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Vudoll
Vice Captain

PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 11:39 pm


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~Birth of Sam~

..........Forgotten. Abandoned. Alone. Its hair, a mixture of red and brown frayed yarn, lays haphazardly on its head. Its khaki-colored body hangs limply across the edge of a broken-down old box, olive eyes staring down at the ground helplessly. No one cares. No one waited. This world is meant for those who rush, who speed along as fast as they can... And those who slow down for even a moment... Are left behind.

Personal Information about Sam:
Birthdate: January 6th, 2008
Core Emotion: Forgotten
Gender: Male
Hair color: Red with streaks of brown
Eye color: Green
Date of first growth: January 10th
Date of second growth: February 5th
Date of third growth: February 24th
PostPosted: Thu Jan 31, 2008 3:05 pm


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Forgotten Memories
January 6th, 2008 I rushed about my small abode, collecting things and shoving them into a dark crimson book bag. "Algebra book, check. History book... Where's my history book?!" I muttered to myself.
Shoving things aside on my cluttered desk, I desperately searched for the lost book. As old science papers fluttered to the ground, a glint of a diminished ray of sun against a smooth surface caught my eye. Slowing my desperate pace, my attention was caught to that quick flash of light. Moving aside the papers that covered the box, I found the vudoll I had seemingly forgotten about years before.
"Sam..." I whispered slowly to the limp khaki doll. My finger swept across his button eyes, the source of the quick glare I noticed before.
Then the beeping of my alarm clock in the corner of the room swept me back to my reality of the rush to school. My gentle caress of the doll turned tense, as I clenched him tight and threw him carelessly into my bag.

January 7th, 2008 "I want you all to write a persuasive essay, telling us why you think one political party should win for the 2008 election, over the other." I could hear my English teacher speaking, but the words just weren't soaking in. We had so much homework today, an assignment from all six periods. There's nothing to look forward to when you have a night of rushing through homework ahead of you.
I opened my bag slightly, Sam's button eyes peered back at me. "Quit looking at me like that, you know I don't have time for you anymore." I muttered harshly to it, nudging the bag with my foot. His gaze didn't waver in the least. "Come on, stop. At least you have time to yourself!"

January 8th, 2008 The words squirmed on the page as my attention wavered. My eyes looked lovingly up to the TV sitting before me, black screen begging to be brought to life. A squeaking of springs caused me to whip my head around to the chair beside me. Gravity had caused Sam to shift positions from the royal throne I had not-so-lovingly placed him on.
"You just want me to not have a life, don't you?" I snarled at him.
His blank expression told me nothing.
Standing up, I walked over to his chair and towered over him, I could feel power coursing through my fingers. Reach forwards I snatched Sam up and drove one of the pins farther into his arm.
"That's for constantly nagging me about everything." I pulled a pin out, and rammed it into a different position on his rag arm. "And that's for all my friends who forgot about me."
Sam's eyes showed no emotion to my attacks, but somehow I felt lighter inside.
"Ditching me for boys. Hanging out with the more popular girls." Two more needles into his arm, and the harsh emotions within me simmered down to a better state.
Setting him back on the chair I patted his red head. "But of course it's not your fault, now is it Sam?"

January 9th, 2008 Storming through the door of my little home, I threw my book bag across the under-sized living room. It hit the wall with a thud, and Sam's ragged body fell out of it.
"I can't believe Trisha!" I stormed outloud "Not only did she ditch me from that major science project, but she's left me for her OTHER friends?! I didn't even know she had other friends! She's just like the rest of them!"
Sam's plastic eyes seemed to look deep into me, I didn't know if it was really happening, or if it was my conscience begging me to release these forever locked-up feelings.
Sitting down beside him, I snatched him up and sat him on my lap. Madly stabbing away at his arms with a push-pin.
"Just like the rest! We'd been so alike in middle school!" Another mad stabbing, "And then once high school hit!" I crushed the pin into his khaki arm. "They started to wear all those name-brand clothes and lots of makeup! While here I am, stuck in this double-wide trailer park, with the only name-brand piece of clothing I have is a hand" Stab "Me" Another stab"down" a final stab "Carhartt jacket!"
As soon as the 't' left my lips, I could feel the tears start to well up underneath my eyelashes. Looking up to the lights, I tried to stop them with the back of my hand. It helped, but one tear managed to escape between my fingers.
I looked down at Sam, parts of his little stuffing had begun to start to push their ways out of the fabric. Holes had started to part their ways around the threads. My push pins certainly weren't helping. His hair still was as perfect as the day I had sewed it on however.
I remembered that day only slightly, it was probably pushed farther back in my memories, while tonight's algebra assignment flashed behind my eyes with bright red neon lights. I was ten years old at a camp, we were making our own plush dolls. I had wanted his entire head to be a beautiful natural auburn color, but all of the other girls had already taken the best colors. So I was stuck with bits of brown thread as well as aburn, but I felt bad leaving him slightly bald in places, so the brown threads found themselves amidst the red.
The rest of him was perfect though, and he was my one comfort that kept through the lonely nights, the only bit of my family I had that week.




Please note, even though this is in first-person point of view, this is an entirely made up character. I did not base it or any actions on myself.

Remington Country


Remington Country

PostPosted: Thu Jan 31, 2008 3:06 pm


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I Won't Forget These Times Together
January 11th, 2008"Friday!" I shouted to no one in particular, as I stormed through my door.
Throwing my arms up, and my bag across the room, I gave a celebratory strech. Before I heard a crash in the kitchen.
Slowly lowering my arms, I walked around the wall-divider that separated our "entrance" from our pint-sized kitchen. Over the half-wall I could see the fridge door was open, which surprised me, since I was the one last out of the house, and I was sure it was closed when I left.
"OH MY GOD!"
Sam's head turned around, his green eyes staring right into me, sadness and depression swept over them like a film of fog. However they weren't the same button eyes, they were real, almost human eyes.
And his hair, it wasn't the same yarn. I mean it was still yarn, but it was more human. More real.
But what really got me, was that his little rag body had changed dramatically. With long limbs, and a lengthy torso.
Removing himself from the fridge, he stepped around a broken pickle jar and reached his arms towards me. Backing up, I shoved my hands out in front of myself, trying to keep him back. It was just too strange, a little rag doll boy asking me for obvious affection. He kept coming, his eyes getting larger and his arms started to shake desperately.
The sadness in his face about broke my heart, I stopped backing up. Sam came up and wrapped his green arms around my leg, snuggling my knee with his soft face. Cautiously I reached down and ruffled his hair, in response he looked up at me and moved his little mouth as if trying to tell me something. I kneeled down and scooped him up.
"I guess we oughta get you something to eat."

January 12th, 2008 I shoved a Baby Einstein tape into the VHS player and plopped down on our floral-print chair. Sam was sitting on the ground, khaki legs straight out in front him. His green eyes were wide with curiosity and amazement as animals and shapes flashed across the small screen before him. I tried to watch it with him, and I tried my hardest to keep my attention glued to it. But I kept thinking of what all the other things I could be doing to spend my Saturday, rather than try to entertain this new little child who had stepped into my life.
I could be working for the orchard farmers right now, making an extra $20. They always had rotten apples to rake, or fresh ones to press into cider, or even cleaning off their hunting dogs that they bred for extra money. Looking down at Sam, I wondered how he'd react to a little puppy. His eyes reminded me of puppy-dog eyes. So large, and full of emotion.
Suddenly Sam got up and started to crawl away.
"Where you going, big guy?" I asked as I got up and slowly followed him. I could hear some kind of a shapes song in the background.
His little legs moved amazingly fast for his size, and soon he found himself in my room. Right away he started to crawl towards a corner of my room that kept all my childhood toys. Reaching in with both of his arms into one of the boxes, he pulled out a plush pheasant, one that'd I received for my fifth birthday. He cuddled it in his arms and cooed gently to it, before sticking one of the stuffed feathers in his mouth and gnawing on it.
Kneeling down I spoke to him, "You and me gonna go hunting for one of those things sometime?"
Stopping his gnawing, he looked up at me. Opening his mouth, I heard his first word.
"Hunt." he cooed.

January 15th, 2008 Pressing my stubby pencil onto the crumpled page, I wanted words to explode from the tip and drench my paper with an english essay, that happened to be due tomorrow.
Glancing over at the small wood stove, Sam was curled up beneath it, ragged hand in his mouth. Three days and already his vocabulary had blossomed wonderfully. Now he knew words such as "gun, mom, and dog", even though I was still working on getting him to say pheasant, I was ecstatic with his progress.
Rolling over so that his belly faced the ceiling, I heard a few piggy noises release from his mouth as he dreamed. Scratching my cheek with the butt of my pencil, I remembered the other nights. He'd start with sweet, innocent piggy noises, then they'd become loud grunts, and finally screaming. His dreams had started to worry me, but yet there was no way to stop them. No matter how much I tried to shake him gently from his sleep, he didn't wake up until the dream was completely over and he woke up of his own accord. Lately I'd just put him in my arms and hummed to him, swinging him lovingly, trying to soften the pain he may be experiencing from the dream.
Suddenly he sat straight up. Beautiful green eyes searched the room, tears swelled on his lower eyelids. As soon as he spotted me, he stood up and wobbly walked over and wrapped his arms around my leg and cooed gently to me. I lifted him up and placed him carefully on my lap, snuggling him up in my arms, while tossing my homework aside. Once again he shoved his hand into his mouth, and his eyelids became heavy as he gradually fell asleep in my arms.
My eyes started to mist over as I imagined the horror he was experiencing in such disturbing dreams.

