Young Writers Society

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Yes. My Mom felt that I needed to talk to someone.”

“Why is that?”

I shifted my position and put my foot underneath my thigh. Was it me or was it unnatrually hot in here. “Because she thinks I’ve changed.” i said glancing at the bottles of water she had on top of what looked like a mini bar in the corner

I looked up at her She reminded me of Dr. Melfi from the Soprano’s I wondered if she was an undercover alcoholic also seeing a therapist. How funny would that be.

“ How?”

I glanced over at the name plate on her Desk Dr.Morano. she was probrobly Itailan how ironic. Looking at her she had the potential to be pretty if she did something with herself..Her hair was brown pulled back with a hair comb, did they even sell those anymore? and she had Semi-rimless glasses with those decoritave chains so it could fall around her neck. She would give me this weird half smiled from time to time during the awkward silences which made her seem unsure of her self clicking her pen ready to write at any moment the noise irritated me i just wanted to give her a pen with a cap or better yet a pencil so the noise would stop.

“How have you changed?” she asked again.

“ I don’t know.. .. Look I didn’t want to come here okay.. I was forced into it.”

“ No one is forcing you to stay here if you want to go just leave.” her eyes directing me to the door.

“ Yeah right. Well the second I do my Mom will be notified and then….”

“ And then what?” I sat down on my hands I started to feel anxious . I looked at her she looked at me .. and she smiled again That went on for 2 minutes until she asked.. “How do you feel right now?” I closed my eyes and rolled my neck around. I was feeling both tense and anxious. But I didn’t tell her that. “annoyed.”

“Why?”

“because your asking me a million questions after another and its getting on my nerves.”

We stared at one another for another minute. I gave a sigh..

“Everyone thinks that if I talk ill go back to who I was.. “

“Who were you before?”

“ well , I was happy for one…”

“ And you're not now?"

I shrugged.

“Why don’t we start like this tell me a bit about yourself.”

“what do you want to know?”

“Everything.. Who are you?” I gave her a look of disgust.

“umm.. Im seventeen? Im a Senior?.. I don’t know..” I rolled my eyes . “this is stupid.”

“listen Kelsey , im here to listen not judge anything you say to me stays with me,”

I looked at her again and she gave me that awkward smile.. I gave up. It wasn’t what she said but how she said it I knew that being difficult wasn’t going to help.

“My mom decided that I should come here because to her I’ve changed.”

“yes you said that before . How have you changed?”

“I don’t know.. Im .. Quiet.? “

“ Well tell me this your mother said you’ve had some serious loss in your life.. Your father when you were ten and recently a friend?.”

“"What was it like to lose your father when you were so young?"

“ I… it was great? What kind of question is that It was awful. He was diagnosed with Leukemia when I was four and after Chemo Treatments he was in remission for two years and we all thought it was over, it would never return ; but it did and after a year of different treatments and no change. He called it quits and spent his last year traveling with my mom and I. he was dying .. And then he died.” i could hear her scribbling away while i talked i could only guess she was finally happy to be writing something giving her face a break from faking another smile.

“Do you still thing about it?” she looked up at me expectantly

“Yes and no. he had no control so its okay. .. I mean not okay but we knew it was coming so ..I think about him alot i mean I miss him everyday he was great"

"how about your mom? how is your relationship with her?"

"it's great I mean after my dad past away we got closer.. were still close she's just concerned for me thats why im here."

she started jotting things down and looked up .. I knew what was coming and yet I still wasn’t prepared for it nor was I going to answer this question.

“how about the other loss your friend Cody?” she asked as she flipped back and forth through her notes..

“Cory. “

“yes Im really sorry was his death unexpected?”

I ran my hand through my hair and griped on my ponytail. Keeping my mouth shut I refused to talk about this with anyone… especially someone who didn’t even say his name right.. She clearly had the information right in front of her and still got his name wrong.

“Your mom says that you refuse to talk about him.”

I started shaking my legs I could feel it happening the tightening of my chest the lump in my throat.

“ are you okay?”

“ no…” in between gasps ..”

"what are you feeling..?”

"my …..heart hurts…I….can..cant breath…”I stood up. gasping for air

"here " she got up and handed me a bottle of water.. “take a few sips and breath.”

I chugged it and sat back down taking little breaths in-between.

“how do you feel now?” she asked after a few minutes

“a little bit better."

“how often do you get these panic attacks?”

“ I don’t know…. Maybe at least twice a day.”

" Does it come on it’s own or is it triggered by something."

" It varies "

“When did it start.” It wasn’t hard to remember that answer ….

I was sitting in my room oblivious to anything or anyone around me, “Kelsey! Kel!!” I looked up. “Im going over to Mona’s do you want to come with me sweetie?”

All I saw were her lips moving but I shook my head no because I didn’t care what she had to say, all I wanted to do was stay right where I was. I felt a cool feeling on my face, what was happening? I looked up and found the source, it her again. Of course she wasn’t going to allow that to be my answer. Maybe if I ignored her she would just leave. I tried pulling away but she wouldn’t let my face go.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?” yes I can hear you she gave no indication that I said anything.

“Sweetie you couldn’t have prevented it, it was an accident.”

If she only knew .. I could have prevented it with just one word this wouldn’t have happened he would be alive and not in a coffin. I felt her arms hold me in a tight embrace and it dawned on me that I was crying.

“it’s going to be okay .. Look, Mona’s expecting me im going over there now, if you decide to come you know she’ll want to see you.”

I wanted to so bad but I couldn’t. She let go of me laid me down and kissed me on my forehead. The next sound I heard was her car pulling out of the driveway and Then it went Dark. ..

