~ Wherever She May Be ~
The Real Story of Teresa:
I was in my twelfth year of school and Teresa was in tenth grade. I knew Teresa by a variety of school clubs and several classes. Teresa was a real sweetheart, daddy's little girl and teacher's pet,in the running for her class Valedictorian.She was on her way to Yale, Princeton or Harvard, and she had plans. Big plans.
Teresa and her father would often go for joy rides, looking at the new houses that were being built in our neighborhood. One day she found a house that she absolutely loved. I mean she adored it. Saying, "It was perfect." Her father said that when she turned 21, he would buy that house for her. I have no idea if he was serious or just joking around with her.
During winter recess, Teresa's father died under suspicious circumstances. The police investigated, no one was arrested. None of the details were released, even to this day. His death was not publicly announced. I only knew because she let it slip once. Judging from the reaction of the teachers they didn't know, I don't think many people did.
On the day of his death, Teresa was busy helping her best friends prepare to pass some test when they got back to school. Her best friends were going out of town to a sporting event and wouldn't be back until the day before school resumed.
As far as I know, Teresa was the one who found her father. Due to the EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) or otherwise known as the paramedics, harsh words affecting her so much. She overheard one of them saying, "If she had gotten home an hour earlier her father would still be here." (Side note: The EMT who said this was fired and lost his license. Several doctors said that even if her father did arrive an hour earlier he still would have died.)
Teresa continued with school, clubs and everything. I noticed that she was unusually pale and lethargic. Things were coming to a head and soon. End of year exams were approaching when she snapped.
In the girl's bathroom, is where I found her. Bawling her eyes out, her hair was crazy. She was slightly crazy. I had two choices. One: stay and try to calm her down or two: go get a teacher. I chose to stay. I knew grief; I just didn't know how deeply hers ran. Teresa ranted and raved. Saying what I thought were wild things. But some I found out later to my distaste were real.
What set her off was the night before coming to school that day. Her father's grave was vandalized. Not to the extent in this story. His tombstone was tipped over and broken. The dream of living in the house, her special house as she called it was snatched from her when it was sold. Teresa quit school later that day. Later in the month I found out that Teresa went to live with her grandma on her father's side in another state.
It would be five years until I saw her again. I meet up with Teresa at Applebee's (an American restaurant). Looking pale but healthy, not really happy but content. She said she was sorry for all the things she said to me that day, saying that it weighted heavily on her for years. I told her that if I didn't understand that it was grief related then I wouldn't have been a friend.
I asked Teresa how she had been. She told me that her best friend, who is a male by the way, would come up every chance he got. Holding up her hand, I spied a ring. They were going to get married. Teresa's fiancée looked rough and tough but had a gentle way about him; I congratulated her. Our conversation lasted only a few more minutes, since I didn't go to the restaurant alone.
Now I haven't seen Teresa since. But she has been on my mind all week, hence the reason why I wrote this. I only hope I did her some justice. My finial hope for Teresa is that where she is that she has some peace, hope and even more importantly happiness.