Forever Seventeen

by Lizzie Bowen

  Chapter Three: Empty

  I woke up in the morning with my head throbbing. I guess it had been hurting from all the screaming. My phone was buzzing beside me. I reached out to see a new message in my Imessage chat room from Angela.

  Angela: Did u see???

  Me: See what?

  Angela: ALL4 U IS HOLDING AUDITIONS!!! :-O :) ;)

  Me: I'm not going

  Angela: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?! WHO R U AND WUT HAVE U DONE WITH MY BFF?

  Me: They would never pick me anyway

  Angela: U know that's not true. Quit lying 2 urself

  Me: They would laugh

  Angela” They'd be laughing at themselves 4 not finding u sooner

  Me: I'll think about it

  Angela: U bet u will!!!

  Me: R u on ur way 2 school?

  Angela: Yes :( it won't b the same without u :'(

  Me: I miss u

  Angela: Same here :(

  Me: Im an idiot

  Angela: 4 punching those jerks? I say rite on, girl! I was proud that u stood up 4 urself

  Me: Yeh, but wut now?

  Angela: Idk where will u go?

  Me: Idk

  Angela: U will figure something out. U r a smart girl. I g2g now. Class time :P

  Me: Have fun

  Angela: Sure

  Angela has logged offline.

  She believed in me... even when I couldn't seem to believe in myself. I was very lucky to have someone like her in my life. I don't guess I had ever really told her that though. I opened my laptop. All4U's image still lingered on my screen. I stared at the audition dates, then back at their flawless faces. They were very handsome young men. Going on tour with them wouldn't be half bad. I shook that ridiculous thought out of my head.

  “They'd never be interested in you, Sam.” I told myself out loud.

  “No one could ever love you, Sam...” Those words that the boys at my school said lingered in my mind. I shook my head vigorously as if shaking the memory away with it. For some reason, a little ray of hope shone through me and gave me the feeling maybe the All4U boys weren't so shallow.

  I reached for my laptop. I did something really brave that I hadn't done in quite some time. I logged into my Face Book account. I stared at the log-in page for quite some time before typing in my password and user-name. I had been very close to shutting it down many times because of the horrible things that people said. I sighed... did I really want to do this? I had to know what the opinion was on me right now. So... I logged in. I looked at my latest post. It was a selfie of me with my hair done really nice and practically flawless makeup. It was at our last school dance. I went alone... of course. But it didn't bother me. I felt beautiful that night and I had a great time with Angela. The comments on the post were enough to sicken any human being.

  You're possibly the fattest, ugliest, trashiest, most despicable, rude, and downright disgraceful thing I've ever laid eyes on... and you wonder why no one likes you.

  Ew. Gross... no. Why do you even try?

  Do me a favor and jump off a cliff

  I won't lie. The comments hurt, but somehow I managed to shrug them off. I came across a picture of me and all my old friends. My stomach tied in knots. I missed them. You see... there's a little personality flaw I've always had. I can't fight. As much as I'd like to be a warrior and fight for the ones I love I just can't. I simply don't have the guts. I guess it's easier to let them go and move on then to chase after them and have them turn you away. I just never wanted to come off clingy I guess so I just kind of watched as everything I loved slowly slipped through my fingers. I wanted to fight. I wanted to speak up. I wanted those people in my life, but... I wasn't strong enough to fight for it. Slowly, I lost touch with them all. Slowly... I watched as the ones who meant the most to me in the world became people I just used to know. The days where I used to sit at their lunch table became just distance and faded memories. My cell phone and computer were jammed full of pictures. Those pictures were now just little momentums of what used to be. They usually only came to talk to me when nobody else was around or when they were bored and had no one to talk to. They'd use me. But I just let them do it. A couple times, I really wanted to confront them of it, but I knew I never could. Even if I did they would probably only be seen with me because they felt pressured to be and I didn't want that kind of fake friendship. What killed me the most was I remember being with Izzy and a few other girls during summer camp one year. Our friend, Felicity had just moved away.

  “I really regret spending all my time with Matt and his gang.” Izzy sighed.

  “Me too.” The other girls voiced.

  “That's why I didn't roll with that crowd. I hung out with people who were really important to me.”

