Footsteps
Blazing a new trail is difficult for a young burn victim, but he manages well enough with support from his mother, some unusual help from his sister, and a little luck.
Chapter 19: Shared Memories
Chapter 20: Recharge
Chapter 21: Old Friends
Chapter 22: Drifting Apart
Chapter 23: True Friends
Chapter 24: Memorial
In My Sister's Footsteps
by Terry Volkirch
Part 4 of 8
Chapter 19: Shared Memories
"Why are you afraid of the school restrooms?"
"I don't ... didn't like the smell. They used to smell like urine and cigarette smoke."
"They don't smell bad any more?"
"No."
"So you went into the restroom?"
"Yes."
"Did you go alone?"
"No. I went with my friend, Tracy, and I was fine. But she left ahead of me and I got scared."
Doctor Franklin figured out pretty quickly that I confused the boy's restroom with the girl's. My brother had been afraid of going in them. He told me they were full of bullies and drug dealers, and he complained about the awful smell all the time. She just had to help me forget about the boy's restroom and build on my positive experience with Tracy.
"If at all possible, go to the restroom with Tracy or another girl, and if you go alone, just remember how you feel when you're with Tracy. Focus on the smell too. It won't smell like your false memories so it can't be the same place you imagined."
I nodded at the wise advice. She fixed my mental leak and I was happy. But she didn't stop there.
"Was Tracy your friend before the accident?"
"Yes. She came over to my house lots of times so I know she's my friend."
"What did you do when she came over?"
"We watched movies sometimes. I'm not sure what else we did."
"Did you celebrate anything special like birthdays?"
"Yes. She came over when my brother and I celebrated our birthday."
I smiled as Doctor Franklin helped me remember some things about my friend. I didn't remember much more than I already knew but I got enough extra information to feel much better about my friendship with Tracy. I even remembered that her birthday was October 12th, though I didn't remember celebrating with her. I also remembered that we got each other a friendship bracelet. I lost mine in the fire and I vowed to bring up the subject sometime. Hopefully, she'd take the hint and get me a replacement.
My hypnotic session ended and Doctor Franklin let herself out without asking for payment or anything. It was a thoughtful gesture, and it only served to increase the respect I had for her. She just went out of her way for me and helped me so much. She always left me with a warm, happy glow. It made me wonder why Michelle didn't like her.
***
The next morning started as an instant replay of yesterday, including Sherry White's posing for the boys. The first major difference came as I wove my way through the busy halls on the way to the gym. I had flashbacks of taking a shower in the locker room and my feet suddenly froze to the floor.
"What are you doing?" Michelle asked. She'd been quiet for so long, she made me jump.
"I'm having a little anxiety, if that's okay with you. I'm not sure I want to go to P.E."
"Why? What's your problem? Shit! You've got it made. Just think of all those hot babes in the shower." Michelle's voice oozed lust.
"That's the problem. I'm not sure if I can handle it."
"Look. I think you're crazy if you don't go, but if you're gonna skip, then skip. Just don't be late," she told me. "Only losers are late."
"Fine."
Michelle gave me the push I needed. She knew I'd never skip class. I hung my head and charged forward, ready to brave the lionesses den.
***
Once again, losing myself in thought helped me ignore the other girls and change clothes. We all made it out to the gym on time and I gave a repeat performance on the court. Yesterday was not a fluke.
"You should try out for the high school team," one of the volleyball squad members told me during the game. "You're pretty good."
"Thanks, Angie. I'll think about it. I'm still a little distracted by things for now."
"Yeah. I heard about your brother. Sorry."
We continued playing and class ended all too soon. It was time to head to the showers.
As I walked to the locker room, the curvy rear ends of a couple girls in front of me captured my attention. I couldn't look away. I really did like girls. It wasn't a bad thing, but I had to find a better way to handle it.
I could almost feel Michelle drooling over the prospect of seeing my classmates naked, but her unrestrained lust had a fortunate effect on me. It got me a little angry, allowing me to take a shower without any awkward feelings. I ignored the girls fairly well, and when I couldn't help look, I mostly kept my eyes on their face, depriving my inner lesbian tomboy of a satisfying peek.
"You bitch!" Michelle accused me after I'd dressed and left for my next class. "How could you tease me like that? C'mon!"
"Thanks," was all I said to her.
"Huh?"
"You might not have meant to, but you helped me get through it. I think I'll make it now. Thanks."
Occasional looks were okay, and unavoidable. It was only the staring that could get me into trouble. I just reminded myself how much I hated to be stared at and the rest was easy.
Michelle just responded with, "Whatever."
She sulked but I didn't feel sorry for her. I knew she still had plenty of fond memories to keep her occupied. I knew because we both shared the same memories, and there'd be plenty more before the end of the school year.
The rest of the day wasn't nearly as interesting. I met Tracy at lunch and relayed the few new things that I remembered about her. I also included the hint about getting me a new friendship bracelet. I hope she took hints well.
My girl talk rarely suffered any interruptions from Michelle. My inner tomboy seemed strangely subdued when I engaged in more feminine activities. It was only when I was alone that she really livened up. I'm sure part of the reason she talked to me more then was because she had my undivided attention. She felt I'd be more likely to listen to her crazy ideas.
