Once and Again 1. Part 1

Out Of Nowhere  
  
Part 1 of 2  
  
Author: Megan  
  
Disclaimer: All things 'Once and Again' belong to the creators of the show. I think.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please: shy_grrl@hotmail.com  
  
Archive: www.realmoftheshadow.com/megan.htm and www.jessiekatie.com  
  
Summary: Karen is dead, and Jessie's hurting. Sequel to 'Watching Little Birds Fly'.  
  
Author's Notes: A short attempt to describe Jessie's feelings, in the aftermath of her mother's death. Emphasis on short. I won't dwell on this too long. Timeline is... after 'Gardenia'. Though, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. This world is quite different from the real 'OandA' world.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Weird, how the world grows so small sometimes. My room is it now. The whole world. And nothing happens in it, without me knowing. I can just lie in my bed, and still keep watch over everything. It's a great feeling. When nothing can surprise me. I'm safe here. In my own world.  
  
People sometimes try to bring me news from the outside, but I don't listen to them. I let them talk, all right, cause that's the easiest way to please them. But I don't listen. Not really.  
  
People... there are so many of them. There's Eli. And dad. Lily, Grace and Zoe. None of them can really understand, how much I lost, when I lost mom. Grace tries to show compassion by flipping between concerned, and casual. She cares, but she's so afraid of hurting me more, that she doesn't even dare to try help. Lily is all about nurturing. Bringing me food and stuff. Asking me, if I'm all right, every ten seconds. I could really live without it. And dad... he's just so dense. Sits by me the longest times, and can't really say, or do, a single useful thing. I love him too much, to drive him away, though. Even when I would want to. And it is sort of comforting, to see that he's hurting too. That he still loved mom in a way.  
  
Eli's pain is most like mine. And I crave for his company the most. He doesn't come often, but when he does, I almost feel happy. Almost, because I can feel his love. I can't feel anyone else's. I can see his hurt. He lost his mother too, and blames himself for it. Just like me. Only not to the same extent. He blames himself for fighting with her, and for not being nicer to her. I blame myself for the actual death.  
  
And then there's Katie.  
  
"Hey," she says, quietly entering my world.  
  
I stare at her through my tearstained eyes. Katie's like a miracle. Came into my life at the exact right moment. Instantaneously, changed everything for the better. But in the long run, still wasn't enough.  
  
She doesn't say anything more. Just walks deeper into the room, and looks around. I follow her with my eyes, trying not to blink. If I looked away, the roof would probably collapse on her. She makes her way to my table, and picks up a framed photograph. Smiles at it distantly, and then sets it back down.  
  
"You can look away," she says, glancing at me under her brow, "I won't steal anything."  
  
"I can't look away," I whisper, and lift my feet up on the bed, next to me.  
  
"Am I that hot?" she grins barely noticeably.  
  
"Don't make jokes," I state, shaking my head quickly. No one's allowed to make jokes in my world. Rule number one, laughing is prohibited. If my mom is dead, then no one has any business laughing.  
  
"Sorry," she mumbles.  
  
The grin disappears in a heartbeat. And I find, that I miss it. For, like a second. Then I don't care anymore. Katie turns away from me again, and picks up a stack of other photographs from beside the framed one. They're all pictures of my mother. She turns back towards me, and leans down on the desk. She doesn't look at the photos, but instead at me. Our eyes lock together. Like so many times before.  
  
And I remember the first time I saw her. Bouncing around like a hyperactive monkey-girl, clinging onto Tad. So full of life. Excited about everything. And now she just looks sad. All because of me. I shouldn't have dragged her into my world. Where everything is so hard. I should just let her go.  
  
"You don't have to stay," I tell her.  
  
She frowns back, confused, "What?"  
  
I just meant to glance at her that day. A quick peek at Tad's weird friend, and then move onto more important things. But somehow, I couldn't look away. And the glance turned into a stare. I still haven't stopped staring at her.  
  
"Now's your chance, Katie," I say, "Just walk away, and don't look back," I shake my head once. For effect.  
  
"What are you talking about, Jessie?" she says. Getting a little anxious. She pushes herself up from the table, and takes a few steps my way.  
  
