Newspapers / North Carolina Wesleyan University … / May 5, 2006, edition 1 / Page 7
Part of North Carolina Wesleyan University Student Newspaper / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
Volume XXL Number 8 North Carolina Wesleyan College Rocky Mount. North Carolina 27804 ARTS 7 FICTION Not Really Like ‘The Exorcist’ By Ashleigh O'Briant My father sat me down on his knee one (Jav when 1 was a kid and told me that 1 could be anything 1 wanted to be when I grew up, This was the biggest lie he ever told me, I know this is a lie because I died when I was twenty years old. I was never anything but an awkward teenaaer and a young adult for barely a week. That is certainly not what I used to dream about as a child while lying propped up on my elbcnvs on mv pink canopy bed, complete with unicorns and faeries, I thought I would at least have that wedding 1 had been dreaming about since 1 was old enough to run around with a pillow case on my head laying, “I do! I do!” I refuse to '‘move on to the next world,” as they say because 1 ain jusi too damn pissed off about being dead. 1 mean who gets killed by a 6 inch piece of hail while taking out the garbage? Oh, just me, yeah I thought so. I mean, did it have to come out of the sky s^o damn fast that crappy February morning? Wimt are the chances that it would hit me in the head hard enough to KILL me? Oh. and not to mention the fact that it doesn’t usually hail in Febniary. l ias anyone other than me actually died in this manner',’ No. 1 bet they haven’t but I guess those were the cards diat I was dealt. So. in the meantime, I hang around my old home town to kill time and to wreak some havoc whenever possible, 1 mean, hell, 1 do have all of eternity, you know. I think it would be more bearable for my family if they could just see me one more time or maybe it w'ould be just more bearable for me. iVow that 1 am dead 1 have a habit of playing jokes on my family, especially my father. When he comes home from work at night, 1 lake his car keys and hide them in a different spot when he isn't looking. This completely flabbergasts him and drives him insane, lie knows it’s me. I did the same thing with his keys when I was a little girl with long pigtails and a gap-toothed grin. He talks to me sometimes. I think it makes him feel better, something has to because mom isn’t'a help 10 herself, much less to anyone else. My dad always says to me. “Dani, I swear to God you’re going to give me a heart attack. You're you, even w'hen you’re gone, baby.” , , ,I try io talk back to him, I think he heard me once. I had been walking on the roof making clicking sounds because I was bored. He yelled upat.nie, “bani, you w-anna knock that shit off?, 1 mean seriously. I’m working on a business proposal down here. The least you could do is come on in and sit with roe.” I came in and sat down in the big comfy black leather chair nexi to him. 1 swore he saw me that day. Maybe he did.and can’t bring himself to admit it. I know t miss him more than he could ever know. That's why I am always around the house, playing with his keys, change ing his TV channels, and talking to him even if he can't hear me. 1 guess I am what you would call a ■ poltergeist. Yep, I said it, POL'rERGElS'L Just like in that movie with the guy from the T'V' shov/ Coach, and that little girl with the creepy white hair I don’t hurt people though. That’s totally not my style, I do things that are more initating than harmful. I like breaking dishes on my birthday, making the water run cold during a pleasantly warm bath, hiding things when they are needed, and changing the TV channels to my old favorite shows. Hey, even ghosts need their Seinfeld reruns. “No Soup for you!” 1 do these things to my family in my old house because it makes me feel like 1 am still part of the family, even though it drives my mother nuts. She has had the shingles three times in the last year! She knows it’s me doing all the pranks though. She still talks to ine even though I have been dead for over five years. Out of all the people I knew when 1 was alive, I think my little sister, Emma, misses me the most. She was only seven when I was killed and it had a devastating impact on her. She thought I was the coolest girl alive and I bitched at her constantly. Hey, don’t go thinking that 1 am a total bitch or anything, older sisters are suppo.sed to bitch at their little sisters! I mean, she would not keep her hands off of my stuff and made it a point to emulate me in every' w'ay possible, right down to the way she combed her hair Ella is more beautiful than I ever w'as when 1 was alive. She has the same dark hair with perfect naturally, red highlights, the same short stature complete with an attitude that would rival Napoleon if you got on my bad side, and unfor tunately, she also has ray f>enchant for trouble. I guess some things are genetic after all. Emma is sitting up in her room listening to my Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, The Beatles, and The Doors records. Well, at least I gave her my im peccable taste in music and taught her enough to know that vinyl has the best sound in the world. 