2The scene around me was beautiful. The moon was full and luminous lighting up the midnight blue sky and it's myriad of stars paving the sky like diamonds, a soft breeze strolled through the air pulling an earthy scent of the woods from the trees to where I was standing at the edge of the lake. I took a deep breath taking every bit of that scent I could.
The ground was still damp from the rain fall before, but that didn't stop me from putting my bare feet on the ground and feeling the grass and stones against the soles of my feet. For a girl who was wearing only a light tank top and dark denim shorts logically I should be turning blue, but for some reason instead of feeling freezing it only felt nice, as if the breeze was gently waking me up from a sleep that I didn't know I was in and not freezing off my appendages.
Even in a place like the woods, where everything lived in harmony with everything and there was no set order. I could still hear a symphony of sounds, the sorrowful sound of an owl mingled with the chirp of crickets. The rustled of trees being complemented by the percussive beat of twigs being snapped.
I took a deep breath this time to breathe out my anxiety and on the exhale I put my right foot into the cold water of the lake feeling the stones and sand beneath it. With another breathe I planted by left foot in front of it. And then the right foot again and then the left again, aways in synchrony with my breathing.
The song of the woods faded away and I could only hear the sound of of air going through my body and I could only feel the lake's floor against my feet as I waded deeper and deeper until it hit me that I was waist deep into the water.
My mess of dark hair was starting to get wet, the water at my waist didn't feel cold but the water that landed on my shoulder when I tossed my hair felt like ice encapsulated bullets. I let my eyes close allowing myself to feel the water before it made my skin numb. I waved a hand through feeling it disturb the tranquility of the lake.
I allowed myself to walk forward again feeling the water inch higher and higher first reaching my chest before eventually reaching my neck. My hair was now leaving a trail behind me as if it was an inky black curtain. My body's natural survival insects were telling me that I shouldn't dare to go further into the water, but I suppressed those as I got even deeper my mouth eventually being submerged.
Now was the moment I was going to kill myself, the water here took everything from me, it only made sense that I give the water my life too. Images of my body started going through my mind, a hiker will go through here and see the corpse of a sixteen year old girl floating in the waves. There would probably be no homework at my school, so that all my classmates could mourn about the wallflower dying and talk about how they wish they could have gotten to know me better.
My uncle who was forced to move from his budding career as a rockstar to take care of me, probably would come home from the bar to the news that his niece died while he was gone. He'd end up feeling guilty that in the month since my parents died he only saw me twice. Because I'm a "tough cookie" and I know how to take care of myself.
I closed my eyes and instinctively held my breath before I let my body sink into the water feeling the
coolness on my skin and become completely submerged in the water. The world around me was black but I could still feel the water, waiting for the moment when all my feelings could go away. All the pain and the guilt would leave my heart and go into the water.
I don't care if there is a golden world when my time in this world was gone, because even if there was I am pretty sure those who commit suicide don't get to go there.
I just want the pain to go away, everyone always tells me that it was going to get better, that I need to give it time and that I am going to come out of this stronger than ever and that my future is still bright.
No matter how far in the future I try to look at, every scenario has a looming cloud of sadness hovering over it and I don't want to be the sad orphan girl anymore, but as long as I live in this town that's all I'll ever be.
My lungs started to burn, I wouldn't be able to hold my breath much longer, my thoughts started to fade away into nothing. It was coming finally, death was finally coming. My body sank lower into the ocean, and it felt as if I was mentally leaving it.
And my body did the natural thing that every human body did no matter how deadly it would be.
It forced me to take my breath.
Floods of water came into my body filling up my lungs and mouth, everything started to hurt. My body was spacing violently, my arms and legs flying around in the water as if they couldn't be controlled by my mind, and the only thing they wanted to do was survive. My eyes were open and the water stung my eyes.
I didn't want to die.
The feeling hit me in the face. I did not want to die. I just wanted the pain to go away, but I could do that and still be alive.
