A Pink Carnation

By Jenna Edwards

Hope is a teenage girl. She loves her cat, and she loves her mom, and she loves her dad. But Hope starts to notice an unsettling pattern—people she cares about are taken away from her. This is the journey of one girl’s self-discovery and acceptance of who she is. As you bear witness to Hope’s struggles, you might feel as though you can relate; that’s because Hope shows you a part of yourself that you might not show to anyone else. Hope is a reminder to remember your journey because your story is how you came to be so perfectly you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796020229

Jenna Edwards

My childhood was not what you'd call normal. I've had my fair share of heartache, but I decided to turn it into something creative because that's how I cope. I have a lot of supports of my writing in my family, for which I am extremely grateful. But unlike my other work, this book is for me and my grandmother, someone who didn't like my work but supported me anyway. I'm so grateful for my friends and my two cats, Cookie and Beamer, as they help me through my day to day life as well. Lastly I'd like to say that we all go through shit in our lives, but we don't have to go through it alone.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 by Jenna Edwards.

ISBN:                Softcover                    978-1-7960-2021-2

                        eBook                           978-1-7960-2022-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/06/2019

Xlibris

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Contents

Part 1: Birthday party

Closet

Dad

Vomit

Saturday

Morning

The verdict on Jaws

School

Neighbors

Woods

Waiting

Walking

Bathroom talk

Class

The straw

A long walk

Out of the woods

End of the line

Hand off

Ruth

I remember

Driving

Aquarium

The octopus

Home?

Meeting Ruth’s kids

Speaking of Jaws

Bottom drawer

Paul

Part 2: A life for a life

Part 3: 17 birthdays

Gym class

Waiting for the bell

Mr. Zebroy

Work

Paul’s Birthday

Thunder

Almost

Eye contact

Ceiling

Hospital

People

Return to the Hospital

Night ride

Wake

Funeral

Part 4: Doctor, Dad

Flying and Falling

FEAR

Helping husband

I’m fine

Saying goodbye and hello

Surprise

Searching

UGLY

Unnoticed

Table time

Ambulance ride

Part 5: Therapist

Writing assignment

Exposed

A new story

New start

Dedicated to

my grandmother, Karen Ann Edwards; may her loving spirit rest well in Heaven.

Part 1: Birthday party

I take another shot, looking sheepishly over at the others while the warm liquid drips down the back of my throat. Elizabeth hands me another.

I- I don’t know guys…

Come on, Eric coos, one more.

I smile slyly at him, feeling my face heating up. I take my fourth shot of vodka and swallow sharply.

There you go. Marie says, smiling.

Why does it taste so bad? I ask.

Because you’re being a pussy. Elizabeth says, taking three more shots, one promptly after another, not wincing at the sting even once.

I look away, feeling foolish for having asked her. My legs feel like they’re made of jello when I try to walk to the bathroom. I trip on a leg of the glass table, stumbling to a fall into the wall. Eric and Elizabeth laugh, making my face burn. Marie comes over to help me to the bathroom.

Are you okay? She asks.

Yeah, I’m good.

Your lip is bleeding, you’re not good.

Oh, I must’ve hit it on the wall.

Marie grabs a piece of toilet paper and runs it under the sink. When the wet cloth touches my lip I realize that I did in fact hit the wall, hard too. I let out a whimper that makes me hate myself.

Shh. She soothes.

She stares at my lips for a long time after. Marie shakes her head, giving a weak laugh before looking back up at me and laughing again.

I’ve had too much to drink, she says, I think I’m gonna go home. Thanks for having me, Hope.

No problem.

I walk her back over to the living room. Marie grabs her jacket and hurries out, giving a small wave over her shoulder as a goodbye. Eric and Elizabeth stand up, grabbing their jackets also.

Wait, guys, the party isn’t over.

Oh, Hope, for you it is. Elizabeth says.

They both stumble out, arm in arm, laughing as they make their way down the cracked sidewalk. I sigh, walking over to close the door they neglected to. I turn on my heel and stop when I see the mess they made from the time I went to the bathroom and came back. Chips are smashed into the white carpet and cans of soda are crushed, leaking purple liquid onto the cushions. A halfway empty bottle of vodka stares at me with shot glasses lining the edge of the table where Elizabeth sat.

I start with screwing the cap back onto the vodka bottle and collecting the shot glasses, the sticky syrup getting over my palms. I rinse them out in the sink and stack them up to dry them out. Next, I take all the shot glasses and bring them back into my room, hiding them in the safety of my underwear drawer.

I walk back out to the living room and begin scrubbing the purple mess forming on the cushions. It mostly comes off but mostly won’t cut it, so I turn the cushion over. The vacuum has to be hauled out of the closet in my mother’s room, but, I’m not supposed to go in there. I look back at the mess and decide it’s worth the risk to go in.

Closet

I walk slowly down the hallway to the end door, walking with one arm out in front of me. I glance back at the living room, specifically at the front door. My hand finally grips the door handle before turning it and pushing it lightly open. The room is dark, filled with the emptiness of the night. I tiptoe over to the closest even though I’m the only one home. The vacuum is heavy and scrapes along the floor since the wheels were broken off by Alan when he threw the whole vacuum at my mother. She wasn’t hit, as she had enough time to get out of the way, but one of her vases wasn’t so lucky.