Chapter 20: Recharge
Michelle drove me crazy on the walk home. She had me all to herself and she rambled the whole way.
"You were quiet for three days. Why are you so hyper now?" I asked her.
"Promise not to tell?" she said with a mischievous lilt.
"Like, duh. Who's there to tell? You know I won't give you away to Doctor Franklin. And if I told anyone else, it'd eventually get back to her."
Michelle shuddered. "Please. Don't say her name. She gives me the creeps."
"Sorry. Now are you gonna tell me why you're hyper?"
With only a little more prodding, she eventually told me her theory about how and why she came and went. She claimed she'd always been around, watching and waiting. She never said anything in the hospital because she was scared to death of Doctor You-Know-Who. She didn't use the word "scared" but I could easily feel her fear, and I understood her fear as she continued.
She said she always felt drained after a hypnotherapy session, like a part of her had died. She imagined herself slipping away, little by little.
After each session, she conserved her energy and clung to whatever memories she could find that seemed to give her strength. Mostly, she thought about playing sports and girls, and that explained her current state of mind. Playing volleyball and being in the girls locker room had recharged her.
"Fascinating," I said to myself.
"Just promise me you'll give volleyball a chance next year," she almost pleaded.
"I'm considering it," I teased. "But I bet you like the idea more because there'd be more shower time."
She laughed.
I'm sure I should've been a lot more disturbed about having a second personality, but Michelle's presence was strangely comforting. She reminded me a little of my brother, and if I could, I'd definitely keep her around.
***
I hadn't been home more than 10 minutes before my cell phone played it's default tone. I frowned and made a mental note to take the time to change the ring tones as I pulled it out of my backpack. I was ready to be a little annoyed about having my homework interrupted until I checked the name on the display.
"Hi Tracy!"
The minutes flew by pleasurably, my homework temporarily forgotten. There was only one awkward moment.
"I'm sorry," I told her after she invited me over. "I don't remember where you live."
"That's okay," she said, though I could hear disappointment in her voice.
"No, it's not, but I'll make it up to you. How would you like to go shopping with me and my mom tomorrow after dinner?"
"Do bees buzz? Do flies fly?"
"Ewww! Bugs!" I laughed. "But I'll take that as a yes."
We made a date. I figured my mom would know where Tracy lived so there'd be no problem getting together for a trip to the mall. I still had a lot of little things I needed ... or wanted. Sometimes I had trouble telling the difference.
After I hung up, I suddenly felt Michelle's presence. I could always tell when she lurked nearby.
"Are you ready to do some homework now?" she asked.
"You like homework?" That surprised me. She talked about skipping school and she seemed to love sports so I figured she'd rather be outside, running around like a maniac or something.
"Sure. I want to sink my teeth into some serious math problems. I like math."
"What?! Are you nuts?!"
We had a short, intense debate about whether English was superior to math but had to agree to disagree. It made me wonder if I could somehow take advantage of her love of math though, and we performed a little experiment.
I sat on my bed with my homework spread around me and relaxed. Then I cleared my mind, and though I didn't dare use the word hypnosis around Michelle, I really did use a form of self-hypnosis. Doctor Franklin had recommended it to help control my anxiety when memory conflicts threatened to rear their ugly head. I'm sure my psychologist would be upset to know that I'd be using her technique to do just the opposite and encourage a kind of memory conflict. I'd found a part of me that loved math, just like my brother did, and I'd be encouraging myself to indulge in that love.
My experiment turned out to be a success. I found out as soon as I heard Michelle calling me back to planet Earth. My math assignment was finished and my crazy other self even drew a little heart with a smiley face in it.
"I thought I'd give it a girl's touch for you," she said. "I wouldn't want you to get too geeky."
"Oh ... thanks," I said with more than a little sarcasm at first. I quickly changed my tune though and thanked her properly. She really did do me a big favor.
Michelle sunk back into the far corners of my mind while I finished the rest of my homework, but when I finished, she came bubbling back. It almost made me laugh. She was so cute and I knew she'd hate it if I said so.
"It just hit me," she said after I printed my English homework and got ready to shutdown my computer. "Can I play some video games? Please?"
"Video games? I don't own any."
Michelle groaned, but she didn't give up.
"What about computer games?"
"Nope. None. Nada."
"Internet? Do you have Internet access?"
"Well, duh."
"Good enough!"
I mentally moved over but this time I watched as Michelle surfed the web looking for free trial game downloads. I warned her about the possibility of viruses but she just scoffed.
"That's what anti-virus software is for. Don't be such a whiner baby."
I suffered the rest of her surfing in silence and tuned out while she played a few games. It made her happy, and I thought it fair payment for doing my math homework.
Chapter 21: Old Friends
I gently eased into a routine at school. Bad memories of bullying haunted me but they didn't make sense with what I'd experienced so far. I just let it all go. No harm. No foul.
English seemed new and fresh while math and science annoyed me a lot more than I remembered. Only history remained its boring old self. History never changed.
P.E. continued to challenge me, physically and mentally. I liked the physical challenge and endured the mental. It got easier to withstand the view in the locker room. I just thought about softball whenever I showered.
