Irretrievable

It’s funny how when one feels the notion of guilt their mind fills with bits and pieces of vivid regret, the wishes and wants to redo or undo a thing of the irretrievable past. It is a barrage of missed opportunity and regretful remorse, all sparked by that tiny shiver of uncertain doubt that so subtly creeps through the depths of your consciousness. We are an inconceivably complex race, yet at an individual level we are as minute as the flap of the butterfly’s wing…I think about Layla from time to time. I did not love her. I doubt she loved me. In fact, I often doubt the point of this memory, as it means nothing, not now, not ever again. It’s a tale been told one thousand times before: of woe and regret. But I am different. I have experienced the sorrow of unique form that strikes each differently than the rest. And of course, it has changed me, for that change is impossible to avoid. To refuse it would be foolish, to fight it is as ill-advised, to cope with it is easier, but to embrace it is difficult.

I remember those few months or so when she arrived. They were nice, I’ll admit. Yet, at the time I had just begun growing into the indifferent state of mind I have been in ever since. It simply occurred to me one day the absurdity of our daily routines. At the time I was a senior in high school. The day is still picturesque in my mind…

Chapter 1

I sat with a peculiar lack of purpose in a room full of bustling bodies striving to accomplish something. I didn't know what either of them was attempting to achieve, and frankly I didn't care. So I sat with my head rested upon the cool, unforgiving wall, feet propped nicely on the small basket under the seat in front of me.

A girl, Maddie, was obnoxiously voicing her opinion of the amount of work she had neglected for the past week and now had to complete for tomorrow's classes. What a fool. Phil sat with a dumb look on his face, unaware of how annoyed he was with Maddie's ridiculous rant. How can he just sit there and take her barrage of insolence? Jim Morrison's voice crept into my head, "Learn to forget. Learn to forget." He was right. Those two weren't important, virtually meaningless. History class at its finest.

Ronnie asked me a question, or at least I think it was directed at me. He was facing my general direction when I heard some mumbled sounds match the movement of his lips. But to be honest I didn't want to make the effort to break my silent content, pause my music and force my brain to comprehend his inquiry. With my silence, he stood up and walked to the teacher's desk upon his request.

I thought it was going to rain. The sky had a purple premonition about it, warning us not to step foot outside. The danger of rain was present. But of course each and every one of us would defy Mother Nature’s warning. And of course we would all be soaked in a heavenly downpour as we scrambled to reach our cars and flee home. And of course most would bitch about the inconvenience. Girls would cry over the ruin of their unnecessary makeup and crafted hairdos. Guys would fear for their new shoes, inevitably to be scuffed some time or another. They're all ignorant. They had fair warning.

Ronnie shuffled back to his seat, returning with a worried look on his face. For a moment I felt the heat of guilt creep up my back. Perhaps his face would not be so tense had I answered that question of his. No. That's ridiculous. Whatever he asked me could have been asked to another. He could have found his answer without me. It was not my problem.

The bell rang and everyone began preparing, on cue, to leave for the day. I slipped my backpack over my back and slowly made towards the door. A group of my classmates passed in front of me just before I reached the door. Essentially they cut me off, unaware, really, that I had been standing there. I was annoyed that I had been so casually disregarded. But they turned left as I went right and I quickly forgot about it.

Chaos. That was the hallway. Pure chaos. The erratic path chosen by each individual was utterly unpredictable. One kid cut to his right to dodge an ignorant senior much larger than him. As he cut right another girl cut left to avoid the group of chatting girls standing comfortably, conveniently, in the hallway's center. The two messy children proceeded to collide. Both were taken aback, apologized, looked at the other with embarrassed red cheeks and continued on their respective ways. I have no idea why I am dwelling on this scene. It seemed...it was poetic, almost. Those two would probably never meet again, yet the obvious connection they briefly shared was significant enough. Too bad it would not be indulged.

I stepped out the door into the gusty wind of the impending storm. My path would take me across the school's track to reach the lot where all the cars were parked, as if they themselves were forced to attend school every day, and sit for seven hours in an arranged pattern, as we all did. Of course they don’t, though.

As I had predicted a chilly wave of tear drop rain began to fall upon our herd. Some shrieked, others cursed. I remained unchanged, thinking nothing of it. A girl in front of me began to quicken her pace to beat the downpour. As she rounded the bend into the lot her clumsy legs failed to hold her up. She slipped and fell in an awfully awkward manner. She lay in a seeming astonishment of what had just happened. She was soaked in water as well as the red hue of embarrassment. I passed her, lying there, and got in my car. I left just as it really began to pour.

The drive home was stupid. The rain let up after a while but the sky remained overcast. It could have been sunny for all I cared. A rainy day doesn’t mean I should be in a rainy mood. I enjoyed its lack of intensity, the amalgamation of wispy cloud amongst purple sky, lulling me to sleep. I didn’t even really notice that I had probably caught every red light to be caught. It didn’t matter. I got home eventually and when I did I laid down on my bed. Just for a quick minute...

Chapter 2

My eyes opened reluctantly, and it took me a minute to see clearly. I found myself surveying the floor of my room. My head was pounding and I sat up to gain some sort of stability. I headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. I could feel my disheveled hair flap about as the wind’s resistance pushed it backwards. There was a note on the counter instructing me to go to the grocery store. Fine. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.

The store was cold. Surprisingly cold. I appreciated the heat; it was embracing, it enveloped you and carried you in its soft warmth. The cold pointed you out like an intruder in its territory. Ironically I was supposed to pick up ice cream, but how much colder could it really get? As I searched inside the store’s large freezer, I noticed a girl staring at me. I paid her no attention. Why should I? I was preoccupied with not getting frost bite in a grocery store, anyways. Finally I found what I was looking for and shut the door, only to come face to face with that girl. She had a snaked smile across her lips. I did not return it.

