A Sunday Morning

Morgan wakes up one morning and receives a phone call from his father, who tells him that his teacher was admitted into the hospital due to alcohol overdose. Morgan goes to see her, hoping to help.

I opened my eyes and awoke to the sound of birds chirping just outside my window. A thin streak of light peeked in, running across my bed sheets, signaling the start of another Saturday morning. I had fallen asleep on my side and was already quite comfortable under the soft warmth of the blankets, and as such had no desire to get up. I knew that I had a couple of class assignments due soon, but I tried my best to simply forget them. At the very least, there weren’t too many of them, I think. But chances are there's an extra assignment or two that somehow managed to slip my mind. Whatever they are, I don't want to deal with the surprise of finding out. 

Suddenly, my mind wandered to the day before. Did I remember to pack father’s lunch? If not, then what would he eat at work? I doubt the vending machines have anything fulfilling. I could make something right now and bring it to him. What time is it anyway? Maybe it's already past lunch time, and father already has the matter figured out.

The noise got louder. Why couldn't I just rest easy for once?

Absent-mindedly, I reached for a pillow from the other side of the bed, and pressed  it down on the side of my head, hoping desperately that it would block out the noise. But it didn’t.

I wonder what Lucy's doing right now. It's Saturday, so she's probably out with her friends or something. Did she eat a good breakfast today? Is it even time for that right now? I hope her classes are going well, but I guess she'd just ask me for help if she needed it, so she's probably doing fine. But then again, maybe not. Sometimes people don't ask for help even when they're in desperate need of it. I'm sure she'll be fine though, she's a smart girl.

The noise started to fill the inner depths of my mind. I tried pressing down harder in an attempt to block out more of the noise, but it was to no avail. The comfortable resting position that I spent several hours last night trying to find was beginning to slip away. The air became cold, and the warmth I had felt earlier was starting to escape. I tried desperately to recapture some of that warmth, to somehow slip back into the comfortable embrace of sleep, but the incessant sounds that rang from within my head pushed my consciousness into the coldness of reality.

Sighing in defeat, I tossed the pillow aside and reached for a specific spot on my desk, and after some fumbling around,  found my phone. Turning on the screen revealed a background consisting of a purple sky and a mountain range. One of the defaults, I’ve never bothered to change it since I got my phone. I blinked a few times to clear my vision, and read the time.

It was Saturday alright. February 11th, 20XX to be exact, the time being 9:14AM.

I tapped in my pass code and unlocked the screen. The background wallpaper didn't change, and I was greeted by the icons of some mostly useless apps that I’ve never bothered to remove from my home page. I checked my messages, of which there were none. Most people would be happy to see a message from someone they know, but I never had the luxury of experiencing such a thing. The only two people in my contacts were my father and sister, alongside a few distant family members. To me, not seeing any messages was a good thing. It meant that all was well, and that I did everything I was supposed to.

I thought briefly about checking the app my school uses to post grades and assignments, to see what exactly was due in the nearby future. But I didn't want to think about such things this early in the morning, not until I've brushed my teeth and ate some breakfast at the very least.

I turned off the screen and placed the phone back on my desk. I guess at this point I didn't really have a reason to not get up, so I threw the blankets off and sat up at the side of my bed. The air was rather cold, but the carpet beneath my feet did bring forward a familiar feeling of comfort.

Once again, I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision, and stretched my shoulders. I put on my glasses, and instantly the world became more clear. Pushing myself off my bed, I put on the jacket that I had thrown on my chair last night before leaving the room. I made sure to suppress the sounds of my movements as much as possible, on the off chance that my sister was still asleep. Her bedroom was straight across mine, and my father's bedroom was on the left side, in between ours. However, I saw that her door was already wide open, so there was no reason for me to be quiet.

I then walked into the bathroom and went about my usual morning ritual. Afterwards, I stepped into the living room and noticed that Lucy was laying down on the couch with a book in her hands: F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, one of the books I remember having to read for an English class in my sophomore year. Before I could comment on the fact, I heard the soft, rhythmic sound of bells approach. A blur of gray came into my field of vision, and upon looking down, spotted our cat, Sirius. He had made its way towards my legs and was now swirling about. I bent down and gave him some scratches behind the ear, and then he was off.

“How's the book?” I asked Lucy while walking past her and moving into the kitchen.

“It was kind of difficult to follow at first, but I got used to the writing style eventually. Now it’s not so bad.” Lucy responded.

