Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning

A Story by J. Alicia
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a short story!

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Sunday Morning
Isabelle shifted uncomfortably in the green Naugahyde booth she sat in at the small bustling diner. The waxy material groaned in protest to her restless movements. She sighed and looked down at the greasy fake wood of the small table in front of her, tracing the monotonous swirled pattern with her pinky idly. Sadie sat across from her, pasty faced as always. She didn’t move as she stared down at the glistening pink doughnut, speckled with a splash of cheerful blue sprinkles that sat untouched on a plate in front of her.
“Sadie, you know it kind of defeats the purpose of doughnut Sunday if you don’t even have one,” Isabelle said at last, desperate to break the thickening silence that swelled between them.
Isabelle tried to reach Sadie with her eyes, but Sadie’s gaze did not budge from the adorned confection in front of her.
“I had a big breakfast,” she murmured almost incoherently.
Isabelle pursed her lips. This was going nowhere. She knew that would be her response. Sadie had been eating “big breakfasts” a lot lately. Isabelle looked down at her own plate; empty besides a few crumbs and a scatter of blue sprinkles, and frowned at the ruin of their Sunday morning tradition. They had been coming here every week for doughnuts since grade school. It was their ritual.
“C’mon Sadie, it’s just one doughnut! I got your favorite kind! Pink, remember?”
Sadie looked up, her small face frozen in a porcelain mask.
“No thanks. I’m not hungry, Bells.”
Isabelle looked at Sadie and frowned at her wasted features; her pale sunken cheeks, her bloodless lips, the deep shadows beneath her vacant eyes as they stared unseeing down at her plate once more. Isabelle’s frown deepened as she took in Sadie’s feeble wrists, peeking out from her deep blue sweater. This was not the same Sadie Isabelle had once known. The Sadie Isabelle had idolized- the beautiful, adventurous, fun loving Sadie seemed to have faded away with her health. Sadie always had been there for her. Why couldn’t she be there for Sadie?
“Really Sadie,” Isabelle said encouragingly, “one won’t kill you.”
 Isabelle smiled, trying to keep her tone light. Sadie’s gaze shifted nervously around the room, never meeting Isabelle’s earnest brown eyes.
“I really shouldn’t Bells,” Sadie said weakly, “I’m on a diet.”
This was too much. Isabelle couldn’t stand it anymore. She clenched her fists against the table and stood up suddenly. Frustrated tears pricked faintly behind her eyes and a growing lump rose tight in her throat. Sadie looked up, surprised.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.” Isabelle’s voice was strained. “I’ll be right back.”
            Isabelle turned from the green booth as the angry tears filling her eyes threatened to spill. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to stay dry as she hurried down a shady corridor towards the back of the diner. Her cheeks were wet by the time she reached the bathroom’s door. She clutched the door handle but did not turn it as a wave of sorrow crashed through her. Isabelle sank to her knees in silence and let the tears fall. She didn’t cry out of anger at Sadie but of anger at herself. How could she let Sadie get this way? Isabelle had known something was wrong since Sadie’s parent’s had divorced, but had never said anything, never once asked what was wrong.
Isabelle willed her sobs to subside as she stood up shakily, and wiping her swollen eyes, turned to walk back to the booth. Sadie still sat motionless, her eyes cast downward; her thin features starkly pallid against the deep olive tinge of the seat. Isabelle squeezed back into the booth, but froze in astonishment as her gaze followed Sadie’s downwards to her plate. The doughnut was gone.
“Sadie, you ate the doughnut?” A smile lit across Isabelle’s face before she could stop it. Who would’ve thought there could be such hope in something as simple as a pink doughnut?
Isabelle looked up, letting her eager eyes meet Sadie’s insipid gaze. Sadie smiled weakly in response, but it was enough to mend the edges of Isabelle’s tattered hopes.
“Ca…can we leave now?” Sadie stood up.