1 mean even though 1 was an eighties child, I know good music and these records w'ere damn good. The crap that is out there now isn’t good enough for me to spit on, much less willingly listen to. Emma has all of my old records spread out in front of her and is singing along loudly to Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind.” This was my favorite song when 1 was alive, even when 1 was a child. 1 damn sure didn’t listen to Barney or Ratfi. I remember mv father teaching me to sing Dylan as he stiummed along on his guitar with the excitement and happiness that only a child can seemingly possess. Emma remembers this vaguely and thinks about it now. She was only a baby then. Emma changes the song to “Like a Rolling Stone,” and sings to the top of her lungs, "Once upon you dressed so fine, you threw the bums a dime in your prime. Didn’t you?” She is think ing of me again, wishing I was there to help her overcome her awkward teenage years. 1 move ihe needle on the record player to my favorite song, “SubteiTanean Homesick Blues.” This song always made me dance when I was alive and hey, even ghosts can dance. As 1 was twirling around her room, she felt the wind from my movements and watched as the feathers on her dream catcher moved ever so slightly in the window. She spoke softly. “I know you’re here, Dani, Thank you for watching over me,” The next thing I knew she was looking at me as if I were there, right in front of her, in the flesh. She could see me! She could really see me! “Emma, can you see me? Can you hear me?” I asked, ■‘Of course I can, I have been seeing you since the day you died. You follow me every where, You're always wearing your South Park pajamas, I thought 1 was freakin’ nuts at first, but I read some books about ghosts and figured as long as it was you I was all right. 1 like seeing you around here, but you know you are scaring the bejesus out of mom and dad. They like knowing you are around but we would all rather for you to be at peace and move on. You deserve that peace, Dani.” ■‘Well, I am still pissed off about dying the way that I did. I just want to make sure you guys are all right. Plus I like hanging around here, it makes me feel like I am still a pan of you guys’ life.” “Dani, you will always be a part of this family. Not a day goes by that we don’t think of you and some prank you pulled. Our memories of you bring us laughter on a daily basis. It’s ok for you to let go. I mean, isn’t there some white light to walk into so you can go hang out with Janis Joplin, Hendrix, Morrison, and all of those other dead musicians that you so adore? I bet you might even run into Hunter S. Thompson. I bet he’s got some wild stories. I know you want to be with us, but we will be fine, really. You should find some peace. I bet they have your Dylan records in the afterlife.” Her words stunned me and I started to feel like maybe I had done the wrong thing by hanging on so tightly to the life and family that I once had. Enmia looked at me with a light in her eyes that said she really never w'ould forget me and that 1 would always mean the world to her. Nothing makes you see the truth of a situation quite like family, ‘■Ok Emma, I see your point, I am sorry if I caused you any extra grief. I just wanted to be close to you guys. It made it easier for me to be dead. I’m going to go and try to find that great while light. Hopefully some Dylan tune will lead the way.” Emma cranked up the stereo as my favorite song played like a tribute to my life. Suddenly my father, woken up by the music, came in and asked Emma what the hell she was doing with my records. “Emma, you know I can’t bear to hear these Meeting Time By Desmond Sykes Today is Laura’s graduation from college, li has been about five years since she had last seen me at her high school graduation. And though we’ve talked op the.phone, I have done my best to stay out of her and dad’s way. The way he has al ways showered her with gifts and love had always angered and sickened me, I guess one could come to believe that I was perhaps jealous and childish for not ^eqogrtizing thata little girl needs.more. Icjve than a little boy. I however always smiled in the presence of my dad as if nothing ever bothered me. I’d gotten in town to stay with dad last night only to discover dad wasn’t here anymore. 1 was on my . way to Laura’s house driving slowly and the fime was nine o’clock in ihe morning. I greeted Laura’s eyes as I exited my car. Though she’s now an adult her face still shows signs of adolescence. From her goofy and, uncontrollable laughter she beamed of excitement and smiles. She is bouncing around the front door awaiting my hug and conversation. I can barely catch what she is bellowing out to me. Her velvety voice is being whisked aw'ay because the wind is howling like a banshee. 