Priyanka+Das

<> Memoir by Priyanka Das Here I was, spending my fall break tearing through a pile of miscellaneous clothing of socks and t-shirts, to magazines and leftover wrappers from junk foods. Why you may ask, was I cleaning my atrocious and filthy room? It’s because I have a hysterical, over exaggerating, and uncontrollable mother who “thinks” my room is beyond the ordinary standards. Here’s where it all went wrong. I was sitting on my comfy bed reading a novel when suddenly, “OH MY goodness! What happened to your room?” Charging into my room was my frenzied and upset mom, who had shock written all over her face. My mom is one of the most organized and orderly person I’ve ever seen. Nothing could go undetected without her noticing it. Even the tiniest speck of dust on our grand piano would be cleaned and scrubbed twice. Sometimes I wonder why she just didn’t give birth to a vacuum cleaner. “Why can’t I see the floor?? It looks as if it was hit by a tsunami of clothes, followed by an earthquake, and then finally hit by a cyclone!” she continued. Thinking back on it I guess I could have tidied up the pieces of crayons strewn across the desk and I could have picked up the half eaten candy bars. What my parents didn’t understand was the valuable and precious memories that were embedded inside the walls of my room. The stains and burns on the carpet symbolized my memorable experiences as a little child. My room was more like a bank that held all the recollections of my childhood in it. I gasped as I ran my hands over a cracked and jade colored spot on my wall. Closing my eyes I allowed myself to be swept back to this remarkable memory. ** __ FREEDOM—WORTH IT? __ **   M ost kids don’t run into any problems when they’re left home alone. Most kids don’t have to deal with two cautious and watchful parents that don’t trust you because they believe that you’ll set the house on fire. But then again, most kids don’t have a certain 5 year old brother who shares the mind of Einstein. The day that my parents actually approved of my staying home alone set my heart racing faster than a hummingbird’s wings. “We’ll be back at sunset!” cried my mother, in which I could clearly detect the obvious doubt beneath her clever coating of sugary sweetness. “Alright,” I responded back with a fake smile plastered onto my face. Having my parents agree to let staying home alone really touched my heart and showed that they finally trusted me. Gaining faith from parents that won’t even let me sit in the front seat or have an email means a lot. I jumped as my dad placed his tough, leather like hand on my back. “We’re counting on you. Don’t let us down,” my dad warned, his voice gentle and tender yet firm. “You know how vexed your mother gets.” I nodded, wondering what I did that made them this cautious and worried. // It’s not like I’ll rob a bank or something. // I thought. “….and remember, DON’T SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE!!!!” my mom reminded me for the hundredth time. Rolling my eyes, I mumbled yes and crossed my fingers, waiting until they left. I patiently waited until I heard the thud of my dad’s silver Honda slam shut and the engine ignite to life. // Yes!! // I thought to myself in pure ecstasy and joy. // Nothing could possibly go wrong now. //   Contemplating on it though, if I had only known what would happen next I would have stopped my parents from ever leaving the house. I would have been able to avoid this one unimaginable event. But being what time is, I didn’t. Unfortunately, my quick two minute joy and pride ceremony ended abruptly as my little (but mischievous and impish) brother strolled past me. My brother was unusually tall for his age, with charcoal black hair, and dimples on the sides of his cheeks. I quickly shot him one of my, // don’t you dare looks // (which only resulted in him sticking his tongue out at me and me kicking him in the shins.) Disaster first struck when I was lying in bed and my brother wobbled over towards me. Immediately, I popped my head up, knowing that something horrible was going to happen. After thoroughly scanning the perimeter for any signs of water balloons, water guns, or paint guns (sadly I was the victim of all these brother designed traps) I declared my room safe. Then I gazed over to my brother. I blinked in confusion. Nothing seemed wrong. In panic I began calculating the worst case scenarios, // what did he do? Did he break any furniture? Did he rob a bank? Did he rob our neighbor’s house? If he did, then what did he steal?! //   As these questions swiveled around my head, my eyes drifted over towards my brother’s hands (which were mysteriously hidden behind his back) Eyes widening, I slowly reached over to pull his hands away from his back so that I could see it. To my astonishment, I found that I couldn’t! I kept tugging, furiously trying to pry his hands apart. Nothing happened. After several futile attempts, realization hit me. His hands were glued. Begging to myself, I hoped that my brother had