Date: Thu, 16 Dec 2004 00:13:02 -0500
From: Shane Lee <angel_lost_in_oblivion@hotmail.com>
Subject: Beauty of Solitude (3)

The Beauty of Solitude

CHAPTER 3


	"Shane..."

	The sound of my name sends icy shards through the thin veil between
dreams and reality, gripping my mind in a desperate attempt to bring me
back to consciousness. Cold claws slowly tear me away from my confinement
against my will, silently bringing my five senses back to life. I tightly
squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the voice and what it brings into the realms
of my subconscious.

	"Shane..." the voice repeats.

	A pursuit in any further sleep has been taken from me with my name
being repeated a second time. Familiar smells of the morning begin to seep
into my brain through my nose making my return into my sleep mpossible; I
recognise the scents as breakfast coming from downstairs. My eyelids open a
crack, sending rays of burning light into my pupils as they try to adjust
to the sudden burst of unwanted sunlight. Every muscle in my body begins to
awaken; my legs stretching out towards the bottom of my bed and my arms
extending into the air above me. A cold breeze sweeps through the room
sending goosebumps crawling across my skin as it flows out of my bedroom
through the open door and into the hallway. My eyes finally adjust to the
light of the room and focus on the figure standing in the doorway; my
youngest brother, Jonathan.

	"It's time to get up," he says with a smile. "We have school
today."  I can sense the excitement in his voice, something I've never
heard in my own voice when it came to school. He is already dressed for the
occasion, wearing a brand new pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt that
seems to magnify his blue eyes. Wet, wavy blonde hair gently falls around
his face, stopping just above his eyes in the front and below his ears on
the sides. His jeans are much too big for his slender frame, his style of
clothing coming from my other brother, Matt. Surprisingly, that is the only
trait Jonathan has received from him.

	"All right," I manage to say after a few moments. He turns to leave
the room, leaving my door open as he walks down the hall and disappears
down the stairs.

	I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for my body to return to
complete consciousness. Just enough of the sun has risen for direct rays of
light to pour into my bedroom and onto my bed, shining across my face. The
familiar sound of cars driving along the street on the other side of our
backyard follows the sunlight; the world is coming to life. Trees stand
nearly leafless in our backyard, their branches reaching into my line of
vision like thousands of bony fingers as I tilt my head to look
outside. Few clouds litter the morning sky with no indication of the
previous nights' storm.

	Slowly sitting up, I stretch once more at the request of my
muscles.  I let out a long yawn, planting my feet firmly on the floor
before standing up. My clothes for the day have already been chosen and lay
on top of my dresser folded neatly, adjacent to my brand new binders and
notebooks. I can hear laughter coming from the first floor, the voice
recognisably belonging to my mother.  Ignoring it, too, I pick up my
clothes and leave the room, turning to the right.

	The newly tiled floor of the bathroom is cold to the touch, each
step sending an icy chill through my feet. Hunter green shower curtains
border the bathtub on the opposite side of the room, with matching floor
mats placed on the floor in front of it, as well as in front of the toilet,
where a hunter green seat cover is spread. Navy blue towels hang from the
towel rack on the wall across from the toilet, a nice contrast to the green
that is the dominant colour of the house. The air is humid and warm, a
dense fog completely coating the mirror above the sink to the point where a
reflection is barely seen.  Reaching the bathtub, I pull the curtains
back. Drops of water roll down the tile wall and across the porcelain
bathtub, unable to prevent the natural flow of gravity that takes them to
the drain.

	I turn to the right, grabbing a towel off the rack and wiping the
surface of the mirror clean. Hair falls in random strands around my face; I
can feel the end of my hair brushing against my lower back with each swing
it takes. I removed the ponytail before falling into slumber, leaving my
hair in a mess of tangles when I woke up. Dark circles have formed below my
eyes from my obvious lack of sleep, the colour drained from them making
them a cold, stone-grey compared to their normal ice-blue. My eyes are such
a peculiar part of my body, their colour altering to suit my mood.

