Remember Me

Chapter Four

The final two weeks of school pass by in a blur like the hazy interlude before an impending storm. Under normal circumstances, I would be buried in textbooks, tirelessly preparing for finals. My focus would be solely on school, my head down, pencil dancing across the paper. But this year, the school has granted me an exemption from the exams, given my situation. As a result, the last days of school feel strangely mundane.

With my friends engrossed in their own studies, their availability dwindles. I find myself seeking alternative ways to fill my time, searching for solace amidst the void. Fortunately, Rachel is still there for me, a constant source of companionship and support. Yet, as the weeks unfold, my mother's protectiveness grows alarmingly intense. The once-empty refrigerator door now bears a list of rules that I must abide by; home by five o'clock every day, my location must be tracked on my phone at all times, and soccer practice, a sanctuary for me, becomes a showcase for my parents, their watchful eyes never wavering.

Both my mother and I are acutely aware of the ticking clock, knowing that my time is rapidly slipping away. She yearns to savor every precious moment we have left. Surprisingly, these new rules don't annoy me as much as I anticipated. In fact, they usher in a sense of tranquility and togetherness. It's a welcome change of pace. Our once-hectic household, a whirlwind of bustling schedules and frantic pursuits, has transformed. Now, we gather around the dinner table every evening, sharing a meal and stories of our day. Afterwards, we unite in the living room, indulging in a movie or engaging in spirited game nights. It becomes our cherished routine, a bittersweet symphony of laughter and love. These moments with my family, these stolen fragments of time, are precious beyond measure. In the face of an uncertain future, we have discovered an unexpected gift—an opportunity to appreciate one another and revel in the simple joys of togetherness. And for that, I am grateful, finding solace in the midst of the storm that looms ahead. Wake up, go to school, hang out with Rachel, go home, hang out with my family and then go to sleep. This routine continues on for a few weeks before school ends for the summer.

In addition to the new rules, something that I took on myself was increasing the time I am outside. I find myself taking walks more often. Whenever I am feeling upset, angry, sad, anything negative, I will go for a walk in the forest behind my house. It soothes me. I form an immediate connection with the nature around me. Sometimes I will sit there, on a small log I claim for my own, and stare up at the sky.

Today, I am at my spot again. After getting ready for school, I quietly slip out of my house and into my safe space. I wonder if anyone notices how pretty the sky is today, how the blue is bright and soft all at once. I wonder if they see the serenity of the clouds that sail by, gently passing on toward a place the wind wishes them to reach. I wonder if they let their eyes rest upon their white tops and follow the infinite greys that blend so harmoniously with one another, almost bluish. I wonder if they, as I do, imagine them to be killer whales swimming through a clean ocean, a happy family, singing, playing. If they did, I hope they feel at least a little of what I feel, a calm sense of awe as warm as sunny rays. If so, I hope they feel a tingle in their fingers and heightened senses, the heady aroma of blooms and the subtle movement of leaves, the way light reflects from both foliage and feathers. For when I tune in to these subtle and many pleasures, these everyday wonders, nature gives to me a quiet joy, and in that moment I am as happy as any queen or king has ever been.

The last day of school passes as fast as the rest of the week went. All the juniors are invited to an assembly which discusses what to expect next year. I attend not only because it will look odd if I don't, but because there is nowhere else I can go. My parents are at work until five, all my friends are in the assembly and I don't want to walk home by myself. However my mood turns sour when the presentation begins. I hate every word that comes out of my principal's mouth. It is yet another reminder that I won't be here next year. The only people who understand are Rachel and Joshua. Every so often they will give me sympathetic smiles or looks. I appreciate it, but it still doesn't change the inevitable.