Prestent Pictures-- Part One

So, it's been a while since I've written. I had this idea a while ago, so i hope you like it. Please review?

In her room, the girl was scratching away at a piece of paper, hoping to come up with an idea. Was she writing a story, or drawing a picture? She couldn't’t tell. It was like a story, the story of how she lost someone so close to her, but also lost her memory of him. Even though it wasn't’t in the shape of a book, or let alone in the form of a story, it was a picture, a picture in the shape of a person, standing in a driveway, in the pouring rain. All of this was made from words, from the truth that even she didn't’t know. She began to sob as she realized that from this moment on, she would never be the same.

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I was upset when I got home. Ma appeared to be mad, and Da wasn't’t home. He was probably at work. So instead of staying and pouring all of my tears and fears to Ma (whom was exposed to be cooking dinner, but instead was chatting away angrily on the phone to who-knows-who), I ran upstairs to my room and locked the door. I figured listening to music would calm me down a little, so I turned on one of my favorite CD’s. Once I was semi-soothed by the music, I began to reminisce about my day. It had been normal, with people teasing me left and right because I don’t wear a mask of Abercrombie. I don’t look like them. They call me names, but it doesn’t bring me down.

I began to fall into the melody of the music; the singer’s soft voice numbing my mind after the long day. It soothes me, calming down my racing mind. Inspiration fills my mind, as he leaves his low, beautiful verses and begins to sing higher notes, and then to the point where he is screaming the words. Even though it may seem distracting to most people, it unnerves me, sending me into my own world. My own world, filled with princes and princesses, and knights dressed in shining armor instead of fools dressed in tin foil. My own world that lets me be perfect in my own eyes, not different in others eyes.

I picked up my notebook from my desk in the corner. It was the notebook that would betray me if its secrets got out, the notebook that I bought for myself because no one seemed to pay attention to me anymore. I began searching. I had to find a pencil somewhere, there always was. Eventually I found one. I went and laid down on my king size bed, and I began drawing something. I don’t what I was drawing, but I noticed other little drawings inside of a big picture. They were things like birds, stars, hearts, candles and people. After a while, my CD stopped playing. My drawing started to slur together, like one big circle filled the paper, instead of the usual something. I got up, feeling frustrated. I put away my drawing, no longer feeling inspired by anything. I just wanted to sleep, to lie back and sleep. I was so tired, but I couldn’t find the nerve to dose away. I sat there and thought. I thought about today, my day at school. I thought about tomorrow, how it would mirror every other day, and how I was itching just to leave. To pack my bags and go somewhere else, to leave all of my past behind. Even though this is my senior year in high school, and I get to attend a great university, I feel like my past would follow me. As soon as I began to think of the past, I fell into my dark hole. The dark hole I spent all my hours reminiscing in. Reminiscing about the days when I was happier; when I had more friends, when my family actually sat down and ate a real dinner together.

During the summer, I had job. It was one of my friend’s ideas, an idea that hoped to retrieve me from the “worthless abyss I was living in. Which, it had. I mean, I earned enough to buy myself a nice laptop. But, that’s nothing to “whoop” about anymore. I had to pay every last penny I had earned, but hey, it paid off, and even now I got my money’s worth. After searching around for a while, I found it. It was one of my prized possessions, something I cared about. I pulled it from its hiding spot, and then I went back and plopped down onto my bed and started it up. It took me a while to boot it up, but once I did, I found the local Wi-Fi server, the one my parents used downstairs for their laptops.

I thought about my family. It’s weird, because it feels as if we never get to talk to each other. Sometimes I feel as if I don’t even know my mother anymore. We don’t sit down and eat together, we are always busy. Or, at least my parents are. My mom is a writer and constantly goes on tours for her new books. My Da is a big C.E.O. of a company, so he is always working. But that leaves me. I am always busy with where I work now and my school life. I work at a place I call the institute, and its for little kids who’ve been abused. I work with them to help them feel comfortable about the world. There they work with dolphins and monkeys and more animals to help. It’s an interesting job, but hey, its fun to know that you are helping out.

