Troubled, Crazy, or Something else? - By: Chanel G. Ashmon, and Ellie A. Willson (books for 9th graders txt) 📗

I stood there, wishing my father could be there. But on the other hand I was glad he was up there, waiting to welcome her to her new “life”. I couldn’t help feeling a little selfish by wanting him to be here to comfort me instead of there. Although, I guess he deserves to have a little bit of paradise after watching me screw up for the past ten years.
My eyes narrowed as Aunt Susan sobbed loudly from behind me. Jeez, can’t I mourn in peace for one minute? I felt like every moment someone who didn’t understand was telling me how they felt my pain, and someone who barely knew her was weeping like a two-year-old. I was her daughter. Me. I was the one who’s life had been turned upside down, the one who’d been left to pick up the pieces and act mature for the second time in only sixteen years. And I felt like it was my responsibility to my dad to be strong and grown up. And now I guess for her too. Except what nobody can see is that deep down I’m still just a child.
I know, it’s appalling. How can I view myself as a kid when I’m almost legally an adult? Could it have something to do with the fact that my childhood ended at nine, when my dad was diagnosed with cancer? Probably.
I watched the bored looking worker guys lower what was just another casket to them into a hole while a priest droned on and on about how everything happened for a reason and how she will go on to a better life. All I could think was how there was no way that life could be better without me in it. I know it sounds snotty, but my mother loved me more than anything, except for maybe my father. Who loved me more than anything but my mom.
And now they’re both gone.
Yay me.
The priest handed me a shovel to throw the first clump of dirt in. The first clump of the pile that would trap my mother underground. The last time I had done this, my mother had held it with me and whispered to me that the body wasn’t my father, my father was all around me, and especially in my heart. And he still is, I can still hear his voice sometimes, calling me Lily-bear. Now my mothers carefree laughter that had become so rare joins him. Which is nice. I loved her laugh.
So I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, picturing my father holding the shovel with me, and threw the dirt in. I knew I was supposed to step back, but I didn’t want to leave my mother’s side. I turned and handed the shovel to my step-dad anyway. Then I watched silently as he threw the dirt in indifferently. Aunt Susie followed, then Uncle Ken, Cousin May, Cousin Gary, and so on, getting me more and more upset. These were the relatives who were too lazy to visit on thanksgiving, the old friends who forgot to call on birthdays, and that terrible step-dad, Ray, who bossed her around and never treated her with the love and respect my father had.
I guess I wasn’t as mature as I thought because all the sadness turned into anger when I saw Mr. Brown, my nosy neighbor, grab the shovel. Mr. Brown who looked through our windows, and tried to get our dog sent back to the pound.
“Sit back down!” I shouted, yanking the shovel from his hands. Everyone in the room stared, shocked, but I ignored them. “This is my mothers funeral, do you understand that word? It means a service for the people close to her to mourn her death. Did you love my mother?” I yelled as he just open and closed his mouth soundlessly. I wasn’t looking for an answer anyway and he knew it. “No you didn’t. You threatened to sue her for every little thing and creeped around our house. Do you even know her middle name? You don’t. You don’t even know the kind of flower that makes her smile when she’s crying, or how she loves to paint people’s nails, or her dream of writing a book, or-”
My Aunt Susan rushed over, “Honey, it’s okay, we understand how you feel, but-”
“NO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!! How could you possibly understand what it feels like to lose the two most special people in your life? You’re not her daughter!” My voice cracked, tears flowing down my face, and I turned and ran into the forest.
Everyone stared, motionless, except for one. My step-dad's eyes narrowed, but he stood still.

