Life in Columbine went on. My parents took me out of the high school, saying it was too dangerous. They home schooled me and helped some of the other parents home school their own kids. I started regularly visiting the cemetery. Thirteen died in all. Out of those thirteen, two were close to me. Kyle and his little brother were both gone. His brother was only 14- a freshman, like me. Among the others was Rachel Scott, whom I knew by name and face but not personally. She was always really nice whenever she saw me, or anybody for that matter. I recognized a couple of the names as belonging to cheerleaders or Student Council members, and one of them was a debater. These were people with hopes and dreams, with aspirations, who could have done great things. I sat in the cemetery day after day, inconsolable. It seemed like many other people came, but none stayed the way I did. On the news there was constant talk of how the town had come together in this time of need. So why did I feel more alone than I ever had before?

When the initial pain passed, close to eight months afterwards, I started to notice the tombstones. They had the day they were born, a dash, and the day they died. None of the tombstones said anything more. That tiny dash was meant to represent their whole life.

As I walked home one day, I saw a couple walking along the street, their eyes bloodshot and puffy. I recognized the woman- she was the one who had asked me about her daughter. When our eyes met, she started sobbing. I thought of the names on the tombstones, and finally matched her- she was Rachel Scott’s mom. I dropped my eyes to the ground, not wanting to see her. She was probably thinking how she wishes it was me who was dead, not Rachel, and that she still had her baby girl. And if you want my honest opinion, I didn’t blame her. The people I loved more than life, my boyfriend and his quirky, sweet little brother, were both gone. To tell the truth, I wanted to be dead, too.
***

When I went home that night, I could tell something was off. Usually my mom would wait for me in the hallway, constantly paranoid that I wouldn’t come home. But today, she wasn’t there.
“Mom?” I looked into the kitchen. Nobody. “Dad?”
I went all around the first floor, looking in every room. They were nowhere to be found. As I headed upstairs, I heard voices coming out of the bathroom. I walked over quietly, trying to hear what they were saying.
“Should we tell her?” my mom was whispering anxiously, tears evident in her voice.
“Baby, I don’t know if we should. She still hasn’t gotten over Kyle’s death. Maybe we should wait.” My dad sounded equally worried. I began to get nervous. What was going on that was such a big secret?
“Honey, we can’t raise a baby in this town, not with what happened. It’s already scarred our family enough. But we can’t just move on her. We need to tell her why!! We owe it to her.”
I began slowly backing away down the stairs. A baby?! My mom was pregnant? And what was this about moving? When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I started pounding my feet on the stairs and screamed as loudly as I could, “I”M HOME!!”
My mom appeared on the top of the stairs, followed quickly by my dad. Her voice sounded awfully cheerful. “Hi, sweetie!! Are you feeling OK today?” she looked at my face, than spoke again hesitantly. “Did you… did you visit his grave today? Kyle’s, I mean?”
The familiar tears came to my eyes, and I had to take a deep breath before I could respond. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. And all the others. Hey, mom, why don’t they put anything about them on the graves? I mean, why don’t they talk about, like, their lives or anything? A lot of those kids were amazing! They deserve to be remembered by more than just ‘A beloved daughter. We will remember her fondly.’ ”
My parents exchanged glances, obviously uncomfortable about the direction this conversation had taken. Finally, dad sighed. “Well, um, we, um, we have something to talk about, but we will definitely get back to this. For now, though, we, um, well, we are moving to Texas.”
I looked at them, shocked at how soon they told me. “Wh-what? Mom, dad you- you can’t do this, it’s not fair!! Kyle’s grave is here! I’ve been here my whole life!! Please don’t do this!! Mom, tell dad not to do this.”
“Aw, baby. The thing is, I agree with dad on this. It’s not healthy for you to sit here and wallow in your miseries. You need to get out, and I don’t think here is the place to do it- aw, baby, don’t run away, come on, hear me out!!”
I ran upstairs before my mom could finish. I slammed the door shut, and collapsed on the bed. As I stared up at the ceiling, a thought occurred to me. I would be going to a new town, where nobody knows anything about me. For all they knew, I was some self-centered New Yorker, or cattle-ranching Kentucky bumpkin. Nobody had to know that I was from Columbine. I thought about the dash on the graves of the thirteen who had died. The dash would have a different meaning to me. It would be an opportunity to live my life to the fullest.