MY family is never seen together. I guess just because my family is almost never seen together doesn’t mean that were fighting. We don’t spend a lot of time with each other, but we spend it with friends. Friends like my Da’s co-workers, the people who want a raise or a promotion or whatever. Da is a big business man; he’s the big boss. So we have a lot of dinner parties, and we have to pretend that we actually spend time together, like we were a real normal family. That’s what he says, at least. OK, I don’t mean to be, well, mean, but we are filthy stinking rich. But my parents believe in earning things the “right way” and not just asking for the money to go get something. Two, we weren’t always like this. There once was a time that we would always spend days together by choice, we would go out and actually have fun. But as Jesse McCartney said/sang, or whoever that dude is, that was then, this is now. And three: even though they were never around to show it to my friends, and hardly to me, my ‘rents still cared about me. I was still Da’s “baby girl” and Ma’s “sweet darling”, no matter what would go on, and no matter how many business-related dinner parties that we would fake.

Something tragic also happened around four or five months ago. I was in a car with my father. His new Mustang, a red GT. It was beautiful. He was driving, and he got a text from my mother. He let go of the wheel and began to text her back, telling me it was urgent. I offered to text for him, but he said I wasn’t aloud to read it. So he texted back. I looked up and I saw a huge a four way stop, very busy. Dad “drove” through a red light, causing a semi to run into us. The car ended up battered. Father sort of hurt, but nothing that couldn't be healed. He had a few scratches, bruises, and fractures. I, on the other hand, was a mess. The wreck had started a fire, and the fire spread to where I was laying, trapped by the heavy metal frame of the car. It burnt my left leg, giving me a huge burn mark that hurt worse than anything else. The fire had burned the tips of my black curly hair, and it made it hard for me to see. By the time the police, ambulance, and firemen had gotten there I was severely inquired, but I made a recovery. I only remember it happening. I don’t remember much before the crash, except a few events that went on in my life. I was pretty much wiped clean of my memory. The sad part about it is my father still blames me for everything.

Suddenly I snapped out of my hole. I looked at the laptop, which had completely booted up. My screensaver was a picture of me and him; the last time I remember being happy around him. The night of the tragedy I managed to get a picture of me and him under the stars. It brought tears to my eyes, so I quickly pulled up the Internet. I logged on to my email. Even though I only had few friends, and yet to say most of them either didn’t have Internet service or were too lazy to log onto the computer, I still had an email address. I liked the idea of being able to be connected to the whole wide web.

In my inbox, It said that I had a new message. It surprised me, since the last time I checked my email was this morning, that there was one there. I looked, but I didn’t recognize it. Usually I didn’t care for chain links, especially ones that I didn’t know who sent, but this one seemed different. It felt as if this email was important, like it was calling to me to read it. Reluctantly, I clicked on it. I read it, and it surprised me. I understood what it meant, but I didn’t.

To: rainbows&remembrance@yahoo.com

From: believeintheunexpected@ymail.com

“Read your pictures,

Start at the beginning,

the very first picture.

You have been “asleep”

Your mind, your body, your spirit, your soul.

Read your story.

Find out what you forgot.

What you don’t know,

What you miss,

Has been there the whole time.

Right in front of you.

Piece together the picture,”

It really had me astonished. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t reply, for I didn’t know if I could reply. And If I could, I wouldn’t know what to say. Why was the word picture in bold? It feels like whoever sent this really wanted to stress the idea of an actual picture. I really didn’t believe that it was true, that I had been “asleep” for so long. I mean, I went to school every day, and sometimes I even went out with a few friends. But the thing is, I felt that I hadn’t lived for a long time. I didn’t know if this was some kind of clue to why I had felt like this, or if this was simply a prank.