not done what I had dreaded. “Please don’t tell me that you glued your hands?” I asked, afraid. Grinning, my brother smirked and replied, “Oh, that’s not glue.” I exhaled inaudibly in relief. “Its super glue,” he finished. “What!?” I hollered, almost choking on my own breath of air. // Great! // Only an hour passed and here I was with a kid who glued his hands shut. Frustrated and confused, I groaned and allowed my forehead (which suddenly felt like a ton of heavy bricks) to sink into my pillow. // Why me //? I wondered to myself. This was not what I had anticipated. “Umm… I’m I supposed to just stay here?” my annoying and ungrateful brother questioned me. To tell the truth I was completely speechless and didn’t know how to answer this. How many 5 year old brothers do you know that super glue their hands shut? Let me rephrase this, how many genius brothers do you know that glue their hands? What dazed me the most was how my brother would do something so ridiculous and impractical! This was completely sporadic of his usual behavior. My brother is one of the most gifted and sharp 5 year olds I’ve known. Ask him any question and he’ll be able to fabricate a sophisticated answer for you in minutes. Reading all the books in his school library, at his level, he now reads books that I read when I was a 5th grader! He can list all of the elements of the periodic table in order from its atomic number, and knows everything there is to know about astronomy. So when a tiny Einstein does something like this, I knew that my troubles were far from over. DING! DONG! The door bell suddenly rings. Glancing at the time I think, // is that my parents? But why are they early? Oh no, what are they going to say? Maybe I can still hide.” // But deep inside, I knew I had to surrender myself to at least an hour of interrogation and finally…. the punishment. With every painful step I took towards the door, the more my chances of freedom faded into oblivion. Like the sun setting and rising on the horizon, my hopes of ever staying home alone began to set, disappearing far below the horizon and sailing into despair. By the time I reached the door my hands were quivering, and my legs were as wobbly and unbalanced as jello. Taking a deep breath, I mustered all my strength, and gradually reached out to the golden door handle, pulling the door wide open. To my surprise, instead of my parents, stood my friend Neethu. At this point I was ready to collapse into relief and joy. Now that my friend was here, a new sense of determination and power surged through me, like a six-year old on a sugar rush. “Don’t take this the wrong way but why are you here?” I asked, even though I was secretly thrilled. Popping a stick of mint, green, gum into her mouth she placed her hands on her twig like hips and frowned, “Well if you don’t want me here then I’ll leave.” “N..no!” I implored, grabbing her lanky arm and jerking her inside. With a smug smile on her face she tossed her thick, black, glossy hair and replied, “Your parents sent me. I guess they trust me more than they trust you.” A sharp wave of betrayal and humility smacked me as I angrily thought// ; I knew it was too good to be true. //  //  How could I have ever expected my parents to trust me? // Struggling to fight back my tears from erupting, I simply muttered, “Um….I got to... Could you excuse me?” I couldn’t bear to meet my friend’s icy glare, but when I finally built up the nerve to look up at her, her gaze softened, like melted butter. Placing her arm around my neck she softly whispered, “Hey, I know how you feel. But, you can NOT blame your parents for this. They just want to protect you.” Not wanting to hurt her feelings for unsuccessfully trying to help me, I half smiled and led her up to my room. “Okay, so what’s up? Where’s your brother?” she demanded. After giving her a quick up-to-date summary of what happened, she just stared at me, like I had three heads and sprouted wings. In denial, she blurted, “You actually expect me to believe your brother glued his hands shut?” “We’re talking about the same whiz kid who reads novels right?” she continued on in disbelief. Gesturing towards my brother’s room I replied, “Go see for yourself.” With a strange and doubtful look on her face she marched to my brother’s room. Suddenly a piercing scream rang through the house as I heard Neethu shriek, “AAAH! What in the. …”   The air became silent, and all I could hear was the faint rustling from my brother’s room. The next thing I know my friend is crawling through my door, gasping for air as tears cascaded down her red face. “What..?” I started. Interrupting me she gasped, “Your brother’s room…. Bugs…. Ghosts...” With that she collapsed to the ground leaving me in puzzlement and bewilderment. Grabbing her skinny wrist I dragged her over to my brother’s room to get to the bottom of all this. // This was ridiculous; I’m the one who’s in charge, not him. How could he ruin my first (and after what my parents see, probably last) day of freedom? //    That was