Young Writers Society

Jamie peered through squinted eyes to look at the clock. 4:30 a.m. and her roommate, Caramia, was already awake and putting on her face. Jamie rolled her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Classes didn’t start until 7 a.m. and they lived on campus! Jamie rolled over to watch Caramia at work.

First, she turned on the flat iron. Then the make-up process began: foundation, to even out her already perfect skin; mascara, to lengthen flirtatious eyelashes; eye shadow, to accentuate dark eyes like drops of honey; blush, to accent cheekbones; and lipstick, to spice up Angelina Jolie lips. She picked up the flat iron and grabbed a handful of jet black hair. It cracked and popped as it slid between the hot plates. Chemicals sizzled, leaving behind a burnt smell that curled Jamie’s noise.

Jamie could not watch another second of this or she would surely barf. She rolled back over and simmered green. Caramia had a date tonight. Caramia probably had a date for tomorrow night, too. If not, she would soon enough.

Caramia was hot.

Jamie was not.

After Caramia left, Jamie got up. She glanced at the clock which read 6:24. Jamie began her process: deodorant, to smell better throughout the day; hairbrush, to rid her long auburn hair of tangles; and cereal, because she had no money to go to Starbucks and no intentions of becoming anorexic. Next she threw on a pair of jeans and a light yellow t-shirt with a faded rainbow across the front with the caption: “follow the rainbow.”

Jamie grabbed her coat and headed for class.

The leaves danced resplendently in the wind and the flowers were bright with color. Jamie loved the spring, but she loved the summer even more. She was glad it was almost here. As she walked to class she observed the students on the walkways around her. Some she knew and some she didn’t and some were...Keith. She sighed in awe of him, watching his blonde hair dance in the wind. She melted as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his Hollister jeans. As she gathered her nerves to go talk to him, Caramia strode over and kissed him on the cheek. Jamie watched as they locked together, arm in arm. Her jaw dropped and she simmered green, once more.

She followed far behind, watching as every romantic gesture they made twisted her insides a little tighter each time. As They turned into Sophomore English, she went straight into Advanced Literature. She spotted Brenna and Chantal and sat down next to them. Brenna smiled through tufts of black hair which crowded around her porcelain face. Her make-up was light, except for her eye shadow which was meant to play up her emerald eyes. Chantal was playing it cool because on the other side of her was her boyfriend, Randy. Chantal’s chocolate hair was corn-rowed and pulled up into two spiraled nubs.

“Your hair looks really cute, Chantal.” Jamie whispered.

“Thanks,” she whispered back.

Class was very interesting. It was always this way with Jamie, though. Today Miss Hanson lectured on several poems including one of Jamie’s favorites, “Meeting at Night” by Robert Browning. She always wished she had a love like that. A secret love filled with passion and romance. She sighed, laying her head down on the desk.

After class they went to the local coffee shop to discuss their summer plans.

“Randy and I are planning to go to Miami for the summer. Aren’t we, Randy?” Chantal said, patting his thigh.

“That’s right, baby.” He played along, wearing a large grin.

“How about you guys?” Chantal inquired, taking a sip of her mocha shake.

Brenna leaned back in her chair, “I’m going to England to study Literature further.”

Jamie shook her head, “I envy you going to England, but I don’t envy the work you’re going to have. And over the summer!”

“Well what are you doing?” Brenna asked, stirring her latte.

“I’m going home to help my mom. She needs me right now and I haven‘t been there for her.” Jamie replied, watching the foam in her coffee swirl and pop, purposely avoiding eye contact.

“How is she doing?” Brenna asked.

“Better. She’s in remission now, but the doctor’s say it could come back. She stopped Chemo a couple of weeks ago, so she’s still weak. I just want to help get her life back to normal. I want to put this behind us.”

“It’s not your fault, you know?” Chantal condoned, reaching for Jamie’s hands.

“I know,” she looked up at Chantal, “but I still feel bad for leaving her all alone. Ever since dad left it’s been me and her and now…it’s just her.”

Chantal sighed.

Summer came rapidly and Jamie found herself dreading to go home. She wanted to be with her mom, but she didn’t want to see her weak and fragile. Her mom had always been strong and independent, especially after Jack left seven years ago. Jamie felt as if she were in a trance. One minute she was packing her things and the next she was halfway home.

Usually the radio would be on, music pouring through the speakers. Most days she would sing along at the top of her lungs and as bad as she sounded she would sing anyway. Today; however, silence filled the car, as well as Jamie’s mind. She had shoved her thoughts away with her luggage.

As her house came into view she held her breath, hoping that, somehow, when she walked through the front door her mother would be the same as before she left for college two years ago. Pulling into the driveway, Jamie noticed the landscaping was in mint condition. Jamie knew her mother loved to garden, but she thought because of her illness she wouldn’t have the strength to.

Jamie turned off the car instinctively and sat staring blankly ahead. After a few seconds she shook out of her stupor. Once she reached the front door she stopped to examine every crack in the burnt red brick and every leaf on the ivy crawling up the house. Jamie took a deep breath and pushed the doorbell. It seemed heavier than normal.

Then she waited.