I nodded, but then realized that Lucy couldn’t see me from where she was.

“Yea, it was the same way for me.” I open the fridge and scour for ingredients to make breakfast with. “I'm sure you'll grow to like it, of all the books I had to read that year, that one was my favorite.”

“We'll see about that.” Lucy said.

“Did you already eat breakfast?” I notice a carton of eggs. Maybe I could make an omelet? I'm sure Lucy would prefer something a little more sweet though. Pancakes maybe?  

“Yea.” Lucy responded.

Omelets it is then.

I reach for the egg carton, pushing aside all the other stuff in the way. Setting it aside on the counter next to me, I return to the fridge and one by one take out all the other ingredients I would need for the omelet: Spinach, a bag of mixed cheese, and butter. The usual stuff.

“If you just waited a bit I could’ve made something for you, y’know.” I said.  

“I didn't know when you'd wake up, and besides, I feel bad for having you cook for us all the time. I can make something by myself from time to time.”

I step back and forth throughout the kitchen, searching through a bunch of different cabinets to grab all the cooking utensils and other ingredients I would need for the meal.

“What'd you eat this morning then?” I asked while setting a frying pan on the top of the stove.

“Peanut butter and banana bread.”

“I see.” Turning on the stove, I waited for the pan to heat up before dropping a slice of butter into it. Right away, the familiar sizzling sound that I've come to associate with my morning routine filled the room. While that was happening, I broke 3 eggs into a bowl and whisked them together with a fork, adding in some grounded peppers and a pinch of salt afterwards.  

“How are your other classes going?” I asked.

A short pause. “Fine, I guess.”

“Ask me if I need help with any of them. Unless if it's history or biology, I don't remember anything from those classes.”

“I think I'll be alright, it's just one or two classes I need to spend more time on compared to the rest.”

Very slowly, I poured the bowl of whisked eggs into the pan, making sure to get as even of a coating as I possibly could.  

“Math?”

A sigh. “Yea.”

The conversation simply ended with that, and the only sounds that filled the air was the sizzling of the frying pan and the occasional turning of the page. I kept a close eye on the omelet, poking the edges with a spatula every now and then to see when it'd be time to add in the rest of the ingredients.

And then, I heard a quiet beeping noise. It disappeared, and then reappeared again a split second later. I recognized the sound to be my phone's ringtone, and was just about to turn off the frying pan to quickly get it, before Lucy spoke.

“Want me to get that for you?” 

“Yea, I'd appreciate it.” 

I hear the sound of a book close shut, and then footsteps fading away deeper in the house. The sides of the omelet seemed cooked enough at this point. Normally I'd add in the spinach, and the cheese and the whatnot, but knowing I'd have one of my hands full in the upcoming seconds made me wonder if I should just turn off the stove right now and wait until the conversation was done and over with it. But even if I were to turn off the stove, the omelete would still continue to cook, which might end up slightly burning it in the end.

The ringtone got louder, and the sound of footsteps started to return. Lucy suddenly popped into my line of sight and held out my phone in front of me.  

“It's dad.” She said. Not like it could have been anyone else.

I grabbed the phone with my left hand, and put it against my ear. Lucy walked out of the kitchen, and presumably back to the sofa in order to continue her reading.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hey, Morgan. I need to talk to you.”

“You're doing that right now.” I quip, expecting to get a laugh. But his tone remained the same.

“Tell me, what was the name of your English teacher again?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Well, her full name's Charlotte Everleigh. But...” My voice trailed off as my heart sank into my stomach. I feared the worst. “W-Why are you asking?”

“Well, earlier this morning the hospital just admitted someone under that name. Reports say that the woman was drinking and was found passed out way earlier this morning. She's awake now, but she's not in a good state. Refuses to eat and barely talks to any of the staff.”

I hear my heart thumping against my chest, getting louder and louder. “What does she look like? Blond hair, blue eyes?”

“Yes.”

“S**t...”

“Morgan?”

“I think I have an idea on what might have happened.”

“Really?”

“This happened a while ago.” I turn off the stove and set the frying pan aside on another stovetop.

“Think it was about 5 or 6 months ago, when I went to the mall to pick out a gift for your birthday? I ran into Miss Charlotte at one of the food courts, conversed with her for a bit.”

---

“Miss Charlotte?” I asked.