I sprinted as fast as I could, finally letting out the tears that had stung my eyes for the past week, since I saw my mom lying motionless in the passenger’s seat across from me. Ray and I had avoided serious injury because the trucker had been on the right side when he crashed into us.
My tears blurred my vision, and just as I was thinking that maybe continuing to run was a bad idea, I ran into a tree.
I clutched my head in my hands and fell to my knees, sobbing to hard to curse. I leaned against the violent tree and stared at my hands, seeing through the tears the red blood from my head. My shoulders sagged in defeat, and I dropped my hands, ready to let myself bleed to death.
“Lilli?”
Guess that wasn’t happening.
“Lillian! You’re bleeding! What happened?”
Jake rushed over to moi me, ripped the bottom of his shirt, and pressed it against my head.
“No Jake,” I said, pushing his hand away, “Just let it”.
“Are you crazy??” He pushed my hand down forcefully and put the cloth back against my forehead.
Then Jake moved to put his arm around me, and waited silently while I cried.
After a while I quieted down, and Jake turned to look at me. “Lilli, I’m not going to pretend I understand how you’re feeling, and I’m not going to try and tell you it’s okay, but I will tell you that you’re not alone. I’m here for you, and I will be here whenever you need me.”
I stared, touched at his sweetness. 0nly now do I know that it was a lie. I sniffed, and wiped my eyes. It was the only non-idiotic thing anyone had said to me about my mother.
“Are you ready to go back?”
I took a deep, slightly shaky breath and nodded. Jake stood and held his hand out to me. I took it. He held me steady until my legs felt stronger, and then gave me a small reassuring smile. I surprised myself by returning it. Then I squared my shoulders and hand in hand we turned to walk back to the waiting crowd.

Turns out they weren’t waiting. Most of them had already gone home. Ray had been waiting grumpily, and the second he saw me he marched over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me away from Jake to the car.
Great. I thought as I sat in the backseat. Home with Ray. Weee.
See, me and Ray didn’t exactly ‘get along’. At all. Plus he hated my boyfriend, Jake, with a red hot passion. If he had his way I’d be in a convent and Jake would be fighting in the army, which was Ray’s idea of a proper profession, but yet he’s an accountant. When the subject was brought up he always said some bullshit about a poor heart and how he was prone to heart attacks. So why wasn’t he the one who died?
“You ’re a real drama queen y’know. Making a big show and trying to get everyone to feel sorry for you and come look for you in the woods. You had made such a scene and embarrassed me, and I had to insist everyone go home and not worry about you.”
That explains it I thought. The jackass told them all to forget about me. Thank goodness Jake ignored him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not meaning it at all. But I figured if I didn’t say something he could have just kept going on all day about how terrible I was. So I endured the ride in silence.


I checked the clock for the billionth time. Yes midnight finally! I jumped out of bed, and tip-toed out of my room and across the hall. I pressed my ear against Ray’s door to hear his heavy snores. Cautiously, I made my way to the window in the bathroom, and down the escape tree. It had wooden rungs from the old tree-house my father had built. Ray had taken it down, complaining that it ‘blocked his view’. His view out of the bathroom window. Fortunately, he was lazy and hadn’t taken the time to take down all of it, so the ladder up and a few stray boards remained and were very useful.
I met Jake at the bottom of the tree, and after a quick hug we silently moved away from the house, getting as far away as possible.
In other words, the river along Beach Street.

“So, how are you holding up?” Jake asked once we were far enough away from all the houses.
“0h, Jakey,” I flung myself into his embrace, and he held me tight, rubbing my back gently, “I feel like I’m falling apart”.
“At least you’re not a chicken, they get their heads cut off,” He said flatly. I laughed, sounding strange and hoarse after being so out of practice. He smiled at me, “There’s that laugh I love,” and then he whispered in my hear softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll put all your pieces together again,” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek.
In his arms I really felt okay. I felt as if he was holding me together. Although my face was buried in his red and white plaid button-up shirt, I knew his deep brown eyes were staring, loving and worried, down at me. I pulled away a little, so that I could kiss him. He cupped my chin in his palm, gently tilting my face up towards his, placing his other hand on the small of my back. I ran my fingers through his messy short brown hair, and tasted the cinnamon flavor of his lips as we kissed passionately under the faint glow of the moon.
After a while, he pulled away just slightly, his lips still brushing mine as he spoke, “I love you so much Lilli”.
I gazed up at him, searching his gorgeous eyes for…I don’t know.
“Jake…I can’t. I just can’t let myself love again right now. The two people in the world I’ve loved the most…are