I Know How You Feel

After what felt like hours of sobbing my older sister came through the door and tossed me over her shoulder (she’d definitely been working out after that embarrassing scene at the hospital) and took me downstairs.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“It’s my Spring break,” she said flatly.

“Oh.”

I was put into a chair and my sister left the room. I started crying again softly. My top was drenched in tears. There was arguing in the entryway and I cursed under my breath. It was about me. My stupid ability let me know that loud and clear. I just wished it would go away. I hurt somebody with it. I was wrong; it wasn’t a gift. It was a curse.

“Olivia?” my mom said. I jerked up and realized she was sitting down at the table in a chair next to mine.

Then a thought crossed my mind. What if I did kill her?

My breathing picked up.

“Olivia?”

Even if I didn’t kill her, whatever I did to her could have been just enough. It could have been too much for her and she could be dead. Brain gone. Just an empty body. All because of me.

I burst out into worse crying than before. My lungs felt like they were going to split open.

“She’s dead.” The thought played over and over in my mind. That was until a hand came out of nowhere and smacked me.

“She’s not dead!” my dad yelled.

I flinched but was startled into silence. I didn’t realize I was saying it out loud. I wiped my face with my sleeve and steadied my breathing. My dad wasn’t lying. I saw in his thoughts that my mom had heard news from the hospital that Misty was awake and eating.

She wasn’t dead.

I didn’t kill her.

She’s alive.

“I’m okay,” I said my voice hoarse.

My mom’s color was bright red and I knew it was aimed towards my dad. Stupid curse.

“You didn’t have to smack her,” she snapped.

“Well nothing else was working,” he grumbled. My dad’s thoughts were filled anxiety. Everyone’s were. They’d never seen me act this way. I hadn’t ever seen me act this way.

My sister came over and rubbed my back. I tried not think of anything. Maybe just of a time before all the madness. A time before any of my friends hit puberty and teenage hormones weren’t flying everywhere.

They were running in the snow with garbage can lids dragging behind us. Richard is taking the lead and Sam and I are following bundled up like snowmen. I look back to see our footprints in the snow. They’re not very steep which means the snow was starting to compact. Maybe the school would have another snow day, I thought. I ran to catch up with Richard and my makeshift sled bounced behind me.

“Richy, where are we going?” I asked cheerfully.

“Up the big hill, Olive,” he answered moving faster.

I looked up the hill and gawked at how tall it was.

“Richy?” I called.

“What Olive?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“Quit being a baby, Olive. It’ll be fun!” Sam said running past me and up the hill. I trudged slowly behind them and one by one we went down. I was last. I looked down and shivered not from the below freezing temperatures.

“Come on Olivia!” Sam yelled. I set the sled in front of me but I didn’t get on. Richy walked up the hill and grabbed my hand.

“I’ll get on with you, Olive. It’s no big deal. I was scared too when I was little,” he said.

He sat down and patted the spot behind him. I folded my arms and sat down. Richy was only a year older than me and I was not going to let him call me little. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he pulled his feet up.

“I’m not littl-,” the rest of my thought ended with a scream as we slid down.

“Olivia?” a voice called. I snapped out of it and stared at the wall.

“Olivia?” it was my dad’s voice.

“Don’t you dare smack her again,” I heard my mom snap. My eyes shot to her and I got up.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I said weakly.

I turned and walked upstairs. My mom was busy debating if she should let me go and my dad and my sister were really worried about me. I really couldn’t freak out like that again. I walked up the steps and into my room. I wasn’t exactly planning on sleeping but once I hit my tear-stained pillow I was out instantly.

I woke up later than I expected on Saturday. My chest felt like someone had laid a bag of cement on it and my eyes felt swollen shut. I realized that I had never cried that much in my entire life. I got up slowly and walked downstairs. Walking to the kitchen, I looked at the clock on the microwave. 12: 04 P.M. They would all be at Nicholas’ soccer game. I called out and no one answered. It looks like they trusted me to be alone.

I poured a bowl of cereal and debated on what to do. By the time I was done eating, I decided on the library. It was just down the road from our house. I wasn’t much of a reader but I found whenever my life was a mess, books always gave me an escape.

