What's he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin.

If we are marked to die, we are enough

To do our country loss; and if to live,....
"I don't get this bullshit, Cleo." Seth pouted at the camera.

"Come on," I chided to my twin brother, "just finish the line."

He sighed and climbed up on the wooden box, using the fence in our backyard for support. Shakesphere resumed......

"CLEO!!" A voice below me yelled. I screwed my eyes shut trying to remember every part of the dream I could.God knows I would need it today.

"CLEO!" My mother yelled again, the voice coming up the stairs.

I laid immobile in my bed, trying desperately to act like today wasn't happening.

" Cleo, you need to get up." My eyes reopened and landed on my mother.

Time had aged her, and her once youthful face was tired.

I made an inhuman noise in response, and rolled out of bed. She was satisfied, and left me to get ready.

The rays of sunlight threatened to burst from my blinds and fill the darkness in my room.

I sealed them tighter and pulled an outfit from my drawers.

"Finally, " My mother said. I could hear the exasperation in her voice.

I stopped at the landing mirror. My reflection was was one I barely reconized.

My auburn hair was in a ponytail, but normally it fell to my shoulders. I was paler and skinner than I used to be. The Upstate New York rays had only hit my skin a couple times in the past year.

My green eyes stared back at me, rimmed with dark circles, giving away my many sleepless nights.

The peach tanktop that once clung to my body, now just hung awkwardly.

I brushed away the few remaining hairs on my face, willing myself to make it through today.

I walked into the kitchen and the conversation ceased.

My dad's eyes were glazed as he looked my over. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart."

Why was everyone acting like i had a choice in this?

I looked away, and busied myself with the toaster.

"Honey, we just think this is what's best for you. Maybe it's what you finally need to move on." My mother hesitantly wondered, not knowing if she had said the right thing.

I popped the cap of my Paxil bottle and downed two of the little capsules.

Move on.

That's all anyone ever wanted me to do these days.

I leaned aganist the counter top and listened to the quiet humming of the dishwasher.

Why did I even make this deal in the first place.....

"I'm hommmeee." I slurred, stumbling into the kitchen.

The dissapointment was evident in my parents face. I had spent yet another night drinking and smoking.

My mom hesitantly walked forward trying to determine if I had sobered up yet, and led me to the couch.

"I've had enough Cleo." My mom didn't resort to her usual yelling, reserved for when I came home like this, this time was different, her voice was eerily calm.

She forced a pamphlet into my hand. Restoring Revival: a camp for greiving children.

"I DON'T WANT THIS SHIT." I screamed. I threw the pamphlet down, crumpling it under my heel.

My reality had smacked me in the face. I buried my head in my hands.

There was only one other option.

"Are you ready?" My dad placed his coffee cup on the island and looked at me expectantly.

I nodded and grabbed my soprano case.

I tried to mentally prepare myself for the storm that had began to brew.

I had made a deal.

One summer deal to keep me out of hell, had landed me right back in it.

The deal had consisted of one summer of marching band.