Dragon.
Born of fire from dragon's breath,
Living forever; no sting of death.
Her topaz eyes, flickering cold,
Wings majestic, plates of gold.
As she flies she seems to dance with glee,
Her wings spread wide against the crystal sea.
She stops and turns to gaze at night,
Disbelieving that no one runs from fright.
Her claws like iron, her grip like steel,
Yet no one believes that this dragon is real.
Her wings she again raises from the ground,
So swiftly does she move, not making a sound.
The darkness caresses her as she flies,
No light to be found to guide weary eyes.
She gently soars in the stillness of night,
Knowing that she is no longer in sight.
Vitality fills her heart, as wind does her wings,
And now she cannot help but sing,
for she is more lovely than any old thing.
-Savannah Carter
Prologue.
Some people say that a picture says a thousand words. If that's true than I believe that a kiss says a million. Though I've never had a kiss, that is what I believe.
A picture can say things like "happy, excited, forlorn, ardent," and other words such as that.
A kiss can say things like "excited, awkward, searching, desperate, overwhelmed, confused, overjoyed," as can it say everything a picture says and more.
My only regret in life is that I have been loved to the highest level and I have not loved back nearly as much.
I have opened my heart up too wide, as an open book would and others have slammed me shut, thrown me on the floor and trampled on me. Others, however, have reached out to me. They stretched out a hand to help me up off the ground. But, like a dog I bite the hand of the one's who try to help. Too afraid that they will throw me back down on the ground and never again look down at me too help me back up.
This is why I, Cecilia Ryan, am a writer. Just like a tortoise, I hide away in my shell. From the rest of the world, solely for the purpose of not being trampled on. Writing is my shell; my security blanket; my only escape.
I have few friends…acquaintances actually.
I try to think positively about my loneliness. I like to think I am strong and independent and the reason I don't have friends is because I don't need them. Or want them. I like to think of myself as unique. Like a gazelle, graceful and beautiful, in a pack of lions. Then my wild imagination gets the best of me and like a gazelle would be, the world (lions) devours me. Leaving my remains to feed the dust. I suppose I don't really believe in the power of positive thinking.
Sometimes I imagine myself with lots of friends, happy, popular, dating the jocks. Where everyone wants to be around me. Then I snap back to reality and I go to school.
I truly wish that I could be more sociable and have friends. It doesn't even have to be many friends. Just one person that I can talk to. Someone that would understand me. Maybe someday my life will turn into a pleasurable one, but for now I'm a junior living in the terrifying world of High School, if I could call it that. To me, it seemed more like a penitentiary, in the tiny town of Jackson, Ohio. A town of 6,184 people. The penitentiary I went to was also known by the name of Jackson High School and only had 904 students.
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1. Quarrel.
'Cecilia!' one of my "friends" was calling me.
'Cecilia!' Oh wonderful, I thought to myself sarcastically. She called yet again. I pretended not to hear.
'Cecilia! Stop! Why don't you wait for me?'
I whirled around, slightly irritated and sharply said 'What, Stephanie? What?'
'Why don't you ever talk to me? I try to talk to you and you just ignore me.' She questioned me.
I stared at the floor for a while and then said, 'No one cares, Steph.'
She looked at me with a very puzzled face. I didn't try to explain. I don't want to converse. I don't want to interact. Instead I just stared down at my black, bland shoes and ran off down the road.
I am not taking the bus today, I thought to myself. I decided to just walk home. It was only five blocks away. As I walked back I was ultimately engrossed in my deep thoughts. I tried to block out the worst ones. Tried to think lightly, but I had concentrated so deeply and was so intensely in thought, that I hadn't noticed how close I was to home.
I got home and ran into my room and then slammed the door shut. I jumped on my beanbag. Why do they want to be my friend anyway? I never talk to them because I can't stand the fear I have of hurt and rejection and I barely even look at people because I'm too busy staring at my feet because of this fear. It had controlled me. Like a dog on a leash, I was being controlled by this fear.
My younger sister, Alice, and my dad had died three years ago in a fatal car accident caused by a drunken truck driver. My mom and I were never able to see the bodies to say goodbye one last time.
I have this reoccurring dream where my dad comes back, I try to run from him, too afraid to embrace him because I know that he's not real and just as quickly as he appeared, he will disappear.
And as he chases me. I can hear him frantically calling my name. "Lia! Lia! Come here." I didn't want to run to him. I didn't want to be near him in my dream, because somewhere inside me, I know he isn't real and I know he'll never come back for me.