Some people, I can't figure out, no matter, how long I study them. Katie is like that. And I knew it right from the start. She acted all ditzy, and uncaring. But she sounded honest, and looked kind. I guess, I fell in love with her right then and there. I just didn't see it, cause I tried to convey those emotions towards Tad. And that just went... wrong.  
  
"Leave," I say harshly, "You don't need this. You're sixteen! Go! Live!" I try to get through to her, pressing the words hard. It won't work, cause she loves me so much.  
  
She walks up to the bed, and sits down next to me. Fresh tears start to blur my vision, "Silly girl," she says. Placing a hand on my neck, she starts to play with my hair. Like so many times before.  
  
"I'm only making you miserable," I whimper.  
  
She smiles so sweetly, I don't have the heart to protest. Her other hand reaches out too, and she places it on my cheek. And she pushes her forehead against mine. And I'm still staring at her, "I'd rather be miserable with you, than happy without," she says.  
  
I close my eyes, and fight back the urge throw my arms around her, "That doesn't even make any sense," I cry silently.  
  
"It does to me," she replies just as quietly. And moves her head onto my shoulder, and her hands around my back. She pulls me into a hug.  
  
I hold onto her, cause it's the only thing I can do, "She's gone, Katie," I whisper, and bury my head into her hair.  
  
"I know," she says.  
  
I cry on her shoulder the longest time. And she doesn't mind. Just keeps smoothly drawing circles on my cheek with her finger. And whispering soothing voices into my ear. Minutes go by, and nothing changes. I feel just as bad. And she feels just as good against my body. I pull back enough to see her face. She looks at me desperately. I'm a mess, a wet, sobbing mess. Scary enough to drive away bravest of men. But not her. She just looks at me. Longingly.  
  
I don't think she's ever looked better. She always looks great, but not like this. It's hard to keep my hands away from her. And I don't see, why I should. I breathe in quickly, and assault her mouth with mine. She's too surprised to pull back at first, and then she doesn't even want to anymore. I push my tongue into her mouth, hungry to taste more. She responds with the same enthusiasm, and her hands start to roam down my face. Onto my shoulders. She gently pushes me down on my back, and lies on top of me herself. I take hold of her wrist, and start to guide the hand even lower down my body.  
  
And suddenly, she jerks her head up, and ends the kiss, "Jessie..." she pants out my name, "Not like this," she says. And looks at me. Pitifully.  
  
"You don't want this," I say. It comes out somewhere between a question and a statement.  
  
"No, you don't want this," she says, and shakes her head.  
  
She tries to pull further away from me, but I refuse to let go, "I do," I plead to her. Even though, I don't like her pitiful eyes.  
  
"No, Jessie," she says sternly, and removes my hands from her body, "Your mother wouldn't want it."  
  
What? "WHAT?!" I scream. I push her with all my strength, managing to tilt her off my body, and making her fall down on the floor, "What did you say?!" I sit up, and move on the edge of the bed, to glare down on her.  
  
"Jessie..." she looks up at me, a little scared.  
  
"You don't get to say, what my mother would've wanted!"  
  
"I didn't mean..."  
  
"Get out!" I interrupt her quickly, before she starts reasoning. I've had enough. I'm the only one, who knew what my mother wanted! The only one, who knew her!  
  
She struggles up on her feet, and keeps looking at me. Still pitifully. It's getting even more on my nerves. I don't need pity! It's useless, "I'm sorry... I just didn't want anything to happen, and..." she starts talking. And isn't moving away.  
  
"Leave. Now," I say more quietly, but no less hatefully.  
  
She nods slowly, and turns to go. I look after her. As long as she's in my world, I have to make sure, she's okay. Even, when I hate her. At the stairs, she turns and looks at me once more. Apologetically, "I'm sorry," she says. I don't forgive her, and she leaves.  
  
***  
  
Sunday is burial day. The day for goodbyes. I don't wanna leave my world, and they can't bury her here. It's a problem. Not so much to me, but to them. To the people. I don't mind skipping the funeral. It's just a pointless ceremony. She's gone already, and it doesn't matter, when I let go of her memory. I'm sure it'll be gone soon enough.  
  
