After a few eternal minutes of no such luck, I sat up again. I put my still-tingling hands up to my temples, trying to recollect my thoughts. The more I thought about Alana's dream, the more it seemed likely to occur. 'Maybe her dream was trying to warn me about something,' I thought. 'Like she said before, maybe it was like a sign for us not to get too close to each other because we'd regret it later on. Oh, God, now I'm beginning to sound like one of those psychic people, too,' I silently scolded myself. Brushing the absurd thought from my still-troubled mind, I settled down under the covers and took all of five minutes to fall asleep.
A few short hours later, I was rudely awakened by the thing that my parents refer to as my "younger brother". I, however, think of "it" as everything that a human being is not. Waking up every solitary morning at seven o' clock to watch the X-Men is one of those horrid qualities.
"Zac, cut it out, will ya?" I mumbled sleepily to the hyper creature clad in yellow that got humor out of nearly breaking my back and using my bottom bunk as a trampoline and catapult.
"Tay, it's time to rise and shine! Ike says we have to practice in an hour," he stated in a sing-song voice, proud of his knowledge.
"Well, must you wake me up now?" I inquired in an English accent, mocking politeness, my eyes finally adjusting to the bright light spilling into the room from the glass window that I could stand level with when I was upright. "Wake me up in an hour."
"But that's when we have to practice!" Zac persisted, oblivious to the point I was trying to immensely prove.
"My point exactly," I retorted, rolling over once again, only to unexpectedly fall halfway off my warm, comfortable bed. I cursed under my breath, and tugged the remainder of my weary body back onto it's desired destination.
"Taylor!" Zac whined, not wanting to give up on his mission to bug every single solitary nerve out of my body. I sighed, groaned, and dramatically dragged my disconnected-feeling legs to the bathroom, where the hot water from the pale blue shower beat down on my bare back like the sun.
After taking a soothing shower and hastily dressing in a white and black horizontally striped shirt and black baggy corduroys, I slowly trudged down the steps where the rest of my over-sized family sat, eating contentedly at our oval-shaped kitchen table.
"You finally decided to join us," my mom commented, acknowledging my presence in the room. I pretended that I lacked to hear that remark and proceeded to pour a bowl of cereal out for myself. After devouring the sugary substance rather quickly, I stood up and excused myself from the table. I needed music. That happened to me quite frequently. An emotion too deep to explain just came over me sometimes, massively telling me that I needed music. Listening to my instincts, I walked into our studio downstairs, which was covered with paintings and drawings from my artistically inclined mind. I turned on my keyboard, brushed some random dust off of the ebony and ivory, and ran my skilled fingers across them. I was soon lost in the magical word of music, letting the melody take over my thoughts completely. I played and sang random notes, and before I had a chance to merely realize it, I had composed a new song. When I had finished mentally recollecting my fresh piece of "artwork", I decided to play a song that would be on our newly released album, MMMBop. I had played and loved music so much now that the songs and tunes were all a very important part of me, Taylor Hanson. I closed my eyes as each word fell out of my mouth…
You have so many relationships in this life
Only one or two will last
You're going through all this pain and strife
Then you turn your back and they're gone so fast
And they're gone so fast…
So hold onto the ones who really care
In the end they'll be the only ones there…
As I sang that un-completed line, I glanced up, sensing company. I looked around suspiciously and, sure enough, Alana was standing before me, her face quite difficult to read. However, when I dropped my hands from the poised position atop the keyboard and took a closer look at her, her face screamed of pain, confusion, and most of all, sadness. This was one of the rare times when I was truly quite proud of myself for being so sensitive towards one's feelings, because I tend to read into their mind and souls. Taken aback, I stepped away from my rightful instrument and walked swiftly towards my loyal best friend who had stood by me through anything. "Al, what's wrong?"
She took one single look at my face, and a sad look I'd never seen before in her welled up in her usually bright hazel eyes. "It's like I'm reliving the dream I just had, Taylor. We're really moving away."
I was so immensely startled that I nearly lost my normally-good footage. Luckily, I composed myself and looked at her, trying to hold back my doubtful feelings. Then, I said the lamest thing possible. "What?"
Alana sighed, and took my warm hands in hers. She pulled me out the back door, and into the screened in porch. "You heard me. We're moving."
"No," I shook my head firmly. Maybe I was the one having the horrid dream this time. I would not let her lead me into believing the cruel joke that she was actually moving. "You're not leaving, Al."
"Oh, Tay," Alana whispered, looking directly into my disturbed eyes. "Don't go into denial on me. We are moving. For six months, though, hopefully at the least. This time, unlike in my dream, it's for my dad's job. It would be so easier to just move instead of my dad having to drive all the way to the outskirts of Oklahoma every day. If we like the new place, and my dad's satisfied enough with the job quality, then we'll move there for good. If things aren't looking so hot, then we'll come back to Tulsa." She acted cool on the outside, but inside, she was actually quite vulnerable. Internally, her heart was aching and she longed to let her emotions free. But, her strong instincts once again took over and instructed her to act totally in control of this awkward situation that seemed to hover over both of them like those horrible, ugly black clouds that float above unfortunate cartoon characters. 'Maybe that's what I am. What I have been all along. Just a character. The name Alana Lorell Benson means nothing. Just a mere name that comes and goes as quickly as dejavue,' she thought. Whatever position she was in, it felt as if she were acting and this was all one big play or show for a happy, optimistic audience to enjoy.
"I can't believe this," I groaned, putting my head in my trembling hands. I was on the slightest verge of crying, but for the sake of Alana and myself, I held them back by keeping my eyelids utterly still, unless I had a pulsating urge to blink. Finally, feeling that I could no longer hold back the tears hiding behind my ever-growing emotional barrier, I just let them pour out of my eyes like a dam overflowing after a terrible storm.
Alana noticed my sudden breakdown and got immensely uncomfortable. "I-I think I'll go now," she stammered, rising to her slightly unstable feet.
"Wait!" I cried frantically. Then, realizing how desperate I'd just sounded, I added, "when are you leaving?"
Alana looked thoughtful for a moment, then glanced back at my face, which still had uncontrolled tears rolling down them, making a miniature damp puddle on my jeans. "In a week or two, possibly three. Don't worry, Taylor. I won't leave without saying good-bye." With that, my best friend walked out the door, her eyes still stunningly dry.
I stared after her for a few minutes, then turned my gaze back to the ground. When I looked up, I saw Ike and Zac standing near the door, ears pressed against it, in hope of gathering crucial information from our pointless, yet life-explanatory conversation. 'Why am I not surprised?', I thought, shaking my head gravely. 'Why am I not surprised.'
Sudden impulse taking over me, I opened the door that my two obnoxious relations were leaning on, sending them both flying into the screened in porch, flailing onto the hard cement surface.
"Ow!" Zac complained, trying his best to sound utterly pitiful.
"Damn Tay," Isaac tried his best to mimic Zac's voice, but ended up accurately imitating a very sick monkey.
"You deserved it," I simply replied, brushing past both of my stunned brothers strewn across the floor like careless articles of clothing. As I walked over to my keyboard and turned it on again, my brothers entered the room, Zac whistling innocently.
"So, what did Al have to say?" Ike inquired, feigning innocence.
"Nothing that you don't already know," I shot back, sincerely wondering if they had really heard our lame excuse for a conversation.
"What?" Ike now added a look of surprise on his face.
I had to laugh at their ever so feeble attempts to get the horrible information out of me. "Nevermind. Come on, let's practice." My brothers eyed me with looks of confusion, but none-the-less, stepped up to their instruments and launched into the first song.
