You Found Me Read online

  Sleep didn't come easily. I don't even think I went to sleep. It was that kind of sleep where you think you're awake, but every time you look at the clock, another hour has passed. About five or five- thirty, I just got up and began my day. I went through my morning routine. I moved a lot slower this morning than I usually did.

  I put my contacts in, took my meds, stripped and got in the shower. There were a few other things I do, such as brush my teeth, floss, pee. The usual things.

  The water was hot, almost painfully so. I washed my hair first (in case there isn't any hot water at the end) then washed my body. I was still moving slow, not really getting anything done, but not forgetting what I needed to do either. Then, I paused.

  The water was hurting, burning my skin. It felt...it felt good. It gave me the strangest sensation that seem to help me forget everything; helped me forget all that was going on in my life. I leaned against the wall of the shower. It felt so good and hurt so much at the same time. I could feel everything inside of me begin to calm, even for that brief moment.

  When the water got cold, I knew my shower was over. I always waited until the hot water is gone before getting out (selfish, but necessary). I stood there for a moment catching my breath. It wasn't that the shower wore me out. It was that feeling I'd never felt before. It was overwhelming. After a moment, I grabbed the towel, dried off, then got out.

  I did my hygiene thing (deodorant, cologne, and other stuff) and started getting dressed. I had them hanging up in the bathroom, which helped steam them and (sort of) warm them up. I dressed myself and smiled in the mirror (another stupid thing I do).

  I walked into my room. I grabbed my phone, wallet, keys, iPod, and backpack and went down the stairs and into the kitchen. I started the coffee maker and got my things together. I opened my laptop and started the Internet. I thought back to the night before, and couldn't really remember all that much. I guess I was just too tired or distracted last night to take my laptop upstairs. In any case, it was on the dining room table.

  As the smell of coffee grew, I checked my email. I had over thirty notifications from my Facebook. I deleted them then went to the Facebook site. Sure enough, thirty-four people had sent me messages, left posts on my wall, and other stuff saying how sorry they were for my loss. I wasn't going to reply but I wanted to see what everyone said so I could thank them if necessary.

  I closed my laptop and packed it into its case. The coffee smell was much more intense now. I poured me some into a mug. I like my coffee black. Dad liked making it as close to a latte as possible, while Mom liked it with half and half only.

  I locked the door behind me as I walked to the truck. I didn't know where I was going, but knew I needed out of the house. I got in, plugged in my iPod, and started the truck. It was loud, so Dad probably woke up. I backed out of the driveway and began driving. Hardee's opened at four, which meant the biscuits were ready and waiting. I turned onto the main highway as my stomach began growling.

  Chapter Four

  Rob felt hot. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't feel good. He couldn't get comfortable. He'd been invited to a friend's house to spend the night. Lying in the bed trying to sleep, Rob felt uneasy. His new friend was in the floor sleeping. He'd said that's where he preferred to sleep.

  They'd met the day before. Two schools, Dawson City Elementary and Jenkins Elementary had come together to have a friendly competition in the traditional “Field Day” style. Students were divided among grades to make the games more even. The events were all set on different days, that way the entire school wasn't out on the same day. Theirs had been yesterday. The grades were divided up into ten groups. Rob came from Jenkins, his friend from Dawson City.

  They'd met at the long jump. His friend was the second person to jump out of the two groups. He'd done very well, and managed to hold his own through most of the groups. When Rob came up, the boy was expecting to continue with his winning streak. Rob jumped a good six inches farther than the boy, causing an uproar of cheers and boos. The boy begged to go again and he did, but once again fell short. A small rivalry had formed and the competition had truly begun.

  Running, climbing, horseshoes, and the many other activities participated in were mere battles between the two, the war raging on. With this rivalry, a friendship was in the works.

  “Where do you live?” Rob asked. The boy had introduced himself as Jessie. No last names were exchanged (seeing as they were only in the fourth grade, such was not necessary).