Though I was going to die anyways, I did everything I could with my arms and legs trying to get to push myself up but I couldn't do it. My head kept going in and out of the dark water, but I couldn't keep still. I could feel my arms and legs start to slow down, and my body start to give up. My body started sinking again slowly getting re-submerged. No
And then there was nothing.
My head hurt like hell, and my muscles felt sore, I felt like fucking death personified. I didn't even want to open my eyes, because I was afraid of what I would see. Because if this was what heaven was supposed to feel like then heaven was very much overrated. I placed my palms beside me feeling something soft.
I was on my goddam bed, hot tears threatened to escape from my eyes. I'm so worthless I can't even get suicide right, I wasn't sure if there was anyone in the world who could mess up more than this.
I laid still on my bed for a few more moments, listening to the sound of my heart beat teasingly in my ear and allowed myself to get used to the soreness in my muscles before I eventually made myself open my eyes and look around.
Okay, maybe I'm not completely worthless; I was right about being in my room light blue walls and all.
My cellphone was on my pillow and I realized headphones were in my ear as if I fell asleep listening to music. My computer was still on with too many tabs open, that all seemed to be social media related, or anything a teenager would usually use. If you came into my room and didn't know that I was out to kill myself you'd think that I spent last night keeping up with my class mates, and binge watching music videos
But I wasn't a social media person, it's been a year since I've opened Facebook or Instagram, and the music videos on my computer weren't artists that I'd usually listen to. I did not use this computer, somebody else must have done it unless I was sleep typing, but if that was the case wouldn't it have been random combinations of letters instead of crafted pages.
I pushed myself up planting my feet on the white hardwood floors in my room and looked down at my feet and realized something that my blood cool down a few degrees; I wasn't wet. My hair was pulled as neatly back as I could manage, my feet didn't have a speck of mud on sight, I was wearing the same tank top and jeans, but they were spotless.
My heart started to beat out of my chest, I could feel a thin layer of sweat on my skin. I wanted to throw my guts out. I made myself stand up straight, but all it did was make me fall back on the ground my back against the bed. The world started spinning around, me forcing me to put my head in my knees and close my eyes tightly to keep tears from spilling out.
It was a dream, I wouldn't even call it a nightmare because in my dream there was a way to end the pain and now in the harsh light of reality I realized that I'd have to live at least another day with the pain.
I looked over at my silver night stand, and reached over and grabbed a framed photograph. It was taken when I was fourteen and won a speech giving contest. My speech was about the psychology around bullying and it took me two months to do the research and format of the speech.
I was in a pale yellow sundress, and my hair was braided to the side a la my mom who looked as stunning as she always did in a black dress and heels. My dad who never liked having his picture taken had a bashful smile on his face and his arm was wrapped tightly around me. I had a big dumb grin on my face holding my golden trophy.
The one constant in both reality and the dream was that they were both dead. And that the living relative here to take care of me wasn't going to get here until at least twelve o clock.
My queasiness abated a little bit and right now all I wanted was to get a nice hot shower with one of those fancy soaps that her mom used to beg her to use all the time. Maybe if I used the soaps earlier, my parents would have still been here. I knew in the back of my mind that it was idiotic of me to link a bottle of scented chemicals to a car crash, but maybe if I was a better daughter I would have had better karma with my parents.
For the next thirty seconds I focused only on my breathing, in for four seconds, hold it for two seconds and then exhale for four seconds. That technique forced my body to slow down, and not feel like I was about to have a full blown panic attack. I haven't had a panic attack since last year, and I didn't want to break that streak.
When I finally felt that I could get up without toppling over I did just that and got myself to the bathroom and turned on the shower to as I could take it which was not very. I was always more of a cold girl, but I could already feel my muscles relax at the thought of the heat.
I slipped out of my clothes tossing them away before I got into the shower and I immediately felt better. Just feeling the hot water run down my brown skin and into the drain made me feel as if the water was washing away all my emotions at least just for a minute, the soreness was alleviated and my head felt clearer as I ran shampoo through it feeling the foaminess run through the tangles. After years of my mom combing my hair, tangles didn't even sort of hurt.
