"Where’s daddy, Flora?”
“Your papa’s with a couple o’ her friends baby dear, now c’mon. I gotta take ya to the school, hmm?”
“I don’t wanna go! I want dadddddy!”
“Star, you’ll see him soon, k? Now just c’mon.”
“Where we going, Flora?”
“To school, hmm? Isn’t that exciting?”
Flora turned the engine off and stepped out of her beaten up, Ford ‘78. Bam! She threw her faded out grey apron through the window. The very young woman looked absolutely hideous, and absolutely beautiful. She had burn marks through out her face, and quite a waist. Her pitiful strips of hair were pulled back. She smelled like potato peels and chicken soup and pumpkin pie all rolled in to one.
But she was actually beautiful. The most beautiful woman in town, in the inside that is.
“Now come out Star, we better get goin’,” she called out through the small gap of the window.
“No!” The four year old, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. She had the most amazing hair you’d ever see on someone’s head. It was dark and silky and marvelous. Just like chocolate. She had light brown eyes, like the color of honey, and a sweet pink smile. Her lashes were long and curved, and extremely black.
And she was quite a handful.
“Sweetie pie, you’ll see ya daddy soon enough. Now let’s go please?”
The five year old said nothing.
“How about you come out if I give ya a treat? How about some jello? Hmm? Star?”
“Jello?”
“Yeah, jello. Your favorite, ‘member? And I’ll make some o’ that rice puddin’ ya love so much too, k baby girl?”
“Okay. I go Flora.”
“That’s my girl.”
The girl stepped out of the car, and scrunched up her eyes at the hot California sun. She twirled her colorful church dress and laughed.
“Now c’mon Star, ya don’t wanna be late, do ya?”
“No. Star’s never late.”
Flora chuckled lightly. She took out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket as the girl played with the dress, and read it to herself softly.
Ms. Bernstein
Prekindergarten, Class B
First floor, Room 23
* * *
It was an absolute magnificent day at Sunny Days, California. Everyone was happy. Everyone was excited for the summer. All the little kids watered themselves with the hose while naked, and all the teenagers walked in groups around the neighborhood, and some were caught kissing on benches.
It wasn’t even funny, everyone looked absolutely perfect and happy. It was almost like a movie.
It was almost like a movie.
“Look Paulo, if you go you’re not hurting me, you’re hurting Camilla,” the young woman said. She was absolutely stunning. Her dark hair waved easily, her healthy skin glowed, and her red lips held the most heart-breaking smile you’d ever see.
The man next to her was just as beautiful. He had thick black locks, a chiseled jaw, and tight arm muscles.
“I’m doing this for her own good,” he muttered softly.
“NO! You’re doing this for your own good, and you know it! How is this going to help? Think of how she’ll have to grow up without a father!”
“Izza, I didn’t have a father either.”
“I cannot believe you are that selfish! Really! Go, I don’t need you anyway,” the young woman yelled. She erupted into a loud sob. For what seemed like hours, no one talked. The elegant, bright dining room turned into a deep black hole. A black hole of arguments that were going no where.
“Look Izza, I’m sorry, but I’m going.”
“GO! Just leave already! But don’t ever think of coming back!”
“I’m sorry, I love-”
“Get out of my house, bastard.”
“I love you.”
“I hate you.”
He leaned in to kiss her.
“Get your hands off me.” The man walked slowly to the door, every step making a louder, harsher noise against the wooden floor.
“Wait. First, tell me where you’re going. That’s the least you can give to me,” the woman said between sobs.
The man took his hand of the golden knob and turned around slowly. “So you do still love me. I knew you couldn't’t just forget me.”
“Trust me. It’ll be easy.”
“All right. Well then I’ll go-”
“Oh for the god’s sake Paulo, JUST TELL ME!” the woman roared.
The man shook with ear-splitting laughter. A horrible smile had been put on his face, making his handsomeness disappear. “Oh, I’ll be everywhere. Possibly London, Tokyo, maybe even Rome actually. All I know for sure is, I won’t be here.”
“Oh, grow up. You know you don’t have half the money needed to travel around the world. You’re just a nobody actor! Puh!”
