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Emma Goedde
Buckeye Creativity Award
The White Oblivion
I was having that dream again. That dream where I’m in a place where it’s all white
and I can’t see anything. My chest was heaving and I was trying to find a way out of this
white oblivion that I had been visiting since that tragic day. But this dream was different
from the rest. I started to see a red pool around me and the pool kept getting bigger and
bigger. I looked down and then I saw it. The thick, bright red blood spewing from my wrist
and down my arms, ruining the perfected whiteness of it all. I couldn’t take it anymore. I
started screaming louder and louder until I felt as if I was nothing.
***
I shot out of bed when the dream ended. I was dripping with sweat, my heart was
racing, and my ears were ringing. I switched on the light by my bed and frantically looked
at my wrists to make sure that every inch was just like it was before I had fallen asleep.
Then I remembered, it was my sister who had scarred her own wrists and taken her own
life. It was Jacqueline who ruined the perfect white. With legs that felt like Jell-o, I walked
over to her bedroom window and climbed out onto the roof.
I liked how the night breeze cooled my hot skin and I felt my heart go back to
normal. But then the awful feeling of hurt and loneliness took over, and I felt a hot tear fall
down my cheek. I couldn’t help the tears that fell or the silent cry that took over my body.
I remember how my best friend, my twin sister, had left me alone. I couldn’t tell my
parents because Mom would send me away like she did to Jacqueline. And I don’t want to
be like Jacqueline.
***
I put on an act every single day for my parents, my friends, and my teachers. I never
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dressed down in clothes of mourning, or acted sad. I just acted like my normal self. I
perfected my blonde curls and put on makeup with a steady hand. I looked in the mirror
and all I wanted to do was shatter the illusion. But I just grabbed my stuff and headed to
school, trying to forget about my nightmare.
At school, I met up with my three best friends -- Heather, Bridget, and Sofia -- and
we headed to first period.
“I can’t believe the world is going to end! I haven’t even done everything I wanted to do! I
haven’t even met my Prince Charming!” Heather said in her usual, high-pitched voice that
drove me crazy.
“Heather, we all know that you have done all that you could have without your
Prince Charming,” Bridget said.
I was only tuning into their conversation and laughed at the appropriate time. But our
laughing only caused Heather to gasp in shock and huff off to the classroom ahead of us.
Heather and Bridget’s relationship hasn’t been the same since Heather sneaked around
Bridget’s back with Bridget’s now ex-boyfriend. Sofia seems to be the only sane one to me.
She also seems to see right through my guise of normality, to my look of anger and hurt.
When we got into the classroom, Heather had taken my seat by the window, which
forced me to sit between her and Bridget. Our English teacher, Mr. Franklin, walked into
the room and started to pass out books to the class, whistling his normal tune. He stopped
in front of me and handed me my book.
“How you doing Charlie?” I love how he is such a stickler about proper English but
talked to his students like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I’m doing fine, Mr. Franklin.” He gave me a look but continued passing out the
books. I looked out the window and didn’t even hear the joke somebody said but laughed
anyway and blocked everything out. From the light that was streaming through the
window, I could see the dust motes floating through the air. Jacqueline was always
fascinated by them.
She used to collect them in jars because our Dad told her that they were magic. I
could remember that day when I found Jacqueline trying to collect them when we were
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four. She told me that the dust motes were fairies and they disappeared when they were
caught. I remember whispering, ‘“Wow, a jar of magic.”’
“Charlie, what did you say?” Mr. Franklin asked me. I was brought back to reality,
and everyone was staring at me. I looked at my outstretched hand that was trying to touch
the fairies.
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” I pulled my hand back and clutched it to my chest.
“Sorry I interrupted class.” He gave me one last look before turning his attention back to
class. And I had to try, try with all my being, to not cry.
***
I struggled through the rest of the day with a grey fog clouding my thoughts. I
dumped my stuff on the stairs at home and walked into the kitchen, where I smelled
cookies. Matty, my little brother, was sitting at the breakfast bar with a plate of Estelle’s
famous, white-chocolate, macadamia nut cookies and a glass of milk.
“Hey Matty,” I said and ruffled his hair. “How was school?”
“It was okay. Nothing special, except all the teachers keep giving me that look of
sadness. I hate that look.”
I hate that look too.
“Do you have any homework?” With a mouthful of cookie, he shook his head no.
