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Remembering Sunday

Seven: Just A Kid

"I'll be up here if you need me!" I called to my dad as I kicked my bedroom door open with my foot and slid into the decently sized space. Not really bothering to wait for any acknowledgment that he'd even heard me.

A smile found its way to my lips as I sucked in a deep breath and looked around the room. Feeling content inside its four walls as I made my way over and flopped onto my bed. Now happy and full after the home cooked meal my father had made for the two of us just before, and just thinking on that day. While I hadn't planned on waking up when I did, I don't think even if I'd woken up on my own I would have anticipated that day to go as it had.

But thinking back on it, I was pleased with the events that had transpired. And in comparison, to the day before, and all those that had succeeded it I'd remembered quite a lot. From owning the car to meeting Alex, to solidifying my hope that I had more than just him as a friend. Not that Alex seemed to be a bad friend from the fragments I'd collected, but it was reassuring, to say the least, that he wasn't the only person I'd found to deal with me in the four-plus years I'd spent in this town.

I smiled to myself as I went through all that I had discovered about my past. I really was making progress and I was happy that come Friday I would be able to report all of this with a smile to my doctor. It's still not easy to forget who you are, but when things come back to me I've learned I have to take them in strides no matter how big or small a step they may be. Slowly but surely, I was inching my way back to myself and I should be grateful for that. And I think I really was trying to be.

Folding my hands over my stomach, I looked around at the varying decorations which littered my walls. I hadn't really taken the time to soak in anything I'd chosen to hang on them the day before. And while I wasn't trying to make anything come to me as I examined them now, I found it interesting to just acknowledge all I'd collected in high school and summers past. The majority were poorly taped drawings and band posters, but there was the occasional photograph or picture frame scattered into the mix. Nothing I could clearly make out from my place sprawled on my back.

My fingertips had begun to tap a beat by my bellybutton when my eyes scanned across to the other side of my room where they caught sight of a poster I instantly recognized. The large square print captured the album art to Jimmy Eat World's album Bleed American. And even though I couldn't quite put my finger on any song titles, or what it even sounded like. I knew I loved that album somehow. And I smiled.

But That wasn't what truly captured my attention about it.

The poster was taped at just the top two corners, clear scotch tape pressed into the wall I'm sure would destroy the paint if I ever tried to remove it. And the air flowing in through the window just beside it was lifting the bottom of this poster up. Letting it flutter softly in the light steady breeze.

I squinted at the wall being exposed with every gust of wind, as something just barely visible in its center peaked my curiosity. Just enough to pull me into the sitting position by my intrigued mind. I slowly clambered to my feet and shuffled on my socks across the carpet to the poster and lifted it up, exposing a rather decently sized indent in the drywall where the gray flecks had chipped off, letting the light hit the white chalk-like material which lay underneath.

"The Hell?" I whispered softly to myself as I ran my hand down the dent, pulling it away and rubbing the white dust between my fingers. Staring back and forth between my now dirty hand and the indentation. I felt something quickly stab at the side of my head which caused me to cringe.

I squinted at my wall, lips contorting for a second as I stared before reaching up and touching it again. The small seemingly innocent act suddenly caused that dull stab to be dragged violently through the entirety of my body. From my finger, up through the deep folds of my brain and down to my feet, the pain coursed through me. Stumbling back a step or so, I managed to catch myself and reach up to grasp my head. A memory taking me over and sucking me down a black hole.

A sound mixed between a sob and a wince ripped through my throat as I choked down another swig of the whiskey. Letting the crimson liquid, I'd swiped from my father's precious liquor cabinet burn long jagged holes in my throat as it crawled its way down to my stomach.

The only other sound filling my room beside my violent sniffles was the crunching and cackling of papers and letters beneath my feet as I paced around the space. I lifted the thick glass bottle to my lips again, wiping the hot tears that streamed down my face from sight with my free hand. Not caring how mad my father would be to find the bottle missing and empty beneath my bed.

