Misery Loves Company

It was autumn.

Leaves of every colour from scarlet to gold laid under a deathly beautiful blanket

of sparkling frost. A bitterly chill breeze swept through the forests that climbed up the

rocky steps of the Appalachians. The sky displayed a magical picture, morning stars

like paintbrush splatters dappling a canvas of dusky violdets and blues.. A few brilliant rays of sun

raced to appear over the mountain peaks, veiled with blushing clouds.

The still silence of a day not yet born was broken by the demanding, nagging

wail of an alarm clock.

Matt’s hand mechanically reached out for the alarm clock, searching for the off

switch. He turned the bothersome alarm off. It hadn’t awakened him. He’d been up for

much longer, watching for the moment when night turned into day.

He stood up and surveyed the room. It was neat for the moment, with nothing on

the floor except the rug, clothes hung in the closet, and his desk organized. He made

his bed quickly, pulling the blankets up and arranging the pillows. Satisfied that the

room looked nice, he walked out into the long corridor leading to the front porch. On the

left side of the house were the bedrooms and living room. The right side consisted of a

den, office, kitchen, and dining room. He made a quick detour into the cheery kitchen,

wolfed down a granola bar, and proceeded to leave the house without a sound.

As soon as Matt could not see the red tin roof, he began to run.

The bleak light of a new dawn broke through the clouds. Somewhere in the city,

a window was opened, letting the frosty air into a dark bedroom. In the same bedroom,

a digital clock blinked lazily. It was still early at four thirteen in the morning.

There was a rustle of sheets, and a figure struggled out of the nest of blankets

piled on the mattress. A pair of slightly bewildered eyes stared out the window at the

lights in the city, then turned their gaze to the woman standing beside the window, her

pale face empty.

Without a word, the woman looked out the window. She sighed, a sad sound,

and stood there staring for a few moments more. Shaking herself, she walked to the

door. As she began to exit, she whispered a barely audible name: "Tabby."

Tabiby moaned, her small frame curling into a tight ball underneath the

mountain of silky pillows and soft blankets. It was too early to be awake, but there was

no hope of recapturing the night’s good sleep. She sat up, shaking her head of messy,

reddish brown curls, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She shuffled over to

her dresser and tried to find a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to wear.

After she was dressed, she crept over to the window, closing out the sounds of

the city and the cold air. She walked out of her bedroom, with jeans and sweatshirts

covering almost every inch of the floor. She entered the hallway and turned a right,

climbing down a spiral staircase into the kitchen. Her mother was sitting at the table, a

cup of coffee in her hands. Her blond hair was tangled, and there were circles under

her eyes. She had just arrived home from a hard night of work.

"Tabby," she mumbled.

"Yes, Mom?" Tabby asked.

"I don’t never listen to advice. Don’t follow me. When someone gives you advice,

take it."

"Ok, Mom." Tabby sighed.

"And Tabby?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Her mother stood up and walked to the staircase. She climbed the

stairs slowly, and headed down the hallway.

"I love you too," Tabby whispered. She left the apartment, her heart a little bit

heavier than it had been.

Driving herself places was Tabby’s favourite way to travel. There weren’t any

curious people wanting to know her business in the car with her, and she liked being

alone. It gave her more time to plan, and more time to think.

This weekend, her destination was in Tennessee. Last month she had visited

Mississippi, and had decided she liked the South so much more than Seattle. The small

towns where everyone knew everyone’s business were interesting to her, and she had

so many wonderful photographs from those small towns. She’d travelled in the South

more than anywhere. She’d been to towns with names like Hot Coffee, SoSo, and

Pelahatchie. Those were all in Mississippi. She wondered whether the towns in

Tennessee had strange names.

In any case, that was where she was headed. The lines on the road whizzed by

underneath her, countless miles flying away. Four days later, she arrived in Tennessee.

Matt hated his job. He was inside all day, dealing with annoying customers that

expected him to know everything. He was just trying to make some money for college,

not start a career. Honestly, who wanted to work at a gas station all their life? Definitely

not him. He wanted more from life.

In any case, his boss had warned him he had to start being more polite with the

customers. It was driving business away when he glared and them or smarted off with

them. Any more nonsense and he would be fired.