“Yeah, sure.” Isabelle stepped out from the tight booth. Sadie started to follow but stopped in shock as a small package tumbled from the folds of her sweater. Isabelle stooped to pick up the pink doughnut, enfolded in a yellow napkin.
Isabelle looked up, bare disappointment burning in her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the stark panic and distress that gleamed in Sadie’s. Sadie turned quickly, pushing through the thick swarm of people waiting to be seated in the front of the diner and out the front door into the harrowing chill of the dim winter morning. Isabelle ran after, earnest desperation propelling each step. She couldn’t let her get away this time.
“Sadie!” Isabelle called after her.
Sadie turned sharply and ran down an alleyway, starkly lit and wedged between two looming buildings. Rain began to spill from the swollen clouds, drenching all in its path in fluid sheets of ice.
Isabelle followed Sadie into the gloom of the wet alley. Sadie had stopped running now, but continued to walk quickly towards the flooded street beyond.
“Sadie, listen to me!” Isabelle pleaded. Sadie kept walking, her back still turned, her small figure no more than a shuffling shadow in the scant lighting. 
“Sadie,” Isabelle murmured as the tears welling in her eyes flowed into her voice, “Sadie, you can’t keep doing this.”
Sadie stopped.
“Doing what?” she asked coolly.
“Hurting yourself.”
Isabelle stood as the levees in her eyes broke at last and a cascade of tears marked their paths down Isabelle’s cheeks, mixing with the rain and dripping from her chin. A deathly silence burned between them, tearing her hopes away piece by piece until there was nothing left. Maybe there was no hope. Isabelle fought the corroding quiet and her biting urge to run away.
            Sadie turned suddenly, shattering the silence with one grating footstep, to face Isabelle. Her face was livid, her cheeks were wet.
            “What do you know?” Sadie asked her voice chillingly flat.
            “I…” Isabelle tried to speak, but the swollen lump in her throat choked her of words.
            Sadie dropped her gaze and turned away. Her frail shoulders shook slightly beneath her tightly balled fists.
            “See?” Sadie cried, her voice raw, “you don’t know anything.”
            “I know what you’re doing, Sadie,” Isabelle murmured, swallowing her tears, “and that what you’re doing is hurting you!” Isabelle’s voice broke. “It’s hurting me.”
            “You don’t understand,” Sadie said her voice acerbic.
            “I could try—“
            “No, Isabelle! You’ll never understand! It’s my fault my dad left.” Sadie’s voice fell to a sodden whisper, “it’s my fault.”
            “Sadie,” Isabelle murmured, “It is not your fault. It couldn’t have been.”
            Isabelle saw Sadie’s figure crumple as she fell to her knees in the wet shadows.
            “Is that why you’re doing this?” Isabelle asked carefully, “because you think you parents’ divorce was your fault?” 
            Isabelle saw Sadie’s shoulders shrug from where she knelt.
            “Eating is the only part of my life I can control.”
            “There’s nothing to control if you don’t eat at all!”
            The rain was starting to give now. White shafts of light peeked between the ashen clouds above, casting a thousand diamonds across the wet pavement.
            “Please,” Isabelle whispered, “please get help, Sadie. I’ll be here for you no matter what happens... please”.
            Sadie stayed where she knelt, a frail statue in the growing light. At last she rose to her feet, her fair hair plastered to her face with the weight of the rain, and turned to face her friend who now stood beside her. Sadie reached out her small pale hand and Isabelle took it in hers.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

© 2009 J. Alicia


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A great short story! Laden with vivid imagery and intense emotion. You're very skilled with words, J. Alicia. I like it! Sam

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on June 2, 2008
Last Updated on December 8, 2009

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J. Alicia
J. Alicia

bham, WA



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i do:writing dancing highschool vid.games church ilove:mes amis chocolate books books books poetry black licorice coffee walking barefoot in the rain seeing new things shoes more..

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