Dark Harmony

Permission slip

Now that he was gone, my dad and I had some unfinished business. I walked into the kitchen, he was putting the plates away, the clinking of dishes filling the silence.

“Dad, why did…” I started, but he took the words right out of my mouth.

“Say you should go for that retreat,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, like a summer breeze on a cloudy day.

I needed an explanation, my mind racing with questions. “Precisely,” I replied, my eyes locked onto his with a serious expression.

“It’s worth 40% of your grade. I know how much your grades mean to you,” he added, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

“One bad grade won’t kill me,” I shrugged, trying to downplay the importance, but my dad’s expression remained stern.

“I want you to have a normal life, Ellie,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion, as he turned to face me. The dim light in the kitchen highlighted the lines on his face, making him look older, wearier.

“Is anything about my life normal at all?” I shot back, my voice rising, tears welling up in my eyes like a stormy sea. “Dad, that ship sailed years ago, unless you get me the help I desperately need,” I pleaded, my voice cracking, my heart heavy with sorrow.

“ Ellie nobody wants that more than I do, but this is beyond us both.” Tears welled in my eyes and threatened to fall like raindrops on a gray day. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I ran out of the kitchen, the sound of my feet echoing through the hallway, and went straight to my room. I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound reverberating through my chest.

Completely devastated, I crawled into a dark corner of my room, surrounded by the shadows, and cried my eyes out. The tears streamed down my face like a river, soaking my pillow, my body shaking with sobs.

Dawn broke, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as I woke up early, like every school day. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, the softness of my bed a comforting familiarity. I got myself ready for the day ahead, my routine a soothing ritual. I wore my usual clothes – a pair of worn sweatpants and a faded hoodie, the soft fabric a gentle caress against my skin. The scent of fresh laundry wafted up from my shirt, a reassuring smell that calmed me.

I tied my hair in the usual ponytail, the familiar tug on my scalp a comforting sensation. I grabbed my backpack, the worn straps a testament to its faithful service, and slung it over my shoulder. The weight of my books and folders was a familiar burden, one I carried with ease.

I made my way to school without bothering to say good morning to my dad. I knew he’d be hurt by it, but I was still upset at him, the anger and frustration lingering from our previous conversation.

As I walk the 3-mile path to the bus stop, the crisp morning air fills my lungs, and the scent of dew kissed grass and blooming flowers calms my restless mind. The secluded outskirts of Portland, where we’ve lived for five years, feel like a world away from the city’s bustle. The trees cast dappled shadows on the ground, their leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze like a lullaby. I lose myself in the rhythm of my footsteps, the world slowly coming alive around me.

But my serenity is short-lived, as memories of that terrible night creep in. I was 11 when we moved here, and now, at 16, the mysteries of that night still haunt me. My father says it was a fire that took her from us, that our old house in San Francisco was consumed by flames. But I don’t remember anything about that night. Just the sound of shattering glass, my father’s anguished cries, and the feeling of being pulled away from the only home I’d ever known.

We left everything behind, the city, our friends, our old life. My father said it was to start anew, to escape the pain of our past. But I know better. He’s hiding something from me, something about that night, but what was it?

I boarded the bus and my attention was quickly droned to a quiet spot at the back. I took my seat in the tucked away corner, hidden from the rest of the passengers. In no time I approached Ravenswood High School, the sounds of chatter and laughter carried on the wind, a familiar cacophony that I slipped into with ease. I joined the stream of students flowing into the building, just another face in the crowd.But the darkness inside me stirs, whispering that I’m not like them, that I’m something more.

I took a moment to acknowledge my surroundings, the sounds of excitement and murmurs filling the air as students greeted each other with ease. Yet, I constantly felt like an outsider, a prisoner in my own life, trapped by my own body. The uncertainty was suffocating - when did it all start? I had no idea. What was the source of this problem? I had no idea. What did I do to deserve this? I had no idea. Why was this happening to me? I had no idea! The questions swirled in my mind like a vortex, leaving me feeling lost and helpless.