The ping of the bat. The shouting of directions as I scrambled for the ball. "Throw it home! Slide! Slide!" I could almost hear the voices of the players and cheering of the fans. I didn't know about volleyball, but I fully intended to try out for the girls softball team. It wouldn't be long before the season started.
P.E. got me thinking about softball for the rest of the morning. My head hovered in the clouds as I daydreamed about playing shortstop. I'd scoop up the ball and flip it to second to start a double play. The other team wouldn't know what hit it. Then, when our team batted, I'd hit a blooper and easily get a single. My next teammate would then blast a double or triple and send me to third base or home for a score. I was fast.
By the time lunch rolled around, I'd fantasized about my team making it to the state playoffs. We'd win it all thanks to my diving snag to prevent a base hit in the bottom of the ninth. I threw to second for the force and saved the game. The fans went wild and my teammates picked me up and carried me on their shoulders. That's when the fantasy went all wrong. I looked down at the smiling faces and they were all boys.
I had another memory conflict. I'd built my daydream on some memories of playing boys baseball, but that couldn't be right. My brother played baseball, not me. I quickly rummaged through my backpack and pulled out my notepad to record the conflict. Then I raced to the lunch room to distract myself with some serious girl talk.
***
I found Tracy sitting with two other girls, one blonde and the other brunette. They looked familiar but I couldn't recall their names, so I tried to be careful.
"Hi!" I said, purposely neglecting to say Tracy's name.
"Hi Beth," they chorused.
"So?" I said. "What's the occasion? Where've you guys been?"
Tracy spoke up first, being diplomatic. I'd run into an awkward situation.
"I'm sorry, Beth. I told them about your memory loss and decided to ease you back into the gang. I hope it's okay." Her eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness but the situation still had me a little confused. It must have shown on my face so Tracy continued.
"I wanted to help you remember more on my own. You know. To keep things simple."
"I'm not a basket case," I grumbled. "I won't break down or anything."
"I'm sorry!" Tracy sniffled a little and melted my heart.
"It's okay." I smiled at her and she gave me a faint smile in return.
The situation remained awkward though. Tracy still hadn't thought to casually include the name of either girl. I kept alert and listened for any clues or opportunities to learn a name so I wouldn't hurt their feelings.
"I'm okay, really." I faced the two girls and smiled. "How've you two been?"
"Shelly's been keeping me up all night," the blonde said. "She's been driving me crazy. She keeps asking about you."
"Sorry." I didn't know what else to say. I didn't remember anyone named Shelly but I guessed she was a younger sister.
"Well can you like, call her tonight? Please? She won't believe anything I tell her. She needs to hear your voice."
"Oh. Well I would ... but I don't have your phone number." I hoped they couldn't tell I was sweating. Girls weren't supposed to sweat.
"Just look it up later. Duh."
I must have given her my best stupid look because she frowned at me.
"You don't remember my name, do you," she accused.
"Or mine," the brunette girl chimed in.
"I'm sorry," I said, my eyes tearing up. "I lost ... so much in the fire. I'm ... sorry." I lost it completely then. I sat there and cried. Tracy rushed a tissue to my eyes to stop the flow of tears and mascara while the other two girls looked at me with little sympathy.
Luckily, the tears didn't last too long, and I thought I did well to continue. I composed myself and hoped to start over yet again with some introductions.
"You remembered Tracy's name," the brunette said, sounding a little hurt.
"That's only because she's been over to my old house a lot. I don't remember seeing either of you two there."
"That's because we live a lot farther away," the blonde said, raising her voice. "You should know that much."
"She didn't remember where I live either," Tracy quickly said in my defense.
The other two girls stopped and looked at each other then, communicating solely with their eyes. They weighed the evidence for and against me, and I watched in fascination until they finally pronounced sentence.
"Okay. We're sorry, Beth," the blonde said. "We know it must have been hard for you."
"Can you forgive us?" the brunette added.
"Of course," I told them both with a smile. "But will you please tell me your names now?"
That didn't go over well, even when I maintained that I remembered their faces. They huffed and whined but eventually told me their names. The blonde was Anne and the brunette was Kathy. Their names still didn't ring a bell but I kept that to myself.
They all thought it strange about what I did remember, like there was a pattern they should recognize. They reserved judgment though. The dragged me through their system of justice and put me on probation until I could prove that I still belonged in their society.
***
I thought the first half of my day was bad, but it just kept getting worse. My afternoon classes bored me senseless and then I suffered in more ways than one as I walked home, listening to Michelle's take on my conversation at lunch.
"Your so-called friends sure are sensitive," she told me.
"Yeah."
"That's it? Yeah?"
"Whatever."
"What's with the one word answers? What's wrong?"
"I don't feel well. Okay?" I really didn't feel well. My insides ached. It shouldn't have been anything I ate. I always brought my own lunch and had pretty much the same thing everyday. It was boring but healthy, and safe.
"Don't you feel it?" I asked Michelle. I thought she should feel the same things I did. We shared the same body after all.
"Nope. I must be immune."
I could tell she smirked at me, and it just added to my irritation. Neither of us said any more. I continued walking in silence, looking down at my feet take one step after another towards home.
