I am not careless. I try very hard to keep track of my things. In reality, I've been cursed. How is it my fault that everything I own conspires to run away from me? Or that the odds are never in my favor? Is the work of a curse the fault of the cursed? Of course not.
I place things exactly where they should go. Where they go when I leave the room, or where someone else decided to put them is none of my fault. I'm really just a poor victim.
Unfortunately, my mother doesn't agree with my sad condition. So you'll understand why I couldn't appeal for her pity the afternoon of January 15.
"Alexandra, get downstairs this minute! You're going to be late, and you don't even have lunch!"
"I'm coming mom! I'm leaving my room right now." I lied. My alarm clock hadn't woken me up at 6:00, and I was running thirty minutes late, with twenty to go before school started. I grabbed my phone and shoved it into my pocket, and ran down the stairs.
"Do you have a lunch," my mother interrogated me on my way to the car.
"Yep."
"Homework done?"
"Yep."
"Phone charged?"
"Your house key?"
I closed the car door.
"Sure." I frenetically search my cluttered backpack for my purple polka dot key. I thought I had put it in here yesterday. It must have fallen to the bottom. But it's too late anyway to go back and get it.
"The news says it's going to snow later today so I need you to have it in case there's an early dismissal. I have to work late today so I won't be able to pick you up. I called Emily and her parents to give you a ride."
Story of my life. Both of my parents work, and they usually work late, so driving anywhere is always a lot of trouble. My mom doesn't have time to stress about me, which is why I can't let her worry about everything I do. The last time I lost my key, I was reamed out for an hour with threat of punishment. Which is probably why I said something I would regret later on.
" Okay Mom, I'll be fine." I looked out the window to see the first flakes of snow.
...
English Class. This year we were learning great American literary periods, and today we had begun to discuss naturalism. Well, Ms. Hartford had begun to drone on about naturalism to a crowd of sleepy eyed students at 8:00 a.m.
"These writers didn't believe in free will, but that man was powerless to nature, fate, and the forces of his environment. Against these, he would always fail-"
Interrupted by the even more disturbing static from the intercom, Ms. Hartford stops speaking.
"Because of the impending snow storm, London High will have an early dismissal at 1:00."
The whole class wakes up and rejoices with shouts. A snow day!
"Settle down, settle down everyone!" Ms. Hartford cries as she tries to regain control of her class. "Now we won't have time to finish our work, so I need you to read To Build a Fire by Friday. I'll postpone the quiz."
I take a quick look out the window. The snow is only one inch high. It doesn't seem too bad. I open my backpack and start taking books of the my backpack. I place my had and dig around in my backpack. Still no key.
I check my folders, pencil pouch, and even open my books. No key. When school ends 3 hours later, I run and check my locker, and then my coat pockets. I grab my phone and text my mom, and pray that she was just joking earlier and she can pick me up. Nothing. It's at this terrible realization that sweet, sweet Emily has walked her way to my locker, ready to give me my ride home. I am, in all senses of the word, screwed.
...
"How was your day Alexandra? Glad you got out early today?" Emily's mom asks as I get into the back of her car.
"Oh I'm fine Ms. Jameson. How's your day going?" I have a plan. Emily just lives ten minutes away from me. I can just stay at her house till my mom comes home, and tell my mom the Jamesons begged me to come over. I start to calm down. Sometimes it helps to think on your feet.
"Actually I'm having a pretty good day. I was able to get everything packed and ready for our vacation this weekend-"
"Vacation?"
" Oh Yes! Emily's dad is taking everyone to a ski lodge this weekend. It's been a long time since Mr. Jameson took a break from work, and he loves skiing. The whole family is going! We were supposed to leave tonight, but it's a long drive, especially with the snow. So we'll be leaving as soon as I drop you at home."
As we drive past a church, I let out a sigh. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? I just can't get a break. I can't force them to wait for me. I'd have to tell them why I couldn't get in my house, and then they would think I'm careless, and Mrs. Jameson would tell my mom, who would later proceed to murder me. And I do not feel like dying today or hearing a lecture of my irresponsibility. I'll take my chances with the snow.
