Part V: Elizabeth Harris
*I'm bored. I'm very, very bored. I can't believe how bored I am.^ Blowing air up out of the corner of my mouth I tried to puff my bangs out of my eyes and only partly succeeded. This didn't dishearten me too much since it certainly wasn't life or death important. I tilted my head, which was resting on my right hand, which was resting on the kitchen table by the way of my elbow, and looked out the window with my one uncovered eye. All I saw were the naked trees poking up like twisted hands surrounded by their tossed off clothing. November is a pretty month but no one wanders outside in the nippy air, unless they're feeling an artificial warmth, besides everyone else has somewhere to be at this hour.
It was sort of liberating at first, having nothing pressing on me: responsibilities or drug addiction. Now doing nothing was driving me crazy. My fingers itched. That was pretty much the cause of me picking up the bottle in the first place. I loved my mother but looking back she let me get away with *way* too much. I never had to work, I had money aplenty, I never had to *do* anything, and she never made me. When I finally went too far, even by her loose standards, she still sent me an allowance that was more than most people's wages. I don't know if her not paying for my drug habit would have made me quit sooner. It certainly didn't help. My spoiled brat personality was pretty well entrenched by then, with me even having picked a personal motto: 'I want it and I want it now'. So I doubt it. It's truly amazing how much you can despise yourself given the chance. I groaned. ^God, I'm sinking back into brooding about my sucky choices. I hate brooding.^
Ring. Ring.
I let my arm fall on the rough tabletop as I twisted my head towards the living room in disbelief. ^Who the heck would be calling? All my* friends* went the way of my husband and Xander's in school.^ A lump of terror formed in my belly. ^No. No. No. No.^ I stumbled to my feet, tripping on my skirt hem in my rush to uncross my legs, and by a hair's breadth kept from tasting the floor. Impatient to get to the phone I barely acknowledged my fumblings.
Ring. Ring. *Ring.*
Diving for the phone sitting upon its royal pile of rubbish I slipped on a magazine and half flew half fell on the couch. Somehow I landed with the receiver grasped in my hand and only slightly out of breath. Putting the piece of cheap plastic next to my ear I breathily asked, "Yes?" ^Please let him be okay. Please? He's all I've got left.^ I hadn't realized just how empty my life was till just this moment and it scared me. My son had every reason in the world to hate me and about three from hell not to, but if he was gone( The receiver shook in my hand and I restrained barely from screaming at the person at the other end to hurry up and talk. Visions of him falling down the stairs and breaking his neck, of a school shooting like that Columbus place- or whatever the heck it was called, of oh God knows what taking the one good thing in my life away from me played through my mind.
"Mrs. Harris?" The female voice coming out of the speaker sounded uninterested with just the right pinch of annoyance to let the person on the other end know she had more important things she could be doing and I felt some of my fear leave me. The old bat didn't sound as if she was trying to softly break the news to a soon to be distraught mother. However, I couldn't let go of my worry, people become jaded or just start out as cruel bastards and this town had a fair share of both.
"Yes." I drawled impatiently and began tapping my fingers on the arm of the couch in an effort to let out some of my anxiousness.
"I'm sorry to inform you-" Panic filled my chest and I swallowed a big whoop of air. Tears clouded my vision. ^No.^ "that your son Alexander Harris has caused a severe disruption to one of his classes. We would appreciate if you could come down so the `proper disciplinary action can be discussed." The bubble of panic inside me burst messily and for a moment I forgot to breathe.
When I finally rediscovered my voice I found myself saying, "Alright. I'll be right there." Then without waiting for a reply I gently place the receiver in the cradle. I was still in shock and I just sat there staring at the phone. My relief warred with my chagrin ^God I am pathetic.^
Laughter exploded from my lips and I reached up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. ^How did I end up here? Oh, God.^ My laughter transmuted into weeping and I gave up on my tears. Wrapping my arms around my midsection I hugged myself and rocked as sobs wracked me.
Part of me desperately wanted to just stay there surrounded by filth and despair, there seemed to be no point in trying to change. The hole whose bottom was beneath my feet seemed to have slippery walls and no footholds. What was the point in trying to claw my way up if I'll I'd accomplish would be dirty hands and a bruised butt?
The other part of me was my stubborn pride and that was the part that pulled the sniveling wreck of a human being I'd transformed into out of my depression. Giving up was not an option for no other reason than 'because'. I stopped rocking and with an effort I stopped crying. Releasing my aching sides I ruthlessly scrubbed the heels of my hands into my blurry eyes. I pulled in several deep breaths then got to my feet. I'd wasted precious time having a pity party and now it was off to school.
