mouthed with only a raspy voice escaping as if she had forgotten how to speak. That tends to happen when spend two whole days communicating with the words of our voiceless petrified eyes.
“I’m sorry for asking you that it’s none of my business” The words slid out uncontrollably yet they retained the sincere manor that I had wanted to imply when I heard my tedious thoughts echo as I rehearsed hours prior.
I’ve been known to be quite repetitive but this time I took great precaution for this apology to stand out, to sound real. Because it was and of all the other sorrys this was one I wanted to burn into her brain.
“Anything I do is you business, but I understand” a softened more familiar voice took charge over the raspy voice as if called by the sincerity of my voice. It had been a long time since I felt so epithetic if there was any one person that I could even begin to fathom how life could be in their shoes it was my mother. It was easier watching from the outside, but I still know exactly what she’s going through. I don’t know why, I just do.
I pursed my lips. I wasn’t one to have a long conversation, not with my mother at least.
Being the intuitive person that I am I usually told people what they felt or what they were thinking .It often caused irritation the select few that dare to cross my path and be friendly. You’d expect me not feel the pressure of teen angst at home but that was when the pressure climaxed. I shot up and ran to the kitchen searching for something to occupy my time without it being obvious that I was avoiding her. Though there was a question that burned in the back of my psyche. Which aunt was she talking about I merely remember my mothers’ sister Michelle I think it was. I doubt that it was the same aunt she was talking about. In my knowledge I had no other aunt. I spun around fast trying to catch her before she found an excuse to leave. I caught the sight of her tease her sunny blonde hair in the light reflected through the evergreen window. It took all I had not to reach out and seize hold of her smooth hair hoping that it would transfer her polished hair type to me.
“MOM!!” I took her by surprise .The startled look on her face scared me more than my scream. She looked rabid as if she was prepared to jump and throttle me.
“Oh jeez you scared me!” a morbidly frightened woman stared at me. I lost my train of thought. For the longest moment we stood there merely mirroring each others frozen expression. Oh yes I remembered. I caught my breath.
“So sorry mom, I just wanted to ask you a quick question before you left” I said still fighting to resist the urge to touch the hair that reminded me so of my own. At least how it used to be but more along the lines of an overly blonde strawberry blonde color.
“Shoot” her voice slightly suspicious yet eager to hear what I had to say.
“Well when you said aunt what did you mean”
“I meant your aunt” my mother somewhat testy I could tell.
“Well the only aunt I can recall is Aunt Kirsten and she’s on sabbatical” I clearly remembered. Her face hardened like I’d never seen before. But not in a surly sort of way but more along the lines of disoriented, boredom perhaps but I knew her too well to make that mistake.
“Well you have another aunt” she spoke without thinking for I’m the moments of silence she bore before she spoke were just filled with thoughtless stares and nothing more. Not even a realization that I had found her out and with proof to back things up. I dare not tell her that I knew as a fact that my father had no sisters.
“Dads sister?” I faked “I think I remember grandma talking about her. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument and I figure that the truth could wait for my move. I’d do it over the internet that way I couldn’t hear her screams. HONK!!
“Your aunts here I’ll be heading out, tell her I said hi and bye.” Her soft voice brushed b my ear as she kissed me goodbye. What a great way to end a potential scene. Who was she really? Probably a friend so close she deemed her an honorary aunt. God mother would do at least then there would be no stifling questions about how she was related to me. I wonder if she’s hiding something. Most likely but I knew they’d resurface so there was no use of making a big deal of it now when I could deal with it later.
“Ok mom” I said going along with her clearly bogus story. I swaggered out the door nearly tripping over my feet, while my long ivory legs entwined themselves almost acting as an omen that I shouldn’t go outside. I decided that from now until I was sure that we were related I was going to paraphrase all my thoughts. After I figured out how to walk an inch without tripping over myself or anything else for that matter I wore a dwindling smile to my so called aunt, hoping that since we’d never met she’d mistake it for my bona fide smile.[pre]
