She smiled at him and he blushed.
“I must have missed that. Sorry.” I was absorbed in my own waist-deep shit. I didn’t even realize the world around me or the people in it.
Everyone took their seats and we began. It didn’t surprise me there were two empty seats. Unsettled and nervous about things I had no control over, I decided for once that I was doing the best I could. The hour flew by without a word touching my ears. My mind wandered to my future and what it would hold. I wouldn’t be here for very long. I’d like to make an easy transition into college—if possible. Saddened, I was no longer the girl who needed family. I held my chin up and prided myself on my new independence. And prayed it lasted. My family…that house only served as a reminder—a mental reminder every day of what happened. I didn’t need a physical reminder crushing me as well.
“Allison.” Keri shook my arm.
I startled and sneered. “What?” It was more out of deflection than anything. I was daydreaming.
“We’re going to lunch. You coming?” she asked as Chen loomed over her.
“I don’t think so. I have something I have to do,” I said, grabbing my stuff. I did. I wanted to start on my college paper. “I’m just going to grab some coffee.” I smiled weakly.
I suddenly saw the bigger picture. I had a future. A future that involved doing something I truly believed in, and translated into fulfillment. Thank you, Just Jane , I thought.
~~~
I snuck into the library. Well, it wasn’t a real library. There was only one bookshelf that housed a handful of hardcovers and a few dozen ripped paperbacks. Taped posters filled the walls with recovery themes. However, all I needed was a desk and some paper. I decided to write my paper by hand, comforted by holding pen to paper. My college essay was to evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. I closed my eyes, relaxed my arms, shook out my legs, and cleared my mind.
It was a dreary, dark day and the slight chill succeeded in bringing me back to that time and place. My essay read much like a victim’s impact statement. However, I was impacted by my experience—profoundly. I hoped to impact the admission counselor who read it. Furthermore, I truly wanted to make a lasting impact in the community…hands on. My goal was to provide a twenty-four-hour crisis hotline. The name would be “Survivors helping Survivors.” It would be a volunteer based operation that would offer individual support, court and law enforcement, support groups, community education, as well as prevention. Finally, I explained by providing such advocacy, it would empower survivors by offering them safety, social change, and education. If granted admission into their program…this would be my mission.
Forever the lofty dreamer , I thought. But, I was happy to be dreaming again. The handwritten inked pages multiplied as I poured my heart and soul onto them. Ecstatic by my achievement, my fingers ran across the final page as someone turned on the lights. I cupped my eyes from the glare.
It was Just Jane. “Here you are.”
“Yes, here I am,” I said, gathering my papers.
She slipped into the seat beside me. “College essay?”
I nodded once.
“How about a fresh pair of eyes? We’ll meet tomorrow morning…let’s say ten AM? We’ll discuss my suggestions…if any.”
I appreciated her support. “Thank you.” I handed her my essay and left the room without another word. Exhaustion beating my body and mind, I decided to skip dinner and go for a walk.
~~~
The sun was set and the evening was quiet. Too quiet. Dark, damp, and chilly. The trees rustled under the weight of the breeze. I rubbed my arms to keep the chill away. And I walked, ignoring the goose bumps that blanketed my body. There were no stars tonight, just muted greys across the sky.
I wonder where Luca is , I thought. Only hours ago we shared a starry
“I must have missed that. Sorry.” I was absorbed in my own waist-deep shit. I didn’t even realize the world around me or the people in it.
Everyone took their seats and we began. It didn’t surprise me there were two empty seats. Unsettled and nervous about things I had no control over, I decided for once that I was doing the best I could. The hour flew by without a word touching my ears. My mind wandered to my future and what it would hold. I wouldn’t be here for very long. I’d like to make an easy transition into college—if possible. Saddened, I was no longer the girl who needed family. I held my chin up and prided myself on my new independence. And prayed it lasted. My family…that house only served as a reminder—a mental reminder every day of what happened. I didn’t need a physical reminder crushing me as well.
“Allison.” Keri shook my arm.
I startled and sneered. “What?” It was more out of deflection than anything. I was daydreaming.
“We’re going to lunch. You coming?” she asked as Chen loomed over her.
“I don’t think so. I have something I have to do,” I said, grabbing my stuff. I did. I wanted to start on my college paper. “I’m just going to grab some coffee.” I smiled weakly.
I suddenly saw the bigger picture. I had a future. A future that involved doing something I truly believed in, and translated into fulfillment. Thank you, Just Jane , I thought.
~~~
I snuck into the library. Well, it wasn’t a real library. There was only one bookshelf that housed a handful of hardcovers and a few dozen ripped paperbacks. Taped posters filled the walls with recovery themes. However, all I needed was a desk and some paper. I decided to write my paper by hand, comforted by holding pen to paper. My college essay was to evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. I closed my eyes, relaxed my arms, shook out my legs, and cleared my mind.
It was a dreary, dark day and the slight chill succeeded in bringing me back to that time and place. My essay read much like a victim’s impact statement. However, I was impacted by my experience—profoundly. I hoped to impact the admission counselor who read it. Furthermore, I truly wanted to make a lasting impact in the community…hands on. My goal was to provide a twenty-four-hour crisis hotline. The name would be “Survivors helping Survivors.” It would be a volunteer based operation that would offer individual support, court and law enforcement, support groups, community education, as well as prevention. Finally, I explained by providing such advocacy, it would empower survivors by offering them safety, social change, and education. If granted admission into their program…this would be my mission.
Forever the lofty dreamer , I thought. But, I was happy to be dreaming again. The handwritten inked pages multiplied as I poured my heart and soul onto them. Ecstatic by my achievement, my fingers ran across the final page as someone turned on the lights. I cupped my eyes from the glare.
It was Just Jane. “Here you are.”
“Yes, here I am,” I said, gathering my papers.
She slipped into the seat beside me. “College essay?”
I nodded once.
“How about a fresh pair of eyes? We’ll meet tomorrow morning…let’s say ten AM? We’ll discuss my suggestions…if any.”
I appreciated her support. “Thank you.” I handed her my essay and left the room without another word. Exhaustion beating my body and mind, I decided to skip dinner and go for a walk.
~~~
The sun was set and the evening was quiet. Too quiet. Dark, damp, and chilly. The trees rustled under the weight of the breeze. I rubbed my arms to keep the chill away. And I walked, ignoring the goose bumps that blanketed my body. There were no stars tonight, just muted greys across the sky.
I wonder where Luca is , I thought. Only hours ago we shared a starry
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