	I return to the bathtub, water coming out of the faucet at my
command.  Adjusting the temperature with a few small turns, I pull my
boxer-briefs off and toss them in the corner of the bathroom, stepping into
the bathtub and pulling the curtains shut behind me. With one quick turn of
a third knob, a stream of water jets out of the shower head and hits my
body. The blast of cold water is unexpected, causing me to take a step
back, but it changes temperature quickly, matching what I set it to moments
before. Steady streams run down my bare body, dripping off and hitting the
porcelein beneath my feet, following the rest of the water into the drain.

	The warm water feels wonderful against my skin, each stream washing
away more than just any dirt, it seems. I find the water takes away any
negative emotions or thoughts I may be having, the heat putting my mind at
ease and the water relaxing every muscle it touches. Often, I can find
myself getting lost while taking a shower, the relaxation enveloping my
body like the steam coming from the hot water. My hair clings to my back,
straightening out as more water runs through it. Each strand that had
previously framed my face had now joined the the rest of it, giving me
ample room to shave without fear of slicing through any hair with the
razor.

	Twenty Minutes pass, my body now completely scrubbed clean and my
hair thoroughly washed and conditioned; my face now smooth from
shaving. The water slowly gets colder with every second that passes, every
drop of hot water being emptied from the tank in the basement. Before it
gets too cold, I turn off the water and open the curtains once more,
grabbing another towel off the rack and drying myself off. The towel joins
my dirty boxer-briefs in the corner as I pull on a fresh pair, followed by
a clean pair of jeans. I make sure to put on my deordorant before my black
t-shirt. Picking up the brush, I take it through my hair in slow, even
strokes, all the tangles gone. Reaching behind me, I take it and put it in
a ponytail, a sure way to keep it from falling in my face throughout the
day. I can feel the dampness seeping through from it onto my shirt, leaving
a line of wet cloth clinging to my skin. The blue has flooded back into my
eyes, replacing the grey, the shower dinstinctly rejuvinating me and
erasing the dark circles that had been beneath my eyes; my face is now full
of life.

	I grab my toothbrush from below the mirror and squeeze toothpaste
onto the bristles. Turning on the cold water and letting it splash into the
sink, I place the head of the toothbrush underneath the clear liquid for a
brief moment, just long enough for the water to soak it. Putting the
toothbrush in my mouth, I gently scrub my teeth, taking extra time to make
sure I have reached every area and every crevice. Brushing my teeth is
quite meticulous, always taking my time to make sure they are thoroughtly
cleaned. I can taste the spicy cinnamon of my toothpaste burning against my
tongue, killing any traces of bacteria that may have made residence on the
muscle and anywhere else in my mouth for that matter.

	"Shane!" I hear my mother shout from the bottom of the stairs. I
quickly spit the now-foamy liquid into the running water and watch it
disappear down the piping.

	"What?" I shout back, matching her tone and her volume.

	"Hurry up! Matt needs to get a shower and you've been in there for
an hour!"

	I shake my head and roll my eyes simultaneously, knowing well that
I have barely been in the room a half an hour, let alone a whole hour.
Jonathan must have been in the shower before me, which would explain why
there was water on the walls around, as well as in the bathtub when I
pulled open the curtains. Picking up my dirty clothes from the corner, I
open the bathroom door and toss them into the hamper on the other side of
the hallway. Matt is standing in the doorway of his own bedroom at the very
end of the 'L' shaped hallway, his arms crossed and his face staring at me
with an annoyed expression across his face. My showers are nothing compared
to the ones he takes.

	Laughing softly to myself, I turn and head back into my bedroom,
scooping up the binders, notebooks, and writing utensils off my dresser and
placing them in my backpack. Behind me, I hear the bathroom door slam shut
and lock. Had that been me, I would have surely gotten an earfull from my
mother. Oddly enough, I am the oldest and the most responsible, and yet, if
I do anything wrong, I get the highest degree from everyone around me. My
brothers would be able to get away with murder in this household.

	The zipper slides closed easily, securely locking all my school
materials inside. I swing it over my back, closing the door behind me as I
walk out of the room. Stopping, I make sure the door is locked before
heading down the hall. As I pass the bathroom door, I can hear the shower
running, just enough hot water to last a few minutes more before the water
turns ice cold. Another laugh escapes me as I can only imagine the scream
of anger and frustration coming from the bathroom when the water changes
temperature so drastically.