January 16th, 2008 Raising my face to the cool winter air, I breathed in the harsh bitter cold. Rain was on the way, and it was going to be a downpour.
Sam's little rag hand was in the palm of my own, while his other was shifting places between his mouth, and the fence railing in front of him. Large eyes, wide with curiosity as he watched the horses trot around. The horses too seemed to know a storm was coming, ears flicking, tails swishing, and hooves scratching the sky. I was trying to introduce Sam to as many things as possible, at least all of the things that were accessible in my small town. Horses were by far his favorite. I'd be riding my bike, while he was riding in the book bag I threw across my shoulders, and I'd hear his little mouth jabbering away; "Horses, mommy. Can we go see horses?"
So here we were, watching the horses. They were one of the few things we could do without people seeing him. I didn't think the public needed to know about Sam quite yet.
A few fat raindrops squeezed from the dark gray clouds that loomed over us. Sam looked up at me, his arms reaching towards me to pick him up. Obliging with this, I ran to my bike and placed Sam in my bookbag, carefully shutting the cover, but still letting him get air.
I didn't care to find out if rain shrunk a rag-boy.

January 17th, 2008 Red hair flying in the wind, green hands gripping tightly to the edge of my bookbag. Sam squealed with delight as I went faster and faster down the asphalt road on my rusty old bike. If I ever went too slow for him, he'd complain constantly. However his need for speed had greatly infected me.
Suddenly a flash of red and brown and a fluttering of wings interrupted my pedaling. Three rather large pheasant roosters were flushed from the wheat fields on our left. Their red feathers flashed in the light, and their cackles were music to my ears. I watched in awe as they quickly flew away, Sam was just as amazed.
As they disappeared from sight, a beautiful blue rooster flushed after them. All the old smart ones always flush last, they know that dogs pressure them out of the brush so that you can take them down with your shot. It takes a good hunting dog to flush an old rooster.
He flew right over our heads, he seemed to know I wasn't hunting because of my lack of dogs and a gun. I could see big, long spurs on him.
"That'd be a pretty 'un to hang on our wall, huh Sammy?" I spoke to him.
Sam looked up at me with big eyes. "Can we get dogs?"
Looking at his pleading face, I was heart broken and I had to look away. Shaking my head, I looked back for the blue rooster. Right then and there I wished that we could get dogs. I wished we could buy a small gun for Sam.
"There ain't enough money, Sammy."

January 20th, 2008 "I cold." Sam repeated to me again as he tugged on my sleeve.
"What happened to that blanket I just gave you?" I questioned him.
His large green eyes got even larger, he placed his arms behind his back and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I lost it."
"Lost it?! How could you lose it so fast?" I sat up quickly, a blanket around my own shoulders.
He continued the rocking back and forth. "I dunno."
Scowling at him I stood up and grabbed his hand a little less than gently. I walked into our shared room, dragging Sam behind me. His other hand was once again in his mouth. Looking to the other side of the room, I searched his bed. I had made it out of two old pillows sewn together for a mattress, and had hung it from the ceiling out of a strong fishing net that I had washed many times. It served well for a crib, since the sides of the net went up high enough so he couldn't fall out if he rolled over. There were many blankets, and a smaller sized pillow for his little head. Searching through the blankets, I couldn't find the one I had recently handed him.
"Well you didn't put it in your bed. Do you remember where you last had it?" I smiled at him, trying to coax the memory out kindly. While at the same time gently removing his other hand from his mouth.
Smacking his rag lips a few times, he appeared to go deep into thought. I knew better however, he gave it away that he easily knew where it was. "I dunno." was his reply after awhile.
Mentally rolling my eyes, I squatted down so I was eye-level with him. "You know, if you don't help me find that blanket, we can't go see the horses for awhile since you'll be too cold."
At that comment his eyes got very large and he slipped his hand out of mine. Almost running, he went over to my bed and laid down on his tummy. Slipping as slick as a snake under my bed, he retrieved the blanket. Standing up, he handed the blanket to me with his green eyes looking at his toes.
"Well that's quite a place to be putting a blanket. What were you doing under there?" As I said that, I got on my own hands on knees and crawled underneath my bed, I could feel Sam following me.
"Well, well!"
What came to my eyes was a large stash. A stash of coins. There were pennies, nickels, quarters, and a few dimes.
"Why do you have all these coins? And where did you get them?" I asked him, I was getting slightly claustrophobic in the small space.
"You said we didn't have enough monies. And I got them from lotsa places in the house. Couch, behind the TV, lotsa places." He replied back to me.
Giggling, I slid back from underneath the bed and stood up, Sam following suit. Dusting both ourselves off, I picked him up from beneath his arms and smiled at him. "Let's go find you a jar for all those coins, shall we?"

January 21st, 2008 Laying out in the middle of a cow field, Sam and I looked up to the sky. Fat, gray clouds hastily bumped against each other. Bare trees were doubled-over as the wind whistled past the brown grass around us. The cold jumped you like a cougar, seeping beneath your skin and resting on your bones. However Sam and I thought it was a good cold. The kind of cold feeling you get that makes you feel alive and full of life.
I looked over to him, a small smile plastered on my lips. He caught my gaze and smiled back, while finding my hand with his.
The grass rustled and swayed back and forth as our windstorm battered the stalks.
However the whole feeling was magical. Having the rush of the cold, the touch of the wind, and the love of someone next to you. No words had to be spoken.
Words would break the magic.

January 22nd, 2008 Sam rushed up to the fence post, and jumped on to the lower railing. He pulled himself up from the top railing, and peeked his eyes over the fence.
There they were. In all their glory.
Our local rodeo team was practicing. And today was the bull riders.
Sam and I were back aways, slightly hidden by grandstands. No one would be able to see us unless they walked smack into us.
Crash! We could hear the bull fighting the gate, even from across the arena. Stomping, puffing and occasionally screaming as it begged to be let free. The men that rode the arena on horseback were getting anxious. This was going to be the best rider our rodeo had.
And the worst bull.
The horsemen were rubbing their reins between their sweaty fingers, and their horses were champing on their bits nervously. However trained and experienced they were, it was always a fright to have this bull run. Satan's Tornado was his registered a name, a big beautiful bull of a breed I didn't know. The name suited him well, and everyone agreed.
2,000 lbs of spinning, bucking terror. And he was a talker. His screams could get even the toughest man's nerves down enough to forfeit the ride.
We heard another crash, then a bang, and a quick complain of metal, as the gate swung open.
Here he came fast as lightening. Buck Turner was the rider, and he was doing well. Left arm above his shoulder, rocking his hips with the bulls' motion. Twisting his spine as the bull spinned, keeping his head up when Tornado jumped. He was a good rider, and I could tell Sam was awe-struck.
Then his eight-seconds were up, and a buzzer rang. The men on horseback rushed out to him, helping him get his hand untangled from the rope, and scurrying him over to the rail of the arena. He had accomplished the eight seconds on the worst bull I knew. I was impressed. Sam apparently was too, he was leaning so far over the railing I thought he was gonna fall.
Reaching to his hand and pulling him back towards me, I whispered to him, "I thought horses were your favorite animal."
He looked up at me, large eyes gigantic at the adrenaline rush he had gotten just watching Buck. "Not no more mommy." he spoke to me.
I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Maybe when you get older, we can find you some sheep to ride. All great bull riders started on sheep when they were kids."
Then I wondered if he'd ever get older. He was just a rag-boy. Maybe he'd be like Pinnochio, never becoming a real boy. Unless some magical voo-doo happened.
Looking to the lights of the arena, I knew that he was going to grow up into something grand, however.

January 24th, 2008 Dainty paws pryed open a sunflower shell, while a large fluffy tail followed the curve of his humped back. Buck teeth worked all around the treat. Sam and I watched the squirrel jump and twitch around the sunflower seed offering we had left for them.
In Sam's hand was an old pellet gun, that someone gave to me that was probably handed down to them. However old it was, it still worked on small game. The scope was scratched and rusty, but the cross-hairs still came up clean and clear.
A shotgun would've been better for squirrel hunting, but we weren't aiming to kill.
I hadn't purchased ammunition in years, and there weren't any left. So we were just out here for practice.
"Alright, now ease the barrel up. How about you prop it up on that stone right there, lay on your belly, that's it. Put your crosshairs right at his shoulder blade. You there? Alright, now switch your safety off. "I whispered to him, coaching him. "Now this is when you'd fire a' 'course. But for now..." I made a few deep dog barks, that sounded pretty accurate.
The squirrel didn't leave a second to stop and freeze, like how a horse spooks sometimes. He took off faster than a quail. Sam giggled at how ridiculous I sounded, barking. I giggled too. And soon we were leaning up against a stump laughing.
"This is fun, momma. How much do bebes cost?" Sam managed to ask me, in-between fits of quick giggles.
I looked up to the sky, hand on my chin, before responding. "At Hank's store, I think they probably got a big ol' package for $15 or $20. Shot for this type of gun can even be cheaper. I'll see what we got in our banks combined, alright?"
Sam nodded, gun cradled in his hands. "Does squirrel even taste good, momma?" he asked.
I looked at him, my eyes large at the thought. "Oh it's mighty good, especially in a thick soup. With thick slabs of carrot and large chunks of potato. And you can't ever forget the shreds of onions." I swallowed hungrily before continuing. "And then there's bear. Bear can taste mighty fine, or like trash. If you shoot a bear that's been living among humans, eating junk, then he'll taste horrible. But, if he's been feasting on huckleberries. Man, it's delicious..."