1 slothfully cross the black asphalt to what seems to be even blacker grass. I realize that eveiything seems darker that day, from my black coffee to my midnight complexion toast. I focus ray attention back to my baby sister By now her graduation smile has dropped a little. Laura has to have noticed that with eveiy elderly step I took made her day grimmer and grimmer. Nothing but gloom I brought on this trip. 1 have not one present for the missed birthdays and Christmas’s that she and dad had shared without me. 1 ascended the red, chipped brick staircase as a toddlei', two feet upon each step. I was delaying my entry and what would soon become the mo.st hated of all my reunion trips back home. My voice trembled out a hello. She replied with a more jellylike but interrogative, “What’s wrong?” I hugged her tightly and a tear fell from my eyes upon her shoulder. Once again she asked, “W'hat’s wrong?” That's when I told her that last night I found dad dead in his favorite reading chair holding a picture of Laiira and me and a golden graduation ticket in his hand. From the volcanic trembling of her pale bottom lip, 1 could tell my words had damaged the core of her soul. She fell to the cold, hard uncarpeted floor as if weightless. A limp, precious oriental rug she had become. Laura had always been more emotional than I. Laura had always been daddy’s little girl or his ‘cutie pie’ as he referred to her. Everything in life she did she did for him. Mom passed away after giving birth to Laura and dad turned all the'love he had for mom into a love for Laura. Laura gave all the love mom had and all the love a daughter could have for a father and channelled it all to dad. 1 picked Laura up as her small frame was still light enough for me to pick up. 1 carried her to the couch where 1 carefully laid cutie pie down so 1 could go to the kitchen for a glass ot water and a rag. After retriev ing the items I swiftly made my way back to the living room couch where Laura lay huddled in the fetal position. She asked, “Why of all days this day, and why of all people my dad'?” She cried so violently that the tears that 1 had been able to mostly hold back all day begin to flow. I told Laura that I had found him last night. I called the ambulance and they come to get him. ■ She said, “Why didn’t you come to get me And sprinted off to the bathroom where the door slammed shut. songs since Dani’s accident.” “Dad, she's here. She’s standing over there in the corner crying, looking at you. Try to see her.' Dad stood there for a moment, trying to get a grip on the situation at hand. He breathed in slowly and opened his eyes. He sees me! He actually sees me! 1 smile at him through iny tears and I let out a laugh that would rival a child, “Dad, I'm soiry if I’m upsetting you right now but damn it 1 have been trying to get you to see me for a long tiine. I can’t bring myself to leave you guys. 1 don’t feel like there’s anything out ihere for me. like heaven or hell or whatever else there could be.’’ “Dani, 1 can’t believe this. This is the first time 1 have heard your voice or seen your face in five years. Now that I see you I don’i w'ant you to go. I can’t let go of my anger over losing you and if that means you have to stay, then that's the way it will be." I couldn’t believe whai I had jusi heard. He started singing along with Emma’s record with tears in his eyes. I think the shock of seeing me was enough to give him that heart attack lie always talked about before I died. He started to breathe heavily and fell to his knees. Enuria rushed over to his side. “Dad! Are you okay?! I'll go call for help!” “Go, hurry, angel.” By ihe lime Emma had left the room my dad was standing next to me, looking down at his body. He looked happy for the first time since I was killed. He seemed more at peace now' than he ever has been when he was alive. I hugged him for ihe first time in years. He could actually feel my touch now. He was finally where he wanted be all these years: with me. I scanned the room blurry eyed from the tears, looking at all the books and pictures diat hung from her rented townhouse. It was now nine twenty two. 1 told the door of the bathroom that though he was gone he would still want her to give the valedictorian speech for her class. She sobbed louder, and murmured out that dad promised to be there for this. “He promised that he would always be here as he has always been.” She had believed him because dad was always there. He rented a small apartment in the same city just to be close to cutie pie. He was ihere at the umbilical c6rd cutting ceremony to the training bra fiasco to the no good boyfriend fights. I repeated to that same door, that though not in flesh dad'with mom would be right there loudly just as mom did at my graduation. She bellowed even louder I am a high School English teacher and 1 still couldn’t find the right words to comfort my sister Hallrnark doesn’t have a card for this, 1 thought. Then I shifted the blame of ignorance from me to dad. It is his fault 1 thought, since the beginning he always gave her extra cookies. .'Vny and every'thing she asked for the dead bastard had given her How can 1 compete with this now, he gaVe her everything and I can’t give her comforting words. He has mined her. I now have to find a way to become her security blanket; 1 first need to get her from this house to her graduation. My Journey begins now. No longer can I be recluse from the world, I am now and until my death Laura’s go to guy. 1 am now her big brother, father and mother .At that moment all was