“Do you know your hair looks ridiculous?” she asked. My hair? My hair. I had forgotten my nap and its detrimental effects on the order of my hair. I’m sure I did look rather ridiculous like that, but really everyone looks ridiculous, all the time, to someone. I did not feel embarrassed

“Thank you.” I replied, and walked on by her to purchase the ice cream and go home. She called out after me saying I should look in a mirror before going out in public. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. I paused as if I might say something to her, but decided I had nothing to say. She was right. And I continued without looking at her again.

At home I stayed in my room. I had no desire to converse with my family. I had things to do and they just weren’t involved in them. Although I should have been completing my assignments for the next day, I chose to watch tv. Homework could wait. But television is crap, it has no meaning whatsoever. I went to sleep. But I woke in the middle of the night because the light from the bathroom was intruding upon my darkened sleep. I saw light seeping under the door to my sister’s room so I called to her and she appeared in the hallway. I told her to turn off the light, and she scolded me for being lazy.

I was awoken in the morning in a rather unpleasant manner. My father was yelling, sort of, that I never listened and that this was the third time he’d told me to get up and I still had not. From what I recall it was the first time I’d been spoken to. I didn’t understand his anger. I did understand, however, that it was time to get up. So I went through the motions of my repetitive morning routine and not soon enough left the house. I liked my drives to school. I was alone to think about nothing. I would often let my mind wonder, conscious only enough to drive sufficiently. The rest of my mind was devoted to whatever random memory crossed it or sight that caught my eye. It’s always nice to embrace the realm of thought that is nothingness, in which you trace a cycle of ideas that ultimately lead to an inconclusive conclusion. It was a nice warm up for my school day.

I climbed out of the car into a chilly morning. As I began walking I picked my head up to see whose face belonged to the pair of feet walking towards me, as we headed from opposite directions for the track to get to the school. I recognized him, and I think he was about to say something as we made eye contact, but I quickly turned my eyes away. The wasted breath of ‘good morning’ and ‘how are you’ was just not worth it. I preferred not to talk with him. I think it was at that moment that I decided I would try to keep my eyes turned slightly down, so as not to make eye contact with anyone, just in case I knew them, forcing me to have a conversation I really did not want to have. Maybe they’d think of me in deep thought, or maybe just disturbed. I didn’t care. Just so long as they knew that I was not interested in them.

I began running at that point. I flew into a sprint down the straight away, blowing by those slowly trudging along. I thought it’d be fun to just run while the rest walked, to see how they’d react. I’m sure they considered my spectacle unnecessary, because it was, but I chose to do it. I chose to do it anyways, despite the whispers of disapproval and judgment. Yes, that was me running along the track. Yes, I knew I looked odd doing so. I felt a freedom about myself and it felt good. Indeed, it was already shaping up to be a good day.

My second class of the day was where things became of interest to me. The first class had been as dull as the last hundred. But in my second class something unexpected, something unfathomable, something completely absurd happened. There was a new student...she had recently moved from Illinois and we were “so lucky to have her with us” is what my teacher said. The way my seat was oriented in the classroom my back was naturally facing him. I stayed that way.

“Hello everyone,” rang a voice that was not my teacher’s, “I am Layla. It’s nice to meet you.” When I heard her voice emanate through the room I swear to you the hairs on my neck stood like soldiers do upon the arrival of their general and my eyes opened wide. Layla was the girl in the grocery store who told me my hair was ridiculous. I recognized her voice even though it was slightly less confident than in the store. I turned to face the rest of the classroom and my eyes fell upon her. Despite my encounter with her the day before, it was like seeing her for the first time. I suppose I really hadn’t paid much attention earlier due to my general lack of interest in the whole scene. I wasn’t necessarily intrigued by the girl herself, but more so by the mere chance that this very girl would be the same one I saw in a store because I happened to be the one in the family to go pick up ice cream. The way of the world is a mystery not worth trying to solve.

Her eyes began shifting around the room, taking in the people she’d be seeing everyday for the next four or five months. Her smile wasn’t a snaky one like before; it was more awkward and inviting. Her eyes fell on mine and they were about to pass to the next pair when she halted herself and fixated on me for a few seconds longer. Her smile widened a bit. I guess she recognized me as I had her. She gave a subtle wave and I returned it. I don’t remember if I was smiling or not. She sat down again across the room and our teacher began his lesson. I returned my back to the rest of the class. Jenna, an intriguing individual, asked me in an overly dramatic whisper, “You know her?!” I only looked at her. I didn’t confirm or deny. She seemed angry at my response. I didn’t know why it mattered so much to her. I put my headphones in to let her know I did not care.

The bell rang and I left quickly. I made my way down to the main hallway and out into the courtyard where I usually ate lunch. I was only the third person to arrive so I was the first to sit at the table. I put my head down and listened to the music. After a good ten minutes I realized no one had sat down still. I looked up and saw someone I knew. He mouthed the words ‘too cold’ to me. I noticed I was in the shade and it was, after all, only about fifty degrees outside - pretty cold for Floridians. I just put my head back down and didn’t worry about it. Yet out of the corner of my eye I saw someone sit down next to me. I was somewhat annoyed that they had sat so close when the entire table was available. I looked up to see who it was. Who else but Layla?

“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked. I said it was fine, as long as she didn’t mind the cold like the rest of my friends. She reminded me she was from Illinois and that this was barely cold for her. Whatever. She told me I looked better with combed hair. I chuckled and thanked her. We ended up talking the whole lunch period, about Illinois and Florida, and her, not so much I. I felt no real need to discuss myself. When lunch ended I agreed to help her find her next class.