User ImageJanuary 26th, 2008 The blackened iron fireplace crackled and creaked with warmth, while outside snowflakes fell, desperately trying to stick to the earth. I was curled up on our faded floral-print chair, a blanket around my shoulders. Sam was in the chair next to me, a blanket also around him, but he also had his coin collection across his lap.
I was teaching him the fine art of identifying coins, and recognizing how much each are worth.
"Now see these big ones with a guy on them with curly hair?" I said, spinning a quarter around my fingers.
Sam nodded and reached for it. "It'sssa quarter."
I smiled and passed the coin into his khaki palm. "Good job, and how much is it worth?"
He concentrated hard, staring intently into Washington's face. "Twenty-five sense!" He eventually said.
I tried to surpass a giggle, his 'cents' was drawled out.
We spent the next half hour counting the change, as George Strait serenaded us from the radio.
After a bit, all the change was back in the jar and Sam I were closer to the fireplace, as the mercury dropped. "Five bucks ain't half bad, buckaroo." I told him. "Keep saving at this rate, and we're soon to have enough."

January 29th, 2008 Sam squirmed in his little fish-net crib. Snow was coming down by the tons. His eyes were glued to the window across the room. I watched him from a single squinted eye, trying not to let on that I was awake. As soon as he found out, I'd have to leave the warm comforts of my old plaid quilt and venture out into the cold snow with him.
He glanced over to me, and I shut my eye quickly, but not quick enough.
"You're awake! C'mon momma, let's go! The snow's fallin'! There's snoooow!" He exclaimed with unrestrained happiness.
"Give the snow some time to stick, big guy. Can you see if it's even sticking?" I mumbled to him from underneath the quilt.
I could hear the ceiling groan as Sam tried to stand up in his hanging crib. "I can't SEE, momma. I can't SEE the ground!" He whined to me.
Sharing a groan with the ceiling, I threw the quilt off of myself, and let my feet touch the cold surface of the floor. Trying to rub the sleep from my eyes, I stood up and walked over to the window while putting my long brunette hair back up in a messy ponytail.
"It's not even sticking, Sammy. It's too warm out, we probably won't get a real good snow this winter." I replied to him, as I shuffled back over to my bed.
Clutching the top edge of the crib with his hands, he pouted. "Why won't we get snow? I wanna play in snow."
He said the last bit so quietly, I knew he was bound to start sniffling. With a loving glance to the warm covers, I walked opposite over to Sam and picked him up and hugged him. "Snow is about fun for an hour or two, Sammy. After that it just becomes cold and wet, and when it melts, it seems like the whole world has been drenched. The grass becomes a lake, and dirt pathways become swamps of sucking mud. So dry your eyes, big guy. You don't want to make the ground even more soggy, do you?"
He shook his head and looked up to the lights before replying. "But I wasn't cryin, mama. Bull riders never cry!"

January 31st, 2008 The bus ride home, my entire world was in a blur. I heard not the soft murmuring of voices, or the rain pattering on the roof of the yellow bus, but of my own pity. I watched the ran drops slide down the window slowly. Barns and fields of old wheat rushed past my blue eyes, but I wasn't seeing them, my vision was blurred by the tears that were beginning to swell behind my eyelids.
I wasn't crying, I hadn't cried in years, the tears never fell. They were just there. I wanted to cry, to get the emotion out, but my eyes just felt too dry, and I felt too empty.
I was friends with the most amazing boy. Brown hair hung over his face, slightly into his eyes, and he carried himself with a powerful stance, always wearing his dark brown Carhartt jacket. Funny, nice, and just the right amount of outgoing to match my own. I had a crush on him for over a year.
However, I found out just last week he had shared my crush. We both never knew.
But then this week...
The tears started to follow the features of my face as they dripped on my lap. My knees now wet.
Then the bus slid to a stop, and I lifelessly stood up to walk home to the only comfort I knew now. Sam.

As I walked into our house, I threw my things aside and went to find Sam. He was in our room, happily playing with a toy. Sweeping him up, I carried him over to my bed and I laid down. Tears rained down my cheeks onto his shoulders, and I hugged him tight. Sam seemed to know that this wasn't a time to ask questions, and he put his arms around my neck and whispered to me. "It's okay momma. It's okay."

February 2nd, 2008 There it was. His number. Gazing at me through our history of Caller IDs. We always talked for hours on the phone, he was my true friend who I didn't have to worry about him forgetting me for others.
A tear splashed across the kitchen counter, seeping into a crack.
I had to stop thinking about him, but no matter what I did he'd always come up in my thoughts.
Sam came up to me and tugged on my pants with a khaki hand. "What's the matter now, mama?" he said to me.
Turning around to face him, I tried to crack a smile, and squatted down to his height. "Hopefully something you won't ever experience, Sammy."
He looked up at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What that?"
I looked up to the yellowing lights, trying to hold back the tears. "Heartbreak." I sniffled "I doubt I wouldn't even know what love is if it bit me on the a**. But, it still hurts, Samsam. It hurts like the devil."
Sam just nodded, I knew he didn't know what I was saying.
He walked over to the stool in the middle of the kitchen, and dragged it over to the window that faced the cow pastures across from our trailer park. Wobbly walking up the stool, he pressed his face against the cold glass. Occasionally he'd take his forearm and rub it against the window to remove it of fog from his warm little breath.
"When am I gonna be able to ride sheep, mama?" He asked me, wisely changing the subject whether he intended to or not.
Joining him at the window, I peered to the barbed-wire fence. "You still ain't big enough, I can't have you breaking an arm from your lack of weight. If the sheep decided to take a quick turn, you'd go flying the opposite direction because you're seat ain't heavy enough." I wiped the tears that dripped from my eyelashes with the back of my hand, before continuing. "But I'd love to have something to get my mind away from him..." I said quietly to myself.

February 5th, 2008 Lead scratched against lined paper as I worked out algebra problems. I thought I was accomplishing something by not crying anymore. I just had no more tears to cry, and my heart felt a few inches lower in my chest as it seemingly gained weight.
I just don't lie awake at night, asking God to get you off my mind. It's getting better all the time.
The song played over and over in my head. Brooks & Dunn seemed to capture every emotion I was feeling and put it into music and lyrics.
God I hope you're happy. Boy, I wish you well. I just might get over you. You can't ever tell.
Sam waddled over, and I shoved my homework aside and sat him on my lap. "He just got up and forgot about me, Sammy." I whispered.
He looked up at me, his eyes large. I knew my depression was starting to affect him as well.
I hugged him tight. "I'll never forget about you, though." I went on. "We'll never leave each other's sides. Life ain't fair, but having someone who loves you just makes that unfairness tolerable." Kissing him on the forehead I paused.
"To be loved is wonderful. To be unloved is lonely. To be forgotten, that's unbearable. You can't go on." My eyes started to mist over again.
Sam reached up with his khaki hand and stroked my cheek before he spoke to me. "I won't forget what we share, mama."
Curiously, I looked at him before asking, "What do we share, Sammy?"
A few seconds ticked by before he answered. "We share so much love, that no one can forget us together. We've both been forgotten. Forgotten for a long time."
PostPosted: Wed Feb 06, 2008 4:16 pm


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No One Will Forget Us!

February 6th, 2008 My eyes blinked once. Twice. Thrice. It seemed as if I had never truly seen before. I stretched my fingers. Fingers!
Holding my hand out in front of my face, I saw not green fabric, but real skin! Gasping, the air rushed down my throat and into my newly grown lungs. I could feel power and energy coursing through my body as my blood surged with new life! Reaching up, I placed a palm on my hair. It wasn't yarn! Flipping my bangs away from my eyes with a movement with my head, I was surprised at how easily it moved.
Then I remembered.
"Mama! Mama! Look at me! Look at me, mama! I'm a real boy!" I yelled happily, running through our house. "Mama?" I shouted again, as no one responded.
School. She's at school. I forgot.

February 9th, 2008 Mama split me open a warm, flaky biscuit and spread a heaping spoonful of wild huckleberry preserves on it. She handed me the plate and a tall glass of milk. I heard her humming as she served herself a breakfast like mine.
Smiling, she sat down beside me. "I still can't believe it Sammy..." she spoke to me, brushing a hand through my hair, lifting it out of my eyes. "I thought you were going to be a doll all this time, but..." Her good mood radiated from her, and the dismal day outside was no affect on the soul-warming mood in our trailer.
"Just remember," she went on, "That you're not to call me 'mama' in public. You're going to have be my cousin, because a lot of questions would be asked if you called me mama. And no talking about how you used to be a doll! Lord Almighty, that would stir some talk, and they'd lock you in the loony-bin! So you're my cousin who grew up like a normal person, alrighty?"
I could feel my face smudged with globs of huckleberries, so I wiped them off with the back of my hand before saying, "Normal..."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see mama frowning.
She reached forward and took my hand, a napkin in her other, and wiped the purple mess off the back of my hand.
"Well, you know what I mean, Sammy. You're not like the average person..." She scowled, knowing that she was getting deeper and deeper into trouble with this conversation.
"But no mind to that! People won't know the difference if you don't tell them!" she said loudly, ending the subject.
A few minutes passed as we tucked into our crisp morning biscuits.
"When am I gonna start riding sheep?" I asked, a few crumbs tumbling out of my mouth.
Sweeping the crumbs onto her plate, mama replied to me "I think after your first day of school would be a good time."
"School?" I asked her.
She nodded. "I called the nearest Elementary school, the one I went to, and you and I will be walking there tomorrow so we can fill out some forms. Then the day after that you can have your very first day of school!" She told me. "However, there's going to be troubles because you're not even a year old and yet you have the body of a nine or ten year old. We'll just make an age up for you, a birthdate, and be sure and work especially hard in school."
I shrugged. "As long as I get to ride sheep!"