Dad's here. Insisting, that I go, "You'll regret it, if you don't come," he says. I've heard the same words a million times, in a million different tv shows, "You know, when my dad died, I thought about not going to his funeral," he talks in his annoyingly understanding voice. It disgusts me beyond reason, right now, "But later... I... I was really glad that I went."  
  
I'm lying on the bed, leaning my back on the headboard. And dad's sitting close by. Glancing at me every once and awhile, "Dad..." I say to him.  
  
"No, hear me out, Jessie," he rudely interrupts me. And takes another short peek my way. I'm tempted to remove my eyes from him, and leave him to survive on his own. But I can't quit on people, just because I'm mad at them, "You need to get closure, Jessie," dad says, and nods his head.  
  
Closure. Whoever came up with that pathetic concept, should be shot on sight. I can just picture people giving me this same piece of shit advice, all through my life. Whenever anything bad happens, just get closure. That helps. Right. What's wrong with wallowing in things?  
  
"No, I don't, dad," I say quietly.  
  
He turns away for a second, and then, armed with new reasons, looks back, "Well, don't you wanna pay your respects to her?"  
  
Ouch! "You're gona guilt me into going?" I ask dubiously.  
  
And like the gutless dad he is, he backs down, "No! Of course not," he assures me, "You don't have to come, if you really don't want to," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, and rubbing it gently.  
  
"Right," I irately state, "So, why are you still bugging me about it?"  
  
"Because, I think it would be good for you," he nods his head once. I keep my mouth shut for a change. He's right. Not about the 'good for me' part, but that I owe it to my mom to go to the funeral. The mere thought of her stings in my heart, and I can tell, I'll be crying again soon. And I want him out of here first, "There's also going to be a wake at your mom's house, after the funeral. People are going to wonder..."  
  
"Fine, already!" I almost scream at him, "I'll come."  
  
Dad startles back slightly, and takes away his hand. He stares at me quietly for a few seconds, "Jessie, you don't have to come..."  
  
"I'll come," I repeat, and cross my arms over my chest, "What time?"  
  
"We leave in an hour," he says.  
  
There's a curious look in his eyes. He's not sure, what to make of my quick change of heart. If it's a good thing, or not. But he lets it pass, cause he doesn't know what else to do. That's the thing with dad. He can be very smart in a lot of ways, but when it comes to people, he's just plain stupid. And he doesn't have a clue on how to communicate.  
  
"Okay. I gotta get ready, then," I say, swallowing back down the first sobs, that almost make it up my throat.  
  
Dad nods his head, smiles, and gives my knee a weak nudge, before getting up, and leaving my room. His head is the last thing to disappear down the stairs, and when it's gone, I let the tears come. I crawl down the bed, and turn my back on the outside world. For a short while still, I'm safe here. And I can cry alone.  
  
***  
  
Eli's next in line. He comes up, when I'm almost out of time. No doubt, dad sent him to check up on me. I'm sitting at my table, dressed in my blackest skirt, and my blackest turtleneck sweater. Fixing my hair in front of the mirror. He sneaks up, and scares me a bit, when his figure suddenly appears in the mirror, next to me. Decked in black, him too.  
  
"Hey," he says, and waves his hand.  
  
I smile, "Hey, you," and greet him, way too enthusiastically. I give my hair one last sweep, and then set the brush down on the desk. Eli remains standing there, a good distance away. He smiles a little nervously back at me, "Am I late?" I ask, when he doesn't talk.  
  
Eli shakes his head once, "Nah," he mutters, "You've got plenty of time. I thought, we could take... mom's car. Just us," pain flashes across his face, when he thinks about her. But he recovers himself quickly, and smiles again, more earnestly this time, "That way, we'll have a getaway car, if you wanna flee the scene at any time."  
  
I love him so much now. There aren't even words for it. The connection we share now, is so much deeper. It's the one good thing to come out of her death. We have this huge tie that binds us together. We're the only ones, who know, what it felt like to be loved by her. And we're the only ones, who really lost anything. In a few weeks, the Mannings, dad along with them, won't even remember her anymore. Their lives will be exactly like before. Only mine and Eli's have changed.  
  