By that time, I was exhausted. I logged of the computer, deciding it was probably a prank of some kind. It took me a while, but I finally realized how late it was, and how long I had been reading that message, over and over again. I hadn’t gotten a good night if sleep in a long while, so only half-awake I decided that it was time for me to go to bed. I took the laptop off my bed and put it on the floor. I decided I would figure this out in the morning, or when I got home from school in the morning. I was too tired to comprehend the meaning right now.

I woke up the next day to the sound of the home phone ringing. Who would be calling right now, it’s like 4:45 am, and someone wants to talk? I thought to myself. I got up and ran downstairs, sure that my ma wouldn’t answer the phone, unless it was for her. When I got downstairs, the phone had already stopped ringing. My stomach won the better of me, so I decided to get some breakfast. Walking into the kitchen, I noticed that something was wrong with it. Not like the someone-was-in-my-house weird, but the this-place-feels-a-little-different wrong. Like someone had come and cleaned the whole house, and put food away.

“Ma?” I called “MA!! Come on, I know your angry, but seriously, answer me.” It was then I got worried. Even if Ma is in the most horrid mood, she still would answer back. I ran around the house, looking for somebody. Da was gone, Ma was gone. There was no note, no nothing. I ran by the window that showed the front yard, the window that I had painted so many times before, but something caught my eye. I slowly walked back, not understanding. It was bright outside, as if it was the middle of the day, during the summer.

Because of that I needed to go do two things. One, check the time. I walked slowly over to the clock, scared from what I would find. I was scared that it would say the day was like, July 29th, 2020. Wait a sec, don’t get caught up. The clock doesn’t tell you the date, silly. I thought to myself. I looked at the clock and… holy cow! It was 10 am, and, apparently, I had slept in an extra 4 hours. Two, I went and checked who had called.

The phone said there was a message, but the number I didn’t recognize. Being me and all, I was curious and I checked the messages. Upon hearing the message, I froze. I thought I recognized the voice, but I was unsure. Then it all came back to me. Who it was. The message. I was overwhelmed with freight, and I was surprised.

I had lost Khris two years ago, during the summer. Even though I remember losing him and suffering from the loss, I didn’t actually remember how he died. He was my best friend. It was when I lost him that my world came crashing down on me. My family had started to fall apart then. The message sounded just like him, his words. Just like one of the last thing he would’ve said to me. I replayed the message, hoping to make more sense of it.

“Hey Jezabella. I know you miss me, but it’s not what you think. You think I’m dead. Listen, it’s really dangerous, where I am, but you have to listen to me. It’s for your own good…. Of Course, by now you must know that this is Khris. You’re not dreaming, and no this is not a prank. Please, please understand. I was never dead.” I heard him pause, and take a deep breath, as if it was hard for him to talk. These words stung like a lashing to the heart.“I want you to understand that you are special. Read the pictures that you drew read the story. You missed out on all of it, everything, every bit. I never died. Your parents, your friends, everybody wanted you to think that I was. They wanted you to think it so that maybe you would become more independent. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I can’t leave where I am. I just can’t. Not that I don’t want to, I’m not allowed. They stop me every time, they limit everything. Help? Read your story. Everything you need to help is in that book. The whole story, from the start. I know you don’t understand what’s going on, if you haven’t been brain washed already, but I need you to understand that I’m taking a HUGE risk by calling—well---- contacting you. Please don’t call this number… it would put me at a huge risk. Bye, and don’t miss me.”

I was scared. I mean he said it wasn’t a prank, but I halfway didn’t believe him. I tried seeing if there was a callback number, but there wasn’t. I even tried star-sixty-nine, but that didn’t work either. I was freaking out now... I didn’t know what to do. I was confused, tired all over again, and, well, scared. I decided to read the story, thinking that it might be useful, since I was home alone all day. This is pointless. I thought. Why should I read something I drew? I mean seriously, where I even start. I know at the beginning, but like, where do I start the story? The fist picture I see? Am I exposed to know this stuff?

Deciding to see what would happen, I ran upstairs, plopped down on my bed, and booted up my laptop. I wanted to read the email again, thinking it would probably be from him. But when I logged on, another surprise waited for me. A new email, from the same email address as last time.