Mrs. Jameson pulls up to my house and stops. " Well this is our stop," she says. The Jameson's are so nice. So clean cut and simple. If only they knew the trouble I had gotten myself into. That's when I remember. I have a little sister! Marci's coming home on the bus. So I just have to wait for her. In the snow. Which is now over a foot high, and counting. For who knows how long. Simple. If you have a death wish.
"Thank you," I replied. I have to think on my feet. "I'm just going to go inside from the back."
And with that, I slush through the snow to the backyard porch. The sliding doors are locked, and they don't seem to be opening. I know I once did this in the summer. It should be working! I wiggle and jiggle door to no avail. Then I hear the sound of an engine, the sound of the Jamesons driving off. It is at this moment that I realize just how much of a mess I am. I look like a burglar. No one's outside, and I can't just wait here. I check my watch. It's 1:20. I call my sister.
"Hello?"
"Hey Marci. Are you coming home on the bus?" I bite my lip.
"Yes."
"Do you have the key?" I pray in desperation.
"Yeah." Finally, something's going right. As pitiful as it is for a high school student to be relying on her 12 year old sister, I don't care.
"That's great! Look, I didn't bring mine, and Emily is driving me home. When will you be home?
"We just left school a couple minutes ago," Crap. Her stop is last. "But like no one's on here. So I'll be home soon. Are you almost home?"
"No, not yet," I mumble, too embarrassed to share the truth. "Just text me when you get here."
Seven minutes later, she's nowhere in sight, and I'm starting to lose feeling in my toes. I wait five more minutes before I realize that I can't stay out here any longer I need to find shelter fast. And I know where. The Dunkin Donuts down the street.
I pick up my backpack, tie my scarf, walk down the sidewalk. The snow is two feet high by this point, and it's still coming down.
As I try to salvage my frozen toes and fingers, I ponder how it all led up to this. If someone told me this had happened to them, I probably would've laughed. I mean, I'm a walking joke, a live action cautionary tale. I'm a travesty. Who would rather risk frostbite then telling the truth? Then I realize the worst thing of all. My mother was right. I am careless, and I should have listened to her.
Everything has been against me today. Why did the Jameson's chose today of all days to go skiing, why couldn't my sister have come come earlier? Why couldn't I have found my key? Why did it have to snow today?
I decide to call my sister again to see if she already got home. My phone doesn't turn on. I forgot to charge it.
I trudge on against the harsh elements, trying to keep warm. My fluffy pink mittens do little to keep my fingers warm, and my leather boat shoes are soaked. I hope I don't catch a cold, or even worse, the flu. What if I got pneumonia? Wouldn't that just be the perfect ending to this tragedy. What if I died? My whole family would laugh at my funeral. I'd laugh at my funeral. I couldn't imagine a more pitiful way to die. I could see my tombstone right now. Death by Stupidity.
I could not let that happen. I would not give my mother that satisfaction of knowing she was right. I was just a block away from shelter. I could make it.
I struggled with the heavy weight on my backpack, and made my way through the ice and snow. Trying not to look at the cars driving past, or fearing what would happen if I slipped on ice, I marched forward. Finally, the bright lights of the sign came into view. Within a few minutes I could see the building. I was going to survive.
I was greeted by warm air and the smell of coffee. Soaking wet, I took off my coat and ran to the bathroom. I used the hand dryers to warm my hands, and after I dry my shoes, I walk back out. Famished, I buy some tea and two jelly donuts. Actually, it was probably three. Near death experiences make one very hungry. I think the cashier felt sad for me.
Thirty minutes later, my sister finally texts me that she's home. Her bus got held up in traffic. Oddly enough, I actually feel proud I made it all the way over here. This whole day has made me realize that being more responsible saves a lot of trouble. I almost don't want to leave, thinking of all the walking I'll have to do to get back home. I put my jacket back on, and take my change to put in my coin purse. As I drop in 35 cents, I spot something purple.