But then, I saw him - Ryan, with his bright smile and warm eyes. My grief took a temporary vacation, and a warm, fuzzy feeling inhabited my body, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. That's all I needed to make my mood brighter, to make the darkness recede. His presence was a balm to my soul.

"Good morning," Ryan's deep voice was music to my ears, a warm and soothing melody that seemed to calm my nerves and lift my spirits higher.

"Good morning, Ryan. Thanks for the notes," I replied, handing him back his book. He smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I'm always glad to help," he said, his gaze holding mine for a moment longer than necessary. "How are you feeling now?"

"Much better, as you can see," I replied, trying to sound casual despite the warmth spreading through my stomach like a slow burning fire. "I'm back to my healthy self."

"Great news," Ryan continued to smile, his eyes never leaving mine. The warmth at the deep end of my stomach kept getting warmer, like a flame flickering to life.

Just then, a throat clearing noise behind me broke the spell. I turned to see my greatest rival, Evelyn Butcher, standing behind me with a saccharine smile plastered on her face. She was the prettiest, one of the smartest, and above all, the meanest girl in school. I didn't have much of an issue with all that, but what didn't settle well with me was the fact that she was Ryan's girlfriend.

"What's going on, darling?" Evelyn asked, her voice dripping with sweetness as she hooked her arm through Ryan's. She was marking her territory, not that she really needed to. Ryan was already hers, and everyone knew it.

"Oh, I went to Ellie's house yesterday to give her notes on the lessons she missed," Ryan replied, his eyes flicking to mine for a moment before returning to Evelyn.

"You're so sweet," Evelyn cooed, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. "One of the other reasons why I love you so much." She kissed Ryan, a quick peck on the lips, but it was enough to make me feel a pang of jealousy.

Evelyn's eyes flicked to mine, a triumphant glint in their depths. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it was working. I felt a surge of annoyance, mixed with a healthy dose of frustration. Why did Ryan have to be with her? Why did he have to be so nice to me, only to turn around and kiss her like that? It was all so confusing, and I didn't know how to process it.

I slipped into my seat, trying to go unnoticed as the social studies lesson began. Mr. Jacobsen's voice droned on, but I couldn't focus. My mind kept wandering back to the retreat. As soon as the lesson ended, I gathered my courage and approached Mr. Jacobsen as he exited the room.

"Sir, I wanted to know if there's any other way I can make up for the 40% if I don't go for the retreat?" I asked, trying to sound confident despite my racing heart.

Mr. Jacobsen turned to face me, his stern expression making me gulp. His eyes seemed to bore into my soul, as if searching for any sign of weakness.

"Miss Grey, you've missed each and every one of the retreats since you started school here. Why?" he asked, his voice firm but with a hint of disappointment.

My mind went blank, and all I could manage was a weak "Um..." The silence that followed was oppressive, making me feel like I was drowning in my own inadequacy.

"Your failure to attend these retreats is the reason why you have little to no connection with your peers," Mr. Jacobsen said, his words cutting deep. "You can't keep on isolating yourself, Miss Grey. It's not healthy."

I tried to protest, but Mr. Jacobsen cut me off. "I teach you kids the importance of socializing with others. It's not that hard to spend one weekend away from home."

I felt a surge of frustration, but before I could respond, Mr. Jacobsen dropped the bombshell. "Miss Grey, if you don't go for this retreat this time, I'll be forced to fail you for my class, and you will have to make up for it in summer school."

“Summer school!”The words echoed in my mind like a death sentence. I couldn't believe what I heard.

"Yes, is that what you want?" Mr. Jacobsen asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "No, sir, but—"

But Mr. Jacobsen wasn't interested in listening. "Good, here, give this to your father to sign," he said, handing me the permission slip. "Have a wonderful day, Miss Grey."

And with that, he turned his back on me, leaving me feeling defeated and helpless. I couldn't find the strength to move from my spot, my eyes fixed on the permission slip as if it was a ticking time bomb.