my first mistake. If I had only listened to my friend’s desperate moans and shrieks as a warning, I would have been in a better position, with one less painful memory to remember. “What in the world is going on…?” Suddenly the whole room blacked out. All I could hear was the loud thumping of my heart as it raced up and down. Straining my ears for even the slightest sound, I heard a faint thud, as something landed right next to me. “Neethu?” I whispered, alarmed to hear only my voice echoing throughout the dark blackened room. No one answered. // Enough is enough. I’ve got to get out of here. Only thing is where is the door? And what’s crawling up my legs!?Oh my gosh! HELP! Neethu SAVE ME!!! //Unable to speak, I just whimpered and lay on the ground. Never again was I going to stay home alone. By now my eyes were adjusting to the dark, and to my horror I saw a black shadowy figure creeping towards me. I felt my heart thud to a halt for a second. With all my might I let out a scream so loud that the people down in Florida would have been able to hear it. A hand clamped over my mouth as I heard someone whisper, “It’s all right. Just calm down and take a deep breath. I think I know where the door is.” It was Neethu. Relief and anger rushed through me as I irritably whispered, “What do you mean calm down?! My parents aren’t home and I’ve lost my hand-glued brother somewhere in this house. On top of that we’re stuck in here with absolutely no way to get out! I don’t even know where here IS!” I paused to catch my breath and then started again. “Oh by the way, nice job abandoning me superwoman.” “If you would just listen to me, we’d get out of here faster,” she growled. “Fine,” I snapped, as I tried to stand up. About two minutes later a flash of bright light came pouring in, lighting up my brother’s room. At the first chance I got, I dashed down the hall and dove into my bedroom. “I’m safe. I’m finally safe,” I sighed, collapsing onto my bed. “Hey look what I found,” Neethu cried as she bounced onto my bed. “You know that crawly feeling on your legs, that was just plastic butterflies strung on a string.” “WHAT?” I growled, wanting to rip something. Smiling, Neethu shot a sly look, “You know what this means….” “War,” I finished, nodding my head in agreement. It was funny how we didn’t really see eye to eye on many things yet there were those rare moments where we’d understand each other without actually saying anything. Raising one finger she replied, “Only one problem. We don’t have any idea on where he is.” Groaning I just plopped down on my chair, while my friend thought of a fool proof plan. Unfortunately, we weren’t quick enough because the next thing I know, my brother comes sprinting in with a paintball gun in his hands. “AAAHHH!” he giggled as he began blasting blobs of purple at my head. My eyes widening, I ducked underneath my bed. Without having to say any words, a sense of understanding passed through Neethu and I. So we did what any 10 year old would do, fight back with all we had. I don’t remember how we had done it but after 10 minutes-which seemed like several hours of non-stopping, adrenaline pumping action and slashing,-Neethu and I successfully tied up my brother. Gasping for air, I wearily rubbed my eyes with my green, blue, and orange hand. I froze as I inspected my room. My once bland and plain room looked as if it had been painted by the great Picasso. At every corner of the wall, there was a rainbow of splattered color. // Well at least I don’t have to worry about my room being boring. //I thought. Spinning around, my eyes narrowed until it was locked onto my brother. “You! You evil, annoying, little, pain in the neck. Do you know how much trouble you caused? Do you have any idea how…. never mind, what’s the use? Tell me one thing though, why did you lie about the glue and how did you pull it off anyways?” “Oh it was simple, I just used regular glue. You know the washable one. You should have been able to pull it apart but judging on the amount of force you exerted on my hands, you either didn’t have a good breakfast or you’re just plain weak. ”  //  What did I tell you, a geek. //  “It was definitely the food,” I grumbled, wanting to confirm that he knew I wasn’t a wimp. I felt the anger rising in me again, but before I could speak my brother added, “But, I still love you anyways.” “Aw. That’s so sweet,” Neethu chirped, as she crumpled onto the pink and green stained carpet. A mixture of emotions surged through me at that time, but I finally went over to my brother and gave him a hug. I felt that was the proper thing to do, and looking back on it, I’m glad I did. At that point, life being as unfair as it sometimes is, my parents walked in. The rest, as you know, was history. My parents ended up making all three of us scrub the carpets, paint the walls, and polish the furniture (except for one spot which we purposely left). Obviously, I was never trusted to stay home alone again, but to tell the truth I didn’t care. Looking back on it, I’m glad