After soaping myself up with something that smelled like a combination of roses and vanilla, rinsing my hair and spending three minutes contemplating meaning of life. I made myself get out of my steamy heaven and turned off the water and wrapped a blue towel around myself and used a spare brush to fix my hair up. After all I had a big day planned on watching Marvel movies, and eating cupcakes so I needed to look my best.
I rummaged through my closet pulling out a t-shirt I got from our family trip to Disneyland, and a pair of sweatpants completing my truly effortless look before sitting on my bed to check my laptop for a few minutes.
The page I opened too was the Facebook page of a guy I used to have a crush, I skimmed them over hoping to somehow to jog my memory. I didn't remember anything on the page and it was just basic Facebook posts about the world and how the party last night was apparently the best of the year . I was about to close my laptop when I read what was in the url box.
You're welcome for saving your life, do you know how hard it is to get mud off of clothes? I won't tell anybody if you won't. I hope to meet you again Aasha.
My breath started quickening and my stomach started twisting again, I didn't dream about drowning I actually did try to kill myself. Someone saw me, they not only saved my life, but they cleaned me, dried me, manage to make it look like I fell asleep due to a cramming session and left me an ominous note. I won't tell anybody if you won't. That was a comforting thought, that there was someone who was watching my every moment.
I could feel hot tears against my cheeks, and I felt as if I was going to topple over. Without even thinking I sped over to my window and I pulled the black curtains watching them blot out the light from the window. My body felt heavy like I was filled with sand rather than bones and muscles and I let myself fall against the bed hitting the hardwood floor with a thud sending a ring through my bones.
I am so tired and I felt it in every part of every cell on my body, why did the world pick me? Maybe the universe wanted to tell me that it didn't want me to die which was why someone saved me, but that person was stalking me.
They knew where I lived, and they most likely knew that if a suicidal girl wakes up to realize that not only is she still alive, but that a stranger saved her and left a note for her wouldn't be calm. What if they were watching me right now? Entertaining themselves with their fear.
I climbed up onto my bed, feeling something swish around by body and threaten to escape through my mouth but I pushed through. I placed my barefeet on my covers and stood up crouching to avoid banging my head. My eyes roamed by blue walls searching for some type of camera. Part of me hoped that I found a camera and that it lead to some sicko who lived in the woods, because at least it'd mean that I wasn't finally losing my mind.
I desperately searched all four walls of my room and all four corners for some device but to no avail. But there had to be something. Ever since the accident I haven't been in the best state of mind but even I wouldn't hallucinate something so detailed and complex.
But there was just no camera.
I leaned my head against the wall closing my eyes, trying to keep in control of my emotions. I did not want to fall apart again, I needed to get stronger.
"Uh kiddo..are you okay?" My Uncle's gruff voice helped keep me out of my own head and I could have hugged him or that.
My Uncle Ash was handsome, but not in the model handsome in the 'he probably been in more than a few bar fights' kind of handsome with copper brown skin and mess and tattoos racing down both his arms. He was leaning awkwardly against her door frame with a tray holding a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and one of those breakfast sandwiches things from McDonalds.
He couldn't cook in the slightest, the first time he attempted to make a meal for me he ended up burning the counter.
I put on the fakest smile I could manage to put on to the point where I could feel my cheeks start to hurt, "I'm fine Uncle Ash ." I lied, but I was used to lying. I've said millions of times that I'm doing much better when people ask me how I'm doing, and not once did I actually mean it.
Uncle Ash tried to hide his relief but he wasn't very good at it, like me he wasn't ready to have a deep emotional conversation. I knew he cared about me at least a bit, but two months ago he was going from city to city to play his music and now he has to take care of his dead brother's sixteen year old daughter. I knew that if I was in that situation I wouldn't be the best guardian either.
Something about that just pissed me off, and I didn't know why; I didn't want to have a touchy feely conversation with him, but maybe I wanted him to dig deeper? To seem at least a bit more curious to how I've been feeling.
"I got you some breakfast, kiddo Aasha," He corrected himself wanting to use my real name, instead of the nickname he used when he only saw me for Christmas and funerals.