“Oh Isabella dear, love, you haven’t heard. Hollywood wants me, I’m going to be a famous actor. Maybe one day you can scrape enough money to take Camilla to the movie theater and point out that daddy’s on the big screen. Hmm?”
A silence spread through the dining room. The woman tipped her expensive, white hat as if to say, “You may go now.”
“Can I say good bye to Cam?”
“NO! Don’t dare coming near my daughter. Now get out of my house!”
“It soon will be the bank’s house, love.”
“I won’t miss you, and I won’t ever love you again. My Camilla and I, we’re a package.”
“Fine. Go live your life being a hard-working mother. You’ll wish you listened to me in about a few years when Scarlett starts growing up.”
“First, Camilla is four! All right? Four! She goes in a potty. Second, I would never, ever adopt my baby. So go to hell!”
“Cam’s a pain in the ass, and you know it! She can’t go living without her dress matching her shoes. She can’t ever be quiet for five damn minutes and she can’t ever eat her darn food. What do you say to that, huh? Do ya wanna be living with that for the next thirteen years?” he smirked.
“Yes. I do.”
“Look Izza, I’ve tried to convince you. I’ve tried everything. I’m sorry, but I’m going.”
“You’ve already announced that jackass. Now go to hell.”
“I will always love you. And when you see my on the front page of some other celebrity magazine, know that I’ll be thinking of you. And Camilla too. I’ll never forget you… both.”
“Did you hear me Paulo? Huh? I said, GO TO HELL!” the woman yelled.
“Oh Isabella, I’m so sorry. I’m just doing what’s best. For all of us.”
“Yes, at least now Camilla won’t have a loser for a father,” the woman laughed.
“Still saying loser then? What, was it the ‘big’ word of third grade? Possibly fourth?”
“Please go.”
“I just want to let you know that I will never forget you. Ever.”
The woman whimpered softly. Oh, how she loved him so. “Will you, will you, you-”
“Will I what, call, send a postcard?”
“Yes.”
“Izza, the public can never know about us. Or Camilla. It’s just show business.”
“So I suppose you’ll never see me or your daughter again?”
“Oh, I think I’ll tell Camilla when she’s old enough. Perhaps it’ll be good for news you know, the headline will read Long Lost Daughter From PAULO VEDEZ.
“And-and-and me?”
“No. I don’t think so. But I love you so Izza, you know. This is just for career’s sake, that’s all.”
“Yes. I know.” She erupted into sobs.
He put his suitcase down and went to his wife, bended by her feet.
“Oh, you are so young Izza, you can marry again!”
“I will not marry anyone because I know what men do know. I know their horrors.”
“Please take care of yourself Isabella dear. Please. For me.”
“For you? Hahahahah! FOR YOU! All right. You asked for it.”
“Good bye Izza. Good bye Camilla. Good bye life as a nobody actor,” he chuckled. The man walked to the door, this time quickly, to get away of this mad woman, and picked up his suit case. “I love you!” he yelled from the door.
It shut loudly.
“I loved you too,” the woman whispered. She broke into a loud depressing sob.
I grabbed my brown lunch bag from the kitchen counter. Don’t ask me what’s in it. “Bye mom, love ya!” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I heard a muffled response of “Love ya too.”
I raced to the garage and pulled out my old buddy, bike. I only had about two hours to do homework, completely ignoring algebra two, and skipping English, I’m probably going to have to really work hard of getting out of this hole.
I ‘accidentally’ forgot about the ‘being safe on the road’ stuff from mom as I zoomed out of my driveway.
So, how’s life again? Hmm? I hope it’s better then going to high school with two periods of no homework, lunch, sitting next to my, and I must admit, very beautiful best friend Jenny, and very smart other best friend Ben, while I sit and wonder what category I fit in, and then going to work at my mom’s café with my mom, and I must admit, who probably doesn’t love me as much as most mothers are suppose to love their kids, and then going to an empty house with a night full of homework.
Because if your life, is worse then that, you should definitely take therapy.
I swerved past the Lake Veruna sign, increasing my speed by the second.
I was in the city.
