Black Moon Beginnings

BlackMoon Beginnings - By Kaitlyn Hoyt

Chapter One

School. That place where we are forced to go five out of seven days a week. It’s a place of ‘learning,’ as so many call it, yet I can’t wrap my head around it. I know it is necessary if we want to go out into the world and have successful careers, but are they really preparing us for anything? Will I take anything I actually learn in school and apply it anywhere else? Will I ever need to know how to find the derivative using the chain rule? Will I ever need to calculate enthalpy changes or annotate an English paper? School is my purgatory right now and all I want is to be set free.

“Ryanne Arden,” Mrs. Applegate calls off.

“Here.” It is the Friday before the last week of school and while most teachers slowly start tapering off their agendas, Mrs. Applegate teaches until the last minute, trying to cram everything into the end of the year schedule. I’d gotten the infectious senioritis disease way before it was acceptable to have it. I’ve already progressed past any curable stage. I, Ryanne Arden, have stage four senioritis and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

After hearing my name, I open my notebook and begin doodling. I used to be such a good student. I used to strive for perfection in my schoolwork. I was that over-achiever that everyone hated. “She’s such a hardworking and diligent student,” my teachers used to say. They wouldn’t say that anymore.

Getting lost in the drawing and adding details to make it perfect, I lose track of time. It’s not like I pay attention in school anymore anyways. Drawing is the only thing that I’ve been able to do recently that gives me any sort of satisfaction. Art is one of the few ways I can express myself without judgment, because no one besides me ever sees it.

Someone on the other side of the classroom drops a book onto the hard linoleum floor. The sound echoes through the classroom, jolting me back into awareness. Looking up at the clock, I am surprised at the time: 3:25 p.m. Only five minutes left of class. I hadn’t listened to a single word that Mrs. Applegate said during the duration of this block. I couldn’t; I can’t concentrate on school anymore.

It’s almost over. I only have to survive a week. One more week of high school and then I am out of this small town; out of the little town of Stormfield, Maine and onto bigger and better things. Well, that is what all my teachers said: “You all have big and bright futures ahead of you.”

The thing is, I have no idea what I want to do after school. I don’t have a plan like everyone else. Yes, I have applied to some colleges, but I don’t know where or if I even want go to any of them. I just know that I want out of this old school and out of this town. There are too many people here who know my story. There are too many memories and I just need to get away from it all.

I look down at my drawing and see a picture of model home. It is massive with its large stone exterior set in the woods. I want to live somewhere like that—away from everyone else, but close enough to others that I don’t feel so alone. Being alone in a sea of people is one of the worst feelings in the world. Though, my ideal home would be a little smaller.

I tear my eyes away from the paper and glance out the window. The sun is shining brightly today. The light illuminates everything. Reflecting off of car windows and mirrors, it’s difficult to look for too long.

“This weekend, you should all finish reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Your test is on Monday. This is an easy read. For those of you who haven’t started it yet,” Mrs. Applegate stops talking and stares straight at me, “I would recommend reading it this weekend.” The bell rings signifying the end of the school day. “Class dismissed.”

Gathering up my notebook and pen, I grab my bag from the floor, fling it over my shoulders, and head towards the door. “Ryanne, can I talk to you for a minute at my desk?”

I stop walking and look at the door. It’s so close. I could make it. Two steps and I would be out of the classroom. My conscience gets the best of me. With a sigh, I turn around and face my teacher, plastering on a small fake smile.

Mrs. Applegate is sitting at her old wooden desk. Her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck. With her reading glasses on, she squints down at the paper she has in front of her. Slowly, I walk up to the front of her desk and stop a foot away, waiting for her to finish. After putting the paper down, she takes off her glasses and looks at me.

“Do you know what your grade in this class is?” She pauses, waiting for me to reply. When I remain silent, she continues, “You are failing my class, Ryanne. I understand that you are going through a tough time. I’ve been lenient. However, this class is necessary to graduate. If you want to walk on Friday with everyone in your class, you must pass the test on Monday and the Final on Wednesday. I know you have not started reading this book yet, so I would suggest you go out and buy it tonight. Your grade depends on it.”

I nod, but remain quiet. I understand what she is saying. I don’t think I can take another year at this school. “Is that all, Mrs. Applegate?”