It was one of those encounters, the ones that you thought about happening but didn't think would actually happen. You can try to simply avert your gaze and walk past them, pretending not to notice. That’s what I’d prefer to do, anyhow, but as soon your eyes meet, you don't have much of a choice but to just roll with it. It'd be awkward and perhaps even rude to just keep walking. Depends on the person. 

I was simply minding my own business, and amidst the crowds, somehow managed to catch the glimpse of a familiar person from the corner of my eye. The person in question was my English teacher. except she was also having lunch with an older man. Her father, I presume. Or perhaps some other older relative. 

Charlotte didn’t look much different from how she usually looks inside the classroom, although it was a bit surprising to see her wear more casual clothes. The man on her opposite side however, didn’t look like he was in the best of shape. His face was thin, as was his body. His hair was gray, although it looked to me as if he had lost most of it. Or maybe he just got a really bad service from a barber.

“Oh, Morgan!” Charlotte waved. “Didn't expect to see you here.” 

“Just because I don't have any friends doesn't mean I don't have other reasons to be at the mall” I said with a straight face.

“Wait, that's not what-”

The old man sitting next to Charlotte hunched over and laughed. “I like this one! One of your students, I'm guessing?” 

Despite his appearances, it seems as if he had plenty of life in him.

“Yes, he is.” Charlotte turned towards me. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. It's just that the odds of something like this happening are quite slim.” Charlotte said.

“I was just trying to go for a joke, I didn't take any offense to it.” I said.

Charlotte sighed. “Your self deprecating sense of humor can be really off putting at times.”

“Why don't you take a seat Morgan? I'd love to know more about one of my daughter's students.” The man sitting next to Charlotte said.

“I, uh…”

“Father, please. I'm sure he has other important matters to attend to right now.” Charlotte turned towards me once again. “Don't let us keep you.” Charlotte smiled. “But if you wish to sit with us, then I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, I was out here to buy a gift for my dad’s birthday.” S**t, why did I say that? I should’ve just nodded and walked away.

“If that’s the case, then why don’t we bounce ideas? I’m sure I can offer some advice.” The man said as he extended his hand. “The name’s Elliot.”

Great, now I’m trapped. I shook his hand and sat myself down in the empty chair in between the two.

“Guess I can stay for a few minutes, I'm not in a rush.” In truth, I wanted to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Seeing a teacher out in public is awkward enough as it is, let alone when one of their parents happens to be next to them as well.

“So, do you already have something in mind?” Elliot asked.

“Er, no, not really. I figured I'd just walk around first for ideas.”

“Does your father have any interests?”

“If he did then I'd already know what to buy.”

Elliot laughed once again, a bit louder than last time.

“Father, please keep your voice down. There are other people around.” Charlotte turned towards me. “Have you considered getting him something handmade?”

I shook my head. “I’m not really good with my hands.”

Elliot took a sip from his drink. “Maybe something practical then. A wallet, watch, new clothing, a pocket knife,” Elliot paused. “Something to drink coffee out of. Or alcohol.”

“Dad.” Charlotte said with piercing eyes.

Elliot held up his hands. “Joking.”

“Hm. I guess something that he could actually use would be a safe bet.” I said.

“You could also go about this another way. Maybe take him out for some lunch and a round of golf?” Elliot said.

“He doesn’t have the time.” I said.

“Ah. Sorry to hear that, busy job I imagine.” Elliot said.

“He’s a nurse.” I said.

“Oof. That’s tough.” Elliot said.

“You know,” Charlotte started. “I wouldn’t really worry too much about it. Most parents would be glad to receive anything from their child. My father’s kept nearly every gift I’ve ever given him.”

“It’s true. “ Elliot extended out his hand. “Take a look at this watch. A bit out of style, and it’s seen better days, but it was a gift from my daughter. No way I could part with it.”

“The thing barely works anymore. “I've offered to buy him a new one but he refuses.” Charlotte said.

“Hm.” I pondered for a moment. “Thanks. I’ll keep all of this mind. I admit, I’ve probably made this more of a complicated issue than it actually is.”

Elliot yawned and leaned back into his chair. He stretched his arms and looked around the food court, as if he were searching for something. “You know, I wouldn’t mind eating something sweet right now. But the question is what?”

“Are you serious? We should save the desserts for dinnertime. Besides, we just had a pretty big lunch. You can’t seriously be hungry after that.” Charlotte said.

