I Rize (2 page)

She forcefully released her grip as her tone increased from the faint whisper, “Adny promised me that, too.”

The corners of Junior’s smile shifted into a deepened frown as the situation began to weigh heavy on his mind, body, and soul.

W
hen Miss Nora’s last class was done for the day, she sat at her desk, alone with her thoughts. Her chemotherapy session was scheduled at 4:00, but she couldn’t move from her chair. Pain shot up through her chest. She took a moment to rub the cross necklace around her neck, praying in silence.

Toward the end of second semester she progressed into the late stages of breast cancer. Her hair gradually thinned out over time from the chemotherapy treatments. She wore a printed scarf on her head each day at school. That particular day, she sported the brown and red scarf Adny bought her for Christmas.

Miss Nora had a graceful presence all her students loved, and no other teacher could mimic. She always wore a smile masking her emotional scars. Her kind voice covered the physical pain. The uncertainty of death never crossed her mind because she believed God would give her the strength to overcome it all.

Her mind went blank trying to envision her last encounter with Adny. She looked down in her desk drawer to get the folder of her chemotherapy schedule for the upcoming week. A crumpled piece of notebook paper hung over one of the flaps. It was a copy of a poem Adny had given her during first semester of her sophomore year.

Tears welled in her eyes as she vividly reminisced about the day she had first seen the poem.

After first period of sophomore year, she saw a folded piece of paper under Adny’s desk. She initially complained to herself about students always leaving trash around. Instead of throwing the paper away, her curiosity got the best of her, and she opened it. Adny came back to visit her during the lunch period. She remembered Adny searching for something under each of the front desks.

“Adny, did you leave your poem here during first period?”

Miss Nora could sense Adny’s embarrassment when she lowered her head. “I don’t know.”

“I failed to realize you had such an amazing writing style. I think you should enter the annual poetry slam contest in the spring.”

“Miss Nora, no one wants to hear me talk. No one likes me at this school.”

Adny grabbed the poem, crumpled it up, and threw it onto Miss Nora’s desk. “You can keep it.”

She always believed something was weighing heavy on Adny’s mind but never brought the situation up again.

Miss Nora walked down the quiet hallway to Principal Cooper’s office as the distant memories began to fade. She appeared in his office with no introduction and stood in the corner of the room observing the pictures of his family plastered on the wall. Their fake smiles sickened her, the closer she got toward his desk.

“Sir, something has to be done. How many people have to be hurt before change has to happen in this school?”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Nora. This situation has been an unexpected tragedy, but kids will be kids. If we try to solve every problem of every student in this school, nothing will get done.”

Miss Nora stood tall in front of Principal Cooper’s desk, watching his bruised fingers tapping lightly against the marked up desk. She was short compared to him and tried to gain dominance by changing her stance.

With her arms by her side, she projected her voice as if leading men into war. “You don’t care about the individual, but only about what makes the school look good—in other words, what makes you look good. You always use your position of power for the good of a select few.”

“Nora, I refuse to waste school time on something that was not anyone’s fault but her own.”

The ignorance from his lack of attentiveness about the situation angered her as she flung a pile of papers off his desk to garner further attention. “This entire situation could have been prevented if you would have alerted your blind eyes in her direction.”

Miss Nora followed his eyes, which darted back and forth. “
My
blind eyes, Nora?”

She took a step back from his view. “I failed. I was just as blind as you were.”

Principal Cooper turned his chair in the opposite direction. Miss Nora could sense his annoyance. “Nora, I have a lot to do today, so if you don’t mind could you leave, please?”

For the first time at Valley High School, Miss Nora didn’t smile. Her facial expression showed her sense of hopelessness as the creases around her mouth intensified.

While pulling the poem from her purse, she said, “This poem was her cry for someone to listen—for someone to help.” She threw it at his bald head. “Read it right now. I want to hear you. I want to hear every single word.”

Principal Cooper’s hands shook as he slowly unraveled the piece of paper. His tapping grew to a much faster pace, and she could sense his nervousness.

Don't you hate liars and cheaters,

you know those people you thought were your friends,

but really ain’t?

Those so called saints hide their innocent

insults behind their menacing minds, until

the silent signal for a discourteous dinnertime.

But to them, it is a satisfying dinnertime,

a time where gourmet gossip, tasty taunts, and refreshing rumors

become a delicious dinner for each.

Their plates are reused and recycled

like trash in their acidic atmosphere.

The trash I'm talking about?

The treacherous trespassing trash,

which slowly incinerates innocently,

a person who was all but too kind.

They joyfully steal what she thought was fine

and throw it back at her as

blistering bullets, which

painfully pierces her once happy soul.

This was the highlight of their meaningless meal;

to watch her fatal flaws and self-esteem

maliciously melt away.

As long terrifying tears poured from her fed up face,

their dinnertime was ruined when

she hid all emotion.

She could be angry or saddened

behind that pouring wall.

She was tired of being a sinful servant to them

while reminiscing about the righteous respect

she gave to each ungrateful, unforgiving soul.

They took her kindness and

spit it back at her,

becoming mere trash

on a filthy busy street.

When her boiling point was reached, she was able to form

a graceful bridge between them,

in which she carefully crossed,

not ever thinking of looking back.

Once over the bridge,

it broke with her new mind.

And they were sadly stuck on the other side,

stupidly seeking to hurt her again.

Her soft silence weakened them.

Don't you just hate two-faced, disgraceful people?

You know those people you thought were your friends

but really ain’t.

Principal Cooper pondered over the poem for a while. “I have no recollection of Adny’s talent for words.”