February 10th, 2008 "How much further is it, mamaaa." I complained to her. We were walking to the school, since she said her only bike had been broken in an accident. All I remembered of it was that was my first time ever feeling such pain.
"We're almost there. See that corner? It's right around that corner." she explained to me.

"Here ya go ma'am. Here's all your forms." Each word was drawled out by the lady behind the desk. I put my hands on the top of it and tried looking at her by standing on my tippy-toes.
Her hair was pulled back into a small fountain of black locks. However she seemed kinda pale, and her eyes dark and beady underneath large glasses.
Popping a bubble of gum, she continued to mama, "Everything needs to be as detailed as possible." Pausing, I could see her beady little eyes look at her. "Aren't you a little young to be a guardian?"
Mama tensed up for a second, then relaxed. You wouldn't notice if you weren't paying attention to it. "I'm not his guardian. I'm taking the forms back to my aunt and uncle - his parents." she explained to her.
A thick eyebrow was arched under the lady's big glasses, but she didn't question further. Instead, her attention was drawn to me.
"Who dyed your hair?" her voice changed considerably, like she was talking to a cute bunny. Then I saw a ghostly hand reaching for the top of my head, I could see her veins and the yellowed nails.
Ducking the hand, I answered "No one dy-"
Suddenly mama grabbed my arm and aimed for the door. "It's time to go, now, Sammy. Your mother and father will be wanting to fill these out!"

February 11th, 2008 A blaring of a horn sent me a couple feet off of the cot that mama had temporarily made as my bed. It was my alarm, or more like mama's alarm, and today was gonna be my first day of school!
School.
The word sent shivers down my spine. My first time out alone without mama to help me.
She had left clothes out for me to slip into, as well as a small breakfast, and my lunch in a brown paper bag. Her bus had left earlier, because I guess she went to a place called "High School" where school started earlier.
Just a few minutes later, and I was standing outside with an old backpack with a few sheets of paper and a pencil or two. My lunch was tucked into a pocket, and I was still nibbling away at my breakfast when the bus jerked up to the entrance to our trailer park.
The doors noisily folded open.
And I stepped aboard.
Here I come, School.

February 13th, 2008 Three whole days of school under my belt.
I thought to myself, smiling. There were only a few more kids left on the bus before it'd be my stop. Looking over to the seat across from mine, I nodded to the girl sitting there. She gave me a weird look, but I didn't care.
I was in public without mama!
After the first day of school, mama kept her promise and took me sheep ridin. I fell off more often than I stayed on, but I sure had fun. She was so proud of me, she dug in our piles of treasure (she calls it junk) and found her daddy's big old belt buckle and gave it to me.
I wore it now with pride, on an old cracked leather belt.
She said that her daddy used to be a bull rider before his accident. She didn't go no further than that, though.

The girl the seat across from me stood up as the bus breaks let out as whistle of air. She adjusted her polka-dotted backpack and dropped a note on my lap before walking off the bus.
Her blonde hair was flicked over her shoulder as she swung her head, to look back at me. I saw a wicked little smirk spread across her pearly whites. Then she stepped down on to her asphalt driveway.
Looking back to my lap, I opened up the folded paper. It smelt like too much perfume, and it made my eyes water.

Get a bigger buckle, it may make your head look smaller.

Frowning, I crumpled it up and half stood out of my seat to open the window and chucked the paper.
Stupid girls. I thought.

February 15th, 2008 "Keep your arm above your shoulder! Keep your weight in your waist, and rock with the motion! There you go! Balance yourself out now. OTHER SIDE!" Mama coached me, as the sheep gave a mighty jump and I went flying.
She walked over and held out a hand to help me up. "Now do you know what you did wrong?" she asked me as she hoisted me up.
I nodded, while dusting off the seat of my jeans.
"I moved my weight to the side that the sheep's weight on, because I was anticipating the sheep to twist over to the other side." I told her shrugging.
Mama patted me on the back and grinned. "You'll always be better if you can understand what your mistakes were. Now, get back on and I'll teach you how to be able to anticipate the sheep's movements without costing you your seat."

Later that Evening I was sore. My right eye was blackened from falling off a particularly rambunctious sheep, and landing badly on a rock. It hurt to bend my left elbow anything more than 45º. There were countless bruises and cuts all over my body, and one of my few shirts had a large tear down the back due to a large patch of blackberries.
Mama tore a chunk off of her fried chicken leg, and chewed with gusto. We were both real hungry from spending all day down at her friend's sheep farm. However hungry I was, I just didn't feel like eating. The chicken in front of me was crisp and hot, with a juicy, moist meat center. It was the first time anything like it didn't look appetizing to me.
Mama looked up at me, and with her finger prodded my corn on the cob. "At least have some veggies, Samsam." she encouraged me.
I glanced down at the corn, bright yellow with drops of hot moisture. The smell was entrancing.
"I just don't feel right, mama." I complained.
She frowned at me for a minute before her eyes clouded over with understanding. "Damn it. You're an easy motion-sick case." She said rather loudly, dropping her chicken on the old plate. Her hand reached for her mouth, and un-lady-like she wiped the grease from her lips with the back of her hand. "It's not gonna be as fun for you if get sick every time... Do you wanna keep tryin, though? Toughening your gut up with lots of practice might work."
The feeling in my stomach was a horrible one. I felt like my world was slightly spinning, but yet, I wasn't really on a world. I felt as if I were in a universe where there was no ground, and my gut could float as it wished.
But I never knew anything better than the adrenaline rush of riding.
"I wanna keep at it, mama! I won't ever stop for no one, nothin', no way!"

February 16th, 2008 Mama said that she procrastinated too much. But see here, I didn't know what that word meant.
She also said that she was gettin' real bad grades cause of her procrastination.
So, mama decided, Saturdays were to be set out as "homework" days. She told me I'd better finish all my homework today, and study, or else we wouldn't do nothin fun tomorrow.
I sure hated procrastination for making Saturdays so boring.
I didn't get the math that we were learning in class. "Long division" made me think of a big chunk of steak, not numbers and lines. But yet, here was a whole worksheet, dedicated to frustrating and annoying me. Mama tried to help me, but she also tried to her homework at the same time so I'd write down answers like "450÷30= b." Then when she'd look back over my worksheet, she'd yell at me to not write down answers that she said, cause apparently she likes to talk to herself when she does her own homework.
"Division don't really even matter, mama! A bull rider don't even have to use no math!" I told her.
"You gotta figure out your finances, mister. How else are you gonna know that for every competition you pay $250 to get there, and if you win you get $500, and if you lose you get zip? And stop using such bad grammar, or else I'm a gonna have to go out and buy you one of those phonics things." she scolded me.
I shrugged. "School don't make much sense to me at all."
"School doesn't make much sense to you." she corrected me.
"Fine. Whatever, I still don't care. Nobody at school likes me, I'm not good at it, and like you said before, I ain't a normal person!" I stormed at her, my anger was rising at the frustrations of the homework, and her nagging me.
"Oh, honey... I'm sure that you'll get friends soon, it just takes awhile."
"I won't ever get normal friends, mama! Cause I always say the wrong things that makes me stand out from them! I won't ever fit in anywhere! Not even bull riding, cause I'm motion-sickened!" I growled at her, my teeth were gritted under the self-control of not yelling. My fingernails were digging into the palm of my hand, I had never felt so angry in my life. Then I knew, I had to leave that cramped house. I felt as if I were going to explode if I had to look at walls ever again.
So I ran out of the house.
I ran straight out to the road. Running, running. Not stopping until I came to the biggest tree around. The clouds were threatening rain, but I didn't care, I climbed right up that old tree.
I just sat there. I may have felt tears coming down my freckled cheeks, or it may have been the rain. I didn't care. I wasn't good at nothing, and I had no friends besides mama.
I might as well have been nobody.

February 17th, 2008 "C'mon hun, I made your favorite! Biscuits and gravy, with extra chunks of meat... I even got a big, creamy glass of milk for you. C'mon, Sammy..." Mama pleaded with me, between the door to our room.
She had come and found me and dragged me back home. Then I went and locked myself in our room, and propped a chair against the door so that she couldn't get in.
"I don't know if I can eat with you NORMAL people!" I yelled at her.
I heard a sigh between the thin wood door. "Hun, there is no such thing as normal. Maybe normal means growing up in a family of four, with a little brother or sister and in a suburban neighborhood. That's how most people are raised, Sammy, and as you can see I wasn't quite raised like that. And neither were you. Us people who aren't normal, we need to stick together, because what makes us different is what makes us so much better than them!" I heard her voice quaking with desperation.
I huffed, and kicked the door slightly. "Do you even HAVE parents?" I growled at her.
I could hear her clench the plate of food in her hand a little tighter, her fingernails scraping against the clay plate. "I have parents, Sammy."
"Then why don't you ever talk about them?! Sometimes I'd like to know why we have to live so poor like this!" I raged back at her.
"I don't want to talk about it-"
"Well I'm not coming out until you tell me!" I interrupted.
Then I heard footsteps, and Mama's voice was quieter and further away. "Then you won't come out for awhile Sammy."
I was surprised, I thought I had had her!
"Fine, FORGET ABOUT ME!" I screamed at her.

