So, it's a very random piece I wrote. I decided to listen to a song and write what came to mind. I chose "Lie" by David Cook. To be honest, it's 1:30 a.m. right now, so this isn't my best and I sort of wrote it in a hurry to get to sleep. I didn't even try to revise any of it, but I hope you enjoy it. I just love being able to write what comes to mind. I guess I'm a strange writer, because I don't write from past experiences, I don't normally take my own emotions and put them into my writing. I just write to write and I let my thoughts flow onto paper. In all honesty, it's just a story thought up on the spot with a little inspiration from this song. Leave your comments.
Here's the song.
LIE TO ME
I roll onto my side and glance towards my bedroom window where light starts to creep through the curtains. I lay there for a moment with my eyes open and my heavy comforter only covering my legs. Single thoughts slip in and out of my mind of what I should eat for breakfast or what I should wear for the day. Eventually I get bored and sit up, breathing in deep and running my fingers through my messy curls.
Within twenty minutes I'm downstairs dressed in my skinny jeans and a light v-neck t-shirt with my curls touched up and light makeup drawn expertly onto my face. I could tell from the moment I woke up that everyone was already gone. The house was too quiet for anyone to even be breathing, so I grab an apple and head out the door, slinging my backpack over one shoulder. My car is already heated from the morning sun and my favorite band starts running through the speakers.
It takes me just seven minutes to reach the high school. As I pull into the half full parking lot, I catch a glimpse of my brother Cory sitting on the grass near the side doors. Of course I know he's waiting for me and he gives me a slight wink as I drive by, pulling into the parking space nearest to him. He's at my door before I even have a chance to unbuckle. By the time I step out of the car he has slung my backpack over his shoulder--the other one already occupied by his own--and has his elbow ready to escort me to class.
"Ready for another day, Princess Beth?" He asks me with a slight British accent. Princess has always been his nickname for me since I was born.
Cory is just eleven months older than me. He was held back in first grade, because it took him longer to talk than most kids. So, we're in the same grade and I suppose that's why we're so close. Our parents forced us to bond more than regular siblings by sticking us in most or all of our classes throughout middle school. By high school we chose to be in the same classes. We're both Juniors this year. Cory is more into the clubs though. I never really fit in anywhere specific. I let myself just roam differently every year. We're the only kids in our family and our parents work most of the day, so we're on our own a lot of the time. We survive. Cory is definitely over protective of me and makes sure all of my needs are met. He's my best friend and I'm his.
My day turned out to be pretty uneventful. I had two classes with Cory, first and fourth period. My other two seemed to drag on longer than usual. I was relieved to lace my arm through Cory's as he escorted me back to my car after school. He normally walks to school and gets a ride home with me.
"I think I'm going to stick around a little bit longer. There's a teacher I need to talk to. I'll run by the grocery store on my way home and pick something up for dinner. My phone is dead, so don't worry about calling me." Cory hands me my backpack and opens my door.
"Okay, just make sure you're back by four o'clock. Seriously, Cory, I'll call the cops if you're five minutes late this time." I give my brother a slight wink as I climb into my car and roll down my window as I shut my door.
Cory laughs, "You can call the cops if I'm not home by 3:45. Take a pill, Beth."
"Love you, too." And with that I'm gone from the school.
By 3:55 I'm nervous. Cory's been late before, but it rarely happens. I'll admit, I might be just as protective of my brother as he is to me, but we were sort of raised that way. We always joke about calling the cops on each other, but by 4:35 I'm getting a little scared. I wait another fifteen minutes before I get into my car and drive back down to the school. About half way there I'm waved to a detour road by a police officer. Up ahead I can see a few cop cars and an ambulance with their lights flashing. I take the detour road and get to the school. A few teachers' cars still sit in the parking lot. I roam around the school for a bit, checking in on Cory's teachers, but all of them were already gone. I decide to go back home and see if Cory is back yet. I might have missed him when I took the detour.
By the time I get through at the school it's almost six o' clock. On my way home I have the radio turned to a news station. A story relates about a drive by shooting that happened near my high school. I assumed that that's what I must have hit when I had to take the detour. These stories don't seem to affect me as much anymore. They happen all too often in our area. None have come as close to the high school or our neighborhood, so that was a little shocking, but I didn't think too hard on it.
I'm confused when I pull into the driveway and I see a couple cop cars parked outside of our house. Both Mom and Dad's cars are sitting in the garage. That was strange. They didn't get off work until late tonight. Mom steps out onto the porch as I get out of the car.
"Beth, where have you been?" She sounds distressed and a little frightened. I notice her cheeks are streaked with tears. Mom isn't someone to cry.
"I went to see if Cory was still at the high school. He said he would be back by four. What's with the cops...?" And then it hit me. Cory would have made it back by four. He hit the same scene that I did, but much sooner and in a different way. There was always a part of me that knew when I took the detour, when I heard the news story, when I say my parents' cars.
"Never mind. I don't want to know. Cory was going to pick up something for dinner, but I guess he forgot. I've got some homework to do, so I'll be in my room." I locked my car and went through the backyard so that I wouldn't have to pass by my mom or face any cops. A ladder rested right below my bedroom window and I climb up it. As soon as I get into my room I lock the door and close my curtains. Then, I open my backpack to start on my homework.
A half hour later there's a small knock at my door, "Beth? Can we talk? The police are gone now."
I stand up and open my door, letting my mom in. She sits on the edge of my bed while I take a seat back at my desk where I left my homework. Her cheeks are still streaked with tears.
"What is it? What did you want to talk about?" I continue my homework while talking.
My mom sounds desperate, "Beth, I guess you really don't know what happened."
Her words instantly cause me to crumble out of my chair and crawl to my mom, shaking. Tremors run through my entire body and I cling to her. I scream for what seems like forever as the pain of my shattered heart pours through me. My breathing is sharp and my vision starts to darken.
"Mom, just lie to me, please. Just tell me that everything is going to be alright. I just need to get through tonight."
My mom tries to comfort me by running her fingers through my hair or placing her hand on my shoulder, but both give me little peace. Her words are sobs and it takes her longer to speak than it should.
"It's going to be alright, Beth." She lets out a small cry and quickly leaves the room.
My tears run dry and eventually my body feels worn and drained. I get dressed and climb into bed, leaving my homework undone. My eyelids are heavy and I allow them to close. My thoughts start to fade and my mind begins to darken.
I don't plan on waking up, because it's going to be alright for tonight. As long as I don't wake up, it's still tonight.
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