  “I live on the edge of Dawson City, near Jordon's Pike.”

  Jordon's Pike was, unknown to Rob, more of a dump than anything else. The people who lived there were trailer trash, people who couldn't afford a decent home due to life or lifestyles. Jessie was an offspring of both. His mother worked day and night, his father worked days and drank at night. Life had been hard on the boy, which led to his constant struggle to achieve excellence.

  “Do you go to church?”

  “Some, but not every day.” Rob gave a curious look. “Some churches require you to go every day?”

  “Oh yeah, lots of 'em. We just don't go every day. Sometimes we go on Sundays and Wednesday, but that's it.” Rob found this interesting. It'd never occurred to him that church could be optional or that sometimes it was held every day. Maybe his church went on every day and he just didn't realize it. He'd have to ask his Mom and Dad.

  “You got any brothers or sisters?”

  “One brother. He's in the 8th grade. He's pretty old. You?” Rob shook his head. “You ain't missin' much.”

  They talked through lunch and for the rest of the day. Their rivalry was still going strong, but their friendship had developed more so. At the end of the day, the results were read. Neither had placed in any of the categories. On their own records, Rob had beaten Jessie at more than half of the events, to which Jessie had a readily made excuse as to why he lost.

  “Hey, you should spend the night at my house tonight!”

  “It's a school night, though,” Rob quickly pointed out.

  “Oh yeah, that's right. How about tomorrow night? It'll be Friday so we won't hafta worry about school and all that.”

  “I'll ask my folks and see what they say.”

  Rob's parents weren't very enthusiastic about this. Rob wanted to go and spend the night with someone he barely knew. It just shot up way too many red flags for them. They didn't know the boy, didn't know his family, didn't know anything about him except that “he's alotta fun” Rob told them. They spent some time deciding on whether he should go or not.

  “Rob, we really don't like this,” his mother told him, “but we've decided to let you go and spend the night.” Rob perked up. He'd already packed expecting them to give the “okay” to go. It was daring, but he could easily recover if necessary.

  “Thank you,” he cheered.

  “Now Rob, we're not done.” He stopped.

  “Rob,” his dad started, “just because we said it's okay doesn't mean we're okay with it. If you have any trouble, you let us know.” He nodded. He knew he wouldn't have to call, he never did. It was the usual line they always gave him. “If you have any trouble, you let us know.” They'd gotten him a cellphone for his birthday for cases such as this. If he needed anything, he could call them. Tonight, for the first time, he was going to call them for help.

  Rob got up quietly and walked to the bathroom. It wasn't that far from the room, just down the hall. Rob had his cellphone in his hand. It was small, blue, no camera and very little texting abilities. But it could call other phones, which was enough for him. He dialed his mother and waited for the voice.

  “Hello?” he heard. He'd woke her up, which he expected. It was almost 2am.

  “Mom?”

  “What's wrong?” Her voice had gotten stronger, more alert. “I dunno. I just don't feel right. Something's wrong. Can you come get me?”

  “I'll be right there.” Then came the hard part for him. He needed to wake Jessie up and tell him what was
going on. Something that would convince Jessie he had to go home, but not offend him. “Your house just feels funny” certainly wouldn't work.

  “Jessie?” No response.

  “Jessie.” Some stirring, but still no response.

  “Jessie.” This time, Jessie opened his eyes and blinked a few times. He knew his name had been called, just not by who.

  “Rob?” he said sluggishly.

  “Yeah.”

  “What's up?”

  “I'm not feeling too good. I called my Mom and she's on her way.”

  “What's wrong? Did you get sick?”

  “A little,” Rob lied,” I don't know what it could be.” Jessie was up and moving now. He was half asleep, but up and moving.