***
The bathroom medicine cabinet never looked so good. I lunged for some aspirin, gulped down a couple and started toward my bed to lie down. I didn't quite get there as soon as I hoped though. I suddenly felt the need to use the toilet.
I pulled down my jeans and underwear and that's when I panicked. Blood spots stained my pristine white panties.
"No!" I screamed.
I don't remember sitting down but that's how I found myself some time later. My legs started falling asleep from sitting too long on the hard toilet seat, and it bothered me enough to bring me back to my senses.
I no longer felt the need to urinate so I jammed a large wad of toilet paper into my crotch and pulled my clothes back up. Then I rushed to find my phone and called my mother from the comfort of my bed.
After she calmed me down, I explained the situation to her and she set me straight. I was having my period.
"Honestly, Beth. How could you forget something like that?"
"Uh ... I dunno."
"Oh! I'm sorry, sweetie. I ... forgot too. I'll leave work early and come home to help you. Okay?"
"Uh ... sure. Thanks." I hung up and dropped my phone on the bed next to me as I curled into a ball and groaned. Groaning helped ease the pain, a little.
While I was lying there, I played the conversation back in my head. She forgot too? I didn't know what she meant by that. Wasn't this my first period?
***
"This isn't your first you know," she told me soon after she got home. "But I guess you ... forgot. I'm so sorry. I didn't think about it."
The surgery I'd had supposedly interrupted my cycle and no one was sure when it would start again. My mother had planned to help me get ready for it but she'd been working too hard as usual and forgot. She made it up to me though.
The aspirin I'd taken earlier wasn't strong enough so she gave me something better. She had me pain free and cleaned up in no time. We had a nice mother-daughter chat about feminine hygiene and then made dinner. I felt human again after my meds and a nice hot meal, and I found myself ready to go out. Shopping called.
Chapter 22: Drifting Apart
"Are you sure you know the way?" I asked my mom. We were going to pick up Tracy for a trip to the mall.
"Yes, of course. She's been your best friend for years. Don't worry."
I sat back and tried to enjoy the scenery. I should've been paying attention to see how to get to my friend's house but once again, I was preoccupied.
Tracy was my best friend? I should've realized that. She was the first to contact me at school, and we had friendship bracelets. She even continued being a good friend, even though I'd forgotten so much about her.
I smiled when I thought about our first meeting after my return to school, and my thoughts rambled until I started thinking about Tracy's appearance and how nice looking she was. That's when things got complicated.
"It's about time you noticed her," Michelle suddenly whispered.
"Huh? Where have you been?"
"Here and there. You were busy being a girl so I winked out."
"Thanks for the support," I grumbled.
"Don't mention it." She giggled. "But let's get back to Tracy."
"What about her?" I didn't like the direction our conversation was going. I felt on the verge of some major blushing.
"You *like* her." Michelle almost sang the words.
"Yeah. So." Let the blushing begin!
"So ... you *really* like her. But there's no shame in that. I think she's hot."
"What would you know? You're not real." That was a low blow, but I was desperate to change the subject. We'd be picking Tracy up very soon and I didn't want Michelle making me drool all over my best friend.
"I'm not real?" She huffed. "I'm just as real as you, sweetheart. We're just two sides of the same coin."
"You use colorful metaphors," I accused. "You're just an eccentric little corner of my subconscious."
"Keep telling yourself that, Beth. But you can't hide behind big words."
"Big words? They're just words. It's called English! You should try it sometime."
Michelle laughed. "You're cute when you're angry."
"Oh!" My pathetic comeback just made her laugh more, and my dark mood finally caught my mother's attention.
"Goodness, Beth. Are you still in pain?"
"What? No. I was just thinking."
"What about? You just snarled." My mom smiled, trying to cheer me up.
I couldn't tell her about my conversations with Michelle so I had to think of something else. That's when I remembered my memory conflict. I had an appointment to make.
My mom stopped smiling when I asked her to call Doctor Franklin, and she frowned when I told her that my doctor had already made a house call.
"You're still having problems?" She asked with worry lines deeply etched on her face.
"Just a few. I'll be okay. They've been minor."
"I'll make an appointment for Saturday. Then I won't have to take off work. Is that soon enough?"
"Yeah. Sure. It can wait until then. Don't worry, Mom."
She laughed. Telling a mother not to worry is like telling the Earth to stop rotating.
***
We arrived at a small dark green house that I swore I'd never been to, but before I could get out of the car, Tracy shot outside. She opened the back car door, quickly slid inside and we were off.
"Shopping!" Tracy shouted. "I do love it so."
My mom laughed. "Hi Tracy. Welcome to the shopmobile."
"Hi Mrs. Wagner. Thanks for picking me up." Then she turned to me. "Hey Beth. Looking good, girl."
That made me blush. "Thanks. I wasn't sure I'd even make it earlier. You know. Girl problems."
"Girl problems?" Tracy looked puzzled. I must not have used that phrase before.
Lucky for me, my mother bailed me out. She set Tracy straight and the two of them had a long discussion about periods. We talked about the subject all the way to the mall. I added a couple comments but I felt very uncomfortable. I realized that I'd have to get used to the experience all over again.
