Dear Diary,
There are a few things I know for certain. (Certain was a word on my vocabulary test last week. I like it.) Like how the sky is blue. Except it's different. Because I only know what I know because of the experiences I've had. The thing is, I don't like doing something wrong a second time. I wanna have a problem once, and then fix it and never have to think about it again. I'm gonna start a list. Like a honey-do list. Caroline says her Mom gives her Dad one all the time. I wouldn't know. I don't have a Dad.
But that's not what we're talking about right now. I guess I'll have to tell you about that one later, but that is something you should know. Anyways, yeah, that list. I'm gonna start it, and I'm not gonna end it until I'm dead. Here it goes. Hope it works. I don't like making mistakes (another word on the test). And on the subject of mistakes, Miss Collette said something funny to me. I missed the word, spelled it mistaykes instead of the way it's supposed to be spelled. She said the way I can remember is that mis- means to not get it right. And take- think about taking chances. Then it all made sense.
A mistake is what I am. And I'm okay with it, I guess. Because like I said, once you make a mistake you never have to make it again if you don't want to. And that's the end of that.
Love,
Lilly
Lilly's List
One: Girls are mean. And jealous.
Two: If something smells too nice, or looks too good (like chocolate) it's probably bad for you.
"I think Marcus likes you, Lilly," Caroline whispers in her ear slyly.
The auburn haired nine year old's pretty pink lips pull to a corner, and her eyes glimmer with mirth. She kind of likes Marcus too, although she'd never tell her best friend that.
Lilly Sheppard ignores her fellow blond companion, focusing solely on the task at hand. An essay, it seems, about role models.
Certain things nag at her, twist and tear at her, as she sits in that fourth grade classroom and thinks about this particular topic.
She hasn't bitten her lips in weeks.
She hasn't seen her mother in nearly six months.
She really doesn't want to go home this summer.
But she knows she has to.
The train of thought makes her grimace a bit, as the teacher raps up and tells them to have a wonderful break. Lilly really wishes she had signed up for the sketch camp.
And even though Caroline keeps saying Marcus likes her, she knows that the only reason her friend says that is because the boy keeps asking the blond about herself. That, in reality, Marcus is just trying to find a familiar subject of conversation.
That the boy really likes her best friend.
And sometimes, like the upperclassmen say, life just kind of 'sucks'.
"Lilly!"
It throws her off a bit when her mother says her name so brightly upon greeting, and hugs her so tight. The cell phone is nowhere in sight. Her mother smells like she did before. Like, before, before. And, it feels nice.
Somehow, she wishes there was more vocabulary for this particular feeling, but she has not felt it in so long and-
Home. That's it- It feels like home.
A part of her, though, is still weary. So, she regards her mother with a squint in her gorgeous blue gaze and only offers up a quiet 'Hi, Mom.'
Three: Some things only make sense after it happens. Like a year after it happens.
On the opposite end of the stick, the word 'Mom' instead of 'Mommy' catches Jenny Sheppard just as off guard.
Makes her swallow hard, and stop smiling as brightly.
But she still smiles, because her baby girl is there. And so, so, beautiful.
And she just realizes how much she thoroughly missed her.
Jenny leads her to the car and doesn't let her mind go to the fact this will likely be the last time her daughter comes home for the summer. Maybe even the last summer they will spend together.
No reason to spoil the moment, even though it already has a sour after taste.
"So, when did you get so tall?"
The younger girl is struck with the scent of cookies wafting through the air. Noemi's chocolate chip cookies. There's lemonade on the granite countertop, too. Lilly hasn't seen any of this in such a long time.
"I don't know," she whispers, and gives her mother a small smile.
"I thought we'd go to the park a little later, huh? How does that sound? I don't have to work the rest of the weekend."
"Good." Another short answer, that leaves a wry smirk on the redhead's lips.
"Lilly, sometimes you really remind me of your father," Jenny says lightly.
Blueblue eyes stare up into emerald with a curiosity, a longing, yet no words pass between them.
"So, does the park sound good?"
A nod, a smile, and Jenny's warm laughter fills the air.
Lilly Sheppard will remember her mother like this, in the end.
May 2008
"Lilly, cherie, the principal needs to see you in her office. Take your books."
Everyone won't stop looking at her, as she makes her way down the aisle of desks to the wooden door.
It's almost worse than when she'd won the art contest. Almost.
Lilly's stomach feels awfully funny. In fact, even though she doesn't know what's really wrong yet, because something is really wrong, she stills feels like she's going to throw up.
It's not a good sign at all.
Four: If something seems wrong, it's wrong.
Disclaimed. This is officially the end of true drama and angst. From here on out it's just sad. THANK YOU to those who have stayed with this story. I know my updates are sporadic, and I'll try hard to get the next chapter up within the next two weeks. Love ya!
-Alivia