  “Good call.” Izzy said, patting my shoulder. She was a hypocrite. Right when school started back, she went right back to the crowd and forgot who was really important. I hated people like that. I would often check my instagram or Facebook account and see her with all her “real friends” and it broke my heart. That used to be all over her account, that used to be me laughing with her, and that used to be me always by her side.

  I distinctly remember one night, we were all having a sleepover. We all sat in one bunk bed and poured our hearts out. I talked about my brother leaving and how much he broke my heart when he did. We all cried together. We were still crying when we watched the sun come up into the sky. We often talked about that moment. It was a beautiful moment that we all cherished.

  “I feel so much closer to you when that happened.” Izzy said, one day. I smiled at the memory.

  “Me too.” I stated as I linked arms with her. But was it really that special after all? I mean, it was forgotten so quickly. That moment in time was forever captured in my heart, but to them it was just a stupid hormonal moment with the “used-to-be-cool” kid. They lied. They acted like they cared about my problems... like they cared about me, but they didn't. I stroked the blurry image of the screen of me and my friends. I sighed. This is why pictures were so important to me.

  I was really into photography. If I ever quit my dream of playing for a famous band, then I'd go into photography. I loved how it was a moment captured in time that lay at your fingertips. The thing about pictures is, even if the person in the picture is long gone or has changed the memory that the picture contains never changes. I stroked a fingertip gently across my computer screen when I came across a picture of Leslie and I.

  “Oh, how things have changed.” I scoffed to myself.

  It was when we were in about fifth grade. Everyone was friends back then. Beauty, clothes, weight, and popularity didn't even seem to exist in those days. We were just two pigtailed girls kicking soccer balls in a field at recess... nothing more too it.

  I'd look at pictures of people and their friends and jealousy would eat away at me. It would devour every inch of me. I longed to have a good friend that I could just sit and watch tv with. Someone that I could make fun videos with and just enjoy being around. I didn't have friends like that, but I really wish I did. I didn't really know why God had chosen me to be alone all the time. You would think after so much time being by yourself you'd get kind of used to it, but you never really do. It takes constant adjusting and coping. Sometimes I was too tired to adjust. Sometimes it felt like it would be a lot easier to give up... on everything.

  I cried as I came across a picture of Izzy and I. Tears burned my eyes. My Face Book page was full of them.

  “Whatever happened to this girl? Bet you lost her like you did your brother.”

  “HOW COULD YOU?!” I shrieked at the comment. It made me sick that someone would talk to me like that. But I read on.

  Go hide your caveman looking self in your closet and don't bother coming out until by some miracle God manages to make you somewha
t presentable.

  Oh, hey that's the girl that punched out my girl. Everyone hates you. If you ever even think of coming anywhere near this school, you're dead. And I mean that. I'll shoot you down if you even consider it. If they lock me up... who cares? It'll be worth it. You hurt Leslie... I'll hurt you. Bad.

  It was Leslie's boyfriend that wrote that. A sickening feeling began to well up in the pit of stomach. With trembling hands, I shut the laptop. I kinda felt like I might be sick. I went to my bathroom floor and slid down the wall. I took deep breathes trying to calm myself. I had never been threatened with my life before. Fear trickled down my spine and a feeling of sickness crawled into my stomach and burned like an ongoing flame inside me.

  This was my life. I didn't even really feel like I was living anymore. I felt like I was just going through the motions. Life had no purpose or excitement to it anymore. It was just... too much. My heart beat so fast that I thought the entire world could hear it drumming inside my chest. My life was so sad, boring, and without purpose. I needed this audition. I needed something real and exciting for once in my sorry life.

  “I'm doing this.” I said to myself, proudly. I clicked my laptop back on, covering my eyes at first so I couldn't see all the negative comments. Then I started googling All4U and their interest. I wanted to know the kind of music and style they liked so that I could play it for them. I searched, strummed, and practiced my audition for hours. For once, I felt like I was doing something resourceful with my life instead of the depressing slump I was used to living in. I looked in the mirror for a moment. I sighed.

  “I'm gonna fix you.” I said to my distorted reflection. I went into my mother's room and got all her fancy makeup. I stole her hair curler as well. I curled my hair to perfection I got little individual strands and curled them. They hung loosely by my face and framed my face, making it look full and beautiful. I applied blush to my cheekbones, swiped the mascara brush over my eyelashes, grazed my lids with eyeliner then, brushed some eyeshadow lightly onto the crease and lid of my eyes. I didn't look half bad. What was more important was, I didn't feel half bad either.