I vacuum the entire carpet just in case any of the mess spread. Then I take the vacuum and put it back exactly where I found it in their closet. I’m almost finished when I hear the front door opening. I run out of the room, slamming the door behind me to ensure it closes.

Did I hear a door slam? Alan asks.

No. I lie.

Liar! I knew I heard a door slam!

Then why did you ask?

Alan storms over, getting really close to me, standing a foot and a half, give or take, taller than me. He looks down at me with his angry little eyes, about to say something soul-crushing no doubt. My mom stops him, placing her hand on his raised arm.

Not on her birthday. Please, Alan. She says gently.

His muscles relax and he takes a breath, closing his eyes tightly while doing so.

Fine. He finally manages, pushing past me.

Once we hear the bedroom door slam behind him my mother smiles at me and gives me a hug. She looks tired, more so than usual. Her blonde hair is in a tight little ponytail that sticks out in all directions. Her nurse outfit has small droplets of blood spatter that span across her chest. But I doubt that tonight she’ll even notice.

Happy birthday, Hope.

Thanks, mom.

Did you have fun with your friends?

Yeah, it was great.

Good.

How was work?

Well, it was long. I’m just glad it’s over.

As if on cue, Alan calls my mother into their bedroom from the doorway. He doesn’t have a shirt or pants on. She looks at me in a way that almost says sorry, but I shrug it off. I know she doesn’t always have a choice in the matter. I go to my room, closing the door lightly so I don’t slam it by accident. I can hear the start of an argument in the next room. Mom told him she was tired. She shouldn’t have done that. I pull my headphones on.

My cat, Beamer, jumps up next to me. I smile and pet his orange fur. He purrs hard and nudges my hand with his head as if he’s trying to tell me that everything is okay. My face starts twisting into the one I make when I’m trying really hard not to cry, but it never works. He tilts his head at me in confusion. I smile at him, tears running down my cheeks. I keep petting him, trying to convince him that I really am okay, but he knows me too well. Beamer stands up and walks to my face, rough licks from a tongue that takes the tears away.

You’re my best friend. Did you know that?

He answers only with a purr.

Dad

I check my phone for a call from my dad. I sigh when I find nothing. It’s probably better if I give him a call, so I sneak out of my room through the window.

Hello?

Dad, it’s me.

Oh. Happy Birthday, Hope.

Thank you.

I was actually on my way over there to tell you in person.

Really?

You bet.

How close are you?

I’m pulling up now.

See you soon!

Okay, bye. He says hanging up.

I see his big red van pull up. Its patches of rust are marks of beauty and shows the years on the old clunker. Although, on special occasions he does get it cleaned. I guess today was a special occasion for him.

Dad! I yell, running up to him.

Hope! He yells, pulling me up into his arms for a bear-hug.

What’d you get me? A pony?

Darn, you know me so well.

James! My mother yells, coming outside in a robe and slippers, What’re you doing here? She asks.

I just wanted to see my daughter on her birthday.

You have your scheduled days and I have mine, now leave before I call the police. Hope, come on, we’re going inside now.

Bethany, please, it’s her birthday.

Don’t you, Bethany, me! Hope, come on! Now!

I start walking in with her but look back to see my dad waving at me from the side-door of his rusty, old, van. I smile and wave back. My mother sees and puts my hand down. I pull away from her cold touch and run back to my dad for one last hug. I stub my toe on his steel-toed boots and stifle a scream. My face contorts as I hold back salty tears that threaten to unleash themselves unto my chilled skin.

You okay? He asks.

Mhm. I manage, biting my lip so I don’t scream from the pain.

You sure? He asks again.

I nod, running back to my mother who waits for me in the front doorway with Alan standing behind her. I don’t look back this time, only focusing on getting back inside the house so I can breathe again. Once she closes the door I start crying, holding my foot to my chest.

What did he do to you? Why’re you crying?

He didn’t do anything. I stubbed my toe.

Then why’re you crying? Alan asks.

I don’t answer him.

Put some ice on it. Mom says.

They both walk back to their room and I hobble over to freezer for some ice. My toe looks fine other than having a bit of a purple tingle, but boy does it hurt. I find a rag to wrap the ice in and slowly place it on the toe, to which I nearly jump out of my skin from the pain. I go back to my room to lay down and be with Beamer, the orange tabby my dad got me for a previous birthday. Alan hated Beamer right away, which makes me love Beamer even more.

Alan and my mother start fighting again, this time about me. I can hear Alan say that I have more freedom than he does. I pull back out the bottle of vodka, guessing it’s just one of those nights. Plus it’ll help with the pain. I pull on some headphones to tune them out. Beamer lays next to me again, purring hard enough that I can feel the vibrations from his neck against my forearm. I scratch his tail end, making him stretch his paws out, using his claws to paw at the blankets. In ten months he’ll be three years old. I got him on my tenth birthday. He was only six weeks old when I got