Ephemeral

Chapter 17

Life seems so easy sometimes. All you need to do is follow the steps and you win. Go to school, eat good and stay healthy, get good grades, graduate and go to college, get an amazing degree, get a job, start a family, and you win. It all sounds so easy, as though the steps are written on a checklist stuck to your refrigerator.

No one considers the extra steps though. What if you miss step one and two? What if you miss step four and six? What if your life is such a horrible mess that you miss every single step on there and barely make it to the first one? What do I do then? Why did that happen? Who do I blame? Myself? People around me?

I guess if life was so easy and simple, Steve, the drug dealer from down the road wouldn't be 'Steve the drug dealer from down the road'. Everyone and anyone would be rich, successful, and happy.

That's another thing I don't quite understand. Is that so bad? Is it so bad to have everyone be happy? What's wrong with everyone being successful and happy with their lives? Why is it compulsory to have millions of people suffering for no mistake of their own? They're simply born and instantly thrown into a life filled with misery.

It's the one question I know I won't get an answer to. It's the one question no one will ever get the answer to because they're either too happy to care, or too used to the misfortunes thrown their way that they think it's normal.

"Lovely to see you, Avery. How are you?" Chelsea, the schools guidance counsellor, asked as I carelessly sat down in one of the chairs opposite her desk.

"Good." I responded, her smile only widened.

"Right, well I was asked to speak to you about your college choices and whether or not you knew where you were going." She asked as I rolled my eyes, ready to get up and leave. "You got accepted into UCLA, Stanford, Hopkins, and Brown." She listed as I rolled my eyes once again.

"I am aware." I sighed, her smile stayed the same. She didn't seem to be thrown off at all. As though she expected it.

"Your parents must be very proud, these colleges aren't very easy to get in to." She said as I froze and clenched my fists underneath the table.

Even if they knew they wouldn't be proud. They wouldn't care.

"Yes, they are." I said after clearing my throat. "I was planning on going to Stanford." I told her as her eyes widened. 

"That's a while away, do you not want something close to your family?" She frowned as I felt my nails digging into my palms. "Especially considering your mother, I thought maybe you'd like to choose something close so she's not left behind." She said as I counted to twenty in my head.

"Are you advising me to go to a college closer to home simply because I'll be closer to my family? Because thats exactly what it sounds like. It sounds like you don't want me to go to a great school only because my poor mother and father will miss me." I said as her eyes widened in panic.

"No, Avery you've got it wrong. I only assumed that..." she started but I immediately cut her off.

"You assumed wrong." I glared as I got up and stormed out of her office with her yelling my name behind me.

Throwing open the abandoned staircase door, I heard a loud scream come from underneath my staircase. It wasn't till Sebastian popped his head out looking as scared as ever that I calmed myself down. I think he's the only person in the world that I wouldn't punch in the face.

"Avery! You scared me!" He squealed as I ducked my head and sat down a good couple of inches away from him.

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the wall and took in deep breaths. It really does annoy me how typical people can be. My mothers in the hospital for suicide attempts and suddenly I'm the bad guy for wanting to leave this life behind and move on for myself. Either way, who said I wasn't going to take her with me? I didn't miss the judgement in her eyes, the way she accused me of being another selfish teenager. Maybe I'm being a little too harsh, Chelsea is one of the nice teachers this school has, but even the nicest of people are judgemental.