Toothie!

Alas, here she is in all of her glory, captured on film, TOOTHIE! My favorite fairy of all time! As a little girl, I dreamed of having my teeth fall out just so I could catch her leaving me crisp $2 bills underneath my warm pillow. In my minds eye, I imagined us frolicking together in the forrest she called her home, filled with fairies.

I imagined sitting in her miniature house, with her serving me hot cocoa with marshmallows, and showing me her secret stash of coins and such. I imagined looking around her closet filled to its brim with all kinds of sparkly objects, like gems, fairy dust, and coins.

I had heard from people older than I, that eventually the tooth fairy stops coming, and she fades into a memory. Sometimes I would cry at the thought, because Toothie meant so much to me. She had never harmed me, and was there every single time I had lost my precious baby tooth. I don't see her anymore, but she will always be my hero, even if I only spent a few years with her.

I am awake, unfortunately. I had a late night last night, partying ‘til six am and then realized I had school in two hours. I guess I was excited to see all of my friends and teachers again, but nonetheless, I am back at school, imprisoned by work, and consumed by sleep deprivation. Junior year is impressively different than sophomore year. Last year I would spend maybe an hour-and-a-half on homework, this year I am up until I fall asleep. My friends are still the same; we all laugh and chat in the court yard, telling great stories of our summers and weekend adventures. My friends are like coffee, they keep me up and happy. Most of my teachers have changed. The ones I have stayed with I am happy about, the new faces I am still glad to see. The people at school are great, the institution is great, it’s just the emotionally and physically draining act of doing homework that I am tired by. Ahh school.

A Fictional Fatalism

There we were. Six best friends ready to take on the world.We did everything together. Biking, hiking, playing, laughing, going to the movies, reading, sleepovers, and of course our favorite was ballet. Every Monday and Wednesday after preschool, us girls would pile into Gracie's (the blonde second right) minivan and we would pull on our tutus and play games like "sweet-and-sour" and the license plate game. I remember laughing and laughing until my stomach hurt and sometimes there were tears in my eyes. I may have been young, but I knew then, that it was rare to find people I could laugh and talk to with so much ease. I imagined us being friends for the rest of our lives, and the thought never failed to bring a smile to my face.

One Wednesday, I had a doctor's appointment. Unlike Monday's, Wednesday's dance class would start at 5:30 sharp. For some bizarre reason, my appointment was scheduled late in the afternoon so I would either have to miss dance class or come late. I absolutely loved dance, so I begged my nanny to let me come late. But by coming late I would not ride in the car with my friends like I usually did each week. My appointment ended sooner than I expected, and I got to Ballet right on time. When my five friends were not there, I figured that maybe they stopped and got cookies (like we sometimes did), but my friends never arrived. I left with a large pit in my stomach, this was before cell phones and I had no way to reach any of them. It took me a very long time for me to fall asleep that night, I tossed and turned, anxious to know where they had been.

I had never been to a funeral before, but before I knew it I had gone to six in one week. Gracie's mom Susan, had a drug problem in college, but she had gone to rehab and had been sober for almost fifteen years. But that Wednesday afternoon she relapsed, my friends piled into the car with this woman, a thoughtless task, and the ride ended their sweet, young lives. The pain I went through realizing that I would never laugh, or dance, or talk to any of them again, was absolutely unbearable. They are gone and I am not. I still find it ironic that a doctor saved my life, not because I was sick, but because I just needed a physical.

I quit dance right away, and never looked back. I have made friends since then, but none have been as close to me as those five were. I see their families from time-to-time. The six of us loved going to the top of twin peaks and shouting, "that's my city!" But now all I have left are the memories, never failing to forget them when I am in the car, or watching others dance, and especially when staring out at my city scape. I don't want to forget them, just the pain, maybe I will, maybe I won't, only time will tell.

Now and Then--A Family Fiction

The photo front and center is one of the few photos I have of my mother, father, brother, and me. At one point we smiled together, ate together, went to the movies together, and took pictures together. But because of my parents somewhat recent divorce, this is only a photo, left in a box by my bed, and only taken out when necessary.
The photos on the side are of my mother and brother. The two used to be very close, now they are both tired and unattached, merose, and worn. Despair clouds their faces as they think about the way it was, and how different it is today.