  I went downstairs. My mom glanced at me, then her head shot back and she looked at me again.

  “What have you got yourself all fancied up for?” She asked with a smile.

  “I wanna be pretty.” I murmured.

  “What was that, darling?” She asked.

  “I said I want to be pretty.” I said louder.

  “But, baby... you're beaut-” She began.

  “No, don't say that!” I cut her off. She looked surprised.

  “Why?' She questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Because you're lying.” I scoffed.

  “Sam, you don't need to be talking that way. I don't want to hear any child of mine speaking that way.” Mom corrected.

  “Then, I can't be your child because I don't feel that way about myself.” I said lowering my head.

  “You'll always be my child.... always my baby. Even if you don't want to be.” She said. I looked down.

  “Mom...” I said slowly.

  “Yes?” She replied.

  “I want out.” I said, avoiding eye contact.

  “Out of where?” She questioned, putting down her cooking utensils.

  “I want out of here. Out of this city, out of this town, out of this state, I just want out!” I said.

  “Well... I'm sorry you feel that way, baby girl.” She said softly.

  “But I have a way out.” I stated.

  “Okay then... How do except to do that?” She questioned. I handed her the laptop. She looked at me questioningly then glanced at the screen.

  “A band audition, huh?” She asked, after examining the screen for quite some time.

  “Yeah.” I replied.

  “Well, I'm going to need some details.” She stated. I filled her in on the details I had read.

  “Okay.” She said with a sigh.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean, okay you can go.” She stated.

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” I cried.

  “Of course I am.” She said.

  “I thought we'd argue about this for at least an hour.” I stated.

  “I'm tired of arguing with you, Sam.” She admitted.

  “Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!” I cried, throwing my arms around her neck.

  “You're welcome.” She said with a laugh.

  “You'll never know how much this means!” I squealed.

  “Besides, I think it's important to always chase your dreams. Sometimes, when you reach it you might realize the distance you ran to get their wasn't as far as you had expected.” My mother said.

  “Woah, that's deep.” I said. I gave her one last squeeze then I ran off into my room. That night, I drempt of rock-stardom and having my name beside theirs.

  The next morning, I woke up early and started a new song. The title was “God heals the broken.”

  I sang the lyrics as loudly as I possibly could and strummed with everything in me.

  “God heals the broken.” I whispered to myself. I did something I hadn't done in a very long time. I knelt beside my bed and prayed.

  “Dear Jesus, I really want this. I know, I know, I haven't really been very good to You. I've ignored You for the past few years, but in all do respect, Lord can you really blame me? I've kind of had everything taken from me. My friends, my pride... my brother. If you'll just give me this one chance to break away from all this pain I promise I'll be forever grateful. Please, please, please, pleease, Lord. I really want this. This right here is all I've ever wanted. I'll start reading my Bible again, I'll talk to You more often, I'll go be a missionary in Africa or whatever you want! I know You have the plans for my life all mapped out and maybe this isn't Your plan... but, maybe you could switch those plans around a little bit? I've been waiting for some sort of beautiful release for quite some time and I think I might have found it. If I do this, I'll do it for you. If there ever was a moment I needed you before it's now, God. I need you now... Amen.” I prayed.

  It actually felt really good to talk to God. Lately God had been very distant in my life. I still went to church every Sunday, went to youth group, and prayed at the dinner table. It just wasn't quite how it used to be though, you see? I used to walk into the church and my whole face would just light up. I'd get all giddy and hyper. My friends and I would just run around the church and down the halls. The parents hardly scolded us.

  They always smiled when I came running past. They thanked the Lord for a happy little girl like me. I was always known as the hyper, happy, and perky one... my, how things have changed. Now I was the outcast, the one people pitied, and the ugly one. Every time I walked through those church doors, something lit inside me, something that's very hard to describe. Sometimes the adults would tell me to pipe down, but usually I wouldn't because I was just too happy. I would absorb those moments of pure happiness, so that whenever I was upset I could just recall those moments of pure joy and the pain wouldn't be so bad. But now... church wasn't like that for me anymore. It was just void and empty now. I was empty.