Thank God, I have him to share the memories with. Years from now, he'll still be here. As living proof, that I didn't just dream up my mother. Cause, without him, I might as well have. No one would know the difference. No one could say, 'Hey, I knew her too'.  
  
"Sounds good," I say, and pick up a silvery necklace from the desk. It has a small crucifix attached to it, "Can you help me with this, Eli?" I ask, looking expectantly at him through the mirror, and holding the chain around my neck.  
  
"Sure," he hesitates a second, and then walks closer, "I didn't know, you wore a cross," he says, and fastens the lock with steady fingers.  
  
"I don't. Usually," I reply. Our eyes meet in the mirror again, and he smiles. He is so great. He knows exactly how to be around me. He shows his own pain, but isn't overwhelmed by it. He shows he cares about me, but doesn't force his advice, when it's not wanted. And most importantly, deep down, he's still the same Eli, I've known all my life, "I just thought, the occasion called for it."  
  
"Yeah," he mutters, and takes a step back. He spots the photographs of mom, and smiles again. There's the framed one, and lots of others sprawled all over the desk, "Where'd you get those?" he asks.  
  
"Dad brought them over the other day. There's a whole box of them there," I say and nod towards the far corner of the room, "They were mom's. I'm sorting out the ones, that have her in them."  
  
Eli keeps smiling, and picks up the framed one, "God, she looks so happy!" he sounds surprised. And I know what he means. It was years ago, when she was that happy the last time, "And look how tiny you are," he says, and holds out the photo for me to see.  
  
I turn and look at it. And smile. It has mom, sitting on a couch, cradling a newborn baby in her arms, "It's actually you," I tell him.  
  
"It is?" Eli frowns, and takes another glance at the picture, "How can you tell?"  
  
Because I was never that ugly, I almost say. But joking isn't easy, not even with Eli. I can smile at his cute remarks, but I can't make my own. It feels wrong.  
  
I'm just getting around to telling him about the date in the back, when Katie's voice interrupts me, "Jessie?" it comes from the foot of the stairs, "Can I come up?"  
  
I turn even further around, to look in the general direction of the voice. And then glance at my brother. He shrugs his shoulders, and whispers, "I told her about the funeral yesterday."  
  
"What?" I frown, and talk as quietly, "Why?"  
  
"Jessie?!" Katie yells, a little louder this time.  
  
"It came up in a conversation," Eli shakes his head.  
  
"What conversation?" I ask anxiously. Why would Katie and Eli have a conversation? Where the Hell would they even meet?  
  
"I let her in, when she came to see you," he says and furrows his brow, "What does it even matter? You spend every waking minute with her anyway, so why shouldn't she..."  
  
"Hi," Katie chirps from the top of the stairs. We both turn to look at her, "I called, but I guess you didn't hear me..." her voice drifts off.  
  
I just stare at her quietly for a few moments, and then shake myself to full alert, "Yeah... I..I heard. Hi," I say.  
  
An uncomfortable silence falls into the room. I'm reminded of my... inappropriate behavior yesterday. And it makes me blush. Here's a girl, who time after time, bends over backwards to help me, no matter how hard it is. And I repay her, first by sexually assaulting her, and then by throwing her out of my room. All because she did the right thing, and turned down my advances.  
  
Katie takes the silence for almost half a minute, before it gets to her. Her eyes flip between me and Eli, and she takes a small step backwards, "I'm sorry. I'll go," she says.  
  
"Don't," Eli stops her. He glances at me, "I should go tell dad, we're taking mom's car," he says.  
  
I nod once, and watch, how he walks past Katie, and disappears down the stairs. Katie looks after him for a second, and then turns her attention back to me. She takes a few steps further into the room.  
  
"I'll leave, if you want me to," she says with the most honest face. She isn't hiding anything. Katie never hides things from me. She never lies to me, "But I'd really like to come to the funeral with you."  
  
"I don't want you to leave," I answer quietly, with a small smile.  
  
The thing about Katie is, that she's mine. And mine alone. No one else has any claim on her. Well, maybe her family does, but I don't care about them. In this world, she's all mine. I can't even imagine, where I'd be, if she hadn't come into my life. From out of nowhere. Between her and Eli, I think I have enough of a chance to survive this. At least, right this moment, it feels like I do. I'm on my way to bury my mother, and I don't feel hopeless. That's what matters.  
  
