Please Read Post Exegesis - Chapter 1, Part 1 First...
Chapter 1, Part 2
Kyrie’s alarm went off once more in order to warn her that she was running extremely late. She hopped out of bed and instantly collapsed to the ground. Her limbs had turned to jelly and had no function for a split second, not to mention she was extremely klutzy. She yawned and stretched on the ground and reached out to her bed in order to lift her immobile body off the floor. She would have to leave her dream analysis for another time; right now she had to get to school.
Kyrie was not an ugly girl by any means yet she remained modest. She pulled her thick black hair into a sloppy ponytail and pulled on some yoga pants and a deep blue t-shirt that matched the color of her eyes. She was pretty tiny for her age and looked about the size of a twelve year old opposed to the fifteen she actually was. She had inherited her mother’s small frame, but her father’s dashing good looks. Kyrie had been named after a Christian liturgical invocation. Her mother had always said that she was heaven sent and her father always called her his little angel. Kyrie felt nothing like this at all. Right now she was barely struggling to pass geometry.
Despite trying to lay low and out of the spotlight she would forever be known as “that girl.” “That girl” who lost both her parents to a horrific car accident. “That girl” who was orphaned and forced to live with her grandmother. “That girl” who didn’t quite fit in and was just a little bit too weird. Kyrie always hoped that one day she would fit in. But for now she was content with her party of one and her best friend Sal, the cat.
She had gotten Sal a month after the death of her parents, which she referred to as “the incident.” She had found Sal in an empty dumpster in one of the town’s alley ways. He had been abandoned and left for dead. She felt an instant kinship with this fellow orphan. Right then and there she decided that she must save Sal and keep him for ever more. He liked to follow her down to the bus stop and wait with her. He would stay until the doors closed while the bus pulled slowly down the road.
This morning, petting Sal on the way out, she couldn’t help but think about her parents. She had been 12 when the incident occurred. She recalled as much of the events that occurred before she found out the news that she was to be an orphan. Kyrie was driving home on the school bus from a major overnight school event. She was happy and carefree mingling with her friends. They had just arrived at the school and the doors barely opened when the principal and school counselor walked on the bus and started calling her name, “Kyrie, kyrie, we need to talk…” Her heart dropped, something was wrong, she knew it. Why else would they be here at 10:00 pm at night. Principal Roberts pulled her aside and gently placed his hand her back and relayed the terrible news. Kyrie had collapsed and fainted, so they say and was rushed inside.
She couldn’t really remember the details after that. There were a lot of unknown relatives in and out of her house; even social services had showed up at the time to “figure out” what to do with her. She vaguely remembered the funeral and the “I’m sorrys” and “My thoughts are with you’s” that were given to her that day. She hardly recalled the tears that silently rolled down her face as she packed her bags to move across state to live with an estranged grandmother. She ignored the other passengers on the flight and grimaced at the flight attendants. What she did remember were the whispers. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but she knew they were talking about her. Always talking about her. Her life had changed in an instant.
They say that her father had died on impact, but they would never really go into details about her mother. Many whispered that she had lost the baby and that after losing her husband and unborn child that it was too much for her and that she just gave up, forgetting that she still had an eldest child to care for.
So like most people, Kyrie buried her anger deep and tried to rarely think about her family and the fact that they were on their way to pick her up when “the incident” occurred.