I Still Will Remain

The room was cold. But what did I expect? The old house was vacant now, and there was no heat to warm the December cold. Everyone, everything from my life was gone now. I looked around the room again, the same way I had done so many times before. Lighter squares of paint spotted the walls where my posters had once hung. The soft carpet was still the deep shade of crimson red that it had been since I could remember.1

Like snapshots from a picture album I remembered the gruesome scene. In just two rooms down, my parent's white carpet had been stained crimson. Crimson dotted the white carpeted steps to the downstairs. Crimson had purpeled the blue couch in the livingroom. Of course all of that had been changed so that the house could sell. "Not like that will happen soon," I thought to myself. I wish I could erase my mind like they had erased the blood from the house. I sank to my knees in sobs, looking down at my swelling abdomen. If it hadn't been for me, none of this would have ever happened.2

How had it ended like this?3

.............4

Let me take you back to the beginning. My name is Bonnie Renee Hamilton. Not exactly the name I would have picked, but it was my Grandmother's dying wish that someone carry on her name. Grandpa always said the name meant beautiful in Irish. I lived in the town of Westgate Massachusetts, for the entirety of my "formative years" as Grandpa would say. Westgate is one of those postcard-perfect little towns. Big colonial and victorian houses everywhere, the grass is a deep shade of green on every lawn, each lot has at least one shade tree if not more, and a lot of them even have those cliche white picket fences. It's small enough that it seems that there is never anything to do, but big enough that not everyone in town knows your business.5

Our house was a 19th century pale yellow victorian with a wrap-around porch. We had two huge shade trees in the front yard and one in the backyard that was paritioned off by one of those white picket fences. Mom's flower garden was also back there. In the springtime our backyard smelled of iris, lilacs and daisies, and in the summer the sweet scent of white roses. My family consisted of five people, my older brother Sam, my little sister Emily Grace, and my parents Jeff and Martha Hamilton. I guess we were pretty much like any "normal" family. We had our little fights, but in the end we all loved each other to death. That is, until I changed everything, but we'll get to that part later.6

I attended Pembrooke Prepatory Academy, the private school. I was considered to be one of the popular girls. Financial and social status are everything in this town, and my parents had both. Though many people at school considered me to be their "friend", I only consider myself to have had two close friends from Pembrooke: Courtney and Miranda. I knew those girls were my friends because of the real me, not just because of my status. We did practically everything together and we knew we could count on the other two if we ever had problems. 7

There was another school in town, Westgate High. I had a few friends from there that I took dance classes with, but usually the Pembrooke kids didn't really associate themselves with the kids from Westgate High. WHS is where *he* went to school.8

I'll never forget the first day I met him. I had been sitting out on the porch swing, just enjoying the beautiful April afternoon. All of the sudden a rock hit one of the porch posts. Startled from my daydream I cast a glare out towards the sidewalk, and there he was. He stood about six feet two inches with shaggy black hair that hung in his eyes. He was wearing a black "The Used" T-Shirt with a studded belt that had a skull and crossbones belt buckle and blue jeans. "Hey," he said.9

"Hey," I said pushing my light brown bangs out of my green eyes. "So....why did you throw a rock at my porch?"10

"I wanted to talk to the pretty girl sitting on the porch swing," he said as he smiled and kicked at the ground. "What's your name?"11

"Bonnie. It means beautiful."12

He smiled. "A name meaning beautiful is fitting of you. My name's Ian McClain."13

"Nice to meet you Ian," I answered. He was a pretty good looking guy even if he wasn't the type I'd normally go for.14

"Nice to meet you, too." Awkward pause. "Well, maybe I'll see you around sometime."15

"See ya around," I said and gave a slight wave. Obviously this guy didn't go to Pembrooke. I would have to call Michele, one of my dance friends, to get the low down on this guy. Though we'd only spoken a brief moment, there was something about this guy that I wanted to figure out. Since Michele knew everything about everyone, she would be the perfect starting point. Just as I was about to flip open my phone, my mother appeared behind the screen door.16

"Time for dinner, hon." she said. I immediately went inside. Mom was strict, and all about the family meal time togetherness. When we're eating the TV goes off and the phone goes unanswered. I guess it stems from the fact that Mom's family wasn't the most loving family ever, and Dad's family was big, loving, and always together- especially at mealtimes.17

I followed Mom into the kitchen. We have a fancy dining room for family gatherings and special occasions, but for everything else we eat around a small table in the kitchen. Emily Grace and Dad were already seated at the table when I got there. "Is Sam not coming tonight?" I asked.18

"Nope," Emily Grace answered. "He's got that girlfriend now."19

Mom sighed, slightly frustrated. "He could at least come once a week, but ever since he started dating that Larisa he won't come home. And they've only been together two months."20

Dad smiled. "Take it easy, Martha. It's young love! Surely you can remember how that feels?"21

"Oh I remember," Mom backhanded Dad's shoulder playfully while setting a plate of french bread on the table. "But at least you made a point to be home with your family at least some of the time. Oh kids these days..."22

And so began dinner. We talked of the usual things, how classes were going, how dance was going for me and how band was going for Emily Grace. Emily had just made first chair clarinet, and she was excited that the music they would be playing for the end of the year concert in May would have a clarinet solo. When we were finally excused from the dinner table, I ran up to my room to call Michele.23

"Hello?" she answered.24

"Michele? I got a question for you."25

"Shoot."26

"Do you know a guy named Ian McClain? He's kind of tall, dark hair, emo/goth scene type."27

"Sorta," she said. "Why do you ask?"28

"Because he came by my house tonight while I was sitting on the porch swing and just randomly started talking to me. It was kinda awkward," I explained.29

"Well I don't know much about him yet," Michele replied. "But that's because he's new. Just moved here last week, and he's kind of quiet. Do you think he's cute or something?"30

"Wellll, sorta." I answered truthfully. "There just seems to be something about him. It gives me this wierd feeling."31

"Wierd as in good or bad?"32

"Both."33

"Huh. Well, if I find out anything about him, I'll be sure to let you know. I have to go now. I'm teaching the beginning irish class tonight."34

"Thanks 'Chele. Have fun!"35

"No problem, bye." she replied and hung up.36

As I flicked my phone shut, that wierd feeling stirred inside of me again. What was it about this Ian McClain? I would just have to wait until the next time I saw him to find out.