Katie smiles back, when I stand up, and head her way, "Can I bum a ride with you and Eli?" she asks.  
  
I take hold of her hand, and we start to descend the stairs, "Sure. But I call shotgun."  
  
I lead the way, two steps ahead of her, and so I don't see her face. But I can picture her grin, "Damn," she mutters quietly, and makes me smile again.  
  
Funny, how quickly my moods change. An hour ago, I'd rather have had my eyes gouged out, than leave my room. And now, when I take the last step through the doorway, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted of my back.  
  
And it's weird, how the world can sometimes seem so enormous.  
  
tbc 


	2. Part 2

Out Of Nowhere  
  
Part 2 of 2  
  
Author: Megan  
  
Disclaimer: All things 'Once and Again' belong to the creators of the show. I think.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please: shy_grrl@hotmail.com  
  
Archive: www.realmoftheshadow.com/megan.htm and www.jessiekatie.com  
  
Summary: Karen is dead, and Jessie's hurting. Sequel to 'Watching Little Birds Fly'.  
  
Author's Notes: A short attempt to describe Jessie's feelings, in the aftermath of her mother's death. Emphasis on short. I won't dwell on this too long. Timeline is... after 'Gardenia'. Though, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. This world is quite different from the real 'OandA' world.  
  
***  
  
Mom's house is so empty now. Even with all these people inside it, it's empty. No one lives here anymore. No one wakes up in the morning, walks down the stairs to make breakfast. Fetches the morning paper. Do they still deliver that? Is there gona be like a huge pile of them here next week? I should tell dad to cancel it.  
  
There should be so many memories here. They should be flooding all over me. Filling me with warmth and comfort. But no. I can only remember one. The one from the last morning. In the kitchen. When I realized, just how much she loved me. No, I've always known that she loves... loved me infinitely. It had just slipped my mind, and I was reminded of it that morning. Everything was so exciting. Life seemed so full of hope. I could see all these possibilities. I could see myself happily together with Katie. And with mom smiling at us. I could see everything working out.  
  
And then she has to go and die. Unfair. Now everything seems just so... hard. Hopeless. It isn't right, that children should outlive their parents. Who's gona take care of us, when they're gone? I want my mother back. I want another day with her. I'd spend it only with her. The whole day. It was an eternity ago, when I last devoted any time to her. She deserved so much better. She deserved children, who actually cared enough to be with her.  
  
"Jessie?" Grace calls out my name. She comes into the kitchen to invade my privacy. The lousy bitch. I lift my head enough to give her an empty stare, "Don't you... do you wanna get something to eat?" she goes on, and nudges her head towards the living room. I wonder, who sent her? Lily, probably. It's always Lily, when it's about food. No wonder, Grace is so fat... Right. Way to think like an anorexic freak, Jessie.  
  
"Got a tray of sandwiches, right here," I mutter, and nod down at the table in front of me.  
  
Grace glances at the tray, and then smiles stupidly, "Right," she says, and starts to fidget on her feet. I keep staring at her, making her more nervous by the second. She just doesn't know what to say or do around me, "Hey, can I have one?" she suddenly blurts, and takes a seat across the table from me. It's mom's seat. She always sat there.  
  
I squint my eyes, when Grace picks up one of the sandwiches. She smiles at me, and takes a bite out of it. How rude. I didn't say, she could have one.  
  
I let my gaze wander beyond my stepsister, and through the living room doorway. I can only see a small corner of the room from this angle. Mom's younger sister, Carol, sits there, vacantly observing the rest of the room. Mom's sisters. We haven't seen them much in the last few years. But they should know another side of her. A different Karen. The child she once was. I'd so much like to meet her. I want to know, what she liked doing as a child. What she dreamed about. If she was happy, or sad. If she was anything like me. But one funeral isn't enough time to get to know her. And then the sisters will be gone, and they'll take her with them.  
  
"Where are you going?" Grace mumbles, her mouth full of food, when I start to stand up.  
  
I look down at her, "To the living room," I say frowning.  
  
"Wait up," she says, cramming the rest of the sandwich into her mouth.  
  