  Rob's Mom had dropped him off at the small mobile home. The place looked decent, so his mother wasn't as terribly worried as she'd been earlier. “Just concerned” as she always put it. Now, as she pulled up to the home, her opinion had changed drastically. There were people leaning up against the home, two or three stray dogs in the yard, four cats (that she could see) laying on their car, and a strange looking man next door smoking something (which she assumed was a cigarette) and watching her very carefully.

  Rob had kept an eye out for her. After what seemed like forever, she drove up. He thanked Jessie and apologized for having to leave. Jessie said it was fine and they could hang out some other time. Rob ran and got in the van and started crying.

  “It's okay,” his Mom said. “We're going home.” She told him all the things she saw around the trailer and was proud of him for making the right decision. They started home, neither saying a word.

  Chapter Five

  School was hard. Classes weren't canceled today so I went about my usual routine today. Well, almost. Today I was quiet. I didn't say anything in class (which was unusual since I'm the class clown). I avoided my friends and just did what needed be done.

  It was pretty hard. I had roughly thirty minutes between classes and today (of all days) my classes ended at 1:30. I started to go to Jason's to eat, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I went to Sonic and ordered some random ice cream thing they made. I was in a numbing daze.

  I thought about Mom while I was there. We were supposed to make funeral arrangements today. The whole family lives around us, so it wasn't going to take much to get them together. The funeral would be tomorrow. Dad was at home right now finishing the plans and all the forms for Mom. I didn't want to participate and, God willing, wasn't going to no matter what they said. I could barely bring myself to go (let alone do something).

  My cellphone started vibrating. It was a UAH number, though I didn't recognize it. I answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Rob?” The voice didn't sound familiar at all. I was sure someone had the wrong number, but then again they did know my name.

  “Yeah. Um, who is this?”

  “My name is Terri Madison. I work at UAH.” I still had no idea who it was. I'm sure she was telling the truth since there was no point in her lying to me.

  “Oh yeah, I think I've met you once or twice,” I lied. “What can I do for you?” This was more out of being polite than honest. I didn't want to do anything for her.

  “Would you mind swinging by my office today? I'm at Student Affairs.” I agreed and hung up. I hate trick questions. “Would you mind?” Duh, of course I would, but just for you I'm going to lie and say I'll show up. My day was getting worse, not that I expected it to get much better with everything I was going to run into at home.

  I started my truck and headed back to school. I was half finished with my ice cream thingy, so I wasn't being interrupted.

  Everyone knows where Student Affairs is. It's the place you go to complain and be ignored.

  “I'm here to see Mrs. Madison.” The lady smiled and led me to her office. I could've gone there by myself, but the lady seemed determined to take me. I saw no point in objecting and causing more trouble for myself.

  Terri Madison looked like a nice enough lady. She had a voice that was calm and quiet, yet commanding and forceful (a hard one to describe unless you actually know someone like that). She welcomed me in and sat me down. Her face did look familiar, which probably mean we passed each other going down the hall or something like that.

  “I heard about your loss. I'm so sorry.” I'd expected this. It had barely been two days and I was already tired of people apologizing. “Thank you” was all I could ever manage.

  “I'm worried about how this will affect you. I've watched plenty of students start failing school and their ambition fall after losing someone they loved.” Someone they loved. It was all I could do not to cry, but I managed.

  “I've called and made an appointment with Dr. O'Nassis. He's a psychiatrist here in Huntsville. He's a personal friend of mine and a very accomplished doctor, not to mention a good person. The appointment is in about four days. Since tomorrow is the funeral, I thought you could use a day off or two before seeing him.” I would've thanked her, but I was a little upset at the moment. For some reason, she was working behind my back. “Here's the number and address.” I thanked her and left. I wondered, though. Why would she do this for me?

  I didn't have anything better to do, so I went home. The drive grew longer with every minute that passed. I'd gotten several text messages from friends wanting to hang out or get something to eat and take my mind off of things, but I didn't want to. I wasn't in the mood. Normally I would sing along with my iPod, but I couldn't find anything inside of me to do that. Today wasn't working out for me.