I walked into the library and walked around, waving to the librarian at the desk. I really had no idea what I was in the mood for. Maybe a historical fiction? I walked towards that aisle and found a circular rack. I spun it a few times and tried to pull a book off. It wouldn’t budge. Hearing a familiar voice in my head, I looked around. When I didn’t see anybody I pulled the book out quickly and turned around to look for the voice again. A huge bang filled the library and I saw the rack I was messing with and all the remaining books in it fall off in a pile in people’s thoughts.

“Ragni bruciati!” I cursed under my breath.

I didn’t even mean to say it. It just came out. My mom would say it all the time when I was little. I debated walking away but then I heard a chuckle that could melt the coldest of hearts. I looked up to see Romeo D’Arco with a huge gorgeous smile. That was whose thoughts I recognized.

As soon as I realized he heard what I said I got really embarrassed. “Oh, um, hi, Romeo. I didn’t realize…”

“Hello, Olivia,” he snickered, “I don’t mean to laugh at you. I am sorry. Just what you say…”

“What? Oh, you mean…”

“Ragni bruciati… do you know what that means in English?” he asked.

I thought about it.

“No,” I answered still embarrassed.

“Burnt spiders,” he said.

“You’re lying.” I started to snicker.

“No, I am serious,” he said.

I burst out laughing and he laughed with me.

“Shhhhh…,” the librarian said.

I covered my mouth and walked over to the fallen rack. Romeo helped me lift it up and we began put books back on.

“Where did you hear that from?” he asked in a low voice.

“My mother is Italian,” I answered.

He nodded.

“Oh, and she also hates spiders,” I added smiling.

He chuckled and we finished putting the books up. After that we sat down in the historical fiction section.

“So, what brings you to the library?” I asked.

“I am reading famous American fiction,” he said.

“Oh, what are you reading?” I asked.

“Twilight.”

I started laughing again.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just find it funny that’s the first book you read. Considering that’s the only book Sam has read for fun,” I said. It was true. Sam wasn’t much of a reader.

“Oh?” he looked down at his hands and changed the subject.

“Is your mother from Italia or does she just speak Italian?”

“She emigrated from Naples when she was ten,” I explained. “You should come over sometime and meet her. You guys could talk and stuff.”

“That would be nice,” he smiled the heart-melting smile again.

“Oh, yeah, my mom would want to cook for you. She’s the best cook. She cooks a lot of traditional Italian dishes that my nonna taught her to make,” I added.

“Oh real Italian food? Si, per favore!” he exclaimed.

I smiled. “Oh, where are you staying?”

“A few streets down from here. A wonderful family offered me their home. The Johnstons.”

“Wait, do they have a little red haired girl?”

“Si.”

“Oh, my gosh,” I gasped. “You live down the street from me.”

“In truth?” he asked with a dubious expression on his face.

“Si!” I squeaked.

He laughed and got up.

“Oh, and I have a copy at my house that you can borrow,” I said. “That way you don’t have to go through the trouble of getting a library card.”

“Oh, thank you. I will keep it undamaged,” he said.

“Right,” I said.

We walked back to my house and I opened the door.

“Mooom.”

No one answered.

“Here, I’ll go upstairs and get it,” I said. I took the stairs two at a time and burst into my room. Quickly looking through my shelf, I found the book and ran back down the steps.

“You are fast,” he said with a little tug of sadness in his words.

“Yeah? Sorry, I can’t have boys in the house when nobody’s home.”

“Oh, why not come over to where I am staying then?” he suggested.

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Of course, Missus Johnston wanted me to bring someone over anyway, she said that she thinks I should make friends so I’ll come back,” he chuckled.

“Oh, ok.” I said slowly, “I’d love to. I’ll just write a note and to tell them where I am,” I added.

I quickly grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a note. Romeo was looking over my shoulder the whole time but I really didn’t mind. Unlike most people, the fact that he was in my personal space didn’t really bother me that much. Maybe it was because he felt like family or the fact that he smelled really nice. I was tempted to ask him what he was wearing but I continued to scribble down words.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I went to the Johnstons. I’ll be back whenever.

-Olivia

“You have beautiful script,” he commented.

“Oh, thanks,” I mumbled. I’d never noticed it before but I guess I did have fairly nice handwriting.

“You are welcome.”

“Right, to the Johnstons.”