Elliot ignored Charlotte’s plea and continued to search around the food court, until he spotted something that piqued his interest. “Oh hey, there’s a Coldstone here. Been a while since I’ve had any.” Elliot turned towards Charlotte. “Mind buying me some, please? A little bit of ice cream has never hurt anybody.”

Charlotte closed her eyes and sighed. “Fine, but only a little.”

“Thank you.”

Charlotte pushed herself out of her seat. “Do you want anything?” Charlotte asked me.

“Er, no thanks. I’m good.” I said. Jeez, that’d be weird.

Charlotte nodded and walked into the crowd, until eventually she was barely visible.

“By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that you call Charlotte by her first name.” Elliot said.

I nodded. “That’s what she insisted on the first day of school.”

“I see.” Elliot said as he leaned in and looked down at his hands. He twirled his thumbs and bit his lip before speaking again. “Hey, Morgan. I need to ask a favor from you.” 

“Uh...”

“Please, just hear me out. It's serious.” Elliot said. His smile was gone, and the tone of his voice had deepend.

“Alright, but no promises.”

“I'm sure you might have guessed from my appearance, but I'm not long for this world. The doctors said I only had about a year or so to live, maybe less.” Elliot said. I waited for him to continue. “I doubt you know this, but Charlotte is actually my adoptive daughter. Her real parents died when she was awfully young. I was a friend of theirs.”

“Okay. I didn't know that.” I said.

“The thing is, I'm the only real family she's got. And knowing how she is, there's no telling what she’ll do to herself when my time comes.” Elliot took a deep breath. “I know Charlotte well. She's always the type of person that wanted desperately to help others and lift their mood, but sometimes she forgets to take care of herself in the process.”

“Huh, sounds like someone else I know. But where are you going with this exactly? Why are you telling me this?”

“When the time comes. I want you to help my daughter. To remind her that she doesn’t have to do everything herself and that it’s okay to rely on others.” 

I blinked. “I'm sorry for what you’re dealing with right now, but I have no idea why you're putting this on me. I'm the least qualified person for this. Even if she doesn't have any other family, I'm sure she has friends that would look out for her.”

“She's stubborn. She won't listen to her friends. But she'll listen to her students. You especially.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She's mentioned you a couple of times, among a few others.”

“I doubt it was in a positive light.”

“No, it was.”

“I-”

“Quiet, she's coming back. Pretend like we're talking about dad stuff.”

“Oh. Uh...” As if I could suddenly go back to normal conversation after being told all of that.

“And so, “ Elliot said with a returning smile, “Sometimes the best thing you can buy for your dad is a 6 pack of beer.”

“Father! What kind of things are you putting into his head?” Charlotte returned with two small paper bowls of ice cream. She handed one of them to Elliot before returning to her seat, holding the other bowl in her hand.

“I don't know what he told you, but ignore it. I doubt it was anything of value.” Charlotte said.

“Oh come on Charlotte, I was just sharing some of the wisdom I've acquired over the years.” Elliot said.

“Ignore it. He's full of- I mean, he doesn't know what he's talking about.” Charlotte said.

The muscles around my lips wanted to contort into a smile, but I bit my gums and held back the urge. Charlotte has a very strict no-swearing rule in the classroom.

“Well,” I got up from my seat, “I think I should go now, it was nice talking to the two of you.”I said.

“Wait.” Charlotte held out the bowl of ice cream. “Here you go.”

I raised my brow. “What? But I said I didn't want anything.”

“I know, but take it anyway.”

“She's only saying that because she realized how many calories that thing has on the way here.” Elliot chuckled to himself.

“Dad! Shut up!” Charlotte turned towards me and stretched her arm out even farther.“Just take it already, it's gonna melt before you even have a chance to eat it.”

Reluctantly, I took the ice cream off her hand. It was of a light green color, either mint or pistachio if I were to guess.

“How much did it cost?” I asked as I put the ice cream down on the table and reached for my wallet.

“Oh, don't worry about it. You can pay me back when you're an adult.”

“Well, I technically am now.”

Charlotte shook her head. “In my book, adulthood is a state of mind, not an age.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” I pick up the ice cream. “Thanks. Guess I'll see you on Monday.”

“Hope you find a good gift for your dad. Don't get anything too expensive though.” Charlotte said.

I simply nodded, but before I could even turn around, Elliot called out to me. “Don't forget what I told you!”