***
Tracy and I went off to our usual haunts, leaving my mother to fend for herself. She didn't mind. She actually expected it. We girls needed some quality shopping time together.
As we strolled down the grand central hall, doing a little window shopping, Tracy confessed that she'd called Anne and Kathy. They'd be meeting us at the food court where we'd plan our shopping strategy and talk about boys.
The mall suddenly chilled by about 30 degrees. I'd hoped and expected to be alone with Tracy, not try to cozy up to those two again. They hadn't given me a very warm welcome yesterday so I found it hard to like them. Still, I had to give them another chance. They were Tracy's friends after all, and it wasn't so long ago when they'd been mine. Perhaps there was still a chance we could stay one happy gang of girls. Perhaps, but I doubted it.
Anne and Kathy had saved seats for us and we soon chatted recklessly into the evening, with Anne doing the majority of the talking. Yesterday's incident was apparently long forgiven and forgotten. Fine by me.
Shopping actually took a back seat in our discussion. That's because a steady stream of older boys poured out of the nearby movieplex and headed straight into the food court, where the price of fast food was much less expensive.
Several groups of the opposite sex sat at tables very near our own, and the girls all fell apart. They giggled and whispered to each other while pretending not to look across the way at the boys that they thought were cute. I didn't get it at all.
"Beth!" Anne whispered so loud I was sure she could be heard several tables away. "There's a boy over there," she pointed with her eyes, "who likes you. He keeps staring at you."
"What? Where?" I turned to look and almost had my arm yanked out of its socket. "Ow!"
"Don't look!" Kathy squealed. "He'll see you!"
"I'm sure he already knows we've noticed him. How could he not?" I scowled to show what I thought of the situation. Then I casually turned and waved to the boy in question.
"What is wrong with you?!" Anne shouted, causing everyone to stare at us, not just a few boys. "You don't wave! You never wave!"
"How else will they know you like them?!" I shouted back. "They can't read minds!"
Anne huffed but no words came out. I impressed myself that I accomplished the impossible and gave her a smug grin.
"I'm so embarrassed," Kathy wailed. "Let's get out of here."
Anne got up, still speechless, grabbed Kathy's arm and the two of them stalked off together.
Poor Tracy was torn. She'd been thinly disguising her interest in the boys along with the other girls and I completely ruined her fun, but we were best friends. You didn't abandon your best friend.
I pleaded with my eyes, reaching out to her with waves of my fear of being left alone. I wanted to belong. I needed a real friend, not those other two. I needed her.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed to me. Then she was gone.
I slowly shuffled back to the place my mother said to meet at and sat on a bench, waiting to be collected and shipped home. I felt empty. I was an unwanted, empty package being sent far away to a land of ice and snow.
Chapter 23: True Friends
"Where's Tracy?" I heard my mom ask from somewhere to my right. I stared at my feet so I wasn't sure exactly where she stood.
"She left," I muttered. "Can we just go, please?"
I felt my hand being gently held as I was slowly led to the car. The door opened and I climbed into the front passenger seat, clicked the seat belt and stared out the windshield. Everything looked blurry. It was either raining or I was crying.
"Beth? Talk to me, sweetie. Why are you crying?"
I gave her an abbreviated account of what happened. I forgot so much about my past life that I couldn't seem to fit in, not even with my old friends. They all left me, even Tracy.
"They weren't very good friends then," my mom growled. "But I'm surprised Tracy left. She's supposed to be your best friend."
"I know." I barely got the words out before my tears washed them away.
The drive home promised to be mostly quiet and somber. My mom tried to cheer me up a little but failed miserably. She wisely left me to wallow in self-pity. I couldn't say the same about Michelle.
"You won't miss Anne and Kathy." She tried to help too. I wished I could've smiled to show her I appreciated the effort.
"And don't worry about Tracy," she continued. "She'll be back."
"How do you know?"
"I could see it in her eyes."
"You saw her? How could you see her? How can you see?" It suddenly struck me as absurd that an imaginary friend, or whatever the hell she was, could see. She wasn't even there. I didn't sense her at all while I endured the disaster in the food court.
"Duh," was her response.
I temporarily forgot that she really was a part of me. She obviously saw through my eyes. She saw and heard and felt everything I did. The only difference was whether she asserted herself to communicate with me. I couldn't always detect her presence, but she was always somewhere deep inside me.
"Right," I said. "I'll have to trust you I guess."
"Call it woman's intuition," Michelle said, and I could feel her smile warming me from the inside out.
***
I sat alone at lunch the next day at school, with only Michelle to keep me company. I took what I could get, but I wasn't too upset. Volleyball had been a nice distraction. I played very well and my team finally won a game. I savored it and hoped to win many more.
"Did you get a good eyeful in the locker room this morning?" I teased.
"Did you?" she shot back.
"Touché." I grinned. She was right. I allowed myself a few extra peeks to help boost my morale. That probably helped more than anything. I definitely preferred girls.
"So how's your woman's intuition today?" I said. "Still believe Tracy will be back?" I had to change the subject. I really didn't think it would be a good idea to get Michelle too wound up about naked girls.
"Turn around!" she suddenly hissed.
"What?"
"Turn ...," she trailed off as a voice sounded behind me.
"Is this seat taken?" the voice said. It sounded like Tracy.