I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. I felt under my pillow for my cell phone and saw it was Seven twenty three am. I held the number 2 for speed dial he was probably up. It was automatically sent to voice mail which I found kind of odd he always kept his phone on.

“Yea its me I know I didn’t pick up.. don’t worry ill call you back just leave me a message.”

“Hey Loser why is your phone of-” it came rushing at me so fast that I sat up and threw the phone I couldn’t catch my breath , I felt my heart being squeezed I threw the covers off of me and stood up.

How could I forget, I went into my bathroom and stood in front of the mirror urging what ever was holding on to my heart to release it . I fumbled with the faucet and splashed cold water on my neck and chest. I took in a few deep breaths and finally it was released. There was a knock on my bedroom door my mom walked in calling my name and turned into the bathroom and saw me leaning over the sink.

“Are you okay?” . ..

“the day of the funeral.”

“ so basically for two months now since that day?” she even knew when his funeral was and she still said the wrong name? how much had my mom told her?..

“If you know all this why are you asking all these questions? Since I’ve gotten here It’s been question after question we jump from one topic to another, It makes me feel crazy and what’s worse is that you already know the fucking answers to everything. Except of course my best friends name!”

“Did that upset you, me getting his name wrong?”

what the fuck was this? .. “yes it upset me because you know that his FUNERAL WAS TWO MONTHS AGO !YOU KNOW THAT MY DAD DIED! YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE THESE STUPID ATTACKS! BUT YET YOU MADE A STUPID MISTAKE WITH HIS NAME!”

“Im sorry I did that it was an honest mistake.” I untied my pony tail and re did it again

“The meaning for all of this is to get to the core of things the reason your mom thinks you need to talk to someone is she feels like there’s some things your keeping inside and she also feels these attacks have everything to do with it. Yes I do know something’s due to my conversation with your mom, So that I could learn as much as I could to help you. I ask questions to see if your telling me the truth I ask questions to see how your effected about certain things in your life to rule out what exactly is triggering all of this .. Im telling you this because I want to help you, and I want you to be able to get rid of this burden you have over your friends death.. Ill tell you what I do know.. I know that you were there that night .I know that you tried to save him, and I know that you probably have what’s called survivors guil- I jumped up

“You don’t know shit. Survivors guilt my ass try knowing that you were the cause of your best friend being killed try that ! Try standing there and watching fifteen guys beat up on your best friend and you try everything to stop It and there’s nothing you could do. Try laying over him while… while he is bleeding and pleading for them to stop and still they continue to kick the shit out of you and him until someone finally decides to say that the cops are coming and only then does it stop. Try holding his head in your arms he is bleeding everywhere and no one is there to help and the whole time he’s looking at you asking -….as…asking if your okay. And final -finally when the cops and ambulance decide to come try having to be the one to call his mom to let her know that because of this concert that I bought tickets for as a surprise to him and because I wouldn’t let some fuckers grope me her son alone tried to protect me and instead he was KILLED. How does someone get over that ? Can you tell me ? How does someone move on with their life when they were the cause of their best friends death? Being a survivor has nothing to do with ..with ….my personality change .. Its being a mur..-derer that’s changed me." tears were gushing down my face and my nose was stuffy and runny that I could barley breath. I grabbed the bottle of water and walked out. Standing right outside the doorway clearly hearing my rant was my mother tears in her eyes ready to throw her arms around me.. I couldn’t even look at her.. I walked right past her and went out the front door right before hearing the therapist tell my mom that it was a breakthrough.

After about a year my mom joined a group for wives who either lost or were married with men with Cancer Which was where she met Mona who lost her husband 1 year earlier she was a single mother with an 12 year old son named Cory Blond Hair Green Eyes a replica of his father. Which was what Mona would say every time. And when Seeing pictures for my self it was true, his father was an extremely good looking man, and though I never met his father looking at Photos with him and Mona you would wonder what they saw in one another. Though She was beautiful, with long brown hair that reached her behind that never saw scissors except for a slight trim and funky jewelry which were made by her an artist and environmentalist, he was a Lawyer, but it pictures as different as they looked you could tell they were madly in love with one another. But, so it began our friendship with them, we were both incapable, when we got to High school we ended up in the same school and were both overjoyed, Though Everyone thought we had a thing for one another it was farthest from the truth he truly became a brother to me . breakthrough my ass it was out of anger I even said anything to her.. Forcing me to remember what I didn’t want to remember.

I leaned up against the car and thought back ---

We walked into the house.. The same steps I ran up every day but today the house that I loved looked foreign what waited inside was no longer my best friend. We opened the door and stepped inside straight ahead was a picture of Mona Cory and his dad when Cory was about 4. Sitting down on the couch staring up at the same picture was Mona looking just as I did this morning. My mother didn’t say a word and neither did I my mom took her had and lead her upstairs whispering in her ear that she was going to help her get dressed. That seemed to wake her up from her daze cause she nodded though nodding could have easily been her answer for everything. I told myself I had to pull myself together for the funeral. Two days ago Mona asked me to say something and of course I told her that I would unfortunately at the time it really hadn’t hit me and I still didn’t know what I was going to say. My mom came back down and took a seat on the couch next to me.. She gave me a weak smile and I did the same.

“Is she alright?” I asked. My mom gave a sigh.

“Honestly I don’t know . She’s getting dressed now but .. I can only imagine how she’s going to be from now on .. To loose a child and a husband. Do you know what your going to say?” she asked

“No.”

“Don’t worry it’ll come to you" she said and gave my hand a pat. Mona came down a few min later her hair pulled back in a French braid probably done by my mom in an all black loose fitted dress and gave us a smile. At the same moment there was a knock on the door my mom went to answer it and it was the limo.. Mona took a deep breath and walked out towards the limo. My heart started to contract yet again and I followed behind her.