I wince in disgust. How can someone eat like that? I'd choke, "Sure you don't want another one of those?" I say, pointing at the tray.  
  
Grace looks at me confusedly for a second, and then shakes her head. I leave her to struggle down the sandwich, and head for the living room. It's packed with people, and I freeze in the doorway. I look for familiar faces, and the only ones I find are Eli's and Katie's. Eli is talking to one of our cousins, and Katie has managed to stuff herself into a tiny space between the piano and a bookshelf. She seems to be very interested in something on the shelf, but her body is blocking the view, so I can't tell what it is.  
  
Dad's here too. And a lot of other people, I used to find familiar. But not anymore. They're strangers, who don't belong here. I turn slightly, and take a better look at my aunt Carol. There's an empty chair next to her, and I make towards it, "Carol. Hey," I say and come to stand in front of her.  
  
Her head is slow to catch on, but eventually she meets my gaze, "Jessie," she says with a small smile.  
  
I smile back, and sit down, "It was really nice that you came," I say for lack of a better opener.  
  
"Of course I came," she says, sounding a little confused, "She was my sister."  
  
I glance at her briefly, and then look down on my lap, "Yeah... of course... I just..." the words start to get stuck in my throat, and I quickly move on, "I wanted to ask you something..." just then my eyes involuntarily return to stare at Katie. And she's turned around enough for me to see her face.  
  
"What?" Carol asks, when I quiet down.  
  
I hear her question all right, but I can't get a word out of my mouth. Katie's upset. I see a tear sliding down her cheek. She quickly tries to brush it off. Her eyes are scanning the room, and when they sweep past me, she fights on a weak smile. A sad smile. Which is gone soon, and her face contorts from pain. She waits a second, and then bolts into action. In her hurried flight towards the exit, she bumps into my dad, mutters something under her breath, but never even slows down. I finally regain control of my muscles, when she disappears through the doorway leading to the hall and the front door.  
  
"Jessie, you okay?" Carol says. Her hand comes out and lands on my knee.  
  
"Yeah, sure," I startle from the touch.  
  
"Well, what did you wanna ask me about?"  
  
I look into her expectant eyes, and debate over what to do. Go after Katie, or stay here and ask my silly questions about mom. I hate choosing between Katie and my mother, "Just that... I was wondering... if I could come visit you..." I start to talk, and all these unfamiliar words come bobbing out of my mouth. I so didn't plan for that.  
  
"What do you mean?" Carol frowns, when I again pause for too long.  
  
I shake my head slowly, "Maybe in the summer or... you know what? Could you wait a while?" I finally blurt, and jump up from my seat, "There's something I have to do."  
  
I don't even stop to wait for her response, but immediately follow in Katie's footsteps out of the room. Her pain filled expression doesn't leave me alone. I can't understand, what could've upset her that much. She was so strong at the funeral. She's been so strong through the whole thing. I haven't seen her cry once. Not that I've been looking, for that matter.  
  
I find her on the stairs. Sitting on the second step. Leaning her head on the wall, and weeping quietly. With her eyes closed. I sneak right in front of her, baffled by the weirdness of it all, "Katie?" I whisper her name. She opens her eyes, and again tries to smile, failing miserably at it, "What's wrong?" I ask, frowning. Katie just shakes her head, and sobs some more. Her mouth opens a crack, but she doesn't say anything. I take a step closer, and sit down next to her, "Why are you crying?"  
  
She straightens her back, and bows her gaze down, "It's stupid," she mutters, laughing shortly through the tears.  
  
"What is, Katie?" I reach out with my hand, and place it on top of hers. Which are crossed on her lap. She separates them, and eagerly grabs hold of mine, "What's wrong?" I go on asking, when she doesn't answer.  
  
Her head turns, just enough for her to see me, "Chocolate," she whispers.  
  
"Chocolate?" I repeat incredulously. What does that mean?  
  
"The box of chocolate, I gave her on Christmas," she says. Oh, right. I remember that. But I still don't get, what there is to cry about?  
  
So, I furrow my brow, and shake my head, "Yeah. I remember that," I say, "What about it?"  
  
"It's stupid," she says, removing her eyes from me again.  
  
