Chapter 1 (post five)

Pre-note: Hey! Here's the ending of chapter one! Please leave feedback via comments! Thanks :)

Chapter one, section five:

The day I died, I was thinking “tomorrow.” I carried the rough drawing for my final piece in my left hand, my life in the form of a sketch book in my right. I thought, “I’ll say it tomorrow, I’ll show them tomorrow, I’ll pick one tomorrow.”

On the day I died, I was hit by a bus. Not literally, but in the sense that that I found out tomorrow wasn’t going to work anymore. My tomorrows had run out, although at the time I didn’t realize just how true that was.

I was rushed – each class I felt the minutes tick by as slowly as my final drawing was coming along; hidden underneath an English book one period, a biology text the next. But my thoughts weren’t on the drawing; they kept jumping back to the dress in my Art sketch book. It had been returned to me the end of that class with a comment: “I didn’t know you could draw so well! This is beautiful; I hope you’ve chosen to use it for your final. May I please use this in the Art Show next week?”

She needed an answer today. Should I let her use my rough sketch as a piece in the yearly art show, displayed to the whole student population as well as their parents, Thursday and Friday night, from 6 pm to 9 pm?

The first answer that came to my mind was, “No way!” but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to say yes.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow,” I mumbled as I walked through the hall, when suddenly I bumped into my art teacher.

“Annika! Will you let me put that sketch into the show tomorrow?”

“Ummm...” I muttered.

“Come find me in the art room!” And she was off, merged with swarms of ninth graders.

I was torn. Half of me wanted to run and catch her, tell her yes, and hand over my paintings rather than a simple rough outline. The other half wanted to run as well, except in the opposite direction, far away from teachers, decisions and the critical eye of peers.

Unconsciously, I chose the last option. I turned left and chose the East hallway; the fastest way to Fashion class. It’s strange to think that if I’d chosen the West hallway; my story would be very different today.  The East hallway was long and fairly narrow; to my left were rows of blue lockers and to my right was wall to ceiling glass. This huge window looks down onto the grounds behind our large school; the trees were a gorgeous shade of red making the grass seemed greener.

I came to a stop halfway down the hallway; there were people blocking the way, left to right. They were loud, and thickly packed; as I tried to squeeze by I was quickly stuck between a large student and the glass wall. I couldn’t see what was going on, which annoyed me, but I stayed quiet and waited for any sign of an opening.

Suddenly the crowd went deathly silent and backed away from whatever had been blocking the hall. I was forced against the glass of the window.

There was a loud “crack” noise, a gunshot I would learn later, although I didn’t understand at the time. All I knew was that the glass behind me shattered and gave away.

I felt my stomach drop as what was happening registered in my brain, but by then it was too late. I fell backwards.

 Tomorrow never works out the way you want it to. You want to make it easier; to make it less difficult. You’d be more prepared tomorrow, you tell yourself. ‘More time, more time, please,’ you say. But, even if it’s granted, the situation doesn’t improve. It only means a longer period of wondering, waiting and anticipating. When tomorrow comes, you’re no more prepared than you were yesterday, so you say, “Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow please,” and the cycle repeats itself. Until you run out of tomorrows, that is.

I don’t recall the fall from the third floor. I vaguely remember screams and cries. I tried to open my eyes once I was on the ground; tried and tried, but there was something between me and my physical being; something that stopped me from quite reaching the point of physically being alive; something that instead pulled me away. I lost consciousness. I didn’t walk towards any light; it was only darkness that came for me.