Can I beat the bell? If my calculations are correct, the bell is going to ring in six minutes. It’ll take me about three more minutes to get to school, but I still have to chain my bike, go to my locker on the second floor, and run up to third floor Spanish. I’ll make it. If not, mom, get ready for a call home from my Spanish teacher.
I got to LA High, and ran up the twelve stair, jumping two steps at a time. I chained my bike, and walked inside. Two minutes. I would make it.
I walked into Mrs. Sharon’s classroom. Bella Jerkins waved to me. She was my math tutor all through middle school, smart ass. She’s your usual suck-up-to-the-parents, wanna-be blondie. Not that all blonds are like that. Heck, I know more evil brunets then I know evil blonds. Example: Lea Jones? Complete evil. Example numero dos: (there’s a little Spanish for ya) Megan Fox.
Okay, I’m not sure she can count, but you get the point.
Right after I sat down the bell rang, which is kind of strange, but okay. I have a feeling today is gonna be better then the rest.
“Everyone please stand for the pledge of allegiance,” Ms. Quesada ordered in her old, boring tone. I stood up and knew I was back in reality.
I was walking down a little dark alley, quiet, and absolutely spooky. It was night time. I could see my own breath, and hear my chuck’s against the noisy stones.
This was the place no one would EVER want to land in. And I don’t want to either. Because I’m not that much of a risk-taker.
I saw someone in the distance. Two people. No three. I ran, fully running, like I never had run before.
“Hey, you! Hey! Over there!” I yelled loudly. My voice echoed continuously, again and again. It felt like my voice never stopped. Nor my legs. I kept running forever. I never got tired.
But the shadows of the people had gone, did they run away? Were they scared? I could see the people’s dark shapes slowly fade away into the distance.
Something brushed by back. I gasped. I felt the cool fingers feeling my soft, chocolate hair. I felt like screaming ‘get your hands of my hair!”
I couldn't’t turn around. I couldn't’t bring myself to it. And I couldn't’t run either. I was frozen in fear. Fear. A word I almost never used in my daily vocabulary. Wasn’t I the one my friends call adventurous? Brave?
The thing, the person, leaned toward me slowly, his grip on me very tight so that I couldn’t run anyway.
It whispered coolly “Do it. Take the risk.”
I didn’t understand at all. Take the risk? The risk of turning around and finding out what this thing holding me so tight was? My brain boiled furiously. So many risks to take!
To fall in love.
To run away.
To turn emo.
Even to just buy two ice creams at lunch on Friday’s, instead of one.
“What risk?” I asked quickly.
The thing leaned in closer, pulling my hair, twisting it. I could feel its breath against my skull. It was burning hot. The thought came to me immediately.
The devil.
The creature leaned in more, so it’s face was touching the back of my head. But it didn’t speak. All of a sudden I could see the dark shapes of people I had seen before. More then just three now. Six, no, seven. Ten. Ten shadows of people appeared in the far, far distance.
But I did not want to run for help. I didn’t. I wanted to stay here with the Devil. Just for one more moment.
“I am not the devil.”
I stopped breathing. Not the devil? Was it a monster come to get me?
“Who are you?” What risk?”
I listened quietly, my heart beats talking for me. But it didn’t talk again.
“Camilla! Camilla dear! Wake up, you have to go second period, oh come on! Teens should get more god damn sleep nowadays.”
I pretended to still be sleeping, but I laughed for a second as I heard my Spanish teacher curse, which blew it. I mean, it’s hard to imagine a middle-age, American-pretending-to-be-Spanish, high school teacher curse.
“Camilla, go to your class.”
I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Juniors were seated all around me, a few staring curiously, but most were either texting, popping bubble gum, doing homework, or eating chips.
“Did the bell ring?”
Two people laughed. A nerd boy, and a boring looking girl with straight black hair and a tiny nose. The only people who cared to pay attention to me.
“Yes, dear it did, now go to class.”
I stood up, and to realize both my legs feel asleep, as well as my upper left back. I picked my books up, with a bit of effort, and walked out.
As I heard my neon green chucks click against the abandoned school hall I thought, What the hell did I just dream about?