February 18th, 2008 My face was wet.
What in the... I thought to myself, my eyelids still tightly shut.
I rolled my cheek around a little bit.
This isn't my bed...
Opening my eyes with a start, I realized I must have rolled off mama's bed. Since I had locked her out, I decided that I might as well upgrade my sleeping arrangements.
Then my arms started to hurt, and my torso was starting to feel squished. That's when I noticed that the quilt and sheets were nearly suffocating me. I was so tightly wrapped, I felt as if someone was trying to mummify me.
I wonder how I managed this...
I thought to myself as I rolled around the floor, trying to get out of the trap of bed things.
"Sammy! Oh, Sammy! Thank goodness you're awake! Are you alright?!" I heard mama shout through the door, her voice croaked as if she had been yelling a lot previously.
I huffed at her, "Yeah, I'm up. And what'd you mean by alright?"
"You were screaming almost all night long, Sammy! And I-I... It just reminded me of when you were a little one, and you'd have such terrible nightmares..." her voice had dropped a few sound decibels.
Then I remembered the screaming. The torture of last night. Suddenly, I was very cold, and very, VERY lonely.
Pushing aside the chair that was propped against the door, I hurriedly unlocked the door, swung it wide open, and ran into my mama's arms.
I pressed my face against her shoulder, and I hugged her tight with all my strength.
"I'm sorry, mama. So, so, sorry." I sniffled into her sweater. "Please don't forget about me! Please, please, please."
She stroked the top of my head lovingly before going on. "Was that what your nightmare was about, Sammy? Well don't worry, hun, I won't be forgetting about you anytime soon."
I removed myself from her shoulder and looked at her "Ya promise?"
She nodded, "I promise." she grinned and then looked over at the kitchen, "Now how about we warm up those biscuits and gravy and have ourselves a feast!"
I smiled half-heartedly and shuffled behind her into the kitchen.

February 19th, 2008 "Sam!" her shrill voice pierced my eardrums. "Were you even listening to the question?!"
I looked up at her and shook my head. My red hair was a shaggy mess, and my eyes looked purple from lack of sleep. I rubbed the crusts out of the corner of my eyes, and propped my chin against the palm of my hand.
"Now, Sam. I want you to tell me how you would find the answer to 2, 350 divided by 50!" my teacher shrieked at me. For the hundredth time my eyes were drawn not to her shriveled, wrinkled mouth, but to the large gash that consumed half of her face. Un-knowingly, I began to stroke my own cheek with my hand.
"Uh-uh..." I stuttered.
Then a piece of paper was slid very stealthily over in front of my eyes, but out of site from Ms. Carroll.
Find out how many times 50 goes into 235 it said.
I repeated the note, and Ms. Carroll's mouth actually cracked into a forced, evil, smile.
"Good. Now next time, pay attention." she said before turning her back and tapping the old whiteboard with a yardstick and continuing the lesson.
I looked over in the direction the note had come from, and it was from the same girl who had commented my belt buckle on the bus. Flipping the note in front of me over, I scribbled a response on it:
Do you only talk in notes? I don't think I've heard a word out of you.
I slid it over to her.
Without watching, I could hear her slowly open up the paper, she did it so well you could hardly hear the crinkle of the edges. Then I heard a scratching of a pencil. The note was slid back over to me.
I talk. You have to get to know me first. You fish?
I could feel my brow wrinkling. Why did she care if I fished or not?
Yeah I fish, why? I replied on it, then flicking it towards her.
A couple minutes later, then the note was in front of me once again.
We ride the same bus, we should go fishing after school. I know where my brother keeps all his good tackle. But, ya know, we don't have to fish the entire time. (;
Confusion swept into my mind like a thick fog. A winking smiley face? Not fishing the entire time?
I've gotta ask my mama. I wrote on the note. My palms were starting to get sticky.
For the first time I looked over at her, and I could see her frowning with obvious dislike. But it was almost... Her brown eyes under all that dark, dark, brown hair...
I was snatched out of my thoughts by the note being thrust into my hand.
You don't have to. Just tell her afterwards that you stayed after school to study, you suck at math, you could tell her that you were working on that.
Looking over, I shrugged at her. She scowled again, and snatched the note of my hand and furiously and quickly scribbled something on it before shoving it in my grasp.
Just come with me. It'll be be better than anything else you usually do. I promise.
I had never disobeyed Mama, or done something without her permission. I didn't know how'd she react to it. But yet, this girl's face seemed so innocent. I doubted anything bad would happen. So I looked into her deep brown eyes and nodded. She grinned.

After school I sat on my usual seat on the bus, pressing my cheek up against the cold glass. Then that same dark-haired girl who I had passed notes with earlier, came and sat by me. She'd never done that before. Then I realized that she was serious about fishing! I jerked my head away from the window, and glanced at her.
"So you can get off of my stop. Here, I forged you a permission note so the driver don't ask no questions." she handed me yet another note, but this one was more crisp and it looked as if she'd spent quite a bit of time on it. "Then I'll just slip my stuff into my house, grab my brother's tackle, and we can go down to the pond that no one goes too..." she slid closer to me on the seat.
I could feel my cheeks growing increasingly hot, so I slid away from her.
"Hey-uh. What's your name?" I asked her, trying to stray away from the topic of "more than fishing". Whatever that could be, I was scared to find out.
She glared at me. "You're gonna take me out fishing, and you don't even know my name?!" She folded her arms and looked the other way.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, real lightly like Mama does when I'm upset, and told her real sweet-like, "Aw, c'mon now. I'm real bad with names, I don't mean no harm by it. Just tell me?"
She seemed to lighten up under my touch, and she turned to look at me again, fluttering those dark eyelashes of hers. "Well if you HAVE to know. It's April." she smiled and almost un-noticeably scooted closer to me. "Now, about fishing..."

Later that day I flicked my line out on the still pond. Birds were chirping and serenading each other beautifully, I knew that warmer weather was bound to break free from this wintery cold grasp. Everything was so peaceful, the sun was nearly shining actual warmth, and the grass was soft and sweet-smelling.
Readjusting by belt buckle, I laid down against the ground, fishing pole in my hand.
Then I felt April's touch beside me. I jumped, startled by her presence, and scooted away from her.
"That was a real nice cast you made there, Sam." she said, working away on her dark eyelashes.
I just nodded, trying not to look at her. There was something about all this that just wasn't right...
"Can you teach me how to cast that well?" she asked me, every word was long and slowly drawled out, as if she was trying to milk some deep meaning from them and give it to me.
"Just c**k back that wire there. Yeah, that one. Swing it behind you, NO! Not in the bush!" I told her, jumping up to help untangle her line.
She just stood there, watching me. "Maybe you could show me?" she offered.
Retrieving the last of her line from the brush, I glanced at her. "Why don't you know how to cast? Haven't you been fishing before?"
She puppy-dog pleaded, sticking out her lower lip and making her brown eyes large. "Only with my brother, and he'd always help me cast my line."
I shook my head disbelievingly, but still walked up to her and help get her line back into place. "Alright now take this hand," I pointed to her left hand, "And use it to c**k back that wire. Yes, like that. Now, gently. GENTLY! Perfect. Then just flick it into the water." I placed my hand above hers, but not touching it, and helped guide the line into the water. "Perfect!" I said to her, smiling.
"You're a real good teacher, Sam." She set her fishing pole down on the ground.
"You don't want to do that, if a fish comes-" I butted in.
"Oh, I don't care about the fish, Sam." she interrupted, suddenly getting very close to me.
I freaked out and started backing away really quickly, my face getting very, very hot.
"You don't get it, do you Sam?" she said, continuing to walk closer to me. "I really like you." she puckered her lips and advanced even closer.
This time I really freaked out, I dropped everything I was holding and made a total run for it back to our little trailer park.
Oh mama, please don't be mad at me! I thought desperately I thought we were just gonna fish and have fun! But no... STUPID GIRLS!

February 21st, 2008 Mama believed me when I said I had stayed after school for a little bit. She wasn't the gullible type, but I hadn't done anything bad before so she believed me. I didn't want to push it though. She was the only one who truly cared for me.
I readjusted my backpack as I walked to the front doors of our school, just recently stepping off the morning bus. I heard grumbles of anger, so I turned around. There was April with her little posse of friends. They were circled around her, and she seemed like she was stringing a fanciful tale, with lots of fingers pointed at me. When she saw me looking she glared, and all her friends glared back.
"Aw man, you were her latest target?" I spun around to see that one of my classmates was talking to me. I think his name was Billy... "She does that to all the new guys."
"Does what exactly?" I asked him.
"She tries to kiss ya! But see, not one guy has actually kissed her back. She's a couple of years older cause she got held back for some kind of harassment and something to do with her reading grade..." He shrugged and then looked at me again. "You didn't kiss her back, didya?"
I shook my head really quickly. "How many years older?" I asked him.
"Oh, just one or two." he seemed to think for a second, then nodded. "Yeah, one or two. I think she told me she was 12. So she may be 13 by now, but who knows! So did she do the old fishing trick, or something else?"
"Fishing." I replied grimly.
"Yeah, she did that one on me last year. Cause I just moved here last year, see, from a ways away." He told me.
We walked together into the school to avoid April's glares.
"How many years has she done this?" I asked him.
"Oh just two, this one and last year. Started with a kid name Don. She's really weird. The only girls only like her cause she's older and she'll probably punch them if they don't talk to her. I know all this 'cus my cousin is in our class too."
"Who's your cousin?"
"Gee, Sam, you ask a lot a questions. Marilyn is my cousin. The blondie who don't talk much since her best friend moved away." He replied, still walking to our class.
"Oh. Yeah. I don't have much friends either. Just my ma...cousin!" I said to him.
"You got cousins around here too? Yeah, not surprising. You gotta be related to someone here to move here... Who's yours?"
I walked past a mirror on the wall and noticed my hair looked really messy today, I shook my head to try and fix it but it didn't work so I continued walking with Billy. "She goes to the highschool, her name's Kelsey." It felt weird saying my Mama's real name to him.
"Hm..." is all he said.
We walked into our small classroom, and then to our own separate desks.
I wonder if that makes Billy my friend now. I thought to myself. I've never had a true friend before, I'd never know...