"You said that already," I snap, a little too irately. Her evasive behavior is making me nervous.  
  
"It's still there, on the shelf," she says, "And I don't know... it just reminded me of that day. How great it was. And how she won't ever again see another Christmas. And then I started thinking, how awful you must feel, and..." Katie's voice drowns in another patch of sobs.  
  
I'm left staring at her dumbfounded, when she takes her hands, and buries her face in them. It's so not like Katie to be crying over something so silly. It would actually suit me much better. But for some reason, it doesn't even make me sad. It's a happy memory, the Christmas. It makes me want to smile. And thank Katie for reminding me of it.  
  
But all that aside, I fall even deeper in love with this girl. She's crying over my mother, and she didn't even know her. It's so sweet. Brings tears to my eyes. And I place my arm over her shoulder, and pull her head closer to me. And press my cheek against hers. All the while she keeps sniveling.  
  
"I won't ever let anything hurt you again, Jessie," Katie whispers in a strangely determined voice, "You'll see."  
  
"Right," I reply absently. Well, she better just kill me then. Life hurts, that's how I know I've still got something to live for.  
  
Katie suddenly pulls back, and turns to stare at me with intense eyes, "No, I mean it," she speaks, and there's not a hint of doubt in her voice, "I will protect you, Jessie."  
  
I look back at her dubiously for a second. The sobs are gone now. I liked it better, when they were here, "You can't stop me from getting hurt, Katie," I say.  
  
"I can try," she shrugs.  
  
Our eyes stay locked together for a good time. She's acting very strong again. I liked how she didn't, for a while there. How she was just as weak as I am. Now she's all about control again. Wanting to protect me, and shelter me. Suffocate me. Like dad. And the rest of them. Like mom...  
  
"Don't, though," I stand up, shaking my head once, and take a step away from her.  
  
"What..."  
  
"Jessie?" dad's voice cuts Katie short. He comes cruising down the corridor from the living room. Summoned by my annoyed thoughts, no doubt, "Everything okay?" he asks.  
  
I gather up all my remaining will power, and manage not to wince. I can't take all this affection for much longer. It only feels like a cheap imitation of what mom had to offer. And it makes me angry, more than anything.  
  
"I'm okay, dad," I keep my voice even, and flip a glance between Katie and him, "I'm just... I'm okay."  
  
"You sure?" dad asks. He looks at Katie, who is feebly trying to wipe the drying tears from her face, and then back at me. Doesn't even bother to ask if Katie's okay. Doesn't care enough.  
  
"I said, I was fine," I snap, and head past him back into the room.  
  
Just before I reach the mass of people, I hear his voice again, "Are you okay?" he queries from Katie. And succeeds in evoking just the smallest bit of fondness in me.  
  
***  
  
Ideas pop into my head sometimes. And I don't ever even consider doing anything about them. They can pass through my mind in a matter of seconds, and the only reaction they get from me is a smile. That is, if it's an especially stupid one. But every now and again, I grab hold of one and just play around with it. And the more I think about it, the more it starts to make sense. Even though, it can be the worst idea ever conceived by a human brain, I can convince myself otherwise.  
  
This time it is the thought of visiting my aunt. At first it was just something I could see myself enjoying in some distant future. Then I gave it form by bringing it up with her. But it was still nothing more than an idea. And it probably wouldn't have been nothing more than that, if Katie hadn't barged out of the room, and drawn me and dad with her. But she did. And together, they managed to rile me up enough, so that I felt an extreme need to get away. And that's when the idea came back to me.  
  
It's really quite simple. I have to get away. Mostly from dad. But also from the others. Lily. And, loathe as I am to admit it, Katie too. I treat her like garbage, but with mom's death, I have an adept excuse for doing so. I am ashamed of using it, but that doesn't mean I won't, if I have to.  
  
There is such a thing as too much love. When it comes in the wrong form. Pity, for example. It's a disgusting form of love, when used in abundance. So is the smothering protective kind, parents tend to be fond of. I went crazy mad with mom sometimes, when she just would not let things be. And I can see and feel dad winding himself up for a similar fit.  
  