"Thanks," I muttered taking the breakfast before going back to my bed and turning away from him expecting him to leave like he usually did, but he did something that surprised me and sat on the bed a bit awkwardly shifting his weight around.
"You weren't here last night when I came home." He started off putting his hand on his neck looking up a bit, "Were you at that party?" He questioned.
"Yeah," I lied again, this was the longest conversation we had for a while.
Uncle Ash's eyebrows shot up disbelievingly, "You haven't left the house since I've came here, and you went to a party?"
How do I explain myself out of this? Even before my parents died I wasn't really a party person, "I thought it'd be good to just force myself to do something big, and a lot of kids in class messaged me invites." The last part at least was true, I got so many invites from people I barely knew.
"Did you drink?"
It was my turn to give a disbelieving look, "Yeah I drank . I drank Coca-Cola, and water." I answered a bit sarcastically. What, was he going to give me a speech about drinking?
He caught onto my sarcasm and looked down embarrassed, "It's just...I know that when teenagers..hell when anyone goes through what you did they may do things they regret like drinking and drugs, and...boys." His voice went even quieter on the last word.
Oh hell no.
I am not having a talk about boys with him.
"I came for thirty minutes, talked to everyone who asked me how I was doing. Parties suck so I went on a walk to the lake and through the town and before I realized it it was one in the morning so I came back here and you were still sleeping."
That sounded believable, people ask how victims are doing all the time, and people go on walks all the time, and people head home late all the time. I pushed back my shoulders and tilted up my chin so that he knew I was telling the truth.
Uncle Ash started to get up, "If that's the case then," He drifted off, "Cool and I'm proud of you." He nodded before he began to leave then he halted to a stop.
"Don't forget you have that boarding school lady coming to interview you at twelve."
That took me by surprise; I couldn't forget something that I never remembered.
My parents were thinking about sending me to boarding school, because even then I wasn't happy at my old school. But since the accident I never had a chance to think about moving across the country for school.
"That's today?" I asked raising my eyebrows at my uncle's suddenly sheepish expression.
"Didn't I tell you?"
"No you did not."
"Well I thought I about that…" Her uncle finished lamely a red tinge creeping up on his face.
I didn't know how to respond to that, I have talked to to a grand total of five people since the accident. How am I supposed to manage to sit through an interview with some posh intelligent woman? Boarding school seemed like a dream, here she'd always have the aura of sadness cling to her, but at boarding school she'll have a chance to reinvent herself.
"I have to go, I left some money on the counter in case you want to buy snacks or something, " Uncle Ash continued already having one barefoot out the door, "Call me if you need something." He added before he left by bedroom as if it was on fire.
We both knew that there was a better chance I'd pour my emotions out to a squirrel than tell him how I feel. I didn't want to pour my soul out to someone who only knew how to pour a drink. Uncle Ash was good when my parents wouldn't let me buy ice cream and he did, or telling me stories about his life which used to seem so much cooler than mine. He wasn't the adult to go to for serious matters.
Once I knew he was out of hearing range, I let out a groan and threw myself back on my bed running my hands through my hair. I wrapped my hands around one of my pillows and threw it as hard as I could against the wall providing me with some instant gratification. Thoughts were bouncing in my head whether there were about how I needed to look and dress for my impending interview, or on a more pressing matter…
Who was the person who saved me from killing myself?
There was a party on the bridge stretching across the further end of the lake, meaning that most people were there. In fact one of the reasons I picked that night was because it had the smallest chance of people noticing me. But that person knew where she lived, and they knew how to unlock my door. Did I actually dream of killing myself and sleep-wrote a note to myself? Was I hallucinating and finally losing my mind?
You know what? Thinking about this is only going to give me a headache and make my anxiety even worse. I should spend time focusing on my interview, creepy-stalker-person isn't going to be at Beauxbatons Academy.
I quickly made myself appropriate, well more appropriate than what I was wearing before, trading in my Aladdin t-shirt for a button down, and my sweatpants for jeans. I had too much hair to do anything with so I just tried to put it in a neater ponytail hoping the interviewer would pay attention to my sparkling personality rather than that one strand of hair that would just not stay in the elastic.
