Just a little something I thought up a while ago and just now decided to post. Not quite sure where it's going, but that's half the fun, isn't it?
A small girl sat on the floor, playing with a toy doll. Her two older brothers lay on the couch, asleep. Her mother stood to kiss the child's father goodbye. Tears shone in the mother's eyes. He was leaving again. He had to, but she didn't like it. The man's tall shadow followed him as he walked out the door. The woman held back a sob.
The child looked up at her distressed mother. She was only one, but understood enough. Daddy was going away again.
Night filtered through the slightly open windows. The microwave clock read 9:45. It was the child's bedtime, but her mother was to upset to notice. It might be years before he came back.
The girl stood up, her fall hanging limp from her hand. She wobbled to the front window. Her green eyes gazed out to the street beyond. She saw her father walking away. She gave a soft cry. He looked up at her. He gave her a sad smile. The wind pulled at his black hair. He began walking again. And then he was gone, taken by the night.
"Helen!"
Helen jerked her head from the book in her lap. Her mother shoved the door open, finally finding her daughter sitting in her closet.
"Come on, time for school."
Helen rolled her eyes. Her mother glared at her and Helen issued a quick apology. She stood up, book tucked safely under her arm, and exited the closet.
Her mom wore her work uniform, black pants and a red top. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled into a bun. She worked at a dinner in down town New York. She hated the job, but they needed money.
Their house showed why. It wasn't even a house, but a tiny apartment. Helen had lived their ever since she could remember. It was only a half kitchen (oven, counter, fridge) a table with two worn out chairs, a sofa, and a TV. She and her mom used to share the one bed, but ever since Helen's nightmares started, she had been forced to move to the couch. That was when she was about ten. Helen's two older brothers would take turns sleeping on the couch and on a cot. But they had long left. Liam and Jami were twins, Jami being a little older and more mature. The two had left as soon as they could.
Liam would visit sometimes, but Helen hadn't seem the other twin in over a year. He called though.
Helen grabbed up her back pack from the sofa and headed for the door. Her mom followed. She always walked Helen to the bus stop, more for safety than anything else. They lived in a bad part of town.
The bus was already waiting. Helen gave her mom a quick hug, then boarded. Crowded as usual. Their apartment was always the last stop.
Finally she found a spot in the very back.
Helen sat down, trying not to make eye contact with the other students. Tenth grade, yippee. She was sixteen, so she could technically drive, but who had space for a car in New York? Even her mom didn't drive. She had to use the bus.
The bus lurched to a stop. Traffic. Exactly why no one drove. If would be several minutes before the bus started again.
Helen took her phone out of her bag and plugged her ear buds in. The phone was a dinosaur. It was her mom's old phone. Most other kids had a smart phone. Helen had a dumb phone. But at least it worked.
She turned her music up and tried to let the world drown out.
It was half an hour later that the bus arrived at school. It was a crummy public school, its bricks covered in graffiti, sidewalk lined with trash. Kids hid out by the dumpster smoking and drinking. High school.
The bus ground to halt, it's wheels making a grinding sound. Slowly it unloaded. The students swarmed out like an angry beehive.
Helen was one of the last to get out. She breathed fresh air through her nose. God, the bus smelled.
Already she was late. Helen began to jog toward the front doors. The flow of bodies had slowed to just a few. She was nearly there when the floor suddenly met her hard in the face. Helen let out a painful grunt. Her body was soaking. She had slipped in a puddle of sewage, her face getting close up treatment.
She tried to stand, but slipped back down into the filth.
Her second try proved more fruitful. Helen got to her feet and ran into school, still dripping.
The halls were empty and class was in session. Helen rolled her eyes and sighed. To the front office then.
The door opened with a groan and closed just the same. Every eye in the class was on the poor soul who had the misfortune of being late.
She was indeed a sight to see.
Her long black hair hung in tangled knots. She wore black jeans and a dark grey sweat shirt, both of which were soaking wet and stunk horribly. Her black sneakers were covered in mud. She wore no makeup other than eyeliner below her bottom lashes, which where now smudged.
