I find it funny that you can find yourself lost in a memory, remembering the least significant components about what was happening better then the main event.
It was five weeks ago, only thirty-five days back from today. I had been sitting at my computer desk, deep in thought. A two pieces of office paper laid silently screaming on the wooden surface, glaring at me. I had always yelled at someone who had ever read my mail, already open or not, but there I had done it myself. I guess the hospital emblem on the front of one of them and the fact that they were both already open intrigued me far too much for my own good.
After the shock of the first letter, I took the next unopened letter into my hands. After reading the front, I dropped the letter. I had slumped in my seat, trying to realize exactly what I had read. My pocket vibrated, going off with an alarm. Glancing at the computer clock, I noticed that I had to go wait for my little brother at his bus stop. I stumbled up from my seat, gripping the desk to steady myself. Taking four deep breathes, I placed the letters where I had found them, mentally battering myself, telling myself that I had to suck it up and just go with it.
No one needed to know that something was wrong. No one needed to know that I knew.
Yet.
At the front hallway I slipped on a beige trench coat and gripped onto my hook-handled umbrella. Stepping out the door and into the rain, I propped open the umbrella and strode out into the down pour. I drifted to the bus stop, twirling the umbrella with my eyes on the ground.
Like every other day, at the bus stop stood two parents, and I was sure that another was walking somewhere behind me. Today was the father of two little girls and a mother of another little girl. The father caught me eye and smiled in greeting.
"Hey. How's it going?" He asked.
Returning the gesture, I replied, "Hi. It's going, thanks. How are you?"
"Good, good."
We ended our 'hellos' and I sat on a wooden garden box edge, moving my jacket from beneath me as to not get it wet. I looked to the mother and grinned as she did so.
"Hello Piper."
I felt bad that I didn't know her name. I'll admit that I never thought that I would need to know her name and I continue to think that even after she addresses me by my name every day.
"Hullo."
Like every other day that I trudged outside to retrieve my brother, after greetings, everyone was quiet. I was thankful for it. The streets were lined with cars on the other side of the street, and on my side of the street water flowed down hill and into a water drain. Absentminded, I lift one of my hands to grab a lock of my hair and twirl it around my index finger.
Foot falls approached and I peered up over my glasses at the man who neared. He was holding a umbrella in his right hand with a Tinkerbell umbrella hanging from a loop on his wrist. In the left hand he was holding a cigarette to his mouth. He looked at me and jetted his head up. Not missing a blessed beat, I copied the movement before focusing on the street. As he passed me, he tossed the cancer stick into the street, not to far from me.
I pursed my lips, watching the red glisten of the smoking tip. Red soon faded to orange once the wet cement met the glistening amber, yet the cigarette did not burn out. The smoke twisted and turned, looping itself into the sky. Each wave of the gray cloud would wind in the breeze, churning the air around it. After causing its own disturbance, it would seemingly disappear— but it can't just vanish, it had to of gone somewhere. Behind my eyes I was imagining the burning grinds of who knows that that was in the rolled paper, curling like frost bitten leaves, but with an opposite affect; Heat rather than chill… crisping to the point of no return, then withering and falling to ashes.
The low rumble of the bus and its old engine threw off my train of thought and I got up automatically. I shuffled over closer to where the yellow vehicle paused to let off five children. The last child off hopped down from the bus, his black curls bouncing with him. He heaved his light backpack over his shoulder before bounding over to me.
"Pip! I got to make a dream catcher at school today!"
His green eyes sparkled naively and he swept his hair from his pale forehead. Of course, his curly bangs only swung back into place. He pointed to his chest with a wide grin. My attention skipped over what was hanging from his neck and instead I wedged a smile onto my face.
"That's great Demetri! I'm sure it will look good above your bed," I bent down and ruffled his hair. He frowned but then realized what I had said.
"Do you mean they actually work?!" he exclaimed. The parents chuckled as they filed by with their children. I don't remember what I said in response. Instead, I remember telling him to stay on the side walk. I then stepped into the street and stomped on the cigarette.
To get rid of some disturbances…
You have to get rid of the source.