"Yeah, well, let’s see if I care when that happens. I can get another job anywhere

I like," he mumbled under his breath, forcing a smile as he rang up a young woman’s

purchases. She smiled weakly and left the gas station. Matt kicked the counter, and

then blushed when he heard someone laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked, glaring at the girl. She was tall,tan, skinny,

and looked like a very tired and dishevelled model. Her jeans were wrinkled and her

sweatshirt was dirty. Her red hair was curly and unruly, and her eyes were a strange

mottled blue colour, streaked with green and grey.

"You’re kinda funny, that’s all. Pretending to be so angry at everyone, kicking

stuff," she replied, a smile playing at her rosy lips.

"I’m not pretending to be angry. I hate this job!" he informed her.

"Oh, I think it would be a wonderful job. Getting to meet new people who will

never see you again," the girl giggled. It was absurd.

"Yeah, well, keep your own opinion to yourself," Matt grumbled.

"Hey, what happened to southern hospitality?" she asked, leaning on the

counter.

"Look, you gonna buy something or ain’t you?"

"Oh, yes! Thanks for reminding me. I'd like a roll of film," she said, pointing. "But I was

having so much fun talking."

"Here you go." Matt handed her the film. She dug around in her pockets,

frowning.

"I’m short a dime," she told him.

"And?" he asked.

"Maybe you could lend me one?" she pleaded hopefully. Who did this girl think

she was, walking in here and asking strangers for money.

Matt was getting increasingly angry with her. He looked at her again,

her eyes impossibly wide and big.

"Alright, it’s just a dime. Now take your film and please, leave," he surrendered.

She turned around to walk out of the store, then stopped, and turned back around.

"Now what?" Matt groaned.

"When’s your break?"

"Is it any of your business?"

"Well, no, but I’d like to take a picture of you. I’m a photographer, and I’m

travelling through Tennessee. My room’s simply covered with pictures I’ve taken over

the past four years. Please?" This all came out in one huge sentence, almost too fast

for Matt to take in. He found him self telling her his break was in just a few minutes and

that of course she could take a picture of him. She walked outside and sat down on a

wooden bench. Matt called himself an idiot.

Tabby strode into the store five minutes later, her camera hanging on her neck.

The boy was still slouching at the register sullenly, his shaggy brown hair covering his

eyes. He looked up at her, puzzled, and then realization hit. He groaned and jumped

over the counter and walked outside with her.

"So, are you serious?" he asked her.

"About what?" she replied, puzzled.

"This whole picture thing."

Her face said it all. "Of course I am! I don’t spend my whole paycheck on gas

money and film for nothing. Hey, what’s your name, anyways?"

"Matt," Matt said. "And you?"

"Tabby. Or Tabitha LaBue, if you want to be more formal. Now, here, lean

against the wall like that... yes, just like that, and... there!" her camera clicked, and she

smiled as if she had just won a gold medal.

"Thanks a lot. I just needed a picture of a teenager from Tennessee," she

informed Matt.

"No problem," he lied. Tabby giggled. "What’s so funny this time?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just, you're such a good actor. I think you actually liked having someone take

your picture! Well, it was nice meeting you," she said, and then burst into a nother fit of

bubbly giggling.

"What is it now?" Matt demanded.

"Like I said, nothing. Hey, Matt, are you, by any chance, a football player?" she asked.

"Um...yeah?"

"I knew it!" Tabby squealed. "Well, I'm just gonna get going." She walked up to a

green Neon and opened the driver side door and slid in. The engine grumbled for a while,

and then began to work properly. Matt ran clumsily to her car. Tabby rolled down the window.

"Yes?"

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Tabby began to drive away.

"Wait!" Matt yelled.

She slammed on the brakes. "From Seattle! " she called, then tore out of the gas station, the greeen Neon squealing all the way.

Matt watched her leave, as puzzled as ever, and then went back to work. He

didn’t complain the rest of the day, waiting to wake up from this bizarre dream. It was not

until he was home that Matt realized none of this had been a dream. And that confused him. It mad him sad. But, for reasons he did not understand, it gave him hope.

Already over a hundred miles away, Tabby was speeding along the interstate. Had she been a passenger, and not the driver, she would be transfixed by the beautiful scenery, and the white lines

whizzing by beneath her. But her hands were gripping the wheel, knuckles white with the intensity of it. Suddenly her vision was blurred by tears. She wasn't ready to go back to Seattle.

She didn't want to face reality.

(I know, the ending is pretty bad.[as in, worst than the rest of it]sorry.. but i DID say i needed critiques.)