светлина - The Anglo-American School of Sofia

The Beginning
Marie van Aalst
Short Story
As my “Seguir Adelante” playlist finished, I looked up and restrained a
deep sigh. I still had at least four, if not five more hours of hiking left. And as
much as I loved my encouraging playlist, even my favorite songs became repetitive.
I quickly hiked up to the nearest rock and sat on it to rest. Once more I
looked up, for just one second, and the sun blinded me. “Really” I asked myself
while laughing. “After all you’ve done to get here, you even think of hiking
down” I closed my eyes, leaned back into the morning sun, and thought of my
friend who had raved about this thing she called a bucket list.
“So, you know, I mean basically, like, yeah.” Mercedés said. She is one
of the most beautiful girls I know. She had thick natural red hair; her eyes were
dark green with a hint of blue near the center. Her smile would light up anyone’s
day, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, nothing intelligent
came out. She talked for ages, always going on about her current obsessions,
which at that moment was a bucket list. I had known Mercedés since we were
little; both she and I went to the same English private school in Alicante. Since
both of us were the only Spanish students in the whole middle and high school,
we bonded. After many years of struggling, I had become an expert at translating
her stories to common English for our friends. She was aware of her ongoing
stories, but all she said about it was “Love me for me, and I mean, like, if you
don’t then don’t listen.”
“So basically, according to you everyone should, like, make a list before
God kicks their bucket” Great, now even I sound like her. Instead of giving me
a straightforward answer she smiled and went on about what would be on her
list. My thoughts trailed off thinking about what I would put on my bucket list.
I thought about the mountain right outside Alicante; how its shadow towered
over our city when the sun would rise; how its height appears discouraging, yet
the mountain seemed to hide a secret. I opened my eyes and took out my
phone. My background was a picture of Mercedés, my parents and me the day
before I left on my trip. Mercedés was the only one smiling. The chilly wind
reminded me to continue hiking before it got too cold although the weather
forecast said the sun would be shining all weekend. I untied my jacket from my
waist, dropped my bulky bag on the floor, and put it on. I stretched my back to
relieve it from the heavy load I’d been carrying. “You will freeze up on the mountain!
When you return don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you!” My mother’s voice
haunted me as I reached some big boulders that would be really tough to hike
up.
“Alexander, what is this stupid piece of paper There is coffee spilled on
it and it’s all wrinkled. Here, take this filthy thing back.” My mom tossed it on the
coffee table.
“Please, Madre, it is not stupid. It is a list of things I want to do.”
“So I don’t care.”
“Mamá, this means a lot to me. I want to complete this list before, well,
before God kicks my bucket.”
“Kicks your bucket” Both she and my father looked at me in disbelief,
and started laughing. Not at what I said, but at me. I had never gotten support
from my parents. I thought back to when I was four and all my friends knew
how to ride a bike. I asked my dad to show me, but he was too busy working. I
had to teach myself and when I succeeded; neither wanted to come and watch
me. I grabbed my piece of paper and opened it.
“I want to…” My father cut me off, “Listen, you should know that whatever
you do, do it in your free time. Don’t try to include us, we have our own
problems, and you don’t have to add another one to it.”
“Look at yourself, you could be in so many girls’ dreams. Nineteen is
young; you are tall, your dark curls appeal mysterious to girls; and let’s not forget
that you have the same gorgeous green eyes like me,” my mother added,
“You are a bit too skinny though. You should go to the gym and work out instead
of making lists about things you want to do. Find a girl like Mercedés.”
I heard my father whisper “Like he can get a girl like her.”
“And settle down before you get too old.” My mother finished. I stood up
and walked out, I didn’t even want to reply, nor did I try to. All I could think of
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