English 10 Honors

10/9/09

Holden Caulfield was skimming through the old photographs his mother had captured of his childhood years as he was waiting for slumber to come upon him. One in particular, seemed to captivate him. It is a picture of him and Allie, wearing overzealous grins on their faces, and their arms posed in the playing catch stance. Staring at the photograph, he can not bear to move onto the next. A shiny coat of water starts to cover his eyes, as his hands lightly shake. It was as if he was trying to shake the memory out of the picture, and into reality. He stared at the picture for minutes, until minutes turned to hours, and his eyes could not strain themselves anymore. The picture was now painted into his brain, and he slowly closed his eyes to try to bring its colors to life.

All I can smell is pancakes. The doughy aroma that I have not smelt since I was a child. Its warmth is suffocating me. What are Goddamn pancakes doing at Pencey Prep? Those phonies would never put the time and effort into making such a superior breakfast. Being intrigued by this rarity I hoist myself out of bed while groaning and eyeballing around the room in search for my boots. The damn things are no where in sight. But perhaps it is the fact this is not my room. I hastily reach for a light switch to figure out where the hell I am. As the lights flicker on I am shocked by my location. This is my room, or was. Years ago that is. I stare absentminded and in awe at my brother, Allie, who is calmly breathing in and out and his heart beating a rhythmical beat. I slowly creep over to his bed and delicately placed my head against his chest. Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump, thump thump. My brother's heart stopped beating so long ago and now I could hear as clearly as I've ever heard before. Its sound is beautiful. It is a symphony, right in my bedroom. Tears swell in my eyes as I continue to listen.

My heart is on fire.

I just sit here on his bed, waiting for him to wake up. But I don't want him to. I want him to stay protected in the sugarcoated world inside his head, before his heart is torn up by life's version of Jack the Ripper. His precious moments he has on this earth don't deserve the turmoil that will come. I want him to stay asleep until they find a cure for leukemia, and he will be safe. When people decide not to steal childhood with rape and brutality, I shall awaken him.

"Allie." I whisper. "Don't wake up"

I continue to stare at my brother, until my mother's boisterous voice rings through the walls and he springs up. I startle him for he stops breathing for a moment until he realizes that it is I who was watching him sleep. "Holden, what are you doing! You should be saving pancakes for us." I continue to stare at him, still speechless as he sighs and pushes me out of the way to run into the kitchen for the food. I slowly follow him cautiously making my way through the house. It is a distant memory, the paintings on the wall, the family portrait, the old bathroom that was redone before I left for school. When I reach the mirror that is hanging by the front door, I am stunned by the reflection. I am a child, a boy of thirteen. You can still see the innocence in my eyes. Although I appear to be so young, I am still my sixteen year old self. There is no way of erasing the calamity I faced in my past. I lightly outline my cheekbones and examine my face that has no sign of sleepless nights. I smile a devious grin and then jump up and down to watch my hair bounce.

I am free.

This is my chance, to re live my childhood. Maybe there is such thing as God. Maybe this so called God gives second chances. I can not move my eyes from the vision of the wide eyed boy I had forgotten so long ago. I manage to pull myself away and slowly walk into the kitchen. The tart smell of an apple pie candle nips at my nose and I slide into a chair next to Allie. "Good morning sleepy head!" My mother says to me as she slips a pile of pancakes onto my plate. I glance up at her. My mom is gorgeous. I can not remember a time when her inner beauty has been so translucent. The tracks of her tears are no longer visible and her smile is vibrant, it could stop a child from crying. Except for me. I start to cry, the tears slowly rolling down my cheeks, clinging on and dreading to slide off. "Holden what's wrong?" She asks with worry in her voice. "Nothing mom." I respond, quickly brushing the tears off and adjusting my posture. "These pancakes are delicious!" She smiles to herself and then goes back to scrubbing the pots and pans. "Hurry Holden! We have to go practice if I'm ever going to be as good as you." Allie whines. It is as if every sentence he says my heart breaks a little bit more. Was I this agreeable before? I remember taking him for granted. Did I say yes the last time he was capable of throwing the baseball, or even lifting his arm? Grabbing my mitt, I pull on my sneakers and run after him, trying to keep up. "Come on!" He joyously calls out to me, laughter in his voice. "Oh I'm coming to get you! And when I do, I'm going to eat you up." I scream out. I chase his laughter for hours, until we both are tired with exhaustion and collapse onto the front lawn. After laying there for several minutes I start to hear the faint sound of snoring and look over to see him sound asleep. I watch him sleep for a while, and then when the sun starts to set I carry him inside. Approaching the steps, I think to myself, this is how my life should have been lived.

I could get used to this.

I have forgotten the wonders of being a child. How could I have l let this happen? The joys of flipping the pages of my Robinson Crusoe novel really fast, just to hear the sound, allowing my ice cream cone to drip onto my shirt, perfecting the snow angel that had no visible handprint in the middle. I have wondered where these simple things have gone. They seemed to have slowly diminished as I have gotten older. As the days went on I continue to enjoy my newly gained innocence and care free life. My day consisting of pirate ship adventures, traveling to outer space and then falling asleep in Antarctica, my imagination taking me to places I will never visit. I never want to grow up. Adults are blind to this kind of happiness. Their journeys for bliss are never fulfilled, and always defeated by misery and damage. The thought of this troubles me. Why is it so hard for adults to see this? I still can not understand the transition from a child to an adolescent. What is the Goddamn big change that happens that makes us forget to enjoy life? I am so confused by the fact. My care free lifestyle is slowly fading.

I am not a child.

The pictures are disappearing. I'm frantic as I try to save them. They are out of my reach. Still striving to save one I finally do. It is the picture of Allie and me. It's now colorless and worn, from being handled too much and for too long. The memories rush in. The flashback of my mother giving the box of photographs to my psych nurse is now in my head. I am fighting the security guards just to get a chance to look at her. All I see is the tear. The tear and the lips, mouthing those infamous words that mean absolutely nothing.

I'm sorry.

All I can do is scream. They tie me down. I am still resisting as they yell their orders. They want to steal my memories. I will not let them. The sedative is injected into my veins.

I am drowning.

No one can save me. My life guard is non existent. He had given up on me long ago. Where he may be I do not know. I am entrapped in this body. I am useless. No one will listen to me, no one realizes. I can help. I can steer the children away from the obstacles of adolescence. When their trouble is too hard to bear I will save them. I can catch them when they fall into life's grasp. One day, I will have my chance.

I will be the catcher in the rye.