Writers debate

Title: 500 Sleepless nights Chapter 2: Calculus It was a rainy May afternoon. My mind rambled through my to-do list as I walked down the school hallway; pick up the check from Grandma, grab some rice from the store, study for calculus final. I've been so busy since mom had to pick up her second job. Mom. She's always been such a kind, gentle woman. Sometimes I think that might be her biggest flaw. I remember how beautiful she used to be when I was younger; her hair was a deep brown and full of curls, her skin lightly touched from the bountiful Florida sun. It's hard to look at her now with her cast-iron steaks, her face worn out from stress. I remember how she used to sit me down in her lap and read to me from the books she would pick up at the women's center; Winnie the pooh, Little bear, Green Eggs and Ham. "Geez, what am I doing?" I pinch the bridge of my nose. I know I can't keep getting distracted like this, not with finals so close. I've worked hard to make it to the top ten percent of my class, if I screw it up now so close to graduation I know I'll lose my scholarship to Gainesville. I couldn't do that to her, not after how hard she's worked. "I love the smell of rain." I snap back to life. "huh?" "The rain. I love the way it smells after it rains." "Petroleum asphalt..." I mumble. "what?" "Rain doesn't have a smell, you're smelling petroleum asphalt." "Why would I..." "When rains the water vapor in the air makes your sense of smell more acute. You're smelling your surroundings, not the rain. It the road you're smelling right now." I turn around. A girl with light brown hair and soft green eyes is staring at me. I recognize her from my statistics class. "You really are smart aren't you." I shrug it off, I can tell she feels uncomfortable but I hate it when people call me smart. "I've gotta go, I can't miss my bus. It was nice talking to you." She scurries off to the bus ramps, I'm left with my thoughts. It was a little under two years ago that the accident happened. I remember the smell most of all. The roads were slick and Dad couldn't handle the car. He veered into a sidewalk and the car flipped twice. Mom broke her collar bone, I fractured my wrist and broke a few ribs. Dad hit his head on the dashboard and bled. A lot. Thankfully the ambulance arrived on the scene quickly, Mom couldn't stop crying. I was just lost for what to do. The doctors treated Dad's wounds but he just wouldn't wake up. He almost came to a few times, but all he would talk about was his work. "The algoritm... Paremetric curve..." Dad was an engineer. I remember him getting up me up each morning to take me to school, he was always dressed already and holding his trademark thermos. My parents loved coffee. Dad always took his black, but mom would put creamer and spices in hers. I loved the way the house would smell when I woke up each morning. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans made the place feel more like home. It had finally become one. Mom just buys the big cans of coffee at Wal-Mart now... "Dammit." I whisper. I shake my head. I can't afford to lose focus, Not with only three weeks left until graduation. I'm only 107 out of a class of 1,096, if my grades slip at all I'm out of the top 10. I've always hated Math, and now my future is riding on the three AP math classes I'm needing to graduate with honors. I stop by Grandma's house and pick up a check from her, then by Wal-Mart to get the rice. It's 6:37pm at this point, I've lost thirty minutes. No matter how hard I try I can't quit thinking about Dad. "Unless I go and see him, I'm never going to be able to get any work done."I think. "God knows I haven't gone to see him in two months." I arrive at the hospital and trudge to his room, there's no one in there but him. I glance at the empty bed, his roommate Mr. Param is gone. There are no vital charts, no messy sheets, no personal belongings; he'd been fighting stage 3 Leukemia since before dad got here. I can't stand to see the sight. I pull the seperation curtain to. I turn to Dad. His hair has grown so much since he came here, he had never let it get longer than a centimeter or two and now it was at least four or five inches long. I don't say anything at first it's not like he can hear me. "Mom had to get another job. She started working at that diner on north street. she's still working at the dry-cleaning place in the morning." "..." "I've been working really hard in school. I finally got into the top ten percent." This feels awkward. I reach out and grab his hand, it's warm. I'm gentle lest I disturb the iv. drip. I want to tell him that I miss him, but I can't stand the thought of admitting that we don't have him any more. He had finally begun to clean himself up before all of this crap happened. He quit drinking, he got a steady job, he wasn't hitting... My eyes begin to well up and I realize how hard I'm squeezing his hand. I tell him I love him and leave. By the time I finally get home it's well after eight. I decide to skip dinner and settle for a glass of milk, I really need to study before bed. Mom comes in at midnight and brews a pot of coffee, I sit in the dining room with her for a few minutes. She takes the pot and pours some into her cup, taking a deep drink; no creamer, no spice. I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, she manages to ask me how my day was. Her smile so warm, so bright. We chat for a bit before I head off to bed. She begins to get ready for the dry cleaner. I know she won't get to sleep until this afternoon. As I drift off to sleep I hear the rain beginning to fall on the rooftop. Why does Florida have to have so much rain? --- Challenge: Patrick's parametric curve becomes erratic.