Find the cost of freedom

Deep within the ground;
Mother Earth will swallow you
Lay your body down.

The beautiful voices of Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young and a thousand others echoed in my mind as clearly as if they were all standing behind me. I couldn't get the tune out of my head. In between talking to Hally and hiding from Wendy on Community Service Day I had been contemplating my home situation and had come to the conclusion that I wanted to live somewhere else until finals were over.

I began considering people whose houses I could crash at for a few nights at a time. I calculated for how long, in a hypothetical situation, Oona's parents would be willing to put up with me and how long it would take Amanda's father to notice me; I considered Harry's family (too polite with mine), Elena's parents' trustability (her place is feasable, except that she wakes up very early... still a pretty good idea), the natures of Rachel's dads, and finally how badly my parents would react if I called them on the phone and told them that, with no rebellious or spiteful intentions, I intended to live elsewhere for three to four weeks. I calculated the potential damages; would I still be able to take my writing classes over the summer? Go to Prom? See my friends? Would they march up to the school and demand that I be turned over to the authorities? Imitate Rachel's parents and demand that my school-related punishments be made permenant?

Find the cost of freedom
Deep within the ground;
Mother Earth will swallow you, so
Lay your body down.

In turn, as I shopped briefly for cookie dough with Molly, Hally and Jane and later for sandals, I began questioning how much I really needed to get out of the house anyway. It's true that I'm pretty much grounded for the rest of the year, but my summer looks glorious (from here, anyway), and I don't want to jeopardize it. And if I did contrive to live elsewhere and then did badly on my finals, I'd only prove to them that their previously-held notion that without severe goading I am incapable of finishing the simplest of assignments would almost be proven.

Although at the moment REM seemed proof of divine benevolence, I browsed through my playlist for almost ten minutes on the corner of 13th and 5th to find the live version of the song. I couldn't help but begin to doubt myself and everyone else.

When madmen lead the blind...

The one person I still couldn't doubt was waiting for me upstairs with sweet kisses and tender eyes, but a self-irritated irritability was settling over me and I made the poor fellow dodge potential arguements left and right like hastily thrown handfuls of mud. Eventually I ran out of ammo and everything was lovely again and I felt guilty.

The song was cycling now, one loop over the next as I felt warm arms behind me, the thousand voices multiplying each time and melting together periodically.

Renata and her friend Erica had gone to the basement to push each other around in laundry carts, so when Harry went home I was left to eat broccoli and refried beans (my dinner!) with my mom.

And still the thousand voices in my ears, speaking at different times now; "F-find--find the--find--the cost--"

"Mom," I said as sweetly as I could, "do you know what this Sunday is?"

"Well," she said, "If today's the twelfth..."

"It's Harry's and my one-year anniversary."

"Oh," she said. "That's nice."

"Do you think we could go out to dinner?"

"V, you're grounded!"

I opened my eyes as wide and as humbly as I could and looked up at her with my best baby-doll face. "Please?"

"Your dad grounded you. You'll have to talk to him about it."

"Mom, you know he won't listen to me."

"Well, ask nicely."

"Mom!"

"V," she said, and her eyes were glossy. I dropped my fork and I bent to pick it up. I pretended I was cleaning the rug to avoid resurfacing and meeting her gaze.

"You're so smart, V... ever since you were little they told us... you're so smart, you should be getting A's... it wasn't this hard when we did it... I just want you to be successful, V..."

Find the cost of freedom

"Is it because you don't want to? Are you still trying, V? V, look at me!"

Deep within the ground