“Want some ice cream?” He shook his head yes with enthusiasm and we put his dishes in
the sink. He gives me hope through this whole ordeal. Even though he is twelve years
younger than my eighteen, he acts so much older.
***
I sat on my bed that night, pouring over my calculus book with Pickles, our
chocolate lab, next to me. I was humming to myself when Pickles’ tail knocked off my
calculator. When I went to pick it up, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
Gasping, I dropped my calculator again when I thought I saw my sister’s face in the
window. I wiped my eyes and looked back, but her tear stained, sheet white face was gone.
“This is so weird Pickles. What’s the matter with me?” I didn’t know how long I
stayed awake, but it was almost three o’clock in the morning before I closed my aching
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eyes and drifted off.
***
I was back in that white oblivion, but I wasn’t alone this time. Jac stood in front of
me looking like she did outside my window that night. She looked as if she had been
walking in the rain because her hair was dripping wet, her mascara was running down her
cheeks, and it looked as though she had been crying. She lifted her hand and reached out
to touch me. I looked at her wrist but didn’t see any scars or any blood. I reached out to
touch her and just touched her finger tips when I sucked in a breath and saw thousands of
blurred images run past me.
We ended up standing in the middle of a crowded party at Heather’s step-dad’s lake
house. Everyone was drunk off their asses, and it showed through their sloppy dancing. I
looked around for somebody that I knew, and my eyes zeroed in on Jac, who was standing
next to some guy that I did not know, smiling and occasionally sipping her beer. He leaned
down and whispered in her ear and Jac nodded when he looked back at her.
The guy took her hand and led her up the stairs. I instantly followed them and knew
that nobody would stop me because they couldn’t see me. When I found them, they were
making out in a bedroom and things escalated quickly. He wanted more, but I saw that Jac
said no. But he was persistent. Jac was struggling with him now, and I wanted to run over
there and pull him off her, but the Jac standing next to me stopped me.
I couldn’t hear any words or screams come out of Jac’s mouth, but I saw her
struggle. I heard only the sound of muffled music from downstairs as I watched Jac being
raped by some stranger. After he was done with her, he got up, zipped his pants, and
walked out of the room. Jac curled into a ball and sobbed. My own sobs racked my body as
I stood helpless.
I felt Jac touch my shoulder and only sobbed as we were brought back to The White
Oblivion. I turned around and looked at Jac. Tears were running down her face as well, but
she said nothing. Then Jac started to fade, and I didn’t want her to. The last thing I saw
before I woke up was a thin, red line on Jac’s wrist. I watched the red run down her hand
and drip from her finger tips, onto the white.
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***
I woke up in my room, with tears running down my cheeks. Sitting up, I looked at
the clock and saw that it was eleven o’clock. I had overslept and was very late for school.
Running into the bathroom, I saw the post-it on my mirror.
“Charlie, you looked like you needed
a break. So get some rest. –Dad”
I smiled and crawled back into bed. Pickles walked into her room and laid next to
me.
“So Pickles, want to see Jac’s room?” Pickles gave a sad whine but followed me from the
room and down the hall to Jac’s room. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and
flipped on the lights. The room looked as if it had not been touched at all.
I walked over to Jac’s desk and ran my finger along the edge. Dust had gathered on
the desk since her death two months earlier. I looked at all of her pictures and saw many
of Jac and I, Jac and Matty, and all three of us. Then I saw it sitting on the shelf. On the
shelf was the jar. The jar full of magic from the little fairies that we had captured long, long
ago. Jac had given up and stopped believing in magic. Even though I was alone, I looked
around before taking the jar off the shelf.
I returned to my room and looked at the jar one last time before putting the jar in
my closet. I walked to my window, and out I went to sit on the roof. Even though it was a
beautiful day, it didn’t help my mood and I just let the tears fall.
***
Throughout the week, I visited the White Oblivion every night in my dreams, and
every night I visited another memory of Jac’s. Each one of her memories was horrible, and
at the end of every flash back, another cut appeared on her wrist, and the blood ran
thicker. But this last one was the worst. Together Jac and I were standing in Jac’s bathroom
with Jac sitting on the toilet. I gasped when I saw the little stick in Jac’s hand and then
realized that Jac was wearing the very same thing she was wearing the day she was found.
The tears came when I saw Jac drop the pregnancy test and burst into tears.