this occurred because not many people get to experience what I have, staying alone for the first time. ** __A MIRACLE__  ** “Okay,” I told myself. “I’ve done this about a million times, right?” So then why did I feel like someone yanked the floor beneath me, leaving me there to fall and collapse through an endless chasm of darkness? With a blank, vacant stare in my eyes, I gazed at the black and red lane lines as they bobbed gently across the unusually tranquil pool water. Streaks of bright, sunbeams seemed to spill across the crystal, sapphire water as the dazzling sun rays illuminated the pool. As a result the pool seemed more majestic as it sparkled and glittered like a thousand stars twinkling upon the dark and mysterious night sky. Like I was in a trance, I absentmindedly dipped my toe in the lifeless pool, interrupting the once motionless water. Just the one touch of my toe sent a reaction of tiny ripples throughout the pool. When my skin touched the cool, chilly, water a tingling feel of electricity slivered down my back as I involuntarily shivered. Leaning closer towards the swimming pool, I peered inside the glassy water, half expecting to find answers. But all I saw was my reflection staring back at me. I thought back to what my coach had told me a while ago, “Your reflection should show who you are inside.” Drawing in a deep breath, almost tasting the bitter, chlorine water on my tongue, I wondered // when my reflection would show who I really was inside. //   BEEP! I jumped as my mind was jerked back into reality. I sprinted back to my group and lined up with them. Swim meets were always nerve wracking and annoying. // Nothing new  //, I thought to myself grumpily. // Swim meets were supposed to be “fun” but all swimmers knew that it was just another way for coaches to test your abilities and your best strokes. Meets were all about times. Sometimes, if you were lucky you’d beat the all- state record and move up to the national’s team. The bad part about times are every time you get close to breaking the record, someone else already does, which means that you would have to try to beat the new time given. Nationals were every swimmer’s dream, yet only the above and beyond were eligible to join. You were lucky enough to even score a gold or silver time. But not even having a bronze time and a swimmer would be scorned for life. (Until they quit or won a medal)  // // Having a bronze time is okay (for mediocre) but none of the coaches really pay attention to you. They give preference to the gold/silver swimmers. If a swimmer really desired to get somewhere, they’d have to be trained by the best of the best, which is nearly impossible for the bronze swimmers. Just once I wanted to get a silver time. Just once I wanted to be an above average swimmer. //  “Priyanka! Priyanka,” I heard my name echoing throughout my head until I realized someone was calling my name. Awakening from my deep thoughts I glanced up at a shadowy figure. It took a couple seconds to realize that it was my friend, Grace. Grace was unusually tall for a twelve year old. Even though she was skinny, she had thick muscles wrapped around her thighs and had a 4 pack that was made of steel like muscles. Of course all swimmers had to have muscles. It symbolized hard work, patience, and the result of your effort. “Uh, hello anybody home?” Grace questioned giving me strange look. I squinted as the streaks of sunlight highlighted the few glints of blonde in her coffee colored hair, which went really well with her pale skin. Arms crossed and eyebrows raised she added, “Warm ups are about to begin.” Warm-ups are vital for swimmers “What?” I demanded as she continued to stare at my face. “You haven’t even gotten your swim suit on. Are you coming?” she asked, ready to rip my arms out of my sockets in case I said no. Groaning, I reluctantly picked up my pink swim bag and headed towards the girls locker room. “Do I have a choice?” I called out. Laughing she smirked, “No, now come on. You don’t want to be late for warm ups do you?” Rolling my eyes I scoffed, “And get a lecture from Coach Andrea? I wouldn’t do that for even a million dollars.” “Well said,” a voice behind me chuckled. Turning around I saw Hannah and a group of other girls on my team arrive. “I see that we’re all late for the meet. I wonder what Coach Andrea is going to do now? She’ll probably feed us to the pigeons,” Hannah smirked, as she tied her auburn hair up in a bun. These were some of the advantages of having Hannah as your friend. No matter how bad the situations were, she always had to input her ideas which were quite entertaining. Even after that funny comment, the locker room was strangely hushed. All that could be heard was the clumping of swim bags dropping on the floor and the continuous slamming of the locker doors. All the silence was uncovering all the tension and nervousness that filled the air. Finally, unable to stand the silence, I turned to ask Marissa a question, “Do you know who we’re up against?” Running her