Maybe if I was lucky he'd actually kill me this time. Then I wouldn't have to feel this way.

I let out an innate hiss as the whiskey went down and I kicked the empty bottle of Smirnoff I'd finished long ago at my feet. Sending it flying across the room and rolling under my dresser. Everything was slowly beginning to spin around me. But whether it was from the copious amounts of alcohol I'd consumed or just the anger and hurt flooding my overworking brain, I wasn't certain.

I took one last swig for the moment and kicked some more of the papers beneath me, sending them fluttering around in the still cold air which was spilling through the window by my side. I glared down at the stack of letters and photographs spread across my cream-colored carpet. The moonlight from outside catching the edge of a single framed photo causing it to glisten so bright even I could see it through tear clouded eyes.

"Oh, you fucking bitch." I spat, reaching down and picking it up in a fowl swoop. Holding it now, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, just letting the glass bottle roughly bang against my cheekbones.

I couldn't feel a thing anymore anyway. I was numb.

My chest was heaving up and down I'd been crying so hard for so long. Completely unable to catch breaths between the hefty swigs I'd been forcing back as I stared, sniffling at the frame. Inside, sat a photo of me and my mother, I remembered exactly the day it was taken. Clothed in the most beautiful frilly pink dress with small white polka dots. My mother stood behind me knotting my hair into a stumpy French braid. It was my fifth birthday.

But all I could see now was what she'd scratched across the glass in a skipping red sharpie before she threw it in the box with all the others. Shipping them off for me to receive on this very day.

'THE LAST DAY I EVER LOVED YOU' was written now in the same handwriting I'd always received on little love-filled notes in my lunch box. Now, it scrawled a proclamation that in her eyes I was no longer considered her child. Exactly ten years after the original photo was taken.

A sob ripped through me, and I fell to my knees amidst everything else she'd deemed useless to hold onto back in New England. Everything and anything that was related to me. Chocking and coughing now I cried, unable to move for a moment as my heart began to shred itself into nothing within my chest. My only solution then was to press the lip of the bottle to my own, kissing it in an attempt to fill the empty cavern my heart once held with the scorching hot whiskey.

I placed the bottle down slowly, my other hand still clutching the frame for dear life as I struggled to push myself back to my feet. Knees trembled and knocked together with every step as I staggered to my bed where I'd thrown the house phone. Not knowing what I was actually trying to achieve or get at, I picked it up and began to dial a number I'd once known so well and loved so much. I pressed it to my ear and listened to the empty dial tone as I swayed on my feet.

Four... Five... Six times it rang as I counted. The scowl on my face growing deeper and deeper the longer I stood. Till finally a click escaped between my heavy breaths, and the automated track of her answering machine began to swirl through my ear canal. Mindlessly my mouth fell open and an Earth-shattering screech ripped out as I dropped the phone to the floor. The back popping off and skidding onto the letters.

My mind and heart were racing. Against me, against one another. I couldn't take it. My head was screaming at me, at my lungs, at my heart, at my sobs. A strangled whimper left me and without even thinking, I whipped the frame I'd still been clutching across the room and into my wall.

Without even flinching, I watched as though in slow motion as the frame collided with the drywall. Glass shattered and sprayed through the air like fireworks display before cascading to the floor in a glistening mess. All that matched my whimpers was the echoing boom of the wooden frame splintering and spilling to the carpet.

I glared at the mess I'd made of my wall and my floor; expression unwavering and unapologetic as finally silent tears continued to escape my eyes and pour down my cheeks. I had no intention of moving. The smallest bit of release had eased off my shoulders at the sight of glass dancing to the floor. I would have been content in standing there and staring down with clenched fists till the sun rose and my father came home.

But the universe, as always had other plans.