To: rainbows&remembrance@yahoo.com

From: believeintheunexpected@ymail.com

“To start at the story,

Start at the candle.

One in every picture,

One in every fixture.

One in every place,

One to reveal the face

To help you place

The story as it is.

Only a piece of the story will be revealed,

For most of it is sealed,

By lips locked in outer darkness,

A world with out light,

A simple harness.”

Whoever it was writing me was getting on my nerves. Poems that make no sense? Seriously, that is so 1500’s. Why??!? But anyway, I picked up my book from where I left it last night. I went and turned some music on, and then sat back down on my bed. I flipped to the first page, which was picture of a mantle and a candle sitting on top of it. The candle was red, but the flame was blue. Why is the flame blue? And what was I thinking when I colored it? I didn’t even remember coloring it, let alone with red and blue. Wait a second, how did the person know what I drew? The only person I ever showed this to was, well, Jake, but he didn’t even see this picture. Who is doing this to me? I was completely bewildered.

I started to turn the notebook around in circles, hoping to get some kind of idea. When it was upside down, it looked like words. Wait a sec...It is words. And with that, I began to read, began to find out what I never knew about my own life.

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July 20th, 2008

“KHRIS!!!!!!” I yelled. We were on the cruise ship waiting to “launch”, as they called it here. “KHHRRIISSS!!!! Where are you, man?”

“BOOO!!!!” Khris jumped out from a tiki-torch, causing me to scream and jump. He saw how freaked I was, and how bewildered I looked. “Come here. Your look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

I walked over to him, and he took me in his arms. “Where have you been?” I asked. Both of our families were looking for us, since we had just boarded our cruise. We both got strait-A’s in our advanced classes, so his family and mine took us to the beach, and, well, surprised us with this awesome cruise.

“Sheesh, you’re worse than my momma. I was just exploring, ok? It’s now like I jumped into the big fish tank and started swimming with th-“

“KHRIS!!!!”

“Sorry, ma’m. Sorry. Ok, I was just kidding. Come on. Let’s go see what the parental units are doing.” Together we walked up to the rooms.

“Our ‘rents must’ve paid, like, a boatload to get into here.”

“Hehe-boatload. Get it? Were on a boat and-“

“I get it Khris. I get it. But seriously, they must’ve spent a ton to get us into such nice rooms.” He stopped walking, so I did too.

"Gosh, Jez,” he said. He put his hands on my shoulders, which meant he was trying to get a point across to me. “You are such a pessimist. Stop thinking about money, and enjoy this. You need to let go. Promise me? Promise me you’ll walk around and have fun and get a tan. You are so white for a girl who’s been at the beach for a week.”

I started laughing. “Ok, Ok, I will. Tan and all. Deal.” I threw my hand up in the air and started walking backwards. “I give up! I surrender!!!”

He was laughing so hard, I swear he probably was going to pee himself. “Jez There’s a—“

“UGH!!” without looking, I accidentally ran into somebody. I whisked around that I could see the person more clearly. “Oh, I’m sorry please excuse me.”

“Aww, naw, its ok. Don’t worry about it, sweet thang.” The person who I ran into looked about 17, three years older than me. He had blond short hair, blue eyes, and you could tell that he worked out. He looked like he could lift a million pounds, which I bet he probably could. I turned around to look at Khris and did a once over. He looked like the opposite. Slightly tan, with dark—bleach blonde hair and beautiful green glowing eyes, small all around but had awesome abs. I was hoping he wouldn’t have any reaction to blonde-boy calling me babe. He always does. I love him and all, but I don’t know, sometimes his reaction is a little scary.

“Umm, ex-cu-se me, don’t be going’ around calling other peoples girls your 'sweet thang', cause she’s mine. Got it, man?” That was the exact opposite of what I wanted him to do.

