Authors: Yessi Smith
“Of course I do,” I tell Ann, because I know that’s what she wants to hear. But how would finding him fix me? There’s no closure for something that I have close to no recollection of happening.
“They want me to work with a police sketch artist.”
“And?” she prompts.
“I don’t think it’ll work. I don’t remember what he looks like.”
“You don’t, but maybe your mind does.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I tell her, resigned to the fact that I will be working with a sketch artist. Because along with my memories, I have also lost my free will. I am nothing more than a shell of the person that once resided in me, and I do whatever others tell me to do.
Shortly after our visit, Ann returns just as the sketch artist arrives and I can’t help but wonder whether she has my room monitored. How else would she know the exact moment this man arrived? The less frantic, more sensible part of me rationalizes that she is probably working with the police. You know, to help me get better so they can find the bad guy.
The sketch artist introduces himself as Derrick and I fully assess him from my bed. Typical white-boy with a blond crew cut and blue eyes. No, scratch that, he has green eyes. He’s tall, strongly built, and speaks with a lazy drawl that does not lessen his threatening demeanor. Until he smiles and exposes his perfectly imperfect teeth. I decide to like him based on his slight imperfection and find myself smiling back at him.
I force myself to shake his hand as I introduce myself and beam at Ann when screams don’t escape from my throat when contact is made. Progress, right?
Poppa helps me keep my hospital gown closed in the back so that I can make my way to a table without exposing myself to everyone. Not that my parachute sized granny panties would be much of an exposure.
Fancy panties, a new haircut, and self defense lessons make the top of my to-do list once I am able to leave this place.
Derrick instructs me to close my eyes and begin describing whatever comes to my mind. But nothing is there. So I close them tighter until white spots appear behind my eyelids, which is a nice diversion from all the darkness.
“She knows how to draw,” Poppa tells Derrick. “Let her do it.”
I take the pencil and paper away from Derrick and tell myself I know how to draw. I’m not sure if I believe Poppa’s words, but after a few minutes pass, I begin to watch my fingers work and realize I do indeed know how to draw. It’s a surreal, out of body experience that makes my heart pound loudly in my chest and ears. I do not let my mind dwell on what I’m doing, but hope that my subconscious serves me right.
Done, I look at my work and find a familiar face looking back at me from the paper. But I don’t feel the fear I expected to find when I looked into my captor’s face. Instead, I grin and show the drawing to Derrick who shakes his head at me, clearly amused. I smile to myself and can’t help but wonder if in my convoluted mind I actually believe Chris Carrabba has left fame and stardom just to abduct me.
Happy with my drawing, I toss it to the side and get a new piece of paper that I quickly start drawing on. Poppa takes the drawing and I hear him chuckle.
“You always did have a thing for that boy,” he tells me and laughs again.
I’m so engrossed in my next drawing that Derrick’s laughter scares me. I look up at him, happy to see he didn’t notice my sudden anxiety.
“What else can you draw?” He smiles at me, a non-threatening big brother type of smile that I hardly have time to return.
“Wait and see,” I respond just as curious and quickly go back to work.
After a few moments have passed, I suspect I have a healthy appetite for good music when I see Kurt Cobain’s eyes forming beneath my pencil. I notice Derrick busily sketching next to me while Poppa has retreated back to his chair.
“Where’s Ann?” I ask no one in particular.
“She wasn’t amused by your drawings,” Poppa tells me and I laugh, but stop myself. I didn’t realize I actually knew how to laugh and the sound feels foreign coming out of my throat.
“Don’t mind her. I wanna see what else you got in there.” Derrick winks at me and points his pencil to my head.
“Not much,” I tell him dryly, but smile not wanting to break the little bit of camaraderie I’ve found in my sketch artist.
We continue to draw next to each other, frenzied movements of our hands as we go from one piece of paper to the next. We are close enough that I can feel his breath on my skin, but not so close that I’m uncomfortable. The calm silence has harmoniously overtaken our room and I no longer jump when Derrick laughs at our renditions of artists we’ll probably never meet.
There’s peace here, reminding me that even the worst of storms have a time of quiet tranquility before they destroy everything in their wake.
Something Sweet
By MJ Morphis
Summer 2007
I’m getting ready for the last senior party before everyone heads off to college. I normally don’t go to these types of parties, or any parties really. I’m making an exception tonight though because I feel it’s time to actually do something out of my comfort zone. Tonight I
won’t worry
about consequences. I will do whatever I want, whenever I want, and with
whomever
I want. I’m eighteen years old and tired of trying to please everyone with being “the good girl”. My ex-boyfriend, Guy, of four years broke up with me last week because he ‘didn’t have time for me.’” I guess he had enough time for, Faith, who he had sex with later that night. Yeah, of course I was sad and hurt at first, but now I’m just pissed that I wasted so much time on him.
My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter breaking me from my thoughts.
Jessica:
Are you ready yet?
Me:
Almost. Five minutes.
I look at the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Normally I just try to look decent enough not to scare people, but tonight I’m going for hot. I left my long blonde hair down and decided to straighten it versus going with my natural wavy look. My eye shadow is a smoky grey and I applied so many coats of waterproof mascara I lost count. It helped to bring out my blue-green eyes so it was worth it. I pull down my little V-neck, black dress for about the tenth time since I put it on. How can girls wear dresses like this and still manage to function without flashing the whole world?
Another annoying buzz.
Jessica:
Hurry up boo. We’re already late!!!!
Me:
Chill. Walking out now.
“Mom, I’m leaving. See ya later,” I say as I peek into her room.
