RETURN TO SHORT WORKS
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

Some Closure, Please
 
Text Box: It was almost 4pm and the rush of commuters scrambling to catch their train home to their families made her dizzy, and the blaring over the loudspeakers confused her even more. Her tea slipped from her shaking hands and crashed to the floor making a puddle around her feet. Her senses were screaming at her, and everywhere she looked was a strange face. The events of the past year came hurtling at her: her mom being strong for the family, her friends not knowing what to say to ease her pain, Dr. Gilbert’s earnest face trying to help her find her way out of the darkness she now lived in, and her dad. He was dead and the realization that she truly was alone brought tears to her eyes for the very first time. In the middle of Grand Central, she sat down in her spilled tea and sobbed uncontrollably. It felt like hours, but merely minutes had passed when she felt a presence hovering above her. His mouth was moving and he was saying her name. She didn’t recognize him at first but then she saw the Harry Potter like scar on his forehead, and he was lifting her from the puddle and wrapping his arms around her. She reached for him hoping to find solace, some temporary reprieve from the pain that ached in her heart. She wanted him to be her Daddy coming back from the dead. Maybe his spirit had somehow found its way into the heart of this stranger he had saved, and in his eyes she would find some final message from her daddy. Maybe this stranger could recount her daddy’s last hour before he took his last breath, and he had given him a message to give her. He picked up her school bag and picked up the empty cup of tea. Together they walked and talked getting lost in the maze of people on their way home after a long day of work. Dean Jean-Pierre 12-27-05 26pm
Text Box: She had been dreading this day since forever, and now that it was almost here she was filled with a mixture of sadness, anger, melancholy and any other emotions that could surmise how she was feeling at this moment. Her therapist’s mantra had been that not knowing is never the answer, and the only way to move on with her life was to face this head on and slay the dragon. The first time Dr. Gilbert said it to her, a look of confusion was etched on her face. And now as she thought about it, a smile crossed her face and calmed her anxiety. She had taken the Metro North train from White Plains into Grand Central, and was there a full hour before their scheduled meeting. Every time she had come into the city was with her mom to go school shopping or catch a Broadway play. The city frightened her especially after 911. Standing here lost in the crowd at Grand Central she felt and looked every bit her age. Still wearing her high school uniform, plaid blue skirt and a white blouse she looked around and found what she was looking for, Starbucks. A Grande cup of Tazo Honeybush might calm her nerves as she waited for him to appear. Inside of Grand Central reminded her of a cathedral when she looked skywards and all the lights shone down on her. She felt lost, again. Strangers in a hurry to catch their trains walked quickly by her, and probably weren’t concerned why a girl of fifteen would be here at 3pm instead of at school or home. A few men gave her the once over, and she knew what they were thinking. They were always thinking it these days when they saw her, and would pretend to smile at her. Their eyes always gave them away as they would stare at her chest, and continue leering as she walked away. She wasn’t as yet comfortable in this new body that developed over the summer, and had given her bigger breasts than all of her classmates. They kind of now looked up to her which was sort of cool, but now the boys in her classes made rude remarks Text Box: about what they wanted to do to her. She especially hated taking gym class now because she felt particularly naked in those red gym hooker shorts and white t-shirt. It was like being on display on a runway for everyone to ogle at your body when all you wanted to do was hide it under layers and layers of clothing. She was always happy when her period came so she could wiggle her way out of gym. Mr. Kincaid didn’t want to deal with “her woman problems” so he gladly excused her. Today was one of those days and it made it easy for her to ditch her last class. Living in New York it was hard to escape the memory of that fateful day when lives would be forever changed. The horror of watching your city caught in hell, and knowing that your dad would probably be one of the first firemen into the building. No one had to tell her that he died. She felt when his spirit left. Everyone said that her dad was a hero. The newspapers had called him "the best of the best" for his heroism in saving over fifty lives during 911. All the survivors had written her family letters effusive in their praise for her father's bravery, and were thankful for another day they would get to spend with their families. But, she had lost not only her dad but also her best friend. A cloud hung around her heart and she retreated into her mind unable to function in school. So she took an extended "vacation" and started seeing Dr. Gilbert. Everyone thought she was crazy, and as the months dragged on her friends forgot to call or email. When they saw her at the mall with her mom they would quickly go the other way or walk by and avoid eye contact. She wasn't crazy. She just missed dad more than she ever thought possible. He was the one person who understood her moods, and knew what to say to get her to smile. She hadn't smiled in almost a year now. She imagined that her facial muscles would be so out of practice that the next time a smile graced her face it would feel like a paralyzed person learning to walk again.