“Whatever it is he told you while I was gone, forget it! I doubt even half of it was any good.” Charlotte said.

I faced Elliot. “I'll give it some thought, I guess.” And before either of them could respond, I turned my heel and started moving forward, although I could still hear their voices amidst the hundreds others that surrounded me.

“Seriously, you can be such a bad influence.” Charlotte said.

“I'm sure a kid with his sense of humor would know that I was just joking. No harm. no foul.”

“But even then, it's not really a good idea to joke about these kinds of things either! Oh, and why isn't every time that you and I meet someone I know in public, you can't help but embarrass me in some way? Next time I'm taking you out to lunch in my apartment.”

With every step I took, their voices became more and more inaudible, eventually disappearing into the endless buzzing of the crowd. I simply continued to walk, my mind full of fog. I found a bench where I could sit down and gather my thoughts.

Despite what I said to Elliot at the very end, I wasn't sure if my words were truthful or not. Maybe I just spewed them out of my mouth to give him some peace of mind.

He said that he had a year or two to live, which means that I won't even be in high school by the time it happens. At that point, can it really be considered my problem? I'll be off in college, and probably won't see anyone from high school ever again. Not that I really knew anyone in the first place. And if her parents really did die when she was young, then surely that means she's capable of dealing with the pain of losing her adoptive father.

I closed my eyes, disgusted at my own thoughts. It's not that I don't want to help. I just don't think I'm capable of saving anyone.

I looked down at the bowl of ice cream in my hand. It was beginning to melt. I cut a piece of ice cream with the spoon and pushed it into my mouth.

Pistachio flavored. Yuck. Why do adults like this crap?

---

“And so, that's the gist of what happened.” I said.

A pause from the other line. “I see. I take it you already know what to do next.”

I paused. “Yea. At least, I think I do.”

“She's staying in room 206. Oh, and bring her something to eat, will you? The s**t they serve here barely qualifies as food.”

“Yea.” I look at the half finished omelet.“Yea, I'll do that.”

“Good. Oh, and this might not be the best time to say it, but I'm really proud of you. You've changed a lot in the past year or so.”

I said nothing.

“Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer. Good luck.” The line clicked, and went silent.

I ended the call and let my arms drop to my side, not realizing how tense my shoulders were. I simply looked down at the stove absentmindedly while contemplating what I was going to do. Obviously I'll be visiting Miss Charlotte, but what the hell am I going to do once I get there? What could I possibly say to make the situation any better? Times like this you just don't know what to say to people, and if you're on the receiving end, it's as if the world just suddenly fell apart, and any reason to exist just goes straight out of the window. You can't focus on anything. Your responsibilities, your own well being, the people around you, you can only focus on the pain.

I raise my head, determined to somehow make this s****y situation a bit better. In the corner of my high I spot Lucy standing a few paces away from me.

“Looks like you've got somewhere to be?” Lucy said.

I nodded.

“Alright. Good luck.”

 

I ended up skipping breakfast that morning. In my hand was a paper bag that held a container and a plastic fork. And inside the container, was the omelette.

The doors of the elevator slid open. As I stepped inside and ascended up to the second floor, I mulled over what I was going to say to Charlotte once I eventually got to her room. I've never really been the best conversationalist. The only people I can really open up to and talk to easily are my father and sister. I've known them for my whole life after all, and I've never really gotten to know anyone the way I know them.

Ding!

The elevator slowly came to a stop. The doors open and I step onto the second floor. I was in a large corridor with white walls. Wooden doors were lined up on both sides, with placards on them to indicate the room number. Nurses, doctors, and visitors all made their way up and down the corridor.

I locate Charlotte’s room and reach for the handle, but I unconsciously pull away. There was a part of me that still wasn’t prepared for what was to come.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and then slowly turn the handle. Walking inside, I notice Charlotte on the bed staring outside the window.Right away I notice that her hair, which was always tidy and consistently well-kept, was now in shambles.

I figured she’d hear my footsteps and turn her gaze, but even after closing the door, she simply continued to stare into the outside world.

I looked around for somewhere to place the paper bag upon, there wasn’t a whole lot of furnishing. The hospital bed itself was up against the furthest wall from the door. On my right, there was a two seater couch. On the left, a square table and a chair. I placed the bag down on the surface that made the most sense. The rustle of the bag caught Charlotte’s attention. I wanted to open my mouth and say something, but I couldn’t.