She smiles up from the book she’s reading. “Okay, sweetie. Have fun and be careful.”
My mom is the best. She pretty much lets me do whatever I want.
As I walk out to Jes’ blue Ford truck, I can already hear the radio blasting MiMS’ “This Is Why I’m Hot”. I laugh silently and open her passenger door.
“Damn, Ainsley!” she screams, while turning down the music. “You’re seriously going to start some shit tonight.”
I give her a confused glance. “Stop being dramatic, Jes.” I sigh, and flip my hair over my shoulder. There’s no way she know that before we even get to the party.
She
rolls
her eyes. “You look freakin’ hot. Just watch. This is your first time being single since ninth grade. Every guy there is going to try to hit that before you leave.”
“Oh my God, did you really just say ‘hit that’?” I giggle.
“Unfortunately that probably includes that prick, Guy. I heard Faith has already left for Florida State, so he’ll be looking for someone to fuck tonight,” she adds.
I
flinch
at her words. “Whatever. I wouldn’t touch him again if
he was
the last person on earth. I’m going out to have a good time with you. That’s all.”
She smiles wickedly at me before backing out of the driveway. My heart immediately beats faster. Jes rarely smiles like that, but when she does it’s never good for me.
“Jes, just spit it out!”
She briefly
glances
in
my direction, her smile is still scary as hell. “Well, I heard Greyson changed his mind and decided to come to the party. I’m just wondering how long it’ll take before you give in
to
those dimples of his.” She chuckles and turns the music back up as if she didn’t just drop that huge atomic bomb on me.
My heart starts to beat so fast and hard I swear I
can
hear it over the ridiculously loud music playing in her truck. Greyson Blevins
is
the hottest guy
I’ve
ever seen. His hair is cut in a short black Mohawk and he has the most
intense
green eyes, but nothing
can
beat his perfect smile – it’s impossible to resist. His lips are full and kissable and when he smiles, his dimples make you see stars.
I’ve
had a crush on him for as long as I
can
remember. When I moved to Tampa in eighth grade he was the first to befriend me. We were inseparable until Guy asked me out. I said yes to Guy because while Greyson was nice to me, he never acted as if he was interested in anything more than being friends. Guy
is
the exact opposite of Greyson. He
looks
like an Abercrombie model with his blond spiked hair and baby blue eyes. When Guy and I started dating, Greyson acted as if I no longer existed. I missed his friendship but I tried not to let it bother me. Even though I was happy with Guy, every time I saw Greyson with another girl, my heart broke just a little bit more. I would never be what he wanted and I needed to get over that.
I made the mistake of telling Jes this during one of our girl nights. She never liked Guy and always tried to convince me that I deserved better. I just brushed it off. Guy could be really charming, but as time went on he started changing into a demanding and selfish prick who apparently cheated on me more than one occasion.
I
take
some deep breaths and
tell
myself not to get worked up. It’s not like Greyson ever wanted me so why would tonight be any different?
We
pull
up to Ashley’s house and I
try
getting out of the truck without flaunting my black cheekie style panties to the few people standing outside drinking and talking
. “
Party Like A Rockstar”
is
playing when we
walk
in the door. Jes immediately
starts
jumping up and down before she
leans
in to scream in my ear, “This is going to be epic!” I
laugh
out loud and
nod
my head.
Jes is such a beautiful girl and tonight she looks stunning in her blood red dress. Her ebony complexion, bright smile and the purple contacts she’s wearing, she’s drop dead gorgeous. Her body is what men dream of, medium build with an ass that demands a second look.
This will be my only chance at being a little reckless since college
isn’t
going to be easy. I have to make sure I keep up my GPA or I’ll lose my scholarships.
With my mom being a single mother I can’t burden her with student loans
. I’m only going to get this one chance and I refuse to screw it up.
As Jes and I
walk
around the house, I
notice
everyone staring at me and whispering. This is exactly why I hate going to shit like this. People are always judging you, but tonight I’m not going to let it bother me at all.
Just as the soon as I finish my thought, Greyson walks in with his younger brother, Hayes and Hayes’ best friend, Talon. My
mouth drops open and my eyes widen.
Damn it, why
does
he have to be so freakin’ hot?
Greyson is wearing a tight black shirt and worn jeans that hang loose on his hips in that sexy way. He looks mouthwatering. I manage to drag my eyes away from him and move them to the two party crashers at his side. Of course Hayes and Talon would crash the senior party.
Those two are always looking for trouble
.
Luckily for them,
one glance at their playful faces is all you need to forget what they had done wrong.
The three Blevins brothers
have
always been good looking. Thomas
is
two years older than Greyson and Hayes is two years younger. I’m actually surprised Thomas isn’t here also. Normally he is always up for a party, I guess he really was taking school seriously. I’d heard through our mutual friends that he was taking his studies even more serious than usual now that he was trying to get into medical school.
Greyson
scans
the room slowly before
his eyes finally come to rest on me
. His
gaze
locks
with
mine and he
lifts
his left eyebrow in appreciation. That’s when I
notice
he pierced it since graduation.
And just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.
I
watch
his eyes slowly
leave my face, falling to my chest and waist, then going down my
long tanned legs. My legs
look extra
-long tonight thanks to the heels
I’m
wearing. His eyes
dart
back up to my face after what
feels
like hours, but in reality
is
probably only a matter of seconds. The look he
gives
me
has
my stomach clenching.
Before I know it, his look
turns
into what appears to be anger before storming
away from
me. Seconds later I realize why.