I was now at least physically ready for the interview, now it was time to be emotionally ready and the way you do that is by making sure you know all you possibly can. I opened up my computer and put in Beaubaton Academy and clicked on the site.
The school looked more like a palace than a school with gardens leading up to the entrance, and the dorms were the same size as my room right now and their rooms had a bathroom. It was even near a beach, so I could go swimming more often or just ocean-gaze. Since I was younger I always had an affinity for water and I never knew where it came from.
They had courses that I didn't even think existed (Analysis of Game of Thrones?), and clubs that even made an anti-social nerd like me want to join.
The goal of the school was to prepare children for college, so there was minimal adult interference according to the class guides and it put the responsibility on me. I liked that, people were fawning over me a lot as if I was made out of porcelain and I know that it's because they care but it feels so stifling at times like they're trying to suffocate me with cookies and invitations to tea.
I clicked on the tab to to learn more about the headmaster, and the picture was of a beautiful dark skinned woman with full lips, and straight jet black hair that shone like a mirror. The thumbnail of the other teachers below featured them smiling, but the headmaster's red painted lips were in a stern straight line. She was wearing what appeared to be a black robe that made her look like some type of judge.
Her bio was pretty normal, born in 1963, started out as teacher of history at the Academy before she ranked up to headmaster and has been a headmaster for ten years and that in her spare time she spends time with her nineteen year old daughter and painting. The painting part surprised me because she didn't seem like the type of woman who'd have a creative outlet.
I went downstairs to put my McCereal breakfast away, before I heard a knock on the door. I did my breathing technique again to get rid of any last minute nerves before I fixed my posture and opened the door.
The headmaster was more beautiful than her picture gave her credit for, her skin was practically glowing, and her dark brown eyes were so sharp and piercing that if she told me to ride into battle for her I probably would have thanked her for that honor.
She was dressed in a black pantsuit with minimal jewelry save for a diamond engagement ring and a silver wedding ring on her left hand, she would have been taller than me without the heels but with them on she towered over me by five inches.
"Aasha Jani?" The headmaster said a tinge of annoyance going to her voice though her expression remained a calm mask of professionalism. I realize that she most likely already asked before and considering that I probably had a dumb gawking look on my face she probably did say it before. Not the best way to make a first impression.
I nodded quickly for a few more moments in attempt t find my voice until I eventually was able to say, "That's me, I'm Aasha, that is my name." I stumbled over my words, trying to make sure she knew that I wasn't someone pretending to be me.
"Helena Stone, pleasure to finally meet you." Ms. Stone took my hand in hers and gave it a firm shake, using her free hand to pat mine. "May we sit now?"
Of course! I should have put pillows on the dining table chairs and make some type of snack for her for the interview. That's something intelligent classy girls do right?
"Yes, sit, please sit! Do you want coffee, tea? Some water?" I offered while leading to our dining room pulling out two chairs across from each other. All the calm breathing exercises before did nothing to curb my anxiety in this moment.
Helena lip twitched to form a slight smile, like she was vaguely amused in the way a small child pronouncing words wrong is amusing. "May I just say that you have beautiful eyes," She complimented sitting down primly in the chair crossing her deep brown legs.
That wasn't surprise since I was little I could remember people complimenting them and I suppose they were unique, but I've become so accustomed to my own features that it shocks me when people compliment them. My eyes were grey, light enough that they contrasted against my brown skin they at times reminded me of the moon.
People weren't used to seeing grey eyes on half Indian-half Black girls like me so they were commented on a lot.
I 'd like to say that I'm one of those girls who don't care what others think about my appearance and I am who I am, but that'd be a lie. Appearance is definitely not the most important thing to me, as seen by my fashion style, but I do care what people think of me.
"Thanks, I had them since I was born," I waved my hand hoping she'd appreciate my awkward attempt at humor, and the hint of amusement in Ms. Stone's piercing eyes was enough for me. Though the amusement faded and she became all business.