“Okay, sweetie, you ready to go?” I stood outside my house, now empty. My mom was beside me, her baby now an evident bump between her hips. About nine weeks after telling me we were moving, she had told me about the baby. Now, seven months after the news about the baby, we were finally on our way, and I still couldn’t decide if I was happy or sad about the move. Although I was excited about a bigger house and getting away from the pain in Columbine, I was sad about the same thing.
Well, I wasn’t about to say this to my mom, who was almost as hormonal as me, her 15-year-old daughter, so I said what any good daughter would say: “Yeah, mom, I am. Let’s go.” And we were off.
***
We were in the car for hours. I would listen to my iPod, sleep, or watch my mom. I was nervous about her, since her baby was due any day now. The drive was so tense that the emotions we felt were tangible things. Finally, we pulled into a hotel for the night. The next morning we left at 6: oo a.m. We drove for 6 hours straight. At about noon, we pulled up to our new house.
“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The place was gorgeous, two stories in a classic Victorian design. When we walked inside, I saw stunning marble floors and a spiral staircase. All-in- all, the house was everything I could dream of and more- except for the fact that it wasn’t mine.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” My mom grabbed my hand and led me up the elegant staircase. She led my down a small hallway, and into what was probably the biggest room I had ever seen. The walls were striped green and blue, with a brown circle design. My bed was already here, courtesy of my dad, who came down two weeks early to get everything set up. In the old house, my bed took up the whole room. Here, however, not only did I have my bed and two dressers, but I had a nightstand, a green reading lamp, a blue lounge chair, and a desk. And I still had left-over room!!
“O my god, mom, thank you sosososo much I love it!!!” I grabbed my petite mom, who stumbled backwards, laughed, and hugged me back. “And I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting lately. I mean, just because I was upset about the move doesn’t mean I had the right to freak out at you and dad all the time. You and dad have tried so hard to help me over everything that has happened, and I’ve pushed you aside, and I’m trying to say , well, I love you, mom.”
My mom was crying, which was weird because she never cried, not even when my grampa had died. She pulled me next to her, and I hugged her awkwardly. “Aw, baby. This will be an amazing opportunity. For all of us. We can raise little Kylie Jr. away from all the hurt in Columbine. And who knows? Maybe you can meet somebody, you know, a boy…”
I stiffened and pulled away. The tears that always seemed to be waiting right behind my eyeballs now threatened to escape. I took a deep breath. “Mom, I’m not ready to move on. I still love Kyle, and I really need you to respect that. Now can you leave for a while? I need to be alone. You, know, like, to unpack and stuff.”
My mom looked at me with a probing look in her eyes. Finally she seemed to decide that I was fine, and she left the room.
I breathed a sigh of relief, and then slumped to the ground. The tears that I couldn’t show in front of my mother slipped out of the corners of eyes. If only she knew why it was so hard to talk about Kyle… if only she knew about the night before his death…
I was running across the playground, closely followed by Kyle, who was trying to catch me. He finally caught up, and pulled me to the ground. I squealed, but then looked into his eyes. The playfulness was gone, replaced with a serious but loving gaze that took my breath away.
“I love you, Maylisa Norton.” His tone was as serious as his eyes.
Before I could say anything, he bent down and softly kissed my lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, and filled me with a love as deep as the Circadian Sea, as unchanging as the stars in the sky.
Finally he pulled away, but that deep look in his eyes remained. “May, I’m joining the army this year. I don’t know how long I will be gone, but I do know that I couldn’t bear the thought of not having you here for me when I get back. I know that you are young, and that my time with you has been short, but, Maylisa Norton, will you wait for my return?”
I was shocked. I expected him to say many things, but not this. “I- I- yes!!!! One hundred times yes!!!” I took him in my arms, and our lips met, he leaned down, pressing me against the soft grass…
I awoke from my dream with as start. “Kyle!!” I reached out for him, before remembering that he was gone. When this realization hit me, I slumped onto my pillows, feeling nothing but the utter anguish of loosing Kyle. Sobs racked through me so hard that I felt like I, too, was dying.
Why Kyle? I thought to myself. Why him? Why couldn’t it have been me? It could have been me… it should have been me!! Kyle, Kyle, why did you leave me? Why did they take you from me? I loved you!! I still love you!!!
***