"No," I said, refusing to look. I couldn't believe she'd be back so soon, if at all.
The girl sat next to me, and though I still hadn't looked directly at her, I saw enough out of the corner of my eye to see who it was.
"Beth? Please, Beth. Look at me. I'm sorry about last night."
"Did you get home okay?"
"Yeah. I caught a ride with Anne and Kathy."
"Oh."
"Beth, I'm sorry I left you. I was really embarrassed and I didn't know what else to do."
"I understand," I lied, or part of it was a lie. I didn't understand her leaving me. I wouldn't have left her. But I did understand something else. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you."
"Yeah. Me too. I don't understand you, Beth. What got into you?"
I'm not really sure what she meant by that. I felt like I was just being myself, but I felt I owed her some excuse. One thing still bothered me about the whole incident.
"I guess I'm still upset about Anne and Kathy," I started turning my head in Tracy's direction but I wouldn't let myself look directly at her. "They didn't treat me very well two days ago. They seem more concerned about themselves."
"Yeah. I got that too. They were even worse last night. They kept acting like it was the end of the world for them, like they'd never get a boyfriend."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and they kept putting you down, after all you've been through. That's what really burned me up. You lost your home and ...." She started crying then.
That got my attention, and I finally turned to face her.
"Hey," I said, after watching a tear roll all the way down her cheek. "It's okay. You can say it. I lost my brother. I miss him but I won't fall apart if you say it."
"It's not just that, Beth." She sniffed and rubbed her eyes to compose herself. "You lost a lot of memories ... good memories. You lost a part of yourself. You're not the same any more."
That stung. Maybe I would fall apart if she kept talking.
"Yeah. Okay. You're right," I said. "But that doesn't mean we can't still be friends, does it? Do we throw it all away because I lost some memories? Can't we ... make more?" She got me crying then.
"No, of course we can still be friends. I just miss the old Beth, that's all. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
I hugged her to show my forgiveness but I wondered if things would ever be the same between us. I'd just have to calm down, take it slow, and find out. It might be difficult though. My heart fluttered terribly as soon as we hugged. The girl in my arms meant more to me than I could possibly admit, to her or myself for the moment. When I had a spare hour or two, I'd have to seriously examine my feelings for her. That is, I would if Michelle didn't beat me to it.
Chapter 24: Memorial
I carefully walked home, afraid my new accessories might slip out or something. It felt really odd, but at least I didn't have any pain. Menstruation wasn't so bad. It was just different. I could get used to it. I had to.
Once inside the apartment, I headed straight for my bedroom for a little music. I wanted to lie on my bed and think about nothing at all for the next couple hours. Homework could wait. The world could wait for all I cared. I needed some mental rest.
"That a girl," Michelle suddenly butted in. "Grab yourself some 'me' time."
"Hey. I'm trying to be alone here."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just wanted to ask a quick favor."
"What?" I snapped.
"Sheesh. Easy, girl. It's more a favor for you than me. I was gonna offer to do some of your homework while you took a little mental vacation."
I shrugged but agreed. Why not? She did ask nicely, and I'd get away from it all and still get my unpleasant homework finished. It would give me plenty of time to think about Tracy later too. I let myself go and as I faded out, I wondered if I went to the same place Michelle went when she wasn't around.
***
When I finally snapped out of it, it was dark outside. I had a quick check of the clock and yelped. It was already dinner time. I'd been out for a few hours.
"What the hell, Michelle?!"
No answer.
"Fine," I huffed as I got up off my bed and followed my nose to the small kitchen.
"Mmmm. Smells good, Mom."
"Thanks," she smiled at me. Then she looked up at the top of my head an laughed. "You've got bed head."
"Huh?"
I felt my short spiky hair and ran back to my room to fix it.
"Dang," I said as I looked at my reflection. "I must have been sleeping."
I apologized for Michelle even if she wouldn't answer. She must have let me sleep. I must have needed it. I had been stressed out a lot lately.
I fixed my hair as best I could. It just needed a very small dab of gel. I blended, rubbed and scrunched until I got the right consistency and then shaped myself to perfection.
"Better?" I asked as I entered the kitchen to start setting the table.
"Yep." My mom spared me a quick glance but she was busy stirring the creamy sauce for our spaghetti so I let her work. My stomach wouldn't have it any other way.
We soon sat at our small square wooden table and chatted about the day while we ate. My making up with Tracy set a good mood and the rest of the evening passed quickly.
I had planned on devoting more time to thinking about my best friend but my mother suddenly took precedence. My mom and I hadn't done much together since I returned to school so I suggested a movie, and she agreed.
We never did buy a television set. We rarely watched TV any more. Instead, we camped out on her bed and watched the movie on a small DVD player. It was the perfect setting for a romantic comedy. We propped ourselves up with pillows and laughed and cried our way through the whole movie. It was wonderful.
Tracy would wait at least another day. I didn't want to move too quickly and scare her away. 'Take it slow' became my mantra, and my life followed suit.
***
Friday was a great day, not because it was the last day of the school week, but because I'd finally get to read my English essay in class. I'd been waiting all week for it and I practically ran to school. If I wasn't so preoccupied, I'm sure I would've stopped and laughed at the irony. I still hated that school.