On one shoulder hung her backpack, on her other hand was a tardy pass.
Poor Helen Branson.
Helen dropped the pass onto the teacher's desk and rushed to her seat. Her third week of school and she had already screwed things up. Typical.
Helen yawned. She had only gotten about two hours of sleep. Her nightmares were getting worse.
Her classes were uneventful. Math and history blurred by in daydreams. She slept through most of health. There was P.E. which Helen actually kind of enjoyed. Whatever they did, she was never the strongest or the best. But she could out run anyone by a mile. And her reflexes were insane.
Last class, biology.
She sat down at her desk, the one in the back left, and put her head down.
She heard the teacher say something but Helen didn't hear.
She looked up at the board and groaned. Frog dissection. They had hardly even gone over the subject.
Helen buried her head in her hands as the teacher passed out the kits. She then chose several 'volunteers' to carry out the deceased amphibians. The class was assigned groups of three. Helen was grouped with a red headed boy with an annoying cough and tall lanky girl with a habit of popping her fingers. Both of which names Helen quickly forgot.
The frog was passed out in a plastic baggy. Its frozen corpse looked pale and ugly. It smelled worse. The red head was chosen to take it out and pin it to the tray. Juices squirted from the frog as he picked it up. He looked as if he might gag, even though he wore thick rubber gloves.
As quickly as he could, the boy pinned down the frog's limbs and backed away, disgusted.
Helen rolled her eyes. The baby. She realized she rolled her eyes a lot. That was the third time that mourning. She inwardly shrugged and the group started on the frog.
Each had to cut a part of it open and fill things out on a paper. It was boring, disgusting work.
Helen was elected to cut open the frog's chest and stomach.
She took the scalpel and cut a line down the frog. Then she pulled apart the sides and the girl of her group pined them back.
Helen gazed at the frog's organs. She was drawn to the heart. It had once pumped blood through the animal, keeping it alive. Look where it was now.
Her eyes traced each vein in the creature's body, marveling at how it worked. Without thinking, she reached out and touched the frog's tiny heart.
As soon as her fingers made contact, a shiver ran through her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head and what felt like an electric shock went from her to the body pinned in front of her.
The girl next to her shrieked.
Helen's eyed snapped open. Her heart was racing and she felt light headed.
The girl cried out again. The boy then began calling for the teacher, hysterical.
What the heck is wrong with them? Thought Helen. Then she looked where the girl's finger was pointed.
The frog's body was jerking, its legs flailing around as the pulled free of the pins. Its eyes shot open and darted around. Helen's eyes grew wide. Then she looked at the open wound on the frog's body. Its heart was beating furiously. The frog was alive!
The teacher was now at the table trying to calm the girl, who was now bawling like a child. Then she was the frog. Her eyes went wild and she stepped back, terrified.
The frog was a grotesque creature, it flailing around and spilling blood everywhere.
It's going to bleed to death, though Helen.
She reached for the frog and pulled its limbs free from the pins. It flipped over and tried to hop away, but the cut on its belly kept it from moving far.
Helen felt a pang of guilt. She was after all the one who had cut it open.
She picked up the frog and flipped it over, wondering what to do.
Turns out, she didn't have to do much. The frog stilled, but it wasn't dead. The open flesh began to move, growing over the exposed organs. It shuddered, its body healing. Soon, the frog was whole again. Completely healed.
Helen sighed in relief. For some reason, she really wanted that frog to live. She turned around, realizing the entire class was watching.
Their eyes were wide and several girls cried out when they saw the frog, alive and well.
"Wha-" asked the teacher, dumbstruck.
Helen shrugged. "Guess the frog didn't want to stay dead." She said simply.
With that she walked to her desk and put the frog in her backpack. This little guy would be going home with her.
The others were still froze, terrified of her. Helen just sat down at her desk and finished filling out her paper.