“Ok, mister, two things. One, she’s a person, not a trophy, so don’t be claimin’ her like she’s your property. And two, cool your jets. Because you get on the wrong side with me now, I’ll make sure the rest of your vacation is miserable.”

“DUDE LAY OFF!! SHE”S MY GIRL!”

“KHRIS!!!!! Seriously, let’s just go.” I said. I was pulling him away, but he was getting up into the blonde dudes face.

“No, Jez, let me teach him a lesson. Let me teach him a lesson.” Khris said, looking anxious. He was furious now, it was obvious. I was scared for two reasons. One, I was scared because Khris had never acted like this. And two, that guy could so beat Khris up in seconds. Both of their eyes were hungry. They were hungry for fighting; they wanted to hurt each other and it was obvious.

“You want ta’ go?” Said Khris.

“KHRIS STOP IT!!!” I was still pulling him away.

“NO JEZZABELLA!, NO! IM GONNA TEACH HIM A LESSON, WEITHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!!!”

“Fine, Khris. Have fun getting beat up, because I’m not going to stay around to watch your skinny butt get beaten up. See you, maybe” I turned to the blonde dude. “Sorry about him. And once again, sorry for bumping into you. So I’ll see you around?”

He smiled. “Yeah, sure. OH, and don’t worry about it. It’s all cool. See you around.” He waved, and then left.

“And you, mister, I’m not gonna’ put up with you being like that for the three weeks. So you can apologize, or you can say goodbye.” I finished, waiting for his response.

“But, Jezz, he was coming onto you and I’m your boyfr-“

“NO, YOU’RE NOT!!” I don’t know why you’ve always said that, I don’t care why, but you have never been my boyfriend, and when you say it like that, you never will be!” I screamed. “You just embarrassed me in front pof a pretty nice looking guy. You called me by my full name, and you made fun of me. I’m sick of this.” I finished. I turned on my heel, whipped my black hair around, and then stomped out.

That night, instead of eating with him and his family, my family and I ate alone in our room. Ma and Da were both worried about me, since I insisted on going and eating as just a family. During dinner, I was looking around and thinking to myself, Why does he go around and tell people he’s my boyfriend? We’ve not hooked up, and F.Y.I., because of this we never will. I wonder why he thinks he owns me. Does he like me, or is he just trying to show me off, like a trophy? I sat there and picked at my food for most of the time. The suite was amazing, beautifully furnished and everything. I was still looking around when I noticed the candle. It was red, just like a fire, and it had gold streaks on it. It was sitting on top of the automatic fire place. Da saw me staring at it and asked me if he thought we should light it, and I said yes.

Normal candles just burn, and the fire is usually red, or has an orange-ish glow. But this wasn’t a normal candle, I was sure of it. It burned bright blue. It looked like an illusion; like I was dreaming it, or just seeing things. Maybe I was. Maybe I was seeing things because of the heat, or maybe it was because of the fight that I had earlier today.

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Present Day

So that was where the candle picture came from. I thought to myself. It had been only 15 minutes since I had opened the book, and I had already finished the first page. I turned to the second one, since I never used backs of papers. The picture was dated the next day, and It was a picture of the side of a boat. When you looked at it, it looked like a teenage boy was falling into the ocean, and a female had her head perched over the side, screaming for him, and another male was holding her, trying to make sure she didn’t fall in after him. The ocean looked as if it were going to swallow the boy whole, like it opened its mouth for the boy to fall right into its throat, drowning in its unforgiving stomach .I studied the boy. One of his arms was reaching up, as if he was saying “hold me, take me up”. I looked at the picture, recalling for a minute what the email said. “Start at the candle” So, I started looking for a candle hidden in the drawing. After a few seconds of searching, I found it. It was sitting on the deck of the boat, right beside a girl with long black hair hanging over the edge. She was reaching down, as if to try to grab the falling boy. I had never really looked back and paid attention to my old pictures, so it was amazing how intense they looked. After studying it for a minute, I turned the book to where the candle started looking like words, and I began to read.

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