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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Catriona
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 | Once Upon a Summer Vacation |
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 4 with 2 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-11-07 11:40:17 |
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A faint breeze stirred the leaves of the beech trees in my front yard. The porch swing, which would normally have at least two people sitting on it on such a beautiful day, swung almost restlessly in the gentle wind. I didn’t notice any of it. I just sat on the edge of my giant, four-poster bed, occasionally trailing my fingers down the long white scar on my left arm.
Anna was leaving forever. Well, she had actually been gone for three weeks already. But today, the last of the books she read and the clothes she wore and the toys she used to play with were being dumped into boxes and put into a moving van. Tomorrow, the only thing left of her in the small, grey-painted house would be memories. There…the closet we used to hide in. There…the window we used to count the stars at. There…the tree we used to sit under and decide what our futures would hold. So many memories, but no proof, nothing to say I hadn’t just dreamed all of it.
The last three weeks had felt like a dream, even more so than the three weeks before had. Every night when I fell asleep, I’d dream that I was just another fourteen-year old enjoying summer vacation. When I woke up and remembered Anna, the scar on my arm, and the moving van in the street in front of her house, for a moment I’d wonder which one was the real dream. Was I happy and only imagining myself living in sadness? Was I really going through the anguish of the past six weeks and dreaming of how my life might otherwise have been?
Sometimes, in the three weeks Anna had been gone, Jen came over. Not often because, even though her house was only a few houses up the street, she hadn’t recovered as fast as Mom said I had and even a short walk could be exhausting for her. The two of us would sit in my bed, sometime talking softly, but usually sitting there silently. After a while, Jen would pick up her crutches and limp to the front door. I’d follow her, standing on the front porch until she had disappeared into her house. Then I’d glance at the porch swing, sigh quietly, and head back inside to sit in my room, alone. Today though, my room felt breathless and oppressive, so I went downstairs.
Normally, our house would be full of clamor and activity. Five people, two of them boys under seventeen, can create a lot of noise. Usually Kyle, my twelve-year old brother, would be watching TV or messing around with Elliot, my sixteen-year old brother. My mom would be talking on the phone or cleaning up around the house, and my dad, if he wasn’t at work, would be listening to a baseball game on his computer or helping Mom clean the house. It’s strange that I never noticed how loud it was until it was silent.
“Kyle, give it back!”
I went into the kitchen, where Elliot was chasing Kyle, who had taken Elliot’s cell phone. He chattered as he ran. “No, sorry, Elliot is not available at the moment. Please leave a message and I’ll have him get back to you. By the way—Natasha, wasn’t it?—what’s your favorite color? Burgundy? How very interesting. How about your favorite food?” Elliot finally caught up with Kyle and wrestled the phone out of his hand.
“Natasha? Sorry, my brother took my phone. Where were we? Oh yeah, Friday night. Let’s see…” He wandered upstairs to the room that he shared with Kyle.
“Man, can you believe that?” Kyle complained. “We really had a connection there, you know? Then he just has to go and…”
“Whatever, Ky,” I said quietly. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of soda.
“Hey, sweetie.” My mom had come into the kitchen. She put her hand in my shoulder and pulled me close. “You’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living?”
I shrugged. “Just thirsty.”
“Alright. Mrs. Morris and Abby will be over later to say goodbye. I’ll call you down when they get here.” I nodded in acknowledgement, then took my soda to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sipping my drink, I leaned back and closed my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept dreamlessly.
My name is Catriona Joel Kelly. I am fifteen years old and about to start tenth grade. I have wavy brown hair and grayish-green eyes. My name, like my brother Kyle’s, is Gaelic. My father chose our names. His family immigrated to America from Ireland when he was seventeen. Everyone says I sound Irish when I talk.
Kyle is almost exactly two years younger than me. My birthday is May twenty-eighth, his is June sixth. He has sandy blonde hair, brown eyes, and freckles dotting his cheeks, like our mother. He’s really cute, in a little kid way.
Elliot, my older brother, is about thirty months older than me. His birthday is November fifteenth. He has a date with a different girl every other week. He has red hair, like my dad’s mother, and brown eyes. He plays guitar in a band with his friends, he skateboards, and he’s on the basketball team at our high school.
Jen is one of my best friends. Well, now she IS my best friend. Her full name is Jennifer Min-Jee Chen. She lives with her Korean mother and step-father, and her two little half-siblings, Nichole and Bae, who are six year old twins. She is a month older than me, and she has beautiful long black hair and dark brown eyes. We’ve known each other since the summer before sixth grade, when she moved into the house across the street from Ana.
Analee Teresa Morris was my best friend for nine years. We met on the first day of first grade, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Almost. She had the most beautiful honey blonde hair in the world, and stunning, sparkling blue eyes. Her birthday was only a week before mine, so we had no fewer than four double birthday parties. Her mom and dad loved me like another daughter, and her little sister, Abby, said several times that I was a better sister than Ana. But I don’t think anyone could be better than Ana. She was smart, funny, sweet, athletic, random, tough, nice…just all around perfect. The longest fight we ever had lasted almost an entire week. She knew me better than my own family ever had. There were no secrets we kept from each other, from bad grades to crushes to my brother’s relationships to her uncle getting arrested from a DUI. I absolutely loved her. Not romantically loved, of course, but loved like a sister.
And then, only a month after ninth grade ended, she was just…gone.
Jen’s mother had taken Jen, Ana, and I to a movie the week after school was over. While Mrs. Chen was driving us home, we were just goofing off. Ana was singing songs from the FreeCreditReport.com commercials, Jens was throwing popcorn at her, and I was throwing gummy bears at the both of them. Only a block away from our neighborhood, we were stopped at a red light. As we waited for the light to change, a black SUV came flying around the corner, at something like 60 mph. Mrs. Chen swore in Korean (Jen’s taught me several Korean curse words over the years) and tried to avoid the speeding car. She wasn’t able to dodge it, and the front of the SUV drove into the right side of the minivan.
Suddenly, everything was noise and shattering glass. Jen was screaming. Her leg had gotten stuck under the passenger door, which had been dented in. Mrs. Chen had been hit by shards of glass from the smashed windows and she was shouting for Jen. Ana’s door had also been pushed inward, and it had apparently hit her hard. Blood drenched her hair, her clothes, and her seat. Her eyes were shut, and she almost looked asleep. I ignored the gaping cut on my arm made by a piece of glass and was shouting Ana’s name. I wasn’t aware of the sirens as the ambulance arrived. I wasn’t aware of the paramedics carefully pulling open the car door behind me. I wasn’t aware of the paramedics pulling me out of the seat and strapping me to a gurney. I just knew that I couldn’t stop saying Ana’s name. Even as I faded into unconsciousness, I whispered her name. “Ana…” |
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