The Beginning To Closure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
The morning of a stressfull girl.

Submitted: November 04, 2011

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Submitted: November 04, 2011

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"We need to talk," she sends the message; a string of nervous fear courses through her. A tear rolls down her cheek, she pulls the blanket up higher around her, attempting not to jostle her sleeping friend. The silence in the room is tangible; any of the slightest movement wouldrepresent an explosion of sound.

Next to the girl buried in blankets, her friend moves, snuggling closer tothe buried one. She wraps her arm around her waist, and rests her cheek on the buried shoulder. Even though she is sleeping, she knows, she feels the disturbance within the feeling of her friend. It may seem odd, the usually affectionate gesture causing comfort instead of being used as a possessive over a loved one, but that is how their friendship works; two unlikely people joined in a relationship as friends, almost sisters, and even in the subconscious state, the effects of a mood shift are still felt.

The silence is sliced with a knife. Danielle's phone buzzes, and her heart grows heavy. Her eyes are already closed, but she seals them tighter by force. "Breathe in.... Breathe out..." she tells herself. Uncovering her hands, she recovers her phone from its hiding place under the pillow. She repeats her inner mantra one more time. Eyes open, they scorn the light of the cellular device, they squint in response.

The half opened eyes scan what looks like an alien lettering on the screen that is illuminated before her. Blinking, her eyes focus on the strange shapes, it's English.

"Ok, what's up?" was all the message says. After rereading the words of the message, a bit of resentment tugs at her heart. This was a bad idea, Danielle hasn't spoken with her father in 5 months, and now she chooses to speak up and be heard. Good or bad, this was happening.

"I just want to know," she began, the touch screen responding to the rapidly moving fingers, "if you're proud of me... Or even if you resent me. I feel like I'm being robbed of a father; that I'm being denied my right to a parental figure who claimed me legally as flesh and blood. I want to fix this mangled relationship. I'm putting myself out here, and I'm fully expecting to be shot down, and turned away."

The silence, again, is tangible.

Danielle's friend stirs, and turns over, falling back asleep.

The friend sharing the bed with Danielle, is Jenn. She is the polar opposite of Danielle, and that isprobably why they're friends. They always argue however, and over childish things. These two girls understand how the other thinks to a very little degree. One of them always plays up the thoughts of the other, and causes the next issue. It will be the onlyantecedent of the foreclosing of the friendship.

The phone alerts again. Danielle never let it out of her hand; the silence is still kept.

"Of course I'm proud of you. I'm just bitter from what passed between your mother and I. I need some time to forgive you for how you chose sides. I will text you once I feel like we can solve this issue," Danielle's narcissistic father is just as foolish as she remembered.

She didn't bother hiding her tears, hiding them will make her shake and breathe heavy from the effort. Lolling to one side, and folding herself into the fetal position, she hugs herself; she hides herself. "I will not waste my precious time on this ignoramus. I am above low blows. I will send off my peace."

"I see, then I will wait for the day when you can accept the fact that I fought for what should be willing given in support of the only child you care(d) for," the acid tone of regret and sadness tinge this message response, and Danielle finds peace within it.

The sun now peaks through the broken blinds, and stares Danielle down. Dry tears makes her face feel taunt, a feeling she has welcomed into her life as an often occurrence. The challenge of rising from the small twin bed without waking Jenn is a task Danielle has mastered.

Covers are slowly peeled back from Danielle's over-heating body, then placed gently, silently, next to her to press against Jenn's back. Danielle sits up, distributing her weight carefully, and avoiding the creaky spots in the cushioned, worn, bed. Once sitting up, and in the crisscross position, she maneuvers herself onto her hands and knees. Now by Jenn's feet. Her feet are quite pronounced under the thin, summer blanket; they are easily avoided as Danielle clambers from the confines against the wall-side of the bed. Now she stands and stretches, her muscles tight in refusal to being beckoned to movement in the morning.

White and black sparkles dance in through her vision, filling the sight within seconds. Hands search for something to grasp and hang onto. They find nothing. Her head is spinning, and white noise sounds in her ears. her feet don't move, but she is rocking in all directions.

Her eyes begin to clear, and her whitis returned to her. She must've stood too fast, she does this often. Breathing hard, yet quietly, she makes her way to the bathroom, and washes her face with ice cold water. The morning worries are as if they never happened.


© Copyright 2020 Mookey623. All rights reserved.

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