She looked awful. Her eyes were red and there were marks of dried tears on her cheeks. And maybe it was just the sunlight dripping in through the window, but her face looked a tad bit paler than usual. But I knew that there was no such illusion.

She obviously didn’t expect to see me. Her eyes widened and her mouth was slightly agape.

I forced an awkward smile and waved. “Hey,” was all I could say.   

“H-How did you find me here?” She whispered. Her voice was dry.

“My dad works here. He called me.” I said.

“I...” Charlotte shifted her gaze downwards. “I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. Please leave.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that,”I reached inside the paper bag I had set on the table earlier, and pulled out the container. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Charlotte looked at me, but gave no response.

“It's nothing special, but it's probably miles better than whatever they've been trying to serve you here. If you still want me to leave, then I'll leave-but only after I’ve seen you eat a few bites.”

I open the container and hold it out in front of Charlotte. She looked at it for a moment, and then took the container into her hands.

“You made this?” Charlotte asked.

“Yea. My father let me warm it up in one of the break rooms, so don’t wait for it to get cold.”

Charlotte simply stared down at the container. “I can’t eat this.” 

“Oh, are you allergic to-” I stopped mid-sentence. “Right, fork. Sorry.”

I reach into the paper bag and hand Charlotte the plastic fork. 

Charlotte took the fork from my hand, but she didn't start eating right away. She simply placed the container on her lap and stared at it, twirling the fork in her hands. Finally, she ripped off a tiny piece and put it in her mouth. Then, a slightly bigger piece, and an even bigger one after that.  

“I'm surprised you made this. Didn’t know you were much of a cook.” 

“I just used the basic ingredients. Next time I'll make you an extra special one.”

Charlotte stopped chewing. “Next time?”

“I imagine they aren't going to let you go just yet. If you'd like, I could bring you something tomorrow morning as well. I didn't have much time to make this one, wanted to get here as soon as possible.

“I suppose that would be acceptable.” Charlotte looked downwards. “I'm guessing you already know what happened.”

I hesitated. “Your father, right?”

Charlotte nodded. “He was the only family member I ever knew. I didn't know my real parents for long, and my close relatives were...” Charlotte paused. “Awful. Just awful. Elliot saved me from what could have been a life full of abuse and mistreatment. I knew I'd lose him someday. I thought I was prepared for it, but that couldn't have been more far from the truth. I clearly wasn’t ready.”

‘I don’t think anyone really is. At least, the first time.” I sighed. “Look, I'm not the most empathetic person in the world, but I think I have an idea of what you're going through. When I lost my mother, the only thing I could focus on was-”

“You... You lost your mother? When?” Charlotte interrupted. 

“Er, 4 and a half years ago, roughly.” I responded. “Anyway, I know it may not seem like it, but eventually...” My voice trailed off, Charlotte was staring at me with her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

And then, it seemed to me as if a light had gone off in her head. “Is that why... why you're the way you are now?”

I scratched my head. “Well, I guess you can say that. But I think it was more so what I did afterwards that really changed me.”

“I don't understand.”

“Hm. How to explain.” I thought momentarily. “I forgot what day it was, but I remember you saying in class that stories are the best way to learn about the truths of the world, and about ourselves. Regardless of the way they're told, they can be used to teach us important lessons. Do you still think that's true?”

“Well, yes. Of course, but I don't see what you're getting at.”

“Do you want to hear my story then? Of what happened to me after my mother died, and how I ended up the way I am now. Maybe you can learn something from it.”

“I...” Charlotte cleared her throat. “Yes. But only if you're comfortable with sharing it.”

I nodded. “When my mother died, I did what any kid would do. I locked myself in my room, cried myself to sleep, and refused to talk to anyone. My sister did the same, and my father would force himself to go to work. And at the end of the day, he would drink. Not too excessively, but that was just his way with coping. At first, I spent a lot of time cursing the world for taking the person I loved the most away from me. I cursed God. At some point I even yelled at my own father.” I swallowed. “I blamed him for what happened, but that obviously wasn't true. Either way, that ended up being the only time he ever raised his hand against me.”  

I paused, and then continued. “But some time after that, I realized that my way of thinking was selfish. I didn't take into consideration how my father or sister felt about the situation. I knew that they were hurting just as much as I was, but at the time I could only care about how myself.