Once class started, I impatiently waited for my turn. I held my essay in my hands and forced myself not to look at it. I'd already read it dozens of times, and I'd be reading it once more soon enough. I didn't need to look at it until I was ready to read it to the class.
Mrs. Flaherty insisted on going in alphabetical order. I hated that. I hated going last, or almost last. Not many kids in school had a last name that came after Wagner, so I had a long wait. I could've passed the time more easily by listening to the other essays, but I wouldn't do that. I just couldn't. Nothing would distract me from my essay, not even Mrs. Flaherty's annoying voice each time she signaled a student to begin reading.
Eventually my turn came with several minutes to spare before the end of class. I stood up at my desk, looked down at the words ... and the impossible happened. They weren't my words. The beginning was all wrong, and I saw the outline of a heart with a smiley face. Michelle changed my essay. That bitch changed my essay!
I didn't know whether to be furious or scared or nervous or what. So I decided to mix them all together into one boiling pot of emotion. And I read the damn essay. I had to see what she wrote. I added a pinch of curiosity to my emotional stew and started.
It read:
Dear Mike,
my English teacher, Mrs. Flaherty, gave me a special assignment to write about my experiences with physical therapy in the hospital. I worked hard to get back in shape, and here I am, able to stand here and read this. It took many many long hard hours of exercise and a lot of pain to get my body back in shape, but I don't believe it's really possible to understand what I went through without going through it yourself. So I hope you forgive me if I change the subject to something better suited for my audience. I'm devoting this to you, my loving brother.
You woke up to the smell of smoke in the wee hours of the morning not so long ago. It must have been a horrible experience, one that I can only imagine. I can see you being confused and frightened, but instead of quickly saving yourself, you thought of me.
You fought your way through the smoke and flames down the hall and into my bedroom. By that point, you must have already been either severely burned or nearly passed out from the smoke, or both. I know this because I have no burn scars. You somehow lifted me up and pushed me out of my bedroom window to save my life, but you were too injured or weak to follow.
A fireman found my unconscious body below my window and eventually guessed what had happened. He carried me to a waiting ambulance and hurried back to find you still inside, slumped down below the window. He pulled your charred body out of the flames and carried you to safety. You were still alive, but by then it was too late. With third degree burns, or worse, over more than 90 percent of your body, you wouldn't survive long.
I was told you had a few lucid moments, hanging between severe pain and the mental fog induced by pain medication, and you asked about me. You wanted to make sure I survived. You cared more about me than yourself and your selfless devotion to me cost you your life. You're a hero, my darling brother. You're a hero and I'll never forget you. Each and every time I look in the mirror, I'll think of you, because you saved me and made it possible for me to see my reflection, everyday, for the rest of my life.
Good-bye Mike. Rest in peace. I love you.
Your loving sister, Beth
I barely choked out the last two lines. Tears ran down my face and I'm sure I looked frightful -- I never forgot my mascara. But I didn't care. Michelle's essay, or letter really, easily outshone mine. Her words made me happy and proud and sad, all at the same time. I was long past being upset. Instead I felt the warm glow of a wonderful mix of emotions, and I was pleased to note that there wasn't a dry eye in the classroom.
*** to be continued ***
© 2009 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.
Comments
Terry
This is really good! Mike is forming her own identity with Michelle, but that Dr. Franklin is so not nice! Her friends are starting to put the pieces together and we will see what happens. The scene in the mall was well done!
hugs!
grover
Interesting...
That "I forgot too" from the mother. It would appear that Dr Franklin was lying about Mom actually convincing herself that Beth lived and Mike died. No great surprise there, but it would appear that whatever reinforcement was being used on or by her to prevent her from giving it away wasn't entirely successful.
(Just caught up with this story tonight. Annoying that Dr Franklin's going to need to wipe out Beth's sports desires or abilities, if only to avoid anomalous drug tests when she reaches high school next year and tries out for volleyball or softball teams.)
Hope this story goes where I think it's headed, though Terry's comment that Michelle was a late addition to the story concerns me a little. I'm not sure whether I want Beth and Michelle to integrate or Michelle to take over completely...
Eric
When The Truth Is Revealed
That doctor should be imprisoned in the men's area for her deeds.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Superb
Great writing and superb story telling. I'm totally drawn in by this.
We now appear to be halfway through the story and you seem to be raising more questions without answering the previous ones. That to me foretells a crashing finale that will knock us sideways.
You use words so effectively and set each scene with sensitivity and realism.
I'm just waiting for Michelle to drop Beth in the s**t at some point; she seems to be more intrusive and controlling as time goes on. I also love the subtle way you are introducing doubts into the minds of Beth's erstwhile friends.
This is turning out to be a classic.
Susie
Two points
I'm just waiting for Michelle to drop Beth in the s**t at some point
Kinda hard to do, as Beth is dead.
But I got the idea that the essay was Michelle's swan song, since 'she' hasn't talked to Mike since that night the essay was written.
They know they can survive
Sweet
Another great chapter.
And, by the way, it wasn't just in the classroom where there weren't any dry eyes.