	Voices gain volume as I make my way down the stairs to the first
floor, my mother's the most distinct and frequent; the smell of pancakes
and bacon becomes clearer the closer I get to the bottom. My mother is
standing, leaning against the kitchen counter with a spatula in her hand.
A navy blue skirt and blazer hugs her fragile body, brunette curls falling
around her face; a nice variation to her naturally straight hair. Her lips
are disguised by a gentle shade of red, forming a soft smile. She turns
around quickly, using the spatula to flip a pancake before facing the
kitchen table once again where Jonathan is seated across from my
step-father.

	"Shane, your breakfast is in here," I hear my step-father say when
he finally notices I am standing at the bottom of the stairs. He watches me
intently, obviously waiting for a response. His shortly trimmed hair bends
vertical where his forehead meet his hairline, the sides kept shorter than
the top, cropped evenly around the ears and back of the head.  Petite
glasses sit evenly upon his nose, lightly reflecting the sunlight that
shines from behind me. A dark jacket lays over the back of an empty chair,
matching the colour of his dress-pants, a red tie hanging from around his
neck over a sky blue shirt. Glancing over to my mother, I meet her eyes.

	"I'm not hungry this morning," I mutter, searching for my boots to
avoid any further eye contact. I find them almost instantly, sitting next
to the door where I had left them the night before, below my jacket that I
hung on one of the hooks. I quickly pull it on.

	"Well, don't bitch because you're hungry when you're at school," my
mother says coldly. I can still feel her gaze trying to burn through me.
Keeping silent, I pull my boots on while I'm standing, grabbing my backpack
and heading out the front door.

	A cool breeze hits my face, a sigh of relief escaping my lips to
join it. I lean against the door, taking a deep breath before stepping off
the porch. Sunlight has painted nature with colour, completely changing the
soft, dark shades of the night to the bright, vibrant ones of the day. The
colours melt into each other with a perfection only nature could conjure.
A few children walk along the sidewalk past my house to the left towards
the elementary school, indistinctly chattering. Birds chirp from the nearby
trees, undoubtedly getting prepared for their journey south as winter
nears.

	I follow the path down the front yard, eventually reaching the
sidewalk that runs alongside the street. The grass is still damp from the
rain that fell the night before, dark patches of wet cement randomly spread
across the surface of the road slowly drying in the morning light. I turn
to the right, following my path from the previous night towards the woods,
stopping at the ntersection to make sure no drivers were out of control or
overtired. With no cars in sight, I continue across the road to the
entrance of the woods next to the dead end fifty feet down the street. I
had no reason to stop at this intersection the previous night; everyone was
asleep.

	The floor of the woods is still littered with leaves, few enough
for me to follow the path without losing it. Sunlight pours through the
bare trees, shining across the ground giving colour to the dying leaves.
The ground is soft beneath my feet, my boots sinking into the soft dirt
leaving deep footprints. Puddles sit undisturbed throughout the woods, some
next to the path while others in the distance, all waiting to be absorbed
by the thirsty soil housing the roots beneath them. The smell of pine is
sweet and refreshing, memories of Kristina and I walking through the
evergreen forest together flooding my thoughts as each familiar scent
enters my nose. A smile crosses my face, a soft giggle following it.

	I pause, glancing in the direction to the small sanctuary, unable
to see past a wall of evergreens. I wonder if Dana is there... Turning
towards them, I take a step forward, stopping myself before taking
another. Laughing at myself, I turn back to the path and continue along it.

	Lost in my own thoughts, I don't realise I have reached the other
side of the woods until I step onto the hard concrete of a sidewalk.  On
the other side of the road is my new school, standing like a prison in
front of me. A crescent shaped drive separates from the road, passing the
front entrance before intersecting with the road. Students are already
making their way up the stairs of the front entrance and into the building.
Hedges border the crescent drive alongside small sidewalks, breaking only
at the entrance to the building. A large flagpole stands between the
crescent drive and the road, the bright red and white flag proudly flailing
in the wind.

