Life Happened

I did not now. Not yet. Not then.

It was not supposed to happen this way, you know. Not in high school anyway. High school is not the place to encounter the most memorable experience of your life or that of the person in that matter. High school: it is very much like a waiting room, we are supposed to wait there; wait until we get out. And then, only then, life starts. Or so I thought. It is funny actually everything started in this waiting room of my school.

I loved playing soccer. It is fascinating yet simple game, very famous in the old world. It is very simple to play, you don't need anything to be in the game or any body; you can play it on your own. You can make a ball out of your useless newspapers or countless print out stories. You just robbed them together make a ball-like shape and start kicking it forward; toward your imagery kale. Brazilians are known the play this on their street corners or on the beach. To make things complicated, for we human come not to like simplicity and regard it as something retrograding, we create hierarchy for soccer too. Now we are to have two teams to play the game and of 11 players for each team, we have all this rules and regulations, and of course don't forget referees. They are the ones who know and impose the rules in the game. They are the one who calls the shots. Mind you, in 1966 World Cup, Germany lost the final game to England for the goal that was not goal at all for the ball did not cross the goal line. But the referee thought he saw it did pass across the line. So England won the game; became World Champion. The Referees. They have been known with their mistakes. Yet they have been famous to have the last word in subject matter.

It is a simple game but that does not mean that you cannot get hurt. Actually, the more you lose yourself into it, the more it is possible you get hurt. You possible care less and think less when you start feeling this fever in you. You just stop looking around it is only you and the ball and you target. You need to reach there it is not thinking or wanting anymore; once the need take over your rational, then feeling rules you in the game. Then you are more likely susceptible to injuries. Though at that point you don't care anymore.

But I should have, I should have known it would not been only a game. This life. It is more than a game. Even more complicated and confusing, it was not supposed to start just then. They called my mom and dad, I was lying on the field, they took me to this waiting room for the doctor to examine the injuries. I told them it was nothing serious; I would just go home; put some ice, and take some aspirin. It would go away. All I need was to rest. My mom came flying. Angry as always "I told you so" line was in her eyes.

"I know I know, I will be careful next time mom," I said.

She looked at me: "Let's see the doctor first, then we would know better when and how the next time is going to be."

We were in the waiting room. Then they came. That boy, I was searching around in every break or in every lunchtime or after school. But he was never alone. This time, too, he came into room with his dad. Apparently he got injured in his football training. My mom were sitting next to the Dad. They started talking about 'Ahh we (kids) like sports a lot; but how careless we are; that we give them almost hearth attack…."

As the saying goes, the rest is history.

She did not even realize when my dad came through the door into the waiting room. Obviously their time was up. She wanted her life to take a turn from the one she had been leading for the last 20 years. The one she thought desperately failed but still there would be other turns, right. After all you cannot stop living at the age of 40. And, my mom was not going to lose time in waiting rooms or in home in that matter. Waiting for husband to realize he had a wife and two kids and responsibilities; that he needed to grow up.

I did not now then. I thought she should give my dad and us another chance. Or as many chances as we needed. Not yet. And she was right, I spent much of my time being angry first at my mom not to let things stay as they were for better or worse. After all, Is it not what marriage vowels is about? It must have been hard on her though come to think of it. Even her own dad, my grad pa Phil was on dad's side, needless to say so was her own stubborn daughter. Grandpa Phil was supporting my dad's case all the way to the end. And Rick's coming into our life or into our home did not help my mom either; if anything, it made it worse for a men-coalition (My Dad and Grandpa) used to lead our life at home, if not ruled us altogether. So, my mom became regarded as a deviant for a while. In this patriarchal home we used to live, she was put in a position where she was seen as the one who was turning away from her marriage and her home; the one who was betraying us all and who was to take the blame. Even I thought that for a long time. Silly me. I did not know.

But then she did not let me know everything either. My mom thought I could not handle it for in my eyes my dad was this ideal, perfect dad(or he was supposed to be, after all why do we need dads for. "How could he do this to us" all I could say when I finally faced with the truth. I learned what really drove my mom away from my dad and at the end my dad away from our home and our life. The truth. How many different shades in it in different lights and angles? I wonder now. But I did not know then. Not yet. Do I know now?

"…Miss. Manning? Grace…"

I just realized I am in the same room I was in 3 years ago. And I was daydreaming. That is not a good sign. I know better then that. But this dreading room. But there is no dad or mom in the horizon for rescue me this time. I am more alone than I have ever been. Not even a friendly face in this entire school. No maybe that is an exaggeration. Some ask with real friendly concern how I have been: Cynthia, A.J., even Spencer came to talk to me yesterday. He said he just saw me and wanted to say "Hi". A year too late, maybe? Katie and Jessie are supportive too. We did have lunch together at the same table. But when these annoying looks and whispering will go away, if ever? "Soon!" Cynthia and Katie said at the same time; "Wait till the next gossip hits the wall, you will be forgotten in no time." So we need another victim? Obviously, Yes we do, this is high school after all. And I know better now. Even in high school we all need real-live action!

"Grace, would you mind coming to my room so we can start our session?" Ms Carmen asked politely but with little patience this time.

Last week it was decided on my behalf what I need was a good old therapy session in my school, so that everybody would feel they had done on their part to make things better for every body involved. He was already gone, they all know. But I still am there so they would experiment on me to see if their system is indeed in tact. Funny they think I should need to see a therapist; but the girl who is stalking on her teacher and classmate is free as bird. These referees. Well you already know what I think about them.

I entered to Ms. Carmen's room, took a sit. She sat on across from me.

"So Grace what would you like to talk about today."

"I don't know", I started with my trade mark answer, "it is their idea that I should see you. So, what would you want me to talk about?"

'I can tell from her face; we have long battle ahead of us.' Ms Carmen took her first notes into her notebook.