The next morning I was awakened by mother coming in the room and pulling open the curtains. Light spilled onto my face and into my eyes, causing me to have to squint to see. I threw my hands up to cover my eyes.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!!! It’s time for you to go to school!!”

What was she talking about? We moved here yesterday!! She didn’t actually expect me to start school this soon after moving?! “Sch-school? You gotta be kidding me!!!”

“Oh, no I’m not!! You’re going to school, and you won’t be talking me out of it, so don’t try.” My mother came over to rip off my blankets, then stomped out of my room.

For a few seconds I lay there, trying to gather my thoughts and wake myself up enough to get ready to go to school. School!! How could my parents do this to me? The last time I went to a public school was freshman year- and then, I was almost killed!!! Now, my sophomore year is almost over. I would be intruding on an already-formed system, would enter school and already be an outsider. Great. I’ve always dreamed of going into school and automatically being a freak.
When I finally mustered the courage to get out of bed and get ready for school, my parents had already left for work. I was about to totally loose it and begin panicking, but then I saw a note on the fridge. May, sorry, got called early. Bus stops right outside of the house. Love you, Mom.

I read through the note five times before it sunk in that my mother, my paranoid, overprotective, domineering mother was throwing me to the sharks on the first day of school by making me get onto the school bus. I almost ran back to my room and dived under the covers, but instead thought of Kyle. If he could join the military and leave everything behind (even me) then I could get onto a school bus.

Okay so, this was all fine and dandy in my head. The problem came when I was actually standing outside my front door waiting for the bus. A small crowd of teens were standing on my curb, laughing, smiling, and comparing cell phones. I wasn’t even at school yet, and I already felt like a total outsider.

Finally, one of the girls looked around and saw me sitting there, completely alone.
“Hi!!” She walked over to me hesitantly, unsure of who I was or what I was doing here.

“Umm… hi.” I looked at the girl. She was petite, with soft features and friendly eyes. Her build just screamed cheerleader, but her eyes spoke differently. When I realized I was staring, I quickly looked away. Although I didn’t want to seem like a creeper, I also didn’t want to be rude.

“I’m Mariana. You can call me May.” That startled me right out of being shy.

“Wait, did you say your name was May?”

“Umm, yeah, I did.” The girl looked at me as if maybe she should be worried about my sanity, so I quickly explained.

“No, it’s just- my name is Maylisa, and everybody calls me May. I just thought it was cool that two different names had the same nickname, and that somehow, by complete coincidence, two girls with different names met each other and found out that they go by the same nickname and now you’re all looking at me like I’m crazy.” In fact, that is exactly how they were looking at me- like I was somebody who should maybe be locked up.

For a second, I thought that there was no possible way I would end up friends with these people, but suddenly one of the guys started cracking up.

“Wow, you’re right! That’s so weird! But hey, would it be ok if we call you Lisa? I mean, it just works better than changing Mariana’s nickname.”

I took in a deep breath of relief. “Yeah, sure!! My boyfriends little brother, he-” but at the mention of Kyle’s brother, a lump came to my throat.

Luckily I was saved from having to explain my sudden silence by a huge yellow school bus pulling up. The boy who had spoken smiled.


“Great! Now that new girl is here, I have somebody to sit with. My name’s Luke, by the way. Luke Neerler.” He laced his arm through my own, and led me onto the bus. As it the yellow vehicle pulled away from the curb, I became aware that I had left my fears behind.