	A couple of cars line up behind each other, parents dropping off
their kids for the first day of school this year. School busses turn into
the parking lot on the far left side of the building, heading towards the
entrance at the rear where they will empty. Faint beige bricks extend
equally in either direction, forming the walls of the school. Trees stand
tall in precise positions around the school, each one standing an equal
distance from the one beside it. In a various places, picnic tables are
placed beneath the trees, a perfect place to eat one's lunch on the right
day.

	Shaking my head, I step onto the road and make my way across it
quickly to avoid being hit by any drivers who may not be paying attention.
Keeping my gaze in front of me, I walk up the stairs, pausing momentarily
to straighten my jacket. Reaching the top of the few stairs, I pull open
one of the double glass doors and enter the lobby of the school, greeted by
a nice warm breeze from a vent in the ceiling. Open the second set of glass
doors, I continue into the main forum, a large, circular room. A dozen
convertable picnic tables lay throughout the room, each one placed next to
the other forming two parallel lines on opposite sides of the forum.

	A staircase follows the circular wall opposite from me, connecting
the first and second floors in a elegant manner. Windows make up the walls
of the second floor, giving room for sight down into the forum when walking
through the halls. Paintings and murals hang from the baby blue walls, the
school mascot, a warrior, the predominant subject. Students are seated at
the tables, some seated alone while others sit in groups of three or
four. One catches my attention, a female with long brown hair that falls
loosely around her delicate face. Her eyes meet mine, the same puzzled look
spread across my face duplicated on hers. She seems very familiar.  After a
few seconds of staring, I shake my head and turn towards the main office
directly to the right upon entering the building.

	"Hello," a soft, female voice says as I let the glass door close
behind me. She is a small woman, short blond curls dancing around her head
with each step or gesture she makes, her bright green eyes fixed on me. A
black dress falls to her feet from her waist, hiding them, the top of the
dress hidden beneath the bottom of her short-sleeved black shirt.  "Can I
help you?"

	The room is rather large for an office, three desks sitting behind
a half-wall that separates the room into two halves. A small section of the
wall is missing for easy access to either side of the room. A bench and a
few chairs sit against the wall next to me for students to sit when in
trouble or while waiting for something. The same baby blue paint from the
forum keeps this room softly coloured and pleasing to the eye.

	"Yes, I'm here to get my schedule," I tell the woman as I approach
the half-wall. My mother made sure we came in two weeks early so we could
enroll and get

	"Your name, please?" she says gently, sitting down at the desk
closest to me.

	"Shane Reeves." She starts typing something into the computer, her
typing skills beyond my own. Within moments, the printer next to the
monitor comes to life, a piece of paper slowly emerging from the top of it
with freshly placed black ink perfectly placed on it to form words. She
pulls the piece of paper out of the printer and hands it to me with a
bright smile, showing beautiful white teeth the seem to shine as brightly
as the halogen lights in the ceiling above me.

	I return the smile, taking the piece of paper in my hands with a
polite, "Thank you." Turning towards the door, I glance down at the paper.
The schedule varies from the one given at my previous school, the day
separated into five periods instead of eight with lunch as period three,
each period twice as long as I'm used to. My first two classes are not
appealing, the first one being grade twelve mathematics and the second
being sociology. Period four and five, however, are the classes I know I
will be looking forward to each day, period four being grade twelve english
and period five being dramatic arts.

	I take note of my locker number written at the bottom of the paper
before folding it and placing it in my pocket. Returning to the forum, I
notice more students seated at the tables than before, the small groups of
three and four have grown into groups of six or seven. I follow the
circular wall to my right, passing the entrance to the cafeteria before
finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and starting my ascent. The
double glass doors at the top open easily with a small turn of their metal
handles.  A hallway stretches before me to the far end of the school in the
direction of the parking lot, lockers lining both sides of it with
classroom doors along the way. Another hallway runs in the opposite
direction behind me.

	Glancing at the first locker in front of me, something tells me
that I'm going in the wrong direction. Turning around, I'm met by the same,
familiar eyes of the girl who watched me enter the building only a few
minutes earlier, still carrying the puzzled look she wore then.

	"Is your name Shane?"