The Feeling That Destroys You

   I have to admit it, I am a rambler. I often speak my thoughts and sometimes I believe that is why people find me "annoying", and, in all honesty, I would have to agree. I am not the best conversationalist. But to get straight down to the core of why people hate me... well... I would not know what to tell you. Maybe I could come up with some quick lie that I'm just really ugly or fat. I don't know, maybe that's one of the reasons. In all honesty, though, I think it has to do with the fact that I live with my grandparents.

  I've been told many times that my parents hate me. I think it's because they think that my parents just abandoned me or something. But, in a way, they did. 

  In elementary school, only my closest friends knew that my parents had died in a car accident. Granted, I had more friends back then. Most of them left me in fifth grade but I suppose that's okay. So for people to say that parents would "despise" me or whatever would be irrelevant. Even though I never had the closest personal experience with my parents, it literally kills me to believe that they don't love me.

  ~

 

  Just as I had predicted, it snowed. I wiped my foggy window to peer outside. A white sheet had covered the ground but I wasn't too sure if the roads were icy or not. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I headed downstairs.

  With each step I took, the floor settled making the stairs creak. It was a lot warmer down here.

  Silence had plagued the house, I wasn't too sure what time my grandparents would wake. I didn't waste time to check if school was canceled today or not. Taking a seat on the couch folding my legs across one another, I switched on our television. I reached for the remote pressing the number 5, making it glow red. The six 'o'clock news had already started as it was six 'o'seven. I stared at the bottom of the screen as the red banner of closed or late schools trailed one after another. I waited patiently to see the white bold letters spelling out Warren County.

  My heart lifted whenever the letters spelled out my school name. With unhesitant feet, I placed them firmly on the ground. My stomach growled as I ventured into the kitchen rummaging for something to devour like a food deprived animal.

  I opened the cabinet, I reached for the box of cereal uncertain if we even had any milk. Before checking the refrigerator, I pulled down a small bowl and filled it a little less than halfway. Now to save you a whole how-to on making a bowl of cereal, I'll just cut it short. Yes, there was milk (not much, but enough),  and yes I just ate in complete silence. My stomach continued growling afterwards, but I refused seconds.

  The same moment I put my bowl in the sink, my grandmother walked in still half asleep.

  "Isabelle," she said half yawning, "you're late for school, why are you still home?"

  I tried faking the "good morning, what a lovely day it is" smile but failed miserably. "School's closed," I mumbled.

 I wasn't too sure if my grandmother heard me clearly or not as she shuffled out of the kitchen to the living room and too switched on the television and waited to see the two bold words Warren County plastered across the lower half of the screen. Moments passed before she returned back to the kitchen to inform me the details that I already knew.

  "Well, that's lovely," she chuckled lightly. "Are you hungry, dear?"

  I suppressed a hurtful retort. "Not really..."

  She turned to me with an unsatisfied stare. "You didn't eat last night," she finally said.

  My stomached churned. "I just ate," I said bluntly.

  "That isn't the point, Isabelle, you're going to get sick if you don't eat." Before I even had the chance to object, she opened the medicine cabinet and reached for an orange bottle filled a little more than hallway of small, green pills. "And you need to start taking these again."

  Antidepressants.

  I opened my mouth to say something but my grandfather came to my rescue just in time. "Thank god," I thought to myself.

  "Good morning, ladies," he said a bit too cheerfully for my taste.

  My grandmother greeted him with a warm smile which I tried to match but, once again, failed to do so.

  "How about pancakes?" He asked turning towards me.

  I shuffled awkwardly. "Well... uh... I just, like, ate so... um... I'm not hungry..."

  He gave me the same unsatisfied stare as my grandmother had done.

  "Sorry..." I whispered before turning around and retreating back to my room.

~

 

  I spent the entire day upstairs listening to music and drawing. I wasn't that great at it, in my own opinion, I thought I was terrible but it gave me something to do. I exhaled heavily and looked outside my window which was no longer covered in fog.