February 23rd, 2008 "Saturday at last!" my mama shouted for joy.
I grinned in response to her burst of happiness. No more April for a whole two days! I thought.
"Grab your glove and that rope I showed you Sammy, your sheep riding lesson is gonna continue today!"
Nodding happily, I ran around the house collecting my leather protection glove and the sturidest rope my mama had found. I handed the rope over to her at the door to our trailer. She smiled and nodded her head then reached to open the door.
But it was already opening.
Standing in front of us were a tear-eyed Billy and Marilyn. Billy looked as if he were trying to hide his tears, but Marilyn was outwardly sobbing on her cousin's shoulder.
"Our f-family got in a big fight. And yours guys' house was the closest to come to." Billy managed to say between quaking gasps.
"Oh you poor dears... Are you friends of Sammy? Come in here, come in here. Sorry about the mess. Have you had any breakfast yet? Here, hunny. Oh don't sit there! Here, here, sit yourselves right here and I'll fix you up a grand breakfast!" Mama dropped the rope over the half-way that divided the entrance and our small kitchen, and promptly set herself to work on frying up large sausages and even bigger pancakes.
I brought my attention back to Billy and Marilyn. "Do you guys need anything?" I offered. "Maybe some tissues?"
Billy nodded and pryed himself out from under Marilyn and went to go sit down in one of our chairs. Marilyn just stood there, her eyes large and red. Her body was quivering with shock.
Dashing off I grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to Marilyn. But she didn't reach out and take it. I thrust it a little further under her face. She jumped back a little bit and then looked down at the box as if seeing them for the first time, grabbing dozens and shoving her face into them.
Then I offered Billy some and he just shook his head. "Marilyn is going to need them all. She saw the worst of it."
"Is... Is everyone alright in your family? Do we need to call help or anything...?" I asked him, very much appalled at what could have put them both in this state.
"They're all fine. We just came here so they could cool down without us being there. And we needed to get away from the yelling." Billy told me, his eyes had a distant look in them, but he had at least managed to stop crying.
"Marilyn, are you alright?" I thought about giving her more tissues, then thought better of it as I saw the heaping mountains she still had grasped in her dainty hands.
I could see the mountain of soft paper move up and down, so I took that as a nod and sat down in the chair next to Billy. And waited for breakfast.

Later that afternoon Billy and I were playing with cap guns that he had in his house. The family fight had finally settled down and Billy and Marilyn had both gone home, however Billy came back with lots of his toys in his arms.
We were firing them at each other, playing cowboys. These kind of guns were the ones that would make the firing noise and smoke, but wouldn't fire any projectiles. We had a blast.
And I knew for sure now.
I actually had a real friend!
We laughed and rolled around in the mud, blasting caps away at each other. Occasionally Marilyn would come out and watch us, once she even picked up a gun and fired it but then frowned and went back in the house. Neither Billy and I knew what her deal was, but we didn't care. We were having so much fun!
And he only lived down the road a bit from our trailer park!
"Try and dodge this one, Billy!" I shouted at him, blasting away on the cap gun.
He quickly slammed his stomach on the ground and starting rolling to "avoid" the "bullets". Then started firing at me while he rolled.
I tucked in my stomach and bent my back as if I were bending around the "bullets" that were firing around me.
"How about you try this up for size?" He stood up again and fired over his head.
And so we played like that until the sun began to set.

February 24th, 2008 Billy invited me to go coon hunting with his dad. Of course I asked my mama as soon as I possibly could, and she readily agreed, probably ecstatic that I had an actual friend.
So we were driving to his dad's favorite coon-spot in the twilight, guns in the back of their pickup, and a Marilyn sitting beside me on the bench seat in the back. We were laughing, talking, and sharing hopes of how big of a coon we might bag. Hands were tapping on the steering wheel and seats along to the tune of the AM country radio. Voices were singing, and we were humming. The pickup rocked with our over joyous attitude. Then Marilyn piped up,
"Oh, unccie! I forgot my good luck charm! We have to go back!"
Billy's dad turned his head and grinned at her. "You'd think I'd know my niece better than that, I have your good luck charm right here!" he told her, managing to look in the passenger seat beside him while simultaneously driving. I could see a brown rabbit's foot grasped in his large hand. Then he turned around quickly to hand the charm to Marilyn.
I saw his grip on the wheel slide down dramatically. The wheel was following every movement we made.
Then the rest appeared to me in flashes.
Someone was screaming. Maybe two people. And then a horrible noise.
There was metal screeching, breaking, ripping, tearing away at metal. As if there was a clash between a hundred giant mammoths all screaming and clashing their tusks in a horrible fury of flying sparks.
And then the bumps. We were bumping, then a jerk as I could feel ourselves falling. It felt forever. My lungs and heart were up above my head, and my stomach was probably at my feet. Eyes were spinning, and there was that screaming.
My neck slammed against my spine as we landed. I could feel the brakes trying to grab traction against the slick ground. We were sliding. Faster and faster, gaining momentum until something stopped us.
Oh. That was nice of them to stop us. I heard someone faintly say. But I could hardly hear them, as if the person was a mosquito in my ear.
My body was jerked forward. I could see the very back of the seat, then my face was smothered into the fabric of it. The seatbelt was brought me back to my own seat, but as it did I could feel a horrible, killing pain in my shoulder and a snapping. Something was breaking. Then it wasn't breaking. It was already broken. And it was all over the truck as if someone had decided to litter sparkling tokens of thick pieces of frozen fairy dust. It was on my lap, and across my body.
I saw a few flashes of the light catching the glass. I remembered when the light caught my button eyes. That's when mama had remembered me. After she had forgotten me.
"Forgot..." I heard myself saying. The words passing through my lips, passing through whatever that warm, thick substance was in my mouth. I didn't care. All I knew at that moment was I couldn't forget Marilyn, Billy and the dad.
I managed to lift my neck high enough to see Billy's dad. He was moving, slowly, and gasping. Gasping. Never stopping.
Marilyn was still next to me, I could feel her. Painfully turning to look at her, I could see she was curled up and whimpering, specks of ketchup were splattered across her clothes. Why would she have ketchup... I thought to myself without really thinking. My mind was in automatic and my body was on manual. Everything was happening but I wasn't reacting.
Then there was Billy. I couldn't feel him. I couldn't see him. I tried to turn, to move, to catch of glimpse of him alright. Maybe pointing a cap gun towards my direction and laughing. When I turned, the pain clouded over my eyes like a black sheet. Smothering my consciousness like a hood of death.
Am I dieing...

Flashing lights. A white truck. People running around the truck. Yelling. Lots of noise.
Everyone be quiet. I'm trying to sleep.

I couldn't feel Marilyn beside me. Her uncle, the dad, wasn't in front of me anymore. There still wasn't a Billy. At least that flashing, noisy white truck was gone. I was cold. Something was itching pricking at my arm, I wanted to brush it off, but someone had grabbed my arm. I tried to look at her, but the black sheet came back. Jumping on me and blackening my senses again.
"THEY FORGOT ME!" I screamed, trying to get the black sheet away. It was too late.

Then the black sheet became warm. Comforting. Mama was in front of me, I could see her.
"Mama..."
She was so pretty, her long hair finally was down, falling freely around her shoulders. But she was walking away from me.
"Mama!"
She didn't turn around to look at me. Just walking. Then I saw someone else. A man. He was smiling at mama. I bet mama was smiling back, she always did.
When she wasn't worrying.
"MAMA!"
She reached the man. She was in his embrace. Then they were both gone. Suddenly. Some part of me fell apart.
"YOU FORGOT ABOUT ME! YOU PROMISED!"
I could feel myself collapsing on the ground. But there was no ground. Everything was black and dark. It was suddenly cold. As if the warm, loving, protecting shell that had surrounded me had broken away and left with my mama and that man... As if her love was the only thing that kept me together, and protected from the harshness of the world.
I laid there. The wind of cold reality buffeting against me, blowing my tears away into little icicles that hit the black ground behind me.
Then. There was warmth.
At first a little glimmer of it. Like the heat you feel if you put your hand over a candle.
The feeling got larger. And warmer. Until I felt someone's presence close to me. I wanted to turn to see who could it be. But my body just wouldn't let me. So my tears kept flowing, and I was still curled up into a ball of deep sorrow.
"Who are you..."
A sweet smell of vanilla brushed past my face. Perfume. The person was a lady. I knew that I would never recognize this person. Her presence was so new, so kind.
The loving shell that had left, I could feel a form of it coming back to me. Surrounding me with tranquility and bliss. But it was new. A different kind of love. It wasn't my mama.
My urge to see this person was now uncontrollable, I thrashed around until my eyes were finally facing her. Her smile widened into a beautiful show of her white teeth. "Ride your first bull, Sam. You'll regret it if you never do."
Then she was gone.

Forgotten again.