She looks up and stares at me for a couple of seconds. I recognize the look in her eyes. All adults who know what happened give me that look. With a disappointed sigh, she replies, “Yes, you may go.”

Turning around, I walk out of the classroom and towards the entrance of the school. I don’t even bother to go to my locker. I won’t do any of my other homework anyways. Throwing the door open, I’m prepared to be blinded by light, but it’s not sunny anymore. The sky is a light shade of grey with gloomy clouds completely blocking the sun.

Walking down the few stairs in front of the school, I walk past everyone making plans for the weekend and saying goodbye to their friends. I exit the parking lot and turn right to head towards Jane’s home. Jane is my legal guardian. She took me in when I had nowhere to go. She’s in her mid-thirties, but looks years younger than that. She’s gorgeous. Standing tall, she’s just short of six feet. With short pixie-like hair, she almost looks ethereal. However, she’s a workaholic—working six out of the seven days in a week. When she comes home from work, she continues to do work. Because of that, she’s seeing someone from her job. I’m often home alone during the days. Even when she’s here, it’s like I’m alone. I don’t mind though. I prefer the solitude.

As I turn the corner towards the house, I notice her new blue Ford Focus in the driveway. That’s odd. Jane’s never home at this time. The wind begins to pick up as I walk up the driveway. With anticipation building, I unlock the front door and walk inside. Jane is standing in the kitchen, making dinner, which is something that she also never does. I usually have to fend for myself after school, which means a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner. I can’t cook to save my life. I burn toast all the time. I don’t trust myself with any other kitchen appliance that could, in some way, cause damage to a home or inflict harm on those around me.

“Hey Jane, what’s up?” I ask while taking off my green converse shoes. Jane doesn’t allow anyone to walk on the carpet with shoes on. The white carpet has to remain in pristine condition.

She stops cooking and turns around. Ignoring my question, she replies, “Go put your books in your room. We need to talk.” Turning her back to me, she continues with dinner.

What could that be about? I walk up the stairs and into my boring bedroom, sighing as I look around. I hadn’t bothered to decorate much since I’ve been here. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay too long. My eighteenth birthday was a couple days ago and I am no longer in need of a legal guardian. When school is over, I’ll probably be kicked out and sent off on my own.

Brushing away the negative thoughts, I turn towards the computer in the corner of the room and turn it on.

As the computer slowly wakes up, I move to the other side of the room and look out the window. The sky has gotten darker since I’ve come home and large raindrops are beginning to fall. The clouds open up further releasing their sadness onto the Earth below. The sound of water resonates off the roof, while droplets stick to the window, creating a blurry illusion of the outside world. Pushing myself up from my window seat, I walk over to my bed and sit down, waiting for Jane to call me down.

“Ryanne, it’s time for dinner,” Jane yells up the bottom of the stairs.

At the dinner table, I begin to stir my peas around the plate. I never eat them. I hate peas. They’re the devil’s tasteless vegetable. But, I don’t want her to think that I don’t appreciate the meal, so I pretend to eat them.

“How’s school?” Jane asks.

“It’s fine,” I hesitantly reply.

“I got a call from your teacher this morning, Mrs. Applegate. Do you have anything to tell me?”

“Umm…nope. I don’t think so.”

She looks at me for a few moments, waiting. I know what she wants me to say, but I don’t. “You’re failing English, Ryanne.” Her voice starts to rise, slowly inching more towards a yell. “You need to pass that class to graduate! She said that you have a test on Monday over The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Have you read it?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, when do you plan on reading it?”

“Well…after I buy it.”

“You haven’t even bought the book yet?!” She stares at me, probably trying to determine if I am joking or not. “After dinner, you will go to the bookstore and buy it. I don’t want to hear any excuses. I understand that after your mother died, you needed some time. But it has been over a year, Ryanne. You have to start living again. She would want you to graduate. I can’t let you throw your life away like this.” Jane never mentions my mother unless she is very upset with me, because she knows how much it hurts me to think about her.

“Fine, I’ll go. But I don’t really have much of a chance of passing the class this late in the game.”

“But, you can at least try.”

Try. I’m not even sure I understand the definition of that word anymore. I stop pushing my peas around my plate and look up at her. Her face is full disappointment, but also full of faith in me. I know that I can’t let her down. Right now, she is all I have.