Make It Count

My alarm goes off at the same time it does every morning, seven. I snake my arm out from beneath the warmth of my blankets to turn it off and stare up at the ceiling as I think about my day. The front door slams shut as my sister strides into the house, it always closes behind her with such force that I can feel the house tremble. The walls are thin, so much so that I can make out the song she’s humming along with in her headphones. She kicks off her running shoes, and next comes the whir of the blender being turned on. This is when I have to crawl out of my bed, tearing my eyes from the blank ceiling as she calls up the stairs, “Raine! I hope you’re up.” It’s the same every morning, and I call back down, “I’m up. Coming down in five.”

The floorboards creak no matter how swiftly I move, sorting through the pile of clothes on the floor of my closet until I find something that seems somewhat nice. No doubt that Eden will roll her eyes regardless of the effort I put into what I’m wearing. Flannels and jeans are not exactly stylish by her terms, but then again, we couldn’t be more different. She gets up to run every morning as if she actually likes it, something I find hard to believe. She stretches and drinks smoothies, and always looks like she’s just walked out of a salon. I make my way down the stairs, seeing her blonde hair is pulled back in a perfect ponytail, while my brown hair frizzes at the end.

Her voice is high pitched per usual, as she sets a smoothie down in front of me, “How’s the job going?” She’s trying to be nice, trying to bond with me. It’s the same every morning. “It’s going fine.” I say, sipping on the smoothie she made as she stares at me from across the table. She’s worried about me, I know. She used to bring it up right about now, but I think she’s started to give up. I don’t blame her. We’ve lived together since I was little, and she gained custody of me as my guardian. We don’t talk about our parents, and she’s tried to keep things consistent for me throughout the years. I appreciate everything she’d done for us, but her being in her thirties, and me creeping into my mid-twenties, I don’t need her watching my every move.

I think she hopes I’ll move out at some point, and honestly I do too. I never wanted to stay here so long, but as much as I want things to change, they always stay the same. I wake up to the same ceiling, I hear the same noises, we force polite exchanges at the same table. I go to the same job where I do the same work, and then come home, go to sleep, and wake up to do it all over again. It’s so simple, and yet I feel so exhausted with every day that goes by. I stand up and rinse out the smoothie glass, grabbing my little satchel off the counter as I head towards the door to leave. Eden calls out the same thing she does every morning as I walk out the door, “Make today count, Raine. I love you.”

I call out that I love her too before the door closes behind me. I climb into my car and sigh. It feels like I’m watching my life go by in a movie, and it’s the most boring movie I’ve ever seen. I drive to the same coffee shop that I do every day, and find that the warmth of it hitting the pit of my stomach is the most alive I feel each day. It’s one of the only moments that reminds me I’m alive, rather than just existing. This is usually the point at which I would start my drive to work, but there’s a girl sitting outside that I haven’t seen here before. She’s maybe a few years younger than me, and when it starts to rain, I expect her to dash inside, but instead she sits in it and smiles.

Something about that hits me in the gut, and my stomach twists as I sit and watch her look up at the sky, droplets running down her face. It’s such a simple thing to do, enjoy the rain as it falls. She’s alive, she’s living. I want that. It hits me like lightning hitting a metal rod in an empty field. Make today count, Raine. I get throw the car door open and swing my legs out, stepping into the rain. It’s cold on my skin, and I feel a smile spread across my own face. I feel electrified, and I can’t believe how long I’d been so dull. Tears mix with the water streaming down my face, and I don’t even care that my clothes are soaking into the cloth seats when I get back in the car. I just start driving.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I can’t stop. I roll down the windows and let the air whistle through, tossing my hair around as it tunnels through the car. I laugh and turn the radio on as loud as it can go. I think I must look insane, and I wonder what Eden would think of me. How unruly I must look in this moment, but I don’t care, as my hair whips across my face I feel more alive than I’ve felt in years and I’m chasing that feeling like I might lose it at any moment. I think my sister can understand that. I think she’s been trapped too, and wanting to push me to break free. I’m missing work today, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’ll be going back anyway.

The car engine roars as I push down on the gas pedal, hurdling down the highway. Goosebumps cover every inch of my skin and I breathe so deep I swear my lungs ache in the best way. The sun sets as I continue driving, listening to music, and getting as far away as I can. I only stop when I’m so exhausted I might fall asleep at the wheel, pulling into this little motel on the side of the highway. Yesterday the thought of being here would have terrified me, but now I find it exhilarating. The woman at the counter takes me in, eyeballing me up and down as she takes my card to charge me for a room.

Just before the elevators, a table of pamphlets catches my eye. Each of them has a different activity in a bold font. I can feel the clerks eyes on me as I scoop up a copy of each one. I turn to her before I get on the elevator, speaking my first words since I left, “You’ve got to make every day count right?” I wink as I step forward. I get to my room and go straight for the shower, letting the bathroom get as steamy as possible while I take what might possibly be the longest shower of my life. When my head hits the pillow, the only thing I am afraid of is that I will wake up and feel the same as the day before.

There is no alarm blaring as my eyes open, only the sun coming in through the crack of the curtains. I glance up at the ceiling for a moment, taking in the small crack that runs right through the middle of it. I smile as my heart pounds, excited for the day ahead, and relieved that I am alive once more. I spread the pamphlets out on the small table and shuffle them. I close my eyes and pick one up. Bungee jumping. That’s what I’ll be doing today. I tuck the rest of them in my purse, and head out the door towards my car. My phone buzzes in my pocket, Eden’s picture on the screen. I answer, letting her know I am okay, but that I might not be home for a while.

I tell her I’m on an adventure, and she for once her voice doesn’t sound so tightly wound she could pop. I feel full as I tell her that I don’t exactly know where I’m going, but I’ll send her pictures as I go. I end the call and look to the road ahead of me, and the activities sticking out of my purse. Skydiving, bungee jumping, white water rafting. All of them are extreme, and all of them pull at this little string in my heart that makes me grin from ear to ear. Today, bungee jumping. Tomorrow, who knows. I turn the music on and roll down the windows, my only fear is losing this feeling