silent, too silent. I called Laura’s name. “Laura”, I exclaimed. “Cutie Pie, Are you okay” .1 quickly began to bang on the same door that I was talking to. I pounded it with my shoulder repeatedly until I had broken though, .'Xnd there she sat on the white porcelain toilet with runtiing makeup. She looked up at me and slowly arose. I mummified my hand with tissue and proceeded to wipe her face.'l told her that everything w'as going to be okay. That I had come down for a gradua tion and that is what I wanted to go see. She was adamant about not wanting to go but she wanted to go see dad. I told her that the hospital has him now and that when we returned from the ceremony we can begin lo make plans for a meeting with the appropriate people. But first let’s get you cleaned up, I said. You owe it to dad and a host of other students to be there and give this speech. Laura retorted to me that to dad and herself she owes, and right now she wants to be with her father. She never uses our father as if she knew something I hadn't. I guess when you're an absentee brother one could feel as though they are the only child. I told her that 1 too loved dad and will miss him but I knew nothing short of her giving her graduation speech and W'alking across that stage would make him happier W'ith that she put her hands over her worried face and rocked dawdling back and forth. She said, “Robert, why are you tiying to make this hard for me, telling me of obligations to other people when my father has just passed. “Fuck them people,” .she exclaimed. She told me of how I didn’t know how she felt because I had always been an egotistical, self- centered jackass. 1 told her and how could I deny it that yes I had been. And now that I realize this I am trying to make a change. I wanted to be there for her and help her through this trying fime. “Fuck you,’’ she screamed has she headed back to the bedroom swiping a picture of dad on her way. 1 now spent another twenty minutes of obvi ous conversation with myself leaning in her door way. She lay still as a rock on her bed blatandy ignoring me as I tried to remain calm, I conversed for those tw'enty minutes about how' she may feel belter after attending graduation. While I talked she cuddled up next to the picture as if 1 didn’t exist. After about another eight minutes my calm fled. I stood there and w'ith tears in my eyes and I let it go. “You know what, Laura, to hell with this. To hell with you, to hell with dad and to hell with your graduation.” With my tone she flipped over with lucid eyes. I confiniied to let all of my bottled up thirty- one years of anger pour from my soul. I told her that 1 hurt in my heart as well and not because my dad is gone, it’s because of the way I had always felt ejected from their lives, “When I was little I believed it was all in my head, but now I .see that it is not,” I said, “That if you ai'e going to continue to be a spoiled little shit then by all means do so. But know one thing you are twenty-two yettfs old and life is full of lei downs,” I told her I was sorry that her first let down had to be one of this caliber but that’s life, 1 told her there are plenty more heartaches where this one came from and life owes her twenty some years of pay back for her living such a blissful and carefree life, I was crying while saying this told her that I am not dad I don’t have the right w'ords to say. 1 don’t have the money and time to spend on her She yelled back, “Y'bu act like dad never loved you. Are you bitter?” “Bitter, yes 1 am bitter!” I saw how dad has showered her with her first car and money and every thing she has and hasn’t asked for and I was mad. I was mad at her attitude toward me as 1 was trying to be her comforter .And to her question of did Dad love me I replied: "1 have thirty thousand dollars in school loans thai show how much he cared for me.'’ Of all the money he had he not once asked to help me pay off anything. I told Laura, “ I know what you are going through must be hard but did you believe he would live forever?” Maybe it was gocxl that he was gone because she can grow up and I could move on. I told her that 1 was leaving, I would be in town to finish the preparations for dad and 1 would see her at the service. I stomped out of her house and made my way to my car I started it up and sat and cried. .After about four minutes 1 drove off and found myself at the front gate of the Lafayette University. I followed the snaking cars around to the over filling parking lot. I exited my car and entered into the administration building. I found the president’s office and there I met President McPherson, a balding and greying man in his mid sixties. I told him who I was and that he would have to excuse my sister due to the circumstances of our father’s death. I figured 1 could at lea.st do this much for my sister The president expressed . his condolences to me and my family and asked if 1 would mind attending the ceremony and accepting See"Meeting" on page 8
North Carolina Wesleyan University Student Newspaper
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
May 5, 2006, edition 1
7
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75