Sweet Story
There are certainly shades of R. A. H, 'I Will Fear No Evil'. It's an enjoyable twist from the young person's perspective. :) Portia
Portia
Michelle Is Fully Integrated into the Story
First off, thanks for all the comments. They're wonderful. :)
I wondered if anyone cried at the end of the memorial chapter. I cried writing it. *sniffle*
I know I said that Michelle wasn't a planned character, but the story fully evolved around her. She's fully integrated into the story, and I think she makes it much better. I hope you all agree.
It sounds like there's been a little confusion about Beth. The "true" Beth died but don't forget that Mike thinks she's Beth. That Dr. Franklin really isn't nice, is she.
My girlfriend growled at Dr. Franklin when she read the story. Any more growlers out there? I'm just wonderin' is all.
- Terry
Growl?
I really don't think that the right word. Spitting mad maybe. For someone, anyone much less a doctor to mess with this kid that has already been so much, makes her about the lowest form of life on the planet. Perhaps the only one that comes lower is the ones stinking of coffee! :)
Hugs!
grover
Michelle is what I suspect Mike may have become ...
if Dr Frankenstein had not played her heavy hand.
Mike was/is very adapable and loves his late sister enough to make a sucess as *Beth*.
I see the logic in killing of Mike publically and resurecting Beth for Mike's sake but the way Dr Frankestein is doing is is sickening.
I hope mom and Beth/Mike learn the truth and that bitch doctor gets her come upance. Maybe the nice nurse will break cover and help them. Mike does not need to become a blend of Michelle and Beth, he deserves his own shot at a life. God I hate that doctor and Mr Coffee breatth!
Great job so far.
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
Another Great Chapter
RAMI
Enjoyed this chapter. Still waiting to see what is going on and why Beth was brain washed.Is there a plausible explanation, or is the doctor acting on her own? She is a terrible person. What happened to our peepping Tom? How come no one knows what happened to the two kids. Is the whole hoospital staff in on the conspracy?
RAMI
I believe that Mike and mom became ...
... test cases for either the military or government men in black. Dr. Franklin and the Dirty Old Man are probably in cahoots with their or their bosses' own agenda that has nothing to do with what's good for Mike or his/her mom.
"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show
BE a lady!
Sister's Footsteps Part 4
There was a brief reference to "military personnel" staffing the hospital (or special clinic...) in a previous chapter.
With this in mind, several things immediately broadside me.
The first is that while military hospitals ARE staffed with medical doctors who have taken the "oath" to do no harm...
Those same hospitals are also staffed with doctors who are researchers and not physicians but have the same background training and, in many cases, also perform psychological evaluations and, many times, guidance to the physicians in such a manner that those physicians are not aware of the harm being performed... Don't let the left hand know what the right hand is doing.
As such, we have essentially two separate groups involved in the Mike/Beth recovery with only one (the military mindset) seeing the entire picture.
The questions now become, who is guiding the military portion and what is their objective? Of course that could be outside the realm of the story and for all practical purposes we are only seeing a small portion of a much larger overall picture.
If this is true then this is an "experiment" of some kind preparatory to other events outside the scope of the story and all we get to see is poor Mike/Beth/Michelle and His/Her reactions to the events directing that path. That the mother appears to also have been processed through the "hypnosis" would lend credence to the military applications.
I would like to know what part in this picture Mr. Coffee-breath plays and how he interplays with Frau Doktor F.
Having been in and through the military and several civilian agencies which may as well have been military... I tend to suspect everyone and trust no one.
Time will tell how this is going to play out, but I think whenever I might be close to either Coffee-breath or Doc F. I will have my hand on my 9mm. just as a precaution mind you. It's not that I'm paranoid or anything... Much..
God Bless You All...
P.S. I forgot to mention, I won't drink anything they might offer me either...
Half a lifetime in the hands of Psych people.
I turned 62 today and looking back I have spent much of the time since I was in my mid 20's in the "Tender Loving Hands" of psych people. I don't trust any of them any more. They tell you one thing but write something else in your chart. They seem to have created the idea of "Hidden Agendas".
I was brainwashed in an extremely damaging way by my step father, and later by the Fundi Christian Church. People always want to control you. It seems that the harder you try to advocate for yourself, the more they treat you like you are a nut case.
I have never seen brain washing to the extent that poor Beth has experienced, but I can say that it does not exist. If they beat you enough, anyone will do what ever they have to to make it stop.
Gwendolyn
Wow! More Great Comments
I really am happy I didn't block comments on this story. I suspected that people would feel strongly about this story so I enabled comments. Thanks so much for all the nice comments.
It looks like you've all caught most of the relevant points (including comments over the first 4 parts). Now you'll just have to see how it all plays out. There's still a long way to go so hang on.
- Terry
Story really takes off
Wasn't too sure about this story and left it for a few days. Now that Michelle is around and total annihilation of personality has not occurred I am much more comfortable with the story. Really like whole Michelle concept and all the rambunctiousness there. Also all the possibilities, problems and scrapes they can get into. Hope there is personality integration and Beth becomes much more Michelle than she is now, including the lesbianism. That would be a welcome change from the usual story plots we see, and makes a lot more sense.
This has turned into a great story.
Hugs, Kristi
Kristi Lynne Fitzpatrick