Description:
Robin Sullivan is given a magical book where she can experience a better life in a new world called Tearmann. She can finally escape the terrible reality of life with an abusive, alcoholic father, her
mother's schizophrenia, and her best friend's Leukemia. Robin must choose between deserting her real life or living in a world promising a better one. Events come into play forcing Robin to make a decision.
Will she be able to save those she loves and still save herself?
Excerpt:
“What
gives a mother the right to leave her only daughter with an someone like Roy
and her last words are only, ‘fly away?' I mean what the heck does that mean?
Tell me the answer to that.”
“I don't
have an answer for you, Robin. I'm sorry.”
What a way to spend my eighteenth birthday.
Robin took
a deep breath and looked at the school counselor. The stale office air parched
her throat. She turned to the window. The wind-blown rain trailed its way down
the glass. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to answer you. Find someone
else to shrink.
“Robin,
you know this is part of your probation. You have to meet with me once a week.”
Mr. Collins took off his glasses, placed them down, and rubbed his face with
his hand. “If you talk, the session will go faster.” He brushed away his salt
and pepper hair from his eyes.
Robin
drummed her fingers on the desk in front of her. Her gaze fell to a photo of a
woman and two blond boys. Probably his
wife and kids. Must be nice to live in a perfect family.
“Mr. Collins,
do we have to do this today? It’s my birthday. I mean, I’m sure you can find
someone else to talk to.” Robin slumped black in the plush leather chair and
twiddled her scarf between her fingers.
“I know
you don’t want me to call your probation officer and tell him you refused
counseling today. It won’t go well for you. Aren’t you working on a stayed
commitment, right now?”
“So.”
Robin shrugged and clasped her hands in her lap. She hated to be reminded of
the obvious. A year in the Department of Youth Services hung over her head, a
dreary black cloud of painful memories.
“You may
not care now, but when you’re in that place, you will.” He leaned back in his
chair. “You decide what you want to do. I have all day.”
Ugh! I hate you. Why do you always make me
remember these things when I want to forget them? There should be a law against
this.
“Mr.
Collins, could you please repeat your question? I don’t remember what it was.”
Robin shook her head and rolled her eyes.
He smiled.
“I see you came back to your senses. How are you dealing with the long
separation from your mother?”
“I don’t,
Mr. Collins. It makes me angry. It hurts. I want my mom back.” Robin turned her
attention to the rain outside, hoping to hold back the tears. If I don’t look at him, I’ll be okay. Just
count. One. Two. Three. Four. Crap! I can’t do this. I hate everyone! I hate
you. I just want my life back. This is how I feel. This is what I want to say.
Can’t you just read my mind? Why torture me? Why make me say it? I wish my mom
was here.
Robin
remembered her eighth birthday. Her mother had decorated the house with green
and black balloons and ribbons. The cake in the oven filled the home with the
aroma of vanilla. Just the two of them living their life for the moment. Robin
and her mother glided back and forth on the porch swing, singing. Her mother’s
long blonde hair outlined her pale face and green eyes. Mom always said Roy
used to be a good man, but was ruined by all the secrets and truths life dealt.
“Robin . .
. Robin. Where did you go just now?”
His words
pulled her out of her memory. “Home. I need to go home. Can I?” She
leaned forward and placed her hands under her chin in supplication. “Please.”
“You had a
flashback, didn’t you?” Mr. Collins shook his head and ran his fingers through
his hair.
Robin
shuddered at his action. Just like Roy.
“No, I
didn’t.” She slouched into the chair. “Can’t you just see me tomorrow? I
promise I’ll cooperate.”
“How long
have you been having the flashbacks?”
Give me a break. “I don’t know. Maybe a
month. So, what of it?” She peered up at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed.
“How has
your overall mood been?”
“Really,
you’re asking me that question now? Effed up. How’s that?”
“Are you
taking your medication like you should?” Mr. Collins picked up a pencil and
tapped the eraser to his mouth.
“Yes.
Anything else?”
“What
about hallucinations, delusions, suicidal or homicidal ideations?”
“No. No.
Maybe. And yes.” She pressed her foot against the front of the desk.
“Robin,
how many times do I have to tell you? I have to report this stuff to your P.O.
Why do you persistently cause friction on purpose?”
“Tell Mr.
Hanks. I don’t care. What’s he going to do? I haven’t killed Roy, yet. There’s
nothing he can do about a girl dreaming.”
“No, but
this fixation you have is starting to control you. I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t. No
one else does. I’ll go on, like I always have.” Robin forced a smile. “Can I
ask you a question now?”
“Sure.” He
dropped the pencil on the desk and leaned forward.
“How much
longer do I have left before it happens to me?”
“Robin,
we’ve discussed this on several occasions. Your mother has schizophrenia. That
doesn't mean you'll have it too.”
“You can't
guarantee that. My mother’s crazy. Everyone thinks her daughter is too.”
“No one
thinks that. You had it a little rough and made some poor choices in your
life.”
“Had it a
little rough? Poor choices? Boy, you sure can dish out the lingo.” Robin
laughed. “So what happens to me? I’m eighteen today. Isn’t this when I should
be losing it?”
“Just
because your mother has the disorder, doesn’t mean you will.”
“You can't
guarantee that.”
“No one
can.” He sighed.
“The story
of my life.”
“It could
be worse.”
“I doubt
that.” Robin stood and straightened out her shirt. “See you later.”
“Be
careful tonight.”
“What’s
there to be careful about? I’ve got Johnny Law up my butt when I’m not here,
and you up it when I am.”
“Happy
Birthday.”
“Yeah,
whatever.” Robin snatched the door open and rushed through the secretary’s office
to the hallway of the school. Empty. Seventh
period. I’ll just wait for the bell to ring. I don’t feel like going to class.
She found
the door leading to the student’s parking lot and sat on a canopied bench, out
of the rain. Her eyes scanned the nearby woods. A flicker of movement in the
trees caught her attention. A person. I
wonder if old man Hanson’s horses got loose again. Maybe he needs help. She
grabbed the raincoat out of her book bag and shrugged it on. The soft drizzle
felt cool against her face while she approached the road. After a car passed,
she ran across the street and stood at the edge of the trees. She leaned
against the first trunk and narrowed her eyes. I don’t see anything. I wonder where he went.
Forcing
one foot in front of the other, she crept into the forest, further from the
road. The fresh smell of pine and wet earth filled her nose. Her heart
fluttered in her chest. Maybe it was just
your imagination. Why are you out here in the middle of the woods in the rain?
Alone. Dumb decision. This is how those stupid girls in horror movies get their
heads chopped off. Before she could turn, a large arm wrapped around her
throat and thrust her around. A man in a hooded cloak stared at her with black
eyes.
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