Chapter 1- Alone

When your life takes shape in the very beginning, it lacks the radical complexities that intrude later on. You can simply put on a smile and everyone lines up to be your friend. It cannot always be this way. You find time pushing you forward, making you spiral into a world that does not always suit you. But one thing seems to remain regardless of age: you cannot help but wish that everyone would just line up to be your friend like before...1

Like most people, I did not like being alone. The absence of another was uncomfortable. Yet, for some reason, I felt the same when I was around anyone. It was always a possibility for me to be agitated, especially in the presence of others. 2

The crunching of gravel under tires rolled through my head endlessly, drowning out the swirling thoughts my head tried to procure. My mind was unique in the way that it worked. In fact, it seemed to work to well sometimes. It was kind of like one movement you made would tell me what you were about to say next. My mom seemed to tighten up in the driver's seat, fingers sliding over the inky black leather of the steering wheel. Her grip tightened on it again and she uttered small throat-clearing coughs. Her signals of wanting to have some deep discussion were never discreet in the slightest way. My eye brows furrowed and rose when I looked at her. There was no need in asking her what she wanted to talk about. She'd probably just start, uninvited, as she always did. 3

"So Noah," she began. Mom always seemed to get lost in her own thoughts in the way I do. Silence built up in the compressed space of the SUV. 4

"So Mom," I said eyebrows still risen. "I'm listening. Use your words," I teased with a half smile. She rolled her eyes. Flashes of light from other headlights in the rushing sea of cars illuminated her face in the chopped up shadows of night. 5

"You'll be okay at the dance... I mean without him?" she questioned, mahogany eyes pleading. They were such childlike eyes; innocent and wanting just one simple answer amidst all of the confusion. Mom was referring to Willis, my brother. My thoughts roared to life in my head again, competing with the noise of cars and their ever-impatient horns. Why did she have to bring him up? My own twin, my second half, my best friend: gone. Mom never failed in picking up my most dreaded thoughts and putting them center stage out loud. 6

"I guess so." It was a pathetic attempt at answering one question truthfully. I looked down at the rug under my sneakers.7

"It won't be bad. All of your friends will be there," she offered. "Won't they?" I rambled on names of my friends who actually felt like being social tonight. I didn't really know why I was going at all, honestly. Maybe it was because I didn't want to be alone in my room where my thoughts would manifest into something even more dismal than I already felt. That's why I hated being alone. Me being with people almost seemed as much of a headache, though. The tendency of wanting everyone to like me as a good friend magnified upon beginning junior high. It never was a problem with Willis. We were a packaged deal after all: you got his charm and humor and my respect and kind disposition. Change always made my life a wreck. That's why I was unsure of tonight. He was not with me. 8

Willis was missing, and my subconscious always drifted to the possibility that he was dead. Mom put on a good face, always hoping; always optimistic on the idea of him coming home again. My realistic point of view on the situation was grim...9

The car stopped in front of the school just as Mom finished discussing her idea of modest dancing and good behavior around my peers. She was so protective and maternal now. She had a reason to be, though. I assured her it would be okay. She seemed unconvinced. Her eyes wandered over my tall figure as I slid out and shut the door behind me with a slam. My simple wave dismissing her appeared to make her feel a little better. She waved back, and then the black paint of her SUV blended into the evening outlines of pure black darkness.10

There I stood at the foot of concrete steps, directly in front of Midway Middle School. People flooded in currents all around me, shifting directions while I stood there, stationary. Somehow I was dumbstruck, but not moving anywhere at all was a tempting way to spend three hours. 11

Pushed forward suddenly, I stumbled in the ledge of the first step. I spun around to see Emerson grinning with full teeth in the way he did when he felt like running into me instead of just saying hi. My right foot went back off of the first step, while I was smiling back at him. 12

"Ready?" he asked. "You look like... well I don't really know." He chuckled. 13

"Yup, let's go." We proceeded up the steps, and I was glad one friend had snapped me out of my trance. Surprisingly, Emerson didn't say much. I guess he knew I was thinking hard and not exactly in the mood to talk. 14

Cool air from outside was held back by the warmth from the school's gymnasium. Making not much of an impacting entrance inside, I walked with Emerson to the rest of my friends. It was odd how the few seconds I wasn't with them made me feel so awkward. 15

Daughtry blared in the background while loud conversations hovered all around. Perfume and cologne clung to my nose while the humidity and body heat wrapped it all together. What was I to be without Willis? I wasn't sure how people would treat me without him right next to me. That was why being around others bothered me. It was because of the fear of having one person judge me harshly. The two things I didn't agree with were occurring at this moment: I was surrounded by hundreds of teenagers, and yet I had never felt more alone in my fourteen years of life...