  Most of the snow was gone now and the roads were visibly clear. "School tomorrow," I thought bitterly.

  A lean, dark figure caught my eye in the distance. For a moment the figure just looked like a tree swaying in the wind until I noticed it to be moving closer towards the house.

  "Um." I audibly said. Like, it wouldn't have bothered me if the person had walked by a few houses and turned back, but they did not. They were heading towards the front door.

"Probably some Christian that's gonna ask us if we know who Jesus is," I decided.

  Wrapping the blanket around me once more to politely decline the religious offer, I quietly walked down the steps taking my time. I waited patiently for a knock on the door that never came. Frustrated, I opened the door letting a cold blast of wind inside. I stepped outside a scanned the area, still no sign of the stranger who had approached my home.

  The white blanket of snow still covered most yards. Everything just seemed blank to me. Just... empty like nothing was even there. It felt like my neighbors didn't exist. The lights of houses down the street all appeared to be off as if avoiding something. The dead, bare trees didn't help at all. An intense, heart wrenching feeling rose inside my chest. It was like I was disappointed to not see anyone there. I placed a bare foot into the white snow.

  "Excuse me," a deep, intriguing voice sounded ahead of me.

  I didn't bother to look up.

  "Excuse me," the man repeated.

  I lifted my hazel eyes to reveal the lean figure. I couldn't quite make out all of his facial features but I could obviously tell he was not a man.

  He didn't bother to step off the iceless road but rather seemed to want to keep a distance. "Um hi," he patiently waited for a response.

  "Hi," I said in a voice too soft for him to hear.

  He pulled out a small slip of paper and studied it for a moment. "Uh, I'm visiting here for a few months and I honestly have no clue where I'm at. I obviously don't have a car," he outstretched his arms as if I didn't believe him, "and I think I'm near the point where I might need to have my fingers amputated from frostbite," he chuckled to himself.

  I didn't even smirk. "Where are you headed?" I tried to call out.

  "Stratus Drive," he answered unhesitantly.

  I lifted an eyebrow. "I hate to break it to you, sir, but Stratus Drive is the next two streets that way," I pointed to my left.

  The guy nodded and headed off without thanking me.

  There was a sharp pain in my toes as I just realized how cold I was. I quickly retreated back inside to my room. I curled up in a ball on my bed. The intense, heart wrenching feeling came back. "You need to start taking your medicine." I could hear my grandmother lecture me now. I never wanted to live a life of antidepressants and more doctor prescriptions. It made me feel... like I was less of a person, yanno.

  I reluctantly trailed down the steps into the kitchen to retrieve two of the green pills and a water bottle. They were easy to swallow, but the thought of how conversing with a  complete stranger made that peculiar feeling evaporate like a drop of water on a hot, summer day made my mind wander. But if I were to tell my grandmother that, she would think that I was never depressed in the first place; like the fact that I will never see my parents doesn't make me rethink the communication I will ever have with anyone.

 

Author's Note

sorry that this was posted so late /. and the ending of this one was terrible in my own opinion but I needed to introduce one more character sorry.
and no.. no no... there shall not be any cliché love stories here ew.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the chapter. I like the beginning. You gave some personal thoughts. I like the Grandfather. I like the thoughts and her actions. The situation are set up with care. Allowing the reader to feel the emotion and vision the place and people. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote

[David]

This was great, I really enjoyed reading it (sorry I was so late getting to it) but I love the way you write. it doesn't feel like reading, it feels like talking to someone. it makes it much more enjoyable :) well done kid

[Wynter Ignatius]

Quite nice work again here Kindra - Yes, the ending might use a little work but as Earnest Hemingway said "The first draft of anything is s**t." While that is harsh and I don't quite agree here, we all know a bit of polish goes a long way. Keep it up and I will keep reading.

[Silent Wolf]

Lol, fun. I like how she was just like "Um, wrong street, go away." Not bad.

[emma]

I enjoying and youve left me so curious wanting to read more, well done my interest has been captured!