“Sir, this poem represents more than mere words on paper. This poem symbolizes her personal stance against the injustices she suffered every single day she stepped foot through
your
doors, walked through
your
halls, and ate in
your
cafeteria. So I ask you, what are you going to do?”

Without saying a word, he announced over the intercom that there would be a mandatory meeting for all students tomorrow morning.

“Nora, the question is not what I will do, but rather, what we will do.”

J
unior tossed and turned in his sleep all night. Mickey wasn’t returning any of his calls or texts, which didn’t help the situation any. His bedroom was right across the hall from Adny’s room. To calm his nerves, he decided to go into the living room to watch
Family Guy
. Junior and Adny would always watch the show each night before they went to bed.

As Junior walked out of the bedroom, he stood staring at Adny’s door for a moment. Walking in, he covered his nose the further he got into the room. The smell of old pizza lingered from the night before. Old, unfinished reports lay scattered across the computer desk. He attempted to sit on the bed, but his nose turned up at the stained bed sheets that hadn’t been washed in weeks.

Nearly tripping over a pile of dirty clothes left in the middle of the floor, he plopped his head down into the center. Words slurred from his mouth as if Adny was standing over him. “This neat freak right here misses his messy damsel. Come back to me.” In the thirteen years, they’d known each other Adny’s room was never cleaned. The moment Junior would attempt to find order amongst the mess, it would shift back to a state of disorder within hours.

Junior walked to Adny’s desk and sat by her laptop. A picture mounted on the wall made him smile for the first time in what felt like days. The picture was of them at their kindergarten ceremony. He stared at the picture for a while, chatting to himself. “Life was so simple. What happened to us Adny? It was supposed to be us against the world. Instead, the world consumed us whole.” Leaning back in the computer chair, eyes steadily closed, he strained to remember the first day they had ever met.

The first day Junior walked through the elementary school doors, the unknown terrified him. He was forced to start school a week late because his mother refused to sign him up. She didn’t think he was ready, but Michelle convinced her one afternoon. They had become acquaintances through the dispatch office where they both worked. Junior’s mother always complained how hard it was to raise a child on her own.

Junior discovered early on that the teacher designated Adny “Student of the Week” prior to his arrival. She was a spunky five year old full of joy and innocence. It was her job to pass out different colored paper to everyone. He sat quietly at the small table positioned in the center of the classroom. His excitement increased the closer she got to his table. Adny had four sheets left and passed the three remaining pieces out to everyone first.

The last sheet was pink. Junior looked down, attempting to cover the paper from view. Everyone around him erupted in laughter. His cheeks turned a bright crimson, spreading throughout the rest of his tiny face.

Out of anger, he stood on top of the table and, with all his might, ripped the pink paper in half. Adny’s facial expression remained engraved in his mind thirteen years later. She looked up at him while her eyes fell into an evil glare. Her pouted lips were joined with folded arms. The teacher had crowned her the queen of the jungle. Junior had invaded her realm of power. Clenching her teeth, she stood up in front of him ready to protect her throne.

He had to be stopped.

He had to be destroyed.

Both of her hands extended, pulling one of Junior’s legs. He lost his balance, and his legs slipped off the table. His knee scraped the edge on his way down, causing speckles of blood to leak from the fresh wound.

For a split second, his mind switched from past back to reality. He pulled his pant leg up, placing the faint remnants of the scar in his view. Chuckling to himself, he thought back to what happened next.

The teacher called their parents to come pick them up. They were both sent to timeout in an isolated corner of the classroom. At the age of eighteen, Junior could still recite the entire conversation that changed his life for the better.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“My name is Junior. What’s your name, girl?”

“Adny.”

“Hi, Adny, I like pink.”

“I like pink, too. We can like pink together. Sorry for making your leg hurt.”

Eyes twitching at the miniscule discomfort, he slowly peeled the band-aid off. “Do you want to see?”

Adny’s eyes brightened when she said, “I want to touch it.”

When the first day of school ended, Junior’s mother told him to quickly pack as much stuff as he could. She left him on Adny’s doorstep. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to return, the family decided to raise him as their own.

That simple conversation exchanged between two five year olds all those years ago spoke volumes. Growing up over the years was not a walk in the park. He had to run miles to even feel an inkling of acceptance from anyone. When he talked to Adny in the timeout corner, it was the first time he didn’t feel different from everyone else.

He loved Adny because she never once made him feel like the outcast gay kid, unlike many people at Valley High School. And it was her who gave him the courage to speak to Mickey at Wilmington Beach, two years prior.

Junior’s memories faded in and out as he looked for other things to remind him of the good times they shared. He turned on Adny’s laptop, looking for old pictures. No new ones appeared. Before turning it off, he remembered her YouTube channel. He thought back to a portion of the text Adny had sent him during the morning hours—
Smrtgirl57, Kandy21

He filled in the empty username and password boxes with the odd arrangement of words. There were videos dated from sophomore year to most recently, their senior year. One video posted at 9:00 a.m. caught his attention.

He pressed the play button. Adny popped onto the screen and was wearing the same shirt with the cross on it that he bought her for Christmas. He never forgot the question she asked when she tried on the shirt. “Do you think God punishes people who get tired of living on the earth he created?” While thinking about it, Junior still failed to answer her question.

He watched how she pulled the hair from her face, and couldn’t help but laugh because he held a deep hatred for those long bangs since the second grade. “No matter how old we get, you will always be known as Bangs. I don’t care how many hissy fits you throw, I’m cutting them when you least expect it.”

Before Adny began speaking, her face scrunched up, and she gripped her heart, as if someone was trying to rip it from her chest.

Junior, if you’re watching this last video, then you’ve already seen the rest of the videos. Actually … knowing you, you’re probably watching this one first.