fingers through her gold, honey brown hair, she sighed, “Westfield Dolphins.” At that point all the confidence, stability, and hope I had in myself was sucked out of me like a vacuum drinking up dirt. For some reason my mouth felt dry and my voice faded away. I glanced around real quickly, only to see the same expression of fear printed all over our team’s faces. My gaze drifted towards Grace, who was already extremely pale, looked paler as if someone had drained all the blood from her face and all that was left was a pile of skin. Shaking my head I slumped down onto the red and black bleachers. The Westfield Dolphins, all time state winners. How our team despises that name. Whenever we heard that name, it sent a tingling feel of fear followed by anger down our spines. The swimmers were proud, tall, and strong clones of their haughty and conceited coach. It’s all due to their wins that our coach increases practice from three days a week to six days. The once one hour classes elongated into more strenuous and tiring practices, shadowed by limited breaks and limited time with family and friends. Instead of sleeping in late on Sundays, our team had to wake up at 6:30 in the morning, and start swimming full out sprints in the chilly and uncomfortable pool. Our coach had this strange desire to beat their team and gradually, we began to want to beat them. We began to develop this peculiar determination, some sort of anger, towards them and till the day one of our swimmers beat them we would not rest. Now was our chance. Rising up I stood in front of my team and coughed to get their attention. Everyone looked up, and Grace began to stand. “We’ve been training for this for a while now. Are we just going to stand there, looking like pathetic wimps, or are we actually going to blow them away with our effort and will power?” Silence. // This was not going the way I had planned in my head. // I thought feeling a little lost and useless. At the corner of my eyes though I saw Hannah, Marissa, Grace, and slowly all the other girls stand up. To my amazement, I saw their fear contort into fury and determination. Suddenly the wall of tension broke as all the nervousness and panic melted into willpower. Even the younger kids were screaming and yelling. Soon all the screams and shouts blended into a single cheer. “MEY!!” our team chanted as our two coaches joined us. “MEY ROCKS!!” “Let’s show those Dolphins who’s in charge!” Grace yelled, her hazel brown eyes blazing with fiery enthusiasm. “Okay girls, listen up,” Coach Andrea’s voice bellowed, “I want you to all try your best. Remember quick flip turns, strong streamline, and fast underwater kicks. We’ve been training for this for weeks. I expect to see some improvement on your timings. Priyanka! You’re up first for 50 fly.” Clapping her strong hands she goaded, “Come on, come on, and line up in your positions. Priyanka, why are you just standing there? Get on the diving board this instance!!” A couple of my swim teammates patted my back and the others just said good luck. They all promised to cheer for me. But I just stood there, not wanting to move, just wanting to dissolve into the earth right there. The fire and motivation somehow abandoned me, leaving me with just uneasiness. With every step I took towards the diving block, my legs lost feeling and felt wobbly. I felt a sudden weight of restlessness on my chest. I waited for what seemed hours until the official pressed the button and stated, “Event 1- 50 fly. Swimmers take your mark.” Immediately I climbed onto the steep diving board and crouched down, ready to push off into a dive. Silence. Time somehow seemed to slow down. Tick- tock. All eyes were on me and my competitor. In my mind I kept on replaying how I would dive, how I would swim, and how I’d finish. All I could hear was the steady breathing of both mine and my opponents, and my heart beating wildly, ready to swim. I closed my eyes and waited for the sound I’ve been training for. BEEP! Whoosh! I pushed myself off the diving board and into the cold, chlorine, water. The race had begun. As soon as I surfaced, I swung my arms in action. In only a couple seconds I reached the end of the pool and did an agile flip turn. On the way back I noticed my opponent racing in front of me. // No //, I thought. // I was not going to lose this time //. Wanting to make my coach, family, and team proud, I decided to take a risk. I was going to finish my race without breathing in my butterfly. I was only inches away from success and pride when a sharp aching pain seared through my thighs and legs. My lungs were bursting for air, but I fought it down until finally, I WON! Cheers and laughter erupted from the audience as my team ran over to congratulate me. I had gotten a silver time! I glanced over towards my coach and my dad who were both beaming at me. Life can throw unexpected surprises, but this was a surprise I knew I had won by myself using both stamina and determination. At the end of the day I was able to proudly hold my trophy.