"You know, just for a week. I can easily get that much off from school now," I told my aunt in a frenzy. I told her, how I wanted to know more about mom. Maybe see the house, where she grew up in. And I would not let her get a word in edgewise, "I just... I need to get away, and I..." my voice started to get a desperate pitch to it, when I ran out of reasons, and she looked at me skeptically.  
  
"And what about your dad, Jessie? Your family? You need them now, more than ever," she finally spoke, when I quieted down.  
  
"No!... No. That's just it, I don't," I talked very loud, and we started gathering some looks from the other guests. I glanced around hopelessly, and leaned to whisper in her ear, "I need to get away. Somewhere, where it's not... right there all the time, you know? I just know I'm gona end up hating my dad, if I have to keep looking at him in his goddamn happy life, pretending that he's sad."  
  
"Jessie..." she still tried.  
  
"Please!" and I pleaded.  
  
She finally relented, and let her eyes take on a softer stare, "All right," she said, "Convince your dad, and I'd be happy to have you as a guest."  
  
And there it is. A plan cooked up in ten minutes in my feverish brain. And I'm so excited about it by now, that it has to work. It has to. A week away from dad and the Mannings. That is the main reason I want to go. I tried telling myself that it was so I could learn more about mom, but that's bullshit. Yeah, it could be fun hearing stories of her childhood. But mainly, I just want to get away.  
  
It's closer to seven, when most of the guests have finally dispersed. Dad and Lily are left on the couch. Aunt Carol still on the same chair. And me and Eli by the table. That's it.  
  
I draw in a long breath and try to psyche myself to open my mouth. Dad won't go silently into the night, "So, Carol, when are you going back to Boston?" he surprises me with the question.  
  
I see my aunt giving me a quick sideways glance, "Umm..." she starts to mumble.  
  
And I know this is my chance. So, I just jump in, "Actually, dad... there's something I wanted to ask you," I say.  
  
He's confused, when he's eyes turn towards me, "What, Jessie?"  
  
"Yeah... eh... I was thinking... that... maybe I could... that is..." I start to stutter incoherently, and the words, that come out of my mouth, form nothing even remotely resembling a sentence.  
  
"Jessie was wondering, if she could perhaps come visit me in Boston," Carol comes to my rescue.  
  
Dad is even more confused, when he's stare flinches back to my aunt, "What?" he shakes his head, "No. I mean... No. Of course not!" he says, and turns to look at me again, "Jessie? What is this?"  
  
His immediate forbidding rouses my spirit, and I gain more control of myself, "I just... for a week, dad. I wanna go there for a week," I say.  
  
"No. Absolutely not," he shakes his head furiously, "Where is this coming from?"  
  
"For a week, dad," I repeat through pursed lips, "I don't want to stay here."  
  
"You don't have to, we're going home."  
  
"This is my home!" I shriek out of frustration. His every word just makes me angrier, "I hate that other house even more! Please, let me go."  
  
"Jessie, no," he's starting to sound as desperate as me, "You belong here with us. We are family, and we can help you get through this."  
  
"Stop saying no. And I don't need to get through anything," my voice cracks slightly at the last word, and I have to pause for a few seconds, "There's so much I want to know about mom, and Carol is the only who can tell me," I bow my head down, and whisper, "It's just one stupid week."  
  
"I can't let you go like that, Jessie," he says, "I'll try to arrange some free time, and we can go together a little later."  
  
No! No! No! That would totally ruin the whole purpose! "Let me go, dad," I quietly whisper in a pleading voice.  
  
"Jessie, you have to know I can't. It just won't..."  
  
"I'll go with her," Eli interrupts him. And I turn a beaming smile towards him. I would kiss him, if he were a little closer. Eli I can take. He doesn't smother. And Eli is what's gona get me there. Dad won't be happy about it, but he has to let me go now, "I'll go with her," Eli repeats with a smile of his own.  
  
It is just one stupid week. The school will give me time off. Eli's got nothing to keep him here. And dad's objections are too weak. He can't come up with anything, but his lame family crap. Me and Eli are the ones who got hurt. Not him. Not the Mannings. They are not our family. And it's just one stupid week, out of many more stupid weeks that will follow.  
  
end, for now 


End file.

Once and Again, Drama