Jac reached behind the toilet and pulled out a razor blade. She brought it to her wrist
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and closed her eyes. I watched my sister cut deep. Even with the blood running down her
hand, she cut her other wrist and dropped the blade. Jac climbed into the bathtub and
slowly drifted away. I was brought back into the White Oblivion, and Jac was even worse
than she had ever been in one of my dreams. The blood was not just thick; it was gushing
from her wrist. I started to walk toward her, but she stepped away and spoke for the first
time.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” With one more heartbreaking sob, Jac faded away and left
me there, kneeling in a puddle of blood, begging for Jac to come back.
***
I woke up to the sound of duct tape being ripped off the roll and the sound of
cardboard boxes being stacked. I got up, followed the noise, and saw my mother in Jac's
room with boxes holding Jac's things. I just snapped.
"What are you doing?!" I said yelling at my mother. Tiffany looked up and wiped her
hands on her thighs.
"I'm packing up some of Jac's things and putting them in the attic."
"Why?! This is her room, her things! You can't just pack them up! You're throwing
her away like a piece of lint on your sweater! You're just forgetting her altogether.
"Charlotte, where is this coming from, this isn't you at all."
"No, Mom. This is me. I don't show the real me because I'm afraid that what I'll say
will hurt you. You wanted all of us to forget her like she was a speed bump in our lives.
But she wasn't!
"She was an amazing person. Did you know she was pregnant but she wasn't
sleeping around like you're thinking. She was raped at a party and I did nothing to stop it!"
I just fell to the floor and sobbed but then I felt my mother wrap her arms around
me.
"It isn't your fault Charlie. You probably couldn't have stopped it. I'm just grieving,
like you."
"I'm tired, Mom. I'm tired of crying all the time and being sad. I'm scared that I'll do
what Jac did. But I could never do that to you, Dad, and Matty."
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"You're right Charlie; I shouldn't box her things up." I just got up and walked out of
her room. Then I saw my father sitting on the ground, crying silent tears.
"I'm sorry I said those things but I couldn't hold it in any longer."
"I'm glad you did. I'm glad that you're the one who finally stepped up and spoke the
truth." He got up and kissed my cheek. "Don't stop believing in the magic Charlie."
***
I slowly got better over the next couple of weeks. I finished my book for English
and surprisingly, I liked it. Heather was sent away to live with her grandmother, since her
parents found her sleeping around with Bridget's boyfriend. I began to open up more and
started to hang out with other people besides my friends. My Mom started to show her
emotions and everyone was finally starting to be happy. We were finally starting to move
on with our lives.
***
I was back in the White Oblivion, and Jac was standing in front of me. She looked
the same as she did in my last dream and I wanted to just gather her in my arms. But then
Jac smiled, and I saw the blood running back up her arms, and she started to look normal.
Her mascara wasn't running down her face and then it was like I was looking in a mirror.
I knew we were moving from the White Oblivion, but all I did was look at Jac.
Then it stopped, and we were sitting on the steps in our house. Light was shining through
the window and Jac reached out to disturb the dust mote's steady rhythm.
"I've always liked this spot."
"Why did you do it, Jac?" Jac gave me a sad smile and told me everything. She was
like me in a way and didn't want to burden people with her problems. Then she said
something that brought tears to my eyes.
"I saw what I was doing to you and I had to come back before you did what I did.
And I needed to say goodbye.
"I was kind of mad about that the most. My best friend left without saying
goodbye."
"I know and I'm sorry. I'm just glad that my plan worked out. And now I can go on
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because I know you're going to be okay. I have to go now, Charlie. Just know that I'll
always be around." Jac gave me one last hug before fading away into the sunlight.
So when I woke up from my dream, I got up from my bed and walked into Matty's
room and lay down next to him. I grabbed his hand and held it throughout the night just
so we both could hold onto Jac one last time.
***
The next morning, I stood in front of Jac's grave holding the jar I got from my
closet. I knelt down and set the jar in the stone and traced the letters of our last name. I
kissed my fingers and touched them to the stone and stood up.
Sun rays broke through the clouds, and everything was illuminated. I looked up and
waved because I knew Jac was there watching. When I got home, I got a jar, climbed the
steps, stopped in front of the window, and held the jar high. I caught the dust motes and
screwed the lid tightly. Then I looked at the jar and did something I hadn't done in a long,
long time. I smiled.