Right on cue, my small silver cell phone began to violently ring and vibrate on the nightstand behind me. I didn't have to look to know exactly who it was, or even what time it had been. And had I bothered to, I would have been right on the money with my hostile assumption. It was precisely 12:01 AM on April 12th, 2003. I was officially fifteen. I'd been expecting that call excitedly all afternoon. And now I wanted more than anything for that phone to halt its obnoxious sounds and die on the spot.

Only I knew it wouldn't. I knew he'd assume I was asleep and keep calling till morning came in attempts to wake me from the slumber I wasn't even in. And I couldn't think with that damned ringing going on.

I turned almost too quickly on my unsteady feet and snatched it from the stand, flipping the small grey device open with brute force.

"HAPPY BIRTHDA-"

"What?" I barked down the phone, cutting him off. My throat thick with whiskey and tears that had rubbed it raw, making me flinch at the sound of my own harsh tone.

For a second, he said nothing. Seemingly listening to the blended sounds of sniffles and sighs escaping my mouth and sliding down the phone line. "Dee?" He called, concern filling his words. "what's wrong?"

I pursed my lips and looked around the mess I'd made of my room. Physically feeling my eyes starting to burn again as red-hot tears pooled in my lower lids, threatening to spill any second. I took a sharp and shaky breath in as I shook my head. Like he could see me just then, the hot mess I truly was in all my damaged glory.

"Are you okay?" He asked again, and I could judge from the ruffling happening in the background of the call he was slowly starting to get out of bed and move around the room.

"No." I made out, my voice sounding flat and emotionless as I shut my eyes and felt small tears spill onto the apples of my cheeks. "I'm not okay."

"Where are you?" He quickly asked as I heard a creaky dresser drawer slide open. "What's going on?"

"Don't come after me," I told him, walking over and snatching the bottle of Maker's Mark from the floor once again. Slowly running my thumb over the red wax dripped down its neck. "You'll only be wasting your time."

He stopped his movements for a second. "Kennedy, what do you mean, you're scaring me." He whispered in shaky notes as I tipped the bottle back yet again.

"I'm a waste of space!" I snapped once I'd pulled the bottle back. "Trying to help me is pointless because I destroy everything I touch and I'll only destroy you like I did this family!"

"I'm coming over." He said plainly, certainty dripping from his tone as he started to move around his room again. The sounds faster and more frequent now in the background.

"DON'T!" I hissed down the line, squeezing the life out if that whiskey bottle. He didn't bother to answer me for a passing moment while I waited and listened closely. Hearing the jingle of his car keys, something inside me started to snap. "I won't be here, don't bother."

"Kennedy Paige Murphy!" He barked back at me, causing me to flinch at his use of my full name. Something he almost never did. "Don't do anything!" He all but yelled, and I heard something crack in the back of his throat. "I'm coming right now, please don't move..." I could hear his front door open and the sounds of outside fluttering in that were followed quickly by the sound of his truck door opening. "You're scaring me, Kennedy..." He whispered when the door shut again.

And I could hear it then. He was crying. At the sound and the realization, a sob ripped through me again, my face contorting as I fell to my knees. The bottle slid seamlessly from my hand and flopped to the floor, honey-like liquid dripped out onto the letters and the carpet as I clutched the side of my head.

"I'm so scared, Alex..." I admitted then, words shaking off my tongue and into my tears. "What's happening to me?"

I quickly stumbled back from the wall, tripping over my own two feet and falling flat on my ass. My chest was heaving wildly as my head spun and tears continued to pour down my face. All I could do in that instant was clutch my chest in an attempt to stop the pain that was ripping through me as though that had all just happened again in real time. Right before my very eyes. Every emotion I'd experienced that night was still being thrown around my mind. Smashing into the walls of my head causing the rippling pain from before to only heighten.

All the pain, confusion, fear and hurt was still drowning me from the inside out. And I couldn't do a single thing to stop it. I tried my hardest to control the sobs that were spilling from my mouth uncontrollably, sinking my teeth down into my lips. I scooted further and further from the small dent in the wall that had just shaken me to my very core.