And then, I swore it upon myself to fill in the missing void that my mother had left on our family. For the sake of my father and sister, I put aside my pain and started to take up some responsibilities in my mother's place. I learned how to cook, and eventually got a job. I also turned myself into the model student. Spent all my free time studying so I could get a scholarship for college. Everything I did, was for their sake. Eventually, my sister started going back to school too. I made sure to help her with her homework whenever she got stuck.”

I took a deep breath. “Things eventually went back to normal, I guess. But, it all came at a cost. In my endeavor to ease the burden my mother left on my family, I forgot to take care of myself. I had no hobbies or dreams of my own, and I ended up distancing myself from all my friends, destroying the connection we once had. And in order to cope with that, I convinced myself that I didn't need such relationships in the first place. But obviously, that was just a lie.”

“You've... really been through a lot.”

I shrugged. “One day, about a year ago actually. I got into an argument with my family at the dinner table. My father saw how much of a toll my job was taking on me. Some days I would come home as late as twelve, and then I’d wake up at six-thirty the next day. He told me to quit, saying there wasn't really a reason for me to work so much anymore. I got defensive, because the whole reason I got a job was for their sake. I had a sense of purpose. However, I also knew that eventually, I’d end up quitting the job anyway. I knew that I needed to find a purpose for myself other than helping my family, but I pushed those thoughts into the corner of my mind. I used my family as an excuse to not think about those sorts of things.”

“What happened after that dinner?”

“Well, my dad and I continued arguing. And then...” I laughed. “Well, my sister slapped me. Said I was being a selfish a*****e and should think about how my actions are hurting the people that care about me.” I rubbed my shoulder. “I guess that was sort of a wake up call. After that I... I started asking people for help more, I guess. I started facing my fears, started thinking more about what I really wanted from life.” I sighed. “It's still all very difficult to be honest. I still don't know what I want to do in college, and since I'm already a senior, it's too late to make any friends. But, hopefully I can start things over in college.”

I glanced up at the ceiling. “In short, I guess I ended up wasting my youth. I stopped caring about myself, and used my own family as an excuse to deal with my pain. It's true that I still ended up helping them in the end, but I refused to let them help me in return. And it cost me.” I turned towards Charlotte. “So, please don't do what I did. Don't turn your back on all the people that care about you. Talk to them, confide in them, and let them help you.”

I concluded my story.

Charlotte stared at first, and then managed to muster a slight smile. “You've really changed a lot. You were quite a cynic at the start of the year.”

“Ah.” I avert my gaze. “I was able to realize my mistakes partially because of your class,  your writing prompts forced me to think about things I didn’t really want to think about. So I have you to thank as well.”

“Well, the whole reason I wanted to become a teacher was to help kids grow and discover their potential. I'm glad I was able to help in some way.”

I nodded. “I’d say you’ve certainly done a good job at that. The people that were always afraid to raise their hand and contribute to a discussion in prior English classes are suddenly able to do so in yours.”

“Really? Is that true?”

“Yea. I know so because I’ve shared classes with these people in the past. They didn’t seem quite as confident back then as they do now.” I paused. “But remember, you can’t help other people if you aren’t taking care of yourself. If anything you’ll just end up hurting the people you’re trying to help.”

Charlotte laughed. “It seems as if you and me aren't so different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was never really good at taking care of myself either. I spent too much time worrying about other people. Still do, I guess. But, moving forward from now, I'll try keeping your advice in mind.”

I nodded.

“I guess I can start by... calling some of my friends maybe.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Ask one of the nurses for a telephone, they'll let you use one.”

And suddenly, an idea flashed in my mind. “Hey, this might be a bit early to ask, but what do you plan on doing on Monday?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, do you plan on finding a substitute teacher?”

“Well, that depends I suppose. If they discharge me by the end of Sunday then I think I can make it to class the next day.”

“Even so, you should consider taking a day off. It might be a good idea to get a little bit of rest.”

Charlotte squinted her eyes. “What are you scheming?”

S**t.

“Nothing. Just saying you should take it easy for a little bit. Don't want to go for a run right after recovering from a leg injury, yea?”

“I suppose. I have a friend or two that I can call in as a substitute teacher, so I’ll be able to take Monday off.”

I nodded. “Good.”

---

Monday morning started off the same as any other-I made breakfast for everyone, packed lunch, made sure I had everything I needed in my backpack, and set for school alongside Lucy. The school itself wasn’t too far from our house, about a 15 to 20 minute walk. When we arrived on campus, the two of us went our separate ways.