  I got home to find the driveway full of cars. My space was still open, but blocked by most of the cars. I tried to figure out how to get to my spot without hitting all the cars. I gave up and parked in the front yard. I turned the truck off and collected my thoughts. I was going to walk in, say hi to anyone I had to, and go to my room. I might even skip supper. I couldn't handle all that attention. I popped my knuckles (a nervous habit of mine) and walked to the door, ready for whatever I was forced to endure.

  There was a big group around the table. Most of them were friends and family. I could tell they'd been crying. It was pretty obvious judging by the strange looks they all had on their faces. I gave a fake smile, knowing it wasn't worth the effort. “When in doubt,” Mom once said, “just smile and nod.”

  “Hey, Rob,” my Dad said. I nodded and made my way to my room. “Hey, hold on, Rob.” I hadn't made it very far or apparent that I wanted to be left alone.

  “What's up?” I asked as cheerfully as I could.

  “Rob, you...You wanna help us? I mean, we want you to write a poem for Mom or something. Nothing too fancy or anything like that. Just something...special.” I really didn't know what to say. I honestly didn't want to do it. I wanted to go just to be there. Not really for her, for Dad, or even me. Just to be there.

  “I dunno if I can think of anything to write by then.”

  “All I'm asking is that you try. I'm not expecting the greatest thing in the history of literature,” he said with a light laugh. “I just want you to try.” I shrugged.

  “I suppose I could.” He got up from the table and walked over to me.

  “Rob,” he tried to say in a comforting voice. “I know it's hard. It's hard on all of us. I know what you're going through.”

  “No you don't,” I said rather forcefully. “You don't know what I'm going through. I'm going through a lot more than you realize.”

  “I'm sure you are. But we're in this toge-”

  “Don't say that.” I don't know where that came from. “We're not in this together. You don't know what I'm going through. You don't.”

  “Rob, you're gonna need to work with me.”

  “Why? You're not working with me. I'm going through all of this on my own!”

  “Don't raise your voice to me.”

  “Why shouldn't I? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?”

  “Because I'm your father.”

  “And she was m
y mother. I figure I have a choice in what I can and cannot do.”

  “Not as long as you live under our roof.”

  “Who is 'our'? Me and you? That's all that's left.”

  “Watch your mouth!”

  “No! This is just you and me now. She's dead!”

  “I know she is.”

  “Then act like it!” His hand came hard across my face. I wasn't bleeding. I didn't hit him back. I didn't cry. I just stood there. My face was stinging, more or less a burning sensation.

  “Finished?” I asked, then headed to my room. I'm sure he felt bad, for striking me and doing it in front of company, but I didn't care. He'd hurt me, so I returned the favor.

  I stripped and got in bed. It was almost seven, but I was tired. Plus, there were people out there I was sure wouldn't leave anytime soon.

  I lay in my bed and just stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. It was dark. I wanted to go to sleep, but it wasn't happening. I was so tired, so sad.

  Why was everyone so determined to make this a big deal? She never wanted a funeral. She always wanted to be cremated and that be that. I don't remember her ever wanting a funeral. She may have changed her mind at the last second, which would be just like her.

  Maybe it's for everyone else's benefit. That way they can feel better about what they're doing and be able to “let go.” I don't wanna let go. I don't wanna let go. Even after all that had happened, I didn't wanna let go.

  Sleep never came. I was stuck between being wide awake and being sound asleep. Like I could go to sleep, like I wanted to go to sleep, but I just couldn't. It was strange, the strangest thing. My thoughts raced heavily, making me feel anxious.

  All I could think about was Mom. I had trouble believing it. I had trouble doing things. I felt like I could do almost anything, but just couldn't. It's a hard thing to describe. I felt I was living outside my body.

  It's like trying to move, but you're constrained. Stuck in a moment you wish never existed. Those moments defined my life for the longest time.