Stephanie's dad had passed away too. Only her dad died about six years ago. I suppose that's why we are so called "friends". She tries to reach out to me. That's immensely surprising to me as I'm not "her crowd". She's the pretty type. She's blond, preppy, tall, thin, fun. The list goes on and on and everyone wants to be her friend. I'm just normal. Bland. My hair is a yucky dishwater blond color. Not brown, not blond- the leftovers. My eyes are a dull shade of a strange greenish, grayish color. Although- Emmit tried to convince me I have unique flakes of gold amidst the green and gray. He didn't convince me near enough. I'm boring. I fail everything. There is nothing special about me. That is the reason I like to in vision myself as a gazelle. Even though, I am not graceful at all and I am very clumsy, it's to make myself feel unique and worth something (after all the lions couldn't survive without me, could they?) I wish I could find someone who understands that about me.
'Cecilia!' My nineteen year old brother, Emmit, interrupted my thoughts.
'Yeeeaaahh?'
'Mom brought home pizza!'
'Okay! Be down in a second!'
Everything is a reminder that something bad is always bound to happen to me.
Em is graduating and leaving for college soon. He refuses to take a leave year to stay with me. He wants to leave because he hates our small town life. As crushed as I am for him to leave, crushed because he is the only one who even remotely understands my anguish, I am happy for him. I'm happy because he's going somewhere with his life. And because he's happy.
'Cecilia!' Now Mom was calling me.
'Yeah, Mom?'
'Come on down! I got you a pack of Oreos…and Dominos!'
'On my way!'
I ran downstairs, grabbed the pack of Oreos and placed three Oreos on my cheese pizza. I suppose that's one unique thing about me. Probably the only thing, but it's a great combo.
'Hey Mom. How was work?' My Mom was an accountant. Even though I really don't care how her counting was going, it's polite to ask.
"Lia, I'm an accountant. Do you truly care? Nothing exciting."
My mom had just used the two most perfect words to describe my life- "nothing exciting."
'How was school?'
'Horrid. I could have shriveled up and died today in Algebra. It's so hard.' I complained.
"You're being slightly dramatic, don't you think?"
'No.'
'Well then, sounds like a fun day!' Mom said, her voice exuding sarcasm.
'Yeah, sure. Whatever.'
'"Whatever", that's all I ever hear from you anymore.'
'Well, If you lived my life it would be your favorite word too'
'Whatever' Mom shot back with a smile, as if she had humored herself. She was mocking me.
Is there anyone in this world who doesn't mock me?
Only my mother would mock me in the ruination that is, my life.
'Ugh!' I growled, 'I'm eating in my room!'
'Okay then. Suit yourself.' Mom said.
I stomped up the stairs and shoved passed Emmit on the way up. He stared at me with a perplexed look spread wide across his face.
I heard Emmit and Mom talking through the vent.
'What was that all about?' Emmit asked.
'She is very negative, isn't she?'
'She's a teenager. She's seventeen, she is in High School. Yeah, she is probably negative.'
'That's no excuse. Only last year you were her age and you weren't like that.'
'Two years ago mom, thank you for paying so much attention to my life, and I was, Mom. I just didn't show it as much as she does and you never paid enough attention. You were too busy with Dad and Alice.I didn't want to cause you any more pain by adding my 'insignificant' problems to an already hurtful time.'
'Oh.'
'"Oh?" Mom, can you at least pretend to care? I've been holding this in for so long, so afraid of what it would do to you. Afraid of what it would do to Lia. I can't show it in front of her. I'm the one she turns to for advice and comfort since clearly she can't run to you. She's going through a hard time and home is her only shelter, Mom. How would you like it if your only shelter turned into…this? Just hear her out.'
Then I heard Em stomp past Mom.
I admired his boldness. I admired the fact that he cared for me enough to stand up to mom like that. For me.
I watched through the vents and Mom watched Emmit walk all the way up the stairs. Her eyes showed heavy remorse. She looked wary.
Mom sighed, long and loud.
'Hey Lia, can I come in?' Em was at my door.
'Yeah. It's open.'
'I heard you talking with Mom.' I said, not caring to look at him as I talked. Staring through the window.
'You did?'
'Uh-huh…through the vents. Thank you.'