There were still a couple of minutes left before first period started. Normally I’d just try to find a secluded spot to sit down and read a book, but on cold days such as this one, I was forced to go inside. This time however, I found myself outside of Charlotte’s classroom. I knocked but there was no answer, so I was forced to deal with the piercing chill of the winter air. I tapped my foot and hugged myself in order to deal with the cold, but fortunately someone did arrive at the door eventually-someone I didn’t recognize. He looked to be a man in his mid thirties. Tall and slender, but tidy and well kept. He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.

“Are you substituting for Miss Charlotte?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Are you one of her students?”

“Yeah. There’s something I want to talk to you about, in regards to her condition.”

He looked at the cardboard box I held in my hands. “I see. Would you rather we go inside first?”

I nodded. “Yes. Please.”

The man pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, and after searching for some bit, unlocked the door. He turned the handle and let me into the classroom, then closed the door behind me. Instantly, I felt more at ease.

“Ah. That’s much better.” I set the box down on a nearby table, and faced the man. He put his hands in his pockets and waited for me to speak.

“Whatever it is that Charlotte asked you to have the class do today, I propose we do something else. I assume you already know she’s in the hospital, yea?”

He hesitated, and then nodded.

“She's in a rough spot right now. I’ve lost a parent too in the past so I sort of have some idea of what she’s going through. I was thinking that everyone could spend some time writing her letters wishing her well. I’m sure the emotional support would mean a lot to her.” I open the box and reveal an array of colored paper, stickers, envelopes, and construction paper. “The cabinets at the back of the room have scissors and glue. At the end of each class, have everyone put their letters in the cardboard box. I’ll come by at the end of the day to pick them up.”

“You’re going to bring them to her yourself?”

“Yea. If you want to do it then that’d be fine too. But since it’s my idea I figured the burden should be on me.”

He shook his head. “I think it’d be better if you were the one to bring the letters to her.”

“So, you’re okay with this?”

He smiled. “Charlotte’s my friend. I want to do whatever it takes to help her. She’ll probably yell at me later, but it’d be a small price to pay.”

I nodded. “Great. Glad to know you’re on board 

“Oh, and would your name happen to be Morgan by any chance?”

I blinked. “It is. How’d you know?”

“She mentioned you to us when me and her other friends came to visit her at the hospital. She thinks very highly of you.”

I scratched my head. “I’m nothing special-still quite stupid when it comes to quite a lot of things.”

He laughed. “Aren’t we all. Although, not everyone can admit it.”

I looked at the time. There were 10 minutes left before class started.

“Well. I’ll be going now. See you in 3rd period.” I said.

---

Later that day, I found myself in the hospital once again. The box was now full of envelopes with a variety of different hand drawn designs. Additionally, some people took the time to make origami cranes and flowers. I made sure to handle the box carefully, to make sure nothing got creased or crushed.

When I arrived at Charlotte’s room, I grasped the box with one hand and opened the door with the other.  Charlotte was waiting on the other side as usual, but this time she wasn’t in bed-she was pacing around the room with a hand on her chin. 

“Oh.” Charlotte  waved. “Good afternoon. Was wondering when you’d come.” She sat down on the bed. “What’s with the box?”

“Take a look yourself.” I presented the box to Charlotte, she reached for it but didn’t immediately take it from my hands. She opened the lid flaps-and for a moment it seemed to me as if she didn’t really know what she was looking at. One by one, she picked up some of the envelopes and read the names on them.

“What is all this? What did you do?” Charlotte asked, her voice a bit shaky.

“I asked Dave if we could write letters. Some people made cards I guess. And origami.”

Charlotte clenched her fists, her shoulders quivered and a single tear fell.

“I promised myself I’d stop crying but this is…” Her voice trailed off.

“Well, if you’re going to cry then set the box aside at least. Don’t want the letters getting wet.”

Charlotte straightened her back and took a deep breath. “No. It’s alright.” She smiled softly. “I’m just surprised, is all. This was the last thing I expected to happen. What made you come up with this idea?”

I shrugged. “Figured you could use a reminder, that all the people you’ve helped appreciate you and care about your wellbeing.”

Charlotte took another look at the box, and then back towards me. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done in the past few days.” 

I nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

Charlotte looked down. “You know, my heart's still in a lot of pain-but I think things are going to turn out alright in the future.”

I looked up. “Yea. I think they will be.”

---