Remington Country


Remington Country

PostPosted: Sun Feb 24, 2008 2:16 pm


User Image Forgotten Promises

Later That Day I awoke in a room that was white and baby blue.
There were also teddy bear and kitten stickers placed haphazardly on all the walls. But there were only three walls, the fourth to my left was a curtain. And I was in a bed.
What happened...
The bed was strange. Not at all like my cot. For one the mattress was much more cushioned. However the sheets smelled like chemicals and there were machines all around me that I had never seen before.
"Oh my god..."
I heard it, but I didn't say it.
Curious, I looked around, thinking I was the only one here.
"I have to get the doctor..."
Doctor! I thought. What the... What happened...
I sat there. Waiting for answers. But none came. Just the ticking of that horrible black clock that was on the wall across from me. Ticking. Ticking. Minutes melted by. Then I heard a door slam.
"Nurse, that's impossible! I'm telling you for the last ti-" I saw an old man with a graying beard and little hair on top of his head. He had on ugly scrubs that were in a morbid grey color. "Oh my. What kind of medical phenomenon is this?!"
I looked at him strangely. Phenomenon...
"Oh yes, oh yes. Son. I need you to listen to me, and listen to me closely. What is your name, and what is your guardian's name and contact information?" he leaned in closer to me, talking loudly and spacing his words far apart.
Guardian...
"Oh you mean my mama!" I piped up. Then slapped my hand over my mouth.
That wasn't my voice! It was the voice of someone much older... As if some man had come and replaced my voice with his.
"Yes, son, then. Your mama." His tone was getting impatient. So I quickly rattled off mama's name and her phone number.
"Oh- and she's my cousin. The only guardian I got. But I call her my mama, cause she raised me..." I added in quietly.
The doctor just looked at me over his spectacles and arched an eyebrow, but still nodded.
"Now I just need your name, Son."
"Sam!" I exclaimed.
And there was that horrible voice again. Except the pitch seemed to change as I finished pronouncing the 'm'. I coughed to try and cover it up.
This time the doctor turned away from me, and to the nurse that was cowering behind him. "Nancy, call this number and tell her what happened. Tell her that she has to come right away, nothing can be excused for this emergency."
"Where's Billy?!" I shouted at him, suddenly remembering. "And Marilyn, and the dad!"
He turned back to face me, his face was stern and angered. I shrunk down a few inches into my sheets.
"And get his friends too..." he told the nurse who promptly scurried away.
The doctor gave one angered glance at me, then searched my head to toe with his steely eyes.
"I don't know what happened to you, son, and I don't think you know either. But I'd advise you to go look in a mirror. I'll give you time alone while we wait for your 'mama'. " He picked up a clipboard that was attached to my bed and walked out of the room.
I sat up, and scooted myself over so my legs dangled over the edge of the bed. Something was poked into my arm and connected to a bag that was hung above my head. Deciding to leave it there, I walked over to the curtain that separated my bed from the rest of the room. Shoving aside the curtain, I saw a whole other bed, with just the same contraptions set up all around it. Then there was the mirror!
But all the way over there, and here I was, anchored to this watery bag. Scowling, I eyed the stand that the bag was hung on. It looked like there was a long tube connecting the bag, and another long tube connecting the bag to my arm. So I picked up the stand with the bag along with it, and walked as far as the tube would let me. Then I walked myself the rest of the way that my tube would allow.
I was still quite a few feet away, but I could see myself plenty good in the mirror.
I was so much taller! And my face was different! But I was also in appeared to look like a dress... It was very short, only just below my waist, and very tight around my torso. As if it were made for a kid, and not for... me.
Whatever I was now!

March 3rd, 2008 A week gone by.
In a blur, I can hardly understand what happened to me.
First thing, mama coming in, started crying on me. I wasn't sure why she was crying, she was just crying. I spoke to her in my strange voice, trying to tell her to stop crying. Then I remember her looking up at me and saying 'I'm crying because you're still alive Sammy. I thought you were dead and gone. But here you are, alive, and changed again...
Then the next day the doctors let me out of the hospital with a concussion, broken collar bone, and a busted nos.. They told me no riding bulls for at least six weeks, or sheep, or anything that would buck or knock me off. And mama never left my side, she was glued to me, making sure that nothing happened to me. She even missed a whole week of school. Over and over again she'd check on my head and shoulder, her eyes bursting with tears.
Then she'd get on the topic of school. The doctor had checked me over mostly for the cause of my sudden growth spurt, since mama had decided not to let on that she knew how somehow, and I decided to follow mama's lead. In the end he finally decided that it was a freak occurrence from sudden trauma, and tested my knowledge and decided that I was eligible to move on to Highschool.
Mama cried then too. We'd be going to the same school now. Even though she said she was a "senior", which was strange to me, I didn't think she was old enough. She didn't even have wrinkles!
She decided that a week of missing school was enough for the both of us. We'd both be going tomorrow. Waking up at the same time, coming home at the same time. It all felt weird to me. I looked the same age as mama now, we looked as if we were brother and sister. Not a mother and son.
Mother and son...

March 6th, 2008 I walked down the old halls of the high school, backpack across my right shoulder. A few times I had seen Mama, but mostly I just saw masses of other people. At the moment it was lunch, and I was trying to figure out where the Cafeteria was, but at the same time I wasn't prepared to ask someone. So I was just walking around, trying to look like I wasn't lost at all.
The halls were nearly empty. Only a few students were walking out of classrooms, their teachers probably holding them and talking to them after class. A girl was walking past me, she had short bleached hair that was nearly white. I couldn't help looking at her twice, part of her hair was dyed bright pink! Then I looked down unconsciously, and noticed her big baggy black pants with chains sweeping from leg to leg. I stopped where I was.
"What kind of pants are those? I asked her.
She stopped suddenly, and put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "Oh shut up! Jesus, all you hicks are the same. You're not open to any originality! You're just all camo and Carhartts." she snapped at me before rolling her eyes and walking on.
"But... I was just wondering..." I muttered almost silently as I watched her stalk off.
Then my eyes were caught on the doorway of the class nearest to me. There was a guy leaning against the frame, with a camouflage baseball cap, and brown carpenter pants. He smirked at me, showing off his slightly yellowed teeth. "You look like the new guy I've heard some people talk about. I can see that you already have a friend." He said, then jerking his head in the direction the girl had walked away.
"But I was just tryin to fi-" I tried to explain to him.
"Oh don't worry, I don't care. Sometimes those goth, punk, emo, or whatever they are, just need a teasing or bit. They like it. Otherwise they wouldn't wear such weird clothes. I sure can't think of another reason for chains on your pants. Sure can't use them for breaking horses." He interrupted me. His gaze was over my shoulder, and off in a different place it sure seemed like. Then his eyes snapped back to me and he quickly shook his head, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Buck. And I break horses in at the ranch on Railroad Avenue, you ever seen that big ol' place?"
I grabbed his hand and shook it. "I don't think I have. And, oh, I'm Sam." I smiled.
"You seem odd, Sam. Were you home schooled or something?"
I hardly even know what a home school was, so I shook my head. "No." Then I paused for a minute before speaking again. "But I ride bulls!"

March 7th, 2008 The gate opened, creaking and complaining as it swung away from me. I walked into the barn, hands in my back pockets. Mama walked briskly directly behind me, she seemed nervous for reasons unknown to myself. Looking over I noticed that I was taller than her, probably no more than a few inches, but taller none the less. I grinned at that.
"Sounds like your new clients just came in, Joe." we could hear a loud masculine voice shouting from the background.
Then we heard a scream of a bull, and a smacking noise as he heaved his 2,000lb body against the metal bars that contained him. He snorted and stamped his cloven hooves.
A man with black hair jumped from a room on our right, over to the raging bull. "Hey, Ricochet, careful there bud! No use hurtin' yourself before the ridin' even starts!" his voice was jovial, and his face shined with laughter. He was taller than myself, probably standing at a husky 6' 4". His attire was similar to mine, jeans that were wearing thin across the front of his leg, crusted with mud from the knee down. And a red shirt tucked smartly underneath a large buckle that proudly declared the number "8" across it's silver shine. Then he turned to us, and his smiling face broke plum into a grin.
"Howdy!" he said to us, downright ecstatic with our presence. "So you're the one who wants to ride bulls, huh? Well the name's Joe!" He stuck out his right hand, his palm almost black with dirt.
It sure seemed like I was shaking a lot of people's hands lately. "Sam." I told him, cracking a half-smile.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of bull riding, Sam!" we grasped hands and he shook mine heartily, shaking me down to the bone. Then he raised his arms and gestured to the stalls around him. "We've got the best selection of bulls this side of the Rockies! There's everyone from Paisley to Thistle, Tornado to the all-feared Ricochet! And of course you've got yourself the darn best teacher you could find!" He pulled at his blaze orange suspenders with his thumbs, and then let them snap back against his chest.
"Yes, well about the lessons..." My mama started to say. Her voice was quiet and weak, very different compared to Joe.
"Don't you worry about that, missy! Your aunt told me about your financial situations, and if Sam here just helps us out here for an hour or two everyday then I'm sure that'll quite make up for it." he told us, then I could see his eyes sizing us both up. "For cousins, you guys don't look a thing alike."
My mama shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, people tell us that all the time."
I didn't know if I was imagining it, but it sure looked like Joe had raised his eyebrow for a split second, as if he were questioning something. But then the look was gone and his face was broken in two by his large smile again.
"Alright, Sam m'boy. I'll give you the grand tour!"

