Crys Bishop

Here, There, Somewhere In Between
2003-01-31 09:18:24 (UTC)

Lorelei-short story

this was a work in progress that never progressed

The wind blew against her face as she waited for the friend
that would never come. The rain seeped slowly into her hair
and dripped slowly onto her lap like tears. She had been
sitting on the old rotten bench for 45 minutes now, they had
seemed like 2 endless hours. She had seen an ambulance go
racing by 15 minutes ago. Lorelei (or Lei as her friends
called her) had jumped to the fetal position at the
slightest sound of sirens. She couldn’t remember when they
had begun to frighten her so much, but now at the slightest
sound she would begin to think horrid uncontrollable
thoughts. The thoughts of James running through her head at
this very moment were frightening, numbing, paralyzing
thoughts. She pictured him buried in a pile of metal, limbs
twisted in every direction, bleeding and crying out for
help. The EMT’s would do their best to extract him from the
vehicle, but the rain would only make it harder.
Lorelei shook her head and looked up at the sky. She kept
telling herself “Honey, get a grip. James is okay. He’s a
great driver, even in the rain.” Yet she could not shake
the vision, not yet. She glanced warily at her leather
wrist watch and saw it was now 11:50 PM. It had been nearly
an hour since she had phoned her friend in terror. Her
parents had been fighting again, as usual, and she couldn’t
have handled herself had she stayed there. When the 14
year-old had phoned her friend’s house his mom had answered.
When Lei had told her what was going on Mrs. Jansen had
comforted her as always. The elder woman’s soft voice was
like a savior’s as she spoke her usual words. “Oh sweetie,
I’m so sorry. I’ll wake James up and have him come get you
at the 5th Street bus stop, okay?” As terrified as Lei was
to sit alone in the not-so-great neighborhood she knew she
couldn’t trust herself to stay at her own home.
Nonetheless, she was worried now. James never took this
long…never.
Lei was beginning to shake in the cold and she could feel the
blood pulsing through her veins. She hadn’t touched the
razor in almost 3 weeks. James had helped her so much,
where was he now? She tried to ignore the temptations of
the cool metal and forced her mind to avoid images of James
lying dead or badly hurt somewhere on the path to the bus
stop. When she looked down the road once more bright
headlights pierced the midnight darkness. She hoped it was
James, but as the car crept closer she began to sense
something was very wrong. If only she knew how wrong things
were. The familiar emerald green Mercury rolled to a stop
in front of the decaying wooden bench. Lei ran to the car
and flung open the door. When the young girl saw James’
tear-streaked mother behind the wheel, she too broke down.
“Where is James? Is he okay? What’s going on?” Lei was
gushing questions.
Mrs. Jansen gave the child a soft look and hugged her
tightly. “He’s gone Lei.”
“What do you mean he’s gone? Where is he?” She knew
something was not right, but why wouldn’t Mrs. Jansen tell
her what was going on?
“Oh honey, he...he…” the older woman was pushing her words
through her tears and over a huge block in her throat. She
sadly looked down and whispered to Lei “James is dead.”
The tears dried from Lei’s eyes and she slumped down in the
seat. She did not know what to say, she did not want to
believe it. She was numb, and now more than ever she needed
tears, she needed the metal. Mrs. Jansen shifted from park
to drive and robotically drove not towards their 2-story
home on Monroe Ave., but to Lake Mensa Memorial Hospital.
The two females sat in a dull silence filled only by the
soft rain hitting the roof of the vehicle. Neither knew
what to say and neither wanted to believe it could be true.
Mrs. Jansen pulled into the space next to her and her husband
of 18 years SUV and turned the car off. She looked
adoringly at the young girl seated next to her. This was a
girl, only 14 years of age, who had been through more than
she herself could ever imagine possible. In only the 4 past
years she had lost her brother in a car accident, her best
friend to cocaine, witnessed the abuse of her mother,
suffered verbal abuse from her father, given birth to a
still-born child and only god knew what else. Yet here she
sat, seemingly stronger than the woman who had 43 years of
experience in this world. What was she supposed to say?
What could she do? She did not know. So all she did was
turn to the girl and say “Let’s Go.?” as she opened the door
and stepped into the rain.




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