I took several steps towards the closet near the door for my shoes then stopped. ^Do I even know where the school is?^ Shaking my head at my own foolishness I continued walking. ^This town is so small even if I can't remember the way all I have to do is drive around and look for a place that screams 'let me out'.^ I yanked the closet door open and had to dive for cover as an object decided I was the negative to its positive. The resulting clatter as the thing hit the tile of the foyer made me glad I'd missed it and looking down I was doubly relieved. Once I got over my flash of 'ohmygod' at the shiny metal arrow tip I stared questioningly into the concealing blackness of the closet. ^How did a crossbow get in my closet? And what else is in there?^
*I'm bored. I'm very, very bored. I can't believe how bored I am.^ Blowing air up out of the corner of my mouth I tried to puff my bangs out of my eyes and only partly succeeded. This didn't dishearten me too much since it certainly wasn't life or death important. I tilted my head, which was resting on my right hand, which was resting on the kitchen table by the way of my elbow, and looked out the window with my one uncovered eye. All I saw were the naked trees poking up like twisted hands surrounded by their tossed off clothing. November is a pretty month but no one wanders outside in the nippy air, unless they're feeling an artificial warmth, besides everyone else has somewhere to be at this hour.
It was sort of liberating at first, having nothing pressing on me: responsibilities or drug addiction. Now doing nothing was driving me crazy. My fingers itched. That was pretty much the cause of me picking up the bottle in the first place. I loved my mother but looking back she let me get away with *way* too much. I never had to work, I had money aplenty, I never had to *do* anything, and she never made me. When I finally went too far, even by her loose standards, she still sent me an allowance that was more than most people's wages. I don't know if her not paying for my drug habit would have made me quit sooner. It certainly didn't help. My spoiled brat personality was pretty well entrenched by then, with me even having picked a personal motto: 'I want it and I want it now'. So I doubt it. It's truly amazing how much you can despise yourself given the chance. I groaned. ^God, I'm sinking back into brooding about my sucky choices. I hate brooding.^
Ring. Ring.
I let my arm fall on the rough tabletop as I twisted my head towards the living room in disbelief. ^Who the heck would be calling? All my* friends* went the way of my husband and Xander's in school.^ A lump of terror formed in my belly. ^No. No. No. No.^ I stumbled to my feet, tripping on my skirt hem in my rush to uncross my legs, and by a hair's breadth kept from tasting the floor. Impatient to get to the phone I barely acknowledged my fumblings.
Ring. Ring. *Ring.*
Diving for the phone sitting upon its royal pile of rubbish I slipped on a magazine and half flew half fell on the couch. Somehow I landed with the receiver grasped in my hand and only slightly out of breath. Putting the piece of cheap plastic next to my ear I breathily asked, "Yes?" ^Please let him be okay. Please? He's all I've got left.^ I hadn't realized just how empty my life was till just this moment and it scared me. My son had every reason in the world to hate me and about three from hell not to, but if he was gone( The receiver shook in my hand and I restrained barely from screaming at the person at the other end to hurry up and talk. Visions of him falling down the stairs and breaking his neck, of a school shooting like that Columbus place- or whatever the heck it was called, of oh God knows what taking the one good thing in my life away from me played through my mind.
"Mrs. Harris?" The female voice coming out of the speaker sounded uninterested with just the right pinch of annoyance to let the person on the other end know she had more important things she could be doing and I felt some of my fear leave me. The old bat didn't sound as if she was trying to softly break the news to a soon to be distraught mother. However, I couldn't let go of my worry, people become jaded or just start out as cruel bastards and this town had a fair share of both.
"Yes." I drawled impatiently and began tapping my fingers on the arm of the couch in an effort to let out some of my anxiousness.
"I'm sorry to inform you-" Panic filled my chest and I swallowed a big whoop of air. Tears clouded my vision. ^No.^ "that your son Alexander Harris has caused a severe disruption to one of his classes. We would appreciate if you could come down so the `proper disciplinary action can be discussed." The bubble of panic inside me burst messily and for a moment I forgot to breathe.
When I finally rediscovered my voice I found myself saying, "Alright. I'll be right there." Then without waiting for a reply I gently place the receiver in the cradle. I was still in shock and I just sat there staring at the phone. My relief warred with my chagrin ^God I am pathetic.^
Laughter exploded from my lips and I reached up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. ^How did I end up here? Oh, God.^ My laughter transmuted into weeping and I gave up on my tears. Wrapping my arms around my midsection I hugged myself and rocked as sobs wracked me.
Part of me desperately wanted to just stay there surrounded by filth and despair, there seemed to be no point in trying to change. The hole whose bottom was beneath my feet seemed to have slippery walls and no footholds. What was the point in trying to claw my way up if I'll I'd accomplish would be dirty hands and a bruised butt?
The other part of me was my stubborn pride and that was the part that pulled the sniveling wreck of a human being I'd transformed into out of my depression. Giving up was not an option for no other reason than 'because'. I stopped rocking and with an effort I stopped crying. Releasing my aching sides I ruthlessly scrubbed the heels of my hands into my blurry eyes. I pulled in several deep breaths then got to my feet. I'd wasted precious time having a pity party and now it was off to school.
I took several steps towards the closet near the door for my shoes then stopped. ^Do I even know where the school is?^ Shaking my head at my own foolishness I continued walking. ^This town is so small even if I can't remember the way all I have to do is drive around and look for a place that screams 'let me out'.^ I yanked the closet door open and had to dive for cover as an object decided I was the negative to its positive. The resulting clatter as the thing hit the tile of the foyer made me glad I'd missed it and looking down I was doubly relieved. Once I got over my flash of 'ohmygod' at the shiny metal arrow tip I stared questioningly into the concealing blackness of the closet. ^How did a crossbow get in my closet? And what else is in there?^