I kept scooting backward on my butt till my back hit the frame of my bed causing something to tilt off the side and land on the floor with a light thud. I almost didn't even hear it over my heavy breathing, but still, I hesitantly turned my head to see my cell phone lying face down beside me. I didn't even give myself a second to think before I snatched the maroon colored sidekick off the ground with shaky hands and instantly searched for a name in my contact list. One of the very few that would jump out at me among all the rest.

Once I found it, I didn't even pause before tapping the name and pressing down on the green call button with all my fleeting force before pressing it to my ear. Hoping and praying he would answer. A mangled hiccup left my lips while I waited, using my free arm I pulled my bare knees tightly into my chest while I tried my best to rock myself from my place on the floor.

"Kennedy?" He questioned down the line once he answered. The sound of his familiar voice bringing both comfort and fear back to the front of my mind. And when I tried to respond, all that came out of me was soft sob-like sounds. "Hey, are you okay?" He quickly asked, and I instantly felt like I'd somehow slipped back into the memory I was now trying so desperately hard to forget.

"A-Alex!" I cried out, knotting my free hand in my hair and giving it a tug in some half-assed attempt to distract myself from a splitting migraine inside me. I could hardly speak; my throat was swollen shut as I tried to get anything at all out. "B-Birthday..."

"What?" He rushed, completely alert sounding now. "Kennedy, what happened?"

"I remembered..." I sniffled, releasing my hair in order to wipe my eyes. "Why did I have to remember that?" I cried, "WHY?"

"What Kennedy, what did you remember?" He ushered, his voice dropping and leveling out as though he was trying to control his emotions. Probably figuring damn well I couldn't.

"My birthday..." I spilled. Holding my head again as I heard Alex fall silent. Seeming to instantly connect all the dots I didn't understand and was now uncertain of if I even wanted too. What felt like hours passed between us in seconds as I sobbed into the phone before I heard shifting from his end.

"Stay put, okay..." He said cautiously and slowly. "I'm going to come over, just try and take deep breaths until I get there."

"Alex?" I whispered, my voice coming out so fragile and small. "Will you stay on the phone with me until you get here, I don't want to be alone."

"Yes." He whispered back. "Anything you need, I'd do for you."




Notes

Has the fluff parade come to an end!? Who knows?? Well, actually I do but that's for me to know and you to find out! :)

Be sure to let me know how you like the story so far, and make sure your subscribed to know when I update, I'm pumping this story out and I'm involve with some of the upcoming stuff!!

(also I made a new header this morning when I was bored!)


-Sarah

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Comments

Omg... Alex.. This had me in tears.

hopeless1313 hopeless1313
9/13/18

@sarahbeth
I feel that

Daydreamers Daydreamers
6/27/18

@Daydreamers
Thank you very much! I feel like my writing kind of changed as I grew up but I kind of prefer it now it just feels more orderly and less all over the place but i try and stay in touch with all the creative dramatics my old writing have in them ;)

sarahbeth sarahbeth
6/26/18

@Newyork_xo
Thank you!!
I actually hadn't gotten around to listening to that song before you said that but I just did and it was so cute i can totally see how it relates to Kennedy and Alex!
and yes it still is! It was on an account that I lost access to bc this site changes the google log in so i never got to finish it.. but its called No Pads.. No Helmets.. Just Memories! Its been over 3 years since I've updated it but theres a ridiculous amount of chapters to kill time on

ps can't say its my best work it was my first ever fan fiction but if you search Jasey its down on the first page of results!

sarahbeth sarahbeth
6/26/18

I love what great friendships she seems to have had with all the guys while it still being very clear how different hers with Alex is.

Have you heard the new Shawn Mendes album? There’s a song on there called When You’re Ready that reading this story makes me think of... It’s cute.

One last thing - Your other No Pads story I see you and other readers mentioning- is that still on this site? I’d like to read it if it’s available, lol.

Newyork_xo Newyork_xo
6/26/18