responsibility for your assignments.”
He spoke in a slow, condescending tone. “Your computer malfunction
is irrelevant. I have no choice but to give you a zero.”
Zero. The one word she had always
dreaded. It shot a sharp sting of chills up her spine.
“Now is that really fair, Mr.
Hoffman?” Danny tried to negotiate. “I mean, it wasn’t really her
fault. In fact, you can probably blame my Dad.” Malia looked at Mr.
Hoffman. His lips were pursed, his eyebrows raised. “He was the one
using it when it....”
“That’s enough, Mr. Sanders,” Mr.
Hoffman scolded, his cheeks red with fury. “My mocha cappuccino to
settle his nerves.
“Thanks for trying, Sam. That’s
what counts,” she smiled.
Sam looked disappointed.
He was always trying to save her.
How was she supposed to save him if she was thousands of miles
away?
Ever since Safiah returned Sam’s
letter, Malia had kept it strapped tightly in her pocket. Every now
and then, she would check to ensure it was still there. She
depended on it desperately. That one slip of paper convinced her
that everything would be alright.
Sitting meekly on the wooden park
bench, as the sunlight nearly turned to dust, she slowly unfolded
the letter. Her fingers quivered as she squinted to read the curly
handwriting. Her fingers, wet with her tears, painted small water
spots on the thin sheet. She swiftly dried the smudges with the
edge of her sleeve and searched for some hint, some clue to her
brother’s whereabouts.
She found none.
“I was born to do this,” she
whispered, slowly enunciating each syllable with skepticism.
“Couldn’t he find something else to do with his life?” she shouted
to no one. “He loved basketball. Why couldn’t he pursue
basketball?”
The air replied with a frosty
whirl of wind that flew the letter from her grasp. It lay flimsily
by a monstrous tree. Rain droplets fluttered from its branches and
prickled her arms as she stooped to retrieve it. Her hand brushed
lightly against its trunk, causing tiny wood pieces to splinter her
palm.
“I’m doing this for me,” she
continued to read. “Well what about us, Sam? What about your
friends and family?” she once again questioned to no one in the
vacant campus garden. “Did you even think about us?” She sunk her
body to the ground, leaning heavily against the tree. Grass stains
intermingled with blotches of mud dirtied her pants and the trim of
her blouse, but she didn’t mind. Her mind was too obsessed with
anger. Her raging fury with her brother. Selfish. Irresponsible.
Naive.
Brave. Determined. A fighter.
The anger passed, and the sun rose
once again. Despite the deaths of soldiers and the tears of widowed
wives, the sun would always rise. And life would continue. A life,
and the lives of so many, that Sam was trying to protect.
She heard voices, laughter. Crowds
of people were scurrying to their classes, bags strapped to their
backs and piles of weighty books tucked under their arms.
“Malia?” A hand was extended
towards her.
– Chapter 6
–
“Safiah? What are you doing here?”
she questioned. Suddenly, Malia realized she wasn’t lying on her
springy mattress. Kate Lockman, her roommate, wasn’t tugging on her
covers gently, reminding her that classes began in twenty minutes.
And the shouts of fellow freshmen in the halls weren’t echoing
through the thin, brittle walls of her dorm room.
“ Why are you sitting beneath
a tree, Malia?” Safiah looked worried. A shadow crossed her face.
“You weren’t sitting here all night, were you?” She sounded
skeptical. Why is she so
worried? Malia thought.
And then she remembered.
She couldn’t tell her. She
wouldn’t.
She couldn’t cry in front of
Safiah. Safiah had already endured so much. Her anxieties would
seem trivial.
“I like nature. Especially trees,”
Malia asserted. “In fact, for one of my classes, I’m doing a report
on trees... uh... maple trees, specifically.” She hoped
He spoke in a slow, condescending tone. “Your computer malfunction
is irrelevant. I have no choice but to give you a zero.”
Zero. The one word she had always
dreaded. It shot a sharp sting of chills up her spine.
“Now is that really fair, Mr.
Hoffman?” Danny tried to negotiate. “I mean, it wasn’t really her
fault. In fact, you can probably blame my Dad.” Malia looked at Mr.
Hoffman. His lips were pursed, his eyebrows raised. “He was the one
using it when it....”
“That’s enough, Mr. Sanders,” Mr.
Hoffman scolded, his cheeks red with fury. “My mocha cappuccino to
settle his nerves.
“Thanks for trying, Sam. That’s
what counts,” she smiled.
Sam looked disappointed.
He was always trying to save her.
How was she supposed to save him if she was thousands of miles
away?
Ever since Safiah returned Sam’s
letter, Malia had kept it strapped tightly in her pocket. Every now
and then, she would check to ensure it was still there. She
depended on it desperately. That one slip of paper convinced her
that everything would be alright.
Sitting meekly on the wooden park
bench, as the sunlight nearly turned to dust, she slowly unfolded
the letter. Her fingers quivered as she squinted to read the curly
handwriting. Her fingers, wet with her tears, painted small water
spots on the thin sheet. She swiftly dried the smudges with the
edge of her sleeve and searched for some hint, some clue to her
brother’s whereabouts.
She found none.
“I was born to do this,” she
whispered, slowly enunciating each syllable with skepticism.
“Couldn’t he find something else to do with his life?” she shouted
to no one. “He loved basketball. Why couldn’t he pursue
basketball?”
The air replied with a frosty
whirl of wind that flew the letter from her grasp. It lay flimsily
by a monstrous tree. Rain droplets fluttered from its branches and
prickled her arms as she stooped to retrieve it. Her hand brushed
lightly against its trunk, causing tiny wood pieces to splinter her
palm.
“I’m doing this for me,” she
continued to read. “Well what about us, Sam? What about your
friends and family?” she once again questioned to no one in the
vacant campus garden. “Did you even think about us?” She sunk her
body to the ground, leaning heavily against the tree. Grass stains
intermingled with blotches of mud dirtied her pants and the trim of
her blouse, but she didn’t mind. Her mind was too obsessed with
anger. Her raging fury with her brother. Selfish. Irresponsible.
Naive.
Brave. Determined. A fighter.
The anger passed, and the sun rose
once again. Despite the deaths of soldiers and the tears of widowed
wives, the sun would always rise. And life would continue. A life,
and the lives of so many, that Sam was trying to protect.
She heard voices, laughter. Crowds
of people were scurrying to their classes, bags strapped to their
backs and piles of weighty books tucked under their arms.
“Malia?” A hand was extended
towards her.
– Chapter 6
–
“Safiah? What are you doing here?”
she questioned. Suddenly, Malia realized she wasn’t lying on her
springy mattress. Kate Lockman, her roommate, wasn’t tugging on her
covers gently, reminding her that classes began in twenty minutes.
And the shouts of fellow freshmen in the halls weren’t echoing
through the thin, brittle walls of her dorm room.
“ Why are you sitting beneath
a tree, Malia?” Safiah looked worried. A shadow crossed her face.
“You weren’t sitting here all night, were you?” She sounded
skeptical. Why is she so
worried? Malia thought.
And then she remembered.
She couldn’t tell her. She
wouldn’t.
She couldn’t cry in front of
Safiah. Safiah had already endured so much. Her anxieties would
seem trivial.
“I like nature. Especially trees,”
Malia asserted. “In fact, for one of my classes, I’m doing a report
on trees... uh... maple trees, specifically.” She hoped
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