'Sure. I meant all that I said, but it's not all Den-' he started to call her by her first name, Denise, and then corrected himself, "Mom's fault. You're giving her a hard time. I can't always be the 'go-between-guy'. Mom's struggling right now. She's trying to keep up a steady homelife for us. She's working extra hours to provide and she's draining herself. And now, you've hit seventeen and she's…worried about you, Lia."
'Do you really have to go off to college?' I changed the subject abrubtly and he wasn't expecting it.
"Lia…c'mon."
"Em…please."
Em looked uncomfortable as he ran his fingers through his hair.
'Yeah, I do. I've got to do something with my life, Lia. You'll be in the same boat next year.'
'But what am I going to do here? What about Mom? What about school? You're the only one who stands up for me, the only one who cares enough about me to do anything! Please, Emmit.'
'Cecilia. You need to start standing up for yourself! You have to come out of your shell sometime. I know I'm your big brother and I know I'm a safe ground for you. Someone you can talk to, who will be there to protect you. But you have to learn to do that yourself. I can't always…', He choked to finish, "I can't always be here, looking out for you. Please, try."
He slowly got up and walked out. I looked in his eyes and I saw that he was genuinely worried for me. I knew he was, but it helped to see it.
I cried myself to sleep. I had the dream again and woke up in the middle of the night and cried some more. Finally at 3:00 I fell back to sleep.
I woke up the next day. I had been thinking about what Emmit said all night. How I should stand up for myself? How can I try to do it? I've been under the protection of Emmit so long, I couldn't remember. Maybe this was why Emmit needed to go. So that I would find myself.
I walked to my dresser and opened the drawer. Inside was a small note that said '"Find out who you are and do it on purpose."
-Em'
He quoted one of my favorite movies, A Walk To Remember. Though he hated the movie, he always sat through it and watched it with me. I'd never forget any of those moments.
I stuffed the note in my backpack. I packed a cherry tootsie pop (my favorite) for good luck. And I packed some tic-tacs for good breath. I was ready to start today. I was going to try to live my life thoroughly. I was doing it for Emmit, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that I was doing it for me as well.
I decided not to to anything dramatic on my first day as the "new" Cecilia. It was like your first steps- take it slowly and then progress from there.
I dressed casually- Jeans that still fit me from 8th grade, when all my friends had signed, right before the car accident. They made me feel comfortable and loved, even though I had lost track with nearly all of them since High School. I threw on my fitting "Tootsie Pop" t-shirt and my cozy jacket. Grabbed my backpack. Put in my headphones and listened to some Metro Station on my iPod. I also took my cell-phone incase Mom or Em wanted to reach me.
I didn't know how long I was going to be gone today. If it was going to be a bad day, I'd stop at the Hershey's Ice-cream parlor for comfort food. Although, Emmit always knew when I was planning on being there.
I yelled as I ran through the door (so as not to be late for the bus,) " Mom, I'm off. See you later."
I didn't want to sound too cheerful because I still had not forgotten our…dispute.
I hadn't seen Em, so I figured he had nabbed a ride with a friend.
I jumped on the bus and I spotted Stephanie. I went over to sit by her.
I was trying to maintain the focus it took to talk to her without shaking or looking at my feet.
"Hey, Stephanie." I said cautiously.
"Oh, hey Cecilia." She replied, though she seemed bewildered that I had taken the first move in speaking to her.
"So, um, Nice weather today, huh?" As much as I tried, my knees were shaking. I knew I was terrible at small talk.
"Cecilia. It's been rainy the whole month. Half of the town has gone into a deep depression because of it and you find it nice weather?" She sounded mad and confused, but she was hard to read.
"Yes. I love the rain." I said honestly. Stephanie casually laughed. It was a bit of a nervous laugh. You could tell she started to wonder about me.
"Um, Lia, Are you feeling ok? You don't quite seem yourself."
"Steph, I'm fine really. It's just that…" I was going to attempt to lie in order to not have to explain the deep conversation with my brother and the bickering with my mother.
"I just felt…rude about avoiding you the other day is all." I said it so confidently that I, myself almost actually believed it.
"Oh, well, it's not that big a deal, I-" She began but all of a sudden the bus came to an abrupt hault and everyone got loud as they jumped off. I couldn't hear Steph anymore among all of the commotion.
I was astounded at how oddly enthusiastic I was. That usually didn't happen to me. I was mostly shocked at how I managed to survive through the first half of school without feeling even an ounce of self pity. Well, maybe I felt a little, but then I looked over Em's note to me and it washed away like rain. His note destroyed all my negativity. It wasn't just rain, it was acid rain, although from a positive perspective.