She put her hands in her bag and slipped out a manilla envelope and slid it across the table to me, "Your plane tickets, tomorrow at five o'clock a taxi will come with one other student and you two will be at the airport. Your flight will leave at eight twenty. Don't be late."
Wait this was it? I knew my application was pretty good as I had proofread it five times before I sent it in. But the headmaster, flew all away from California just to give me a plane ticket and some very emailable instructions? Something didn't add up, it wasn't even as if I was the daughter of someone famous and needed special treatment.
'You look confused Ms. Amari," Ms. Stone broke my thoughts her voice calm and clear, "Do you have any questions for me?"
Yes I did I actually had many questions but I couldn't deny the fact that I really did want to go to the school, and too many questions might make her take back the plane tickets to a better place.
"I'm…accepted?" My voice was just loud enough to not be considered a murmur, but that was currently the loudest I could manage. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that by tomorrow I was going to be on a plane to California. "But..My interview?" I tilted my head tucking my hair behind my ear.
Ms. Stone's voice took a softer tone, her expression warming up, "Your essay about yourself was one of the most beautifully written reports our admission directors have read in years. And that combined with your…situation right now made us come to the conclusion that we can forgo this interview process which would just tell us what we already know." When Helena smiled her face softened making her even more pleasant to look at.
My mouth opened up like a fish, though no sounds came out this just felt so…off this school probably got thousands of apps a day, and they just let me go without an interview because my parents died? I knew that it made people feel sympathy, but maybe I was only good on paper and was actually an idiot? I didn't think I was an idiot, but I could've been.
"You came all the way here just to give me some plane tickets?" I questioned, suspicion and excitement were somehow both laced in my voice.
A silky chuckle came from Ms. Stone, "I knew you were going to ask that," She began before she paused for a moment, "I had other reasons to come to New York."
That doesn't sound strange at all I thought to myself there were still questions on the tip of my tongue. Did anyone else ever get this treatment, how did she know my parents were dead? But I didn't want her to reject me.
But I couldn't deny that for the first time in a while I was actually happy. I knew that it was a bit suspicious that I was granted special treatment by not having an interview, but instead of being in boring New England where everyone knew everyone in my town. I was going to California and I was going to smell at all the flowers leading to the door. I was going to take their 'Pre-Pre-Med' course (what high school even offered a course like that?).
Beaubaton did.
I had a chance to turn into someone else, take my botched heart and leave it behind.
I could feel a dumb grin on my face my happiness winning over natural suspicion. I shook my head excitedly, "No I have no questions, no questions at all. I'm going to go start packing right now." I all but squealed my hands flying around something I do when I get excited. "Have a nice day Ms Stone!" I helped her out and once she gracefully strode out my door.
I burst upstairs into my room taking every article clothing I could get my hands on tossing them on my bed.
Other thoughts started to creep into my mind, the way emotions always did when I was happy. These thoughts were about how I was probably going to flunk my classes and get kicked out by the end of the first semester. How being in warmer weather wasn't going to magically turn me into a social butterfly and that after a week I was going to end up hiding in the library or on the roof during lunch like I usually did here.
I didn't want to let those thoughts get any further in the month after my parents died I shut myself down. I didn't even walk out the door to get the newspaper for at least three weeks. By not doing anything, I had too much time for letting my emotions fester too much like an infection and it ended up with me nearly drowning myself in the lake that took my parents.
I forced myself to only think about Beaubaton, to find that glimmer of happiness inside me and forced it into a sun. Letting outshine all the sadness away, I knew that later when I'm buried underneath covers hoping that my thoughts will fade away just long enough to let me go to sleep, I was going to forget this feeling of happiness.
Which is why I needed to enjoy this while I could.
I opened up my laptop to email my Uncle that I'd be off to the airport tomorrow, I was about to put gmail into the url box when I realized that there was something else in there.
It's a shame you're going off to boarding school, a beautiful intelligent girl like you deserves more than what Beaubaton could offer you. May we meet again, this time in the flesh. Love, your guardian angel.
Author's Note: Constructive Criticism is my best friend