March 8th, 2008 I wiped the sticky beads of sweat away from my forehead with the back of my hand. My red hair was in clumps around my face, hanging around me in shaggy lumps.
Joe had advised that I start to lift weights, or something of that sort. He told me you did use your legs to stay on, but on bucks and spins you gotta use a lot of arm strength. Of course, mama couldn't afford weights of a size big enough to make a significant difference.
So I lifted hay bales.
I'd place my hand around the twine on either side of the bale, and I'd lift. I'd try to get it above my head and hold it there for a few seconds.
However, I only managed that twice.
Hay is heavier than it looks.
Then Joe said before he starts me on a real bull, he'd put me on a mechanical bull. And so he did.
That's when I found out it took more leg muscles to stay on a bull than what I had. So I took up running too.
I guess my body shape had stayed the same when I became a teenager from a kid suddenly. Scrawny.
But man, that mechanical bull is more fun than anything I could describe. It gives you a rush.

After my hay bale lifting, I ran to Joe's to help him take care of the place. He handed me a pitchfork, pointed at a wheelbarrow and told me to get to work.
Now in the bull's stalls ( or more like small pens), they had mats and they'd just pressure wash all of the crap away. But Joe also had quite a few horses. Most were roping horses, but some were cutting horses or barrel horses for rodeo.
So I cleaned out them horse stalls. I noticed how some horses were real neat and tidy with their stalls, but others just shredded their crap to pieces.
Shredded crap is really hard to clean up.

March 10th, 2008 I had a whole group of friends to hang out with.
Everyday at lunch (I found out how to get to the Cafeteria!) they'd always tell me to come sit with them, welcoming me with their open arms. We'd even share jokes, stories, laugh, and mess around.
Occasionally I could see dirty looks from teachers or administrators who perused in-between the lunch tables. Some of the guys did get a little rough. But maybe it was just because we were a loud, happy table, and the teachers were stuck watching all of us.
Probably.
All this new friendship reminded me of Billy, his cousin and his father. As far as I knew, they had done well after the crash. In fact, they had all even left the hospital before me. I knew that talking to them may be awkward, after my "freak growth spurt" and all. Besides, my mind was thinking in different ways.
No longer did I find pretending to shoot each other with cap guns fun. The Guys had invited me to a field for some paintballing, which they told me is tons of fun. And now I didn't want to play bulldozers in the sand, instead I got to clean out barn stalls.
But what shocked me the most, was that I didn't think I Marilyn was beautiful anymore. She was just... Cute. In the little kid sense.
My mind was working in overdrive in more ways than one. All these high school girls, with their perfectly in-place hair that they always seemed to be obsessed about and... And their large chests!
I mentioned it slightly to Mama once, and she told me to never mention it to another female again. Until I had a wife, and it was about her. But I didn't see what the big deal was, I mean it looked like all of The Guys liked them too.. They got pretty fanciful pictures of 'em on their binders.
Maybe I'm in over my head with this high school stuff.

March 15th, 2008 Mama would look at me a lot. She'd be doing her homework, and I mine, and I'd look up from it and her eyes were glued on me. However, as soon as she noticed she'd look down and start doing her homework.
Finally I asked her why.
"It's just... Oh, Sammy. When you were littler we talked more, and I felt like I finally had a best friend again..." She told me, her eyes starting to become red and filled with tears.
I sat up from my chair, homework falling to the floor, and walked over to her. Grasping her head in my hands, I hugged her tight. "Just cause I'm older don't mean we ain't friends no more, Mama. I still love you just the same."
"Oh good. Oh good. Remember when you t-told me-" she sniffed and rubbed her nose and eyes before continuing, "When you told me that no one would ever forget us because of the love we shared..."
I nodded and just smiled at her.
"You've been hanging out with the wrong kind, I was getting scared..." she went on, her eyes red.
Then I stopped smiling.
I stepped back away from her, and my judgement was blinded by a bittersweet anger. "What do you mean the wrong kind?!" I demanded of her.
"Oh, hunny, hunny. Don't be mad." She sniffed again, and the waterworks started to cascade down her cheeks. "Just the people you hang out with, they tend to get in lots of trouble. I-I don't want you to go down that path, Sammy!"
"You'd think I'd have better common sense that!" I stormed.
"No, I do. I do! But-"
"But what?! You forgot about me, Kelsey! You forgot about me for your own boyfriend! The new lady had to come and help pull me out of the pain and misery!"
"You'd always call me 'mama'..." I heard her gently say. "And when have I forgotten about you?" her voice was so quiet, it was barely above a whisper.
I glared at her. "Well I don't think you're my Mama anymore, if you can't trust me and you forgot about me!" I clenched my fists and walked towards the door. I heard her stand up.
"When I have forgotten about you?!" I heard her shout at me as I left, slamming the old screen door.
My mud-slathered leather shoes stirred up dust as I walked down the road of our trailer park. I didn't know where I was going. I was just walking. I knew she wouldn't follow.
She thought that I'd always come back.
Maybe this time I wouldn't.

April 7th, 2008 I didn't come back. Well, okay I did, but I was never really there. Homework was in piles around our cramped, shared room. My clothes were piled high in a suitcase, sitting there waiting for me to take the initiative to move on.
And I did. I saved myself up enough money to buy a good tent, and I'd sleep out in the woods, and cook cheap hot dogs and sausages over a smoky fire. Never really telling mama where I was.
I'd wake up mighty early and give myself a spit bath in the crick, put on clean boxers and tried to wash the mud stains out of a pair of jeans I didn't wear yesterday. My shirts were wrinkled, but they were all clean, I couldn't stand to have dirty shirts. So I'd walk downtown and pay two quarters for a wash and a dry down at the laundromat. Occasionally I'd go home and do the washing.
After I was all spick and span, I'd start walking to school. Of course, it takes me awhile so I start walking in the dark, my thick-soled leather shoes had lots of miles in to them.
At school the guys wouldn't comment on my dirty attire. Most of them looked the same, but I'd bet you a week's worth of lunch money that they did it for looks, not cause it's how it was.
School was alright. I was passing by the skin of my teeth, I never really did the homework. I mean, I'd try, sure darn I would. Just it wouldn't come to me. The questions wouldn't make sense, and my answers wouldn't come no matter how many times I used the algebraic formula, or how well I knew the difference between a long vowel and a short one.
It as just becoming too hard for me. So I gave up.
Besides, after school was what I looked forward to everyday. No matter how bad my grades were, Joe would always let me ride bulls as long as I cleaned. And I clean alright, I cleaned as much as I could. Hard work was my best friend, I could use all my pent-up frustrations from the day and let them flow through my tanned, dirty, muscular arms into the broken-tined pitchfork.
Nothing like the smell of sweating horses and hay to ease the spirits.
I hadn't yet started to ride actual bulls yet, Joe wanted me to slowly ease up. But he said I had potential, lots of it. I couldn't wait for my first bull.
Everyday I'd walk up to each one and look them in their eyes. They say you can see a critter's whole soul and personality by looking them in their eyes, you just gotta know what to look for. Those bulls must have pretty mean souls, cause everytime I'd take a look at them, they'd eye me with beady pupils, rolling them so the whites would show. Most of them would snort and scratch the dirt with a cloven hoof, trying to intimidate me.
But I knew they couldn't phase me.
I was Sam! The soon-to-be-greatest bull rider in the world!

April 15th, 2008 It was one of the few days I was home, and I had dumped my gym bag full of dirty clothes next to the washer. My face was shoved in the fridge, looking for something, anything to try and curb the hunger that was ripping my stomach apart.
Finding a few large sticks of sausage and a can of Dr. Pepper, I ripped myself from the fridge while happily chewing on a sausage out of the corner of my mouth.
Then I heard giggling.
Popping open my can of pop, I walked into the room that the laughter was coming from. Taking a long swig, I eyed my mama out of the corner of my eye. When I lowered my can I saw that she had a friend over.
Her hair was real curly, parts of her hair fell around her face, like they were trying to escape the tight ponytail that the rest of her hair was in. I ain't never seen hair that curly before, but on her it looked real good. Then I looked down from her hair, and noticed that she had the deepest, darkest black eyebrows that I've never seen. They looked really big on her face, but her blue eyes were bigger. She flicked a strand of her light brunette hair out of her face, then noticed me and smiled.
Mama then noticed me, and she grinned real big. "Oh Sammy! You're back!" She came running up to me and hugged me, pressing her face into my shoulder. "Please stay this time, Samsam. Tell me what's wrong, I know something's up." She whispered to me, probably so her friend couldn't hear.
Then she pulled away and motioned towards the girl. "Sammy, this is Megan. Megan, this is my cousin Sam."
I nodded at her and stuck out my right hand, then I noticed all the sausage grease and dirt that covered my palm. Withdrawing my hand for a split second, I wiped it on the seat of my jeans and stuck it back out again. My face felt real hot.
She shook my hand. "Nice to meet you, Sam." is what Megan said to me, flashing a smile filled with braces. But they weren't nerdy looking braces, they looked darn good on her.
"Same." I said, sticking my thumb in the front pocket of my pants, my sausage and Dr. Pepper in the other. "So do you go to our high school?"
She nodded and smiled politely, like she was answering the question of some little kid.
Then I remembered. Mama's a senior, Megan must be too then... That made me feel stupid, cause even I knew that freshmen hardly spoke to any upperclassmen...
Excusing myself with a nod, I quickly trotted into the room that mama and I usually shared. My cot was nicely made, with clean sheets, as if it were waiting for me when I came back. While mama's bed was a complete mess, but what was very strange to me was that her pillows were dry. Mine were slightly damp, and a little salty by the feel of them as I glanced my fingers of the soft fabric.
Ma was crying...
I sat down on the bed, and laid my sausage aside and took another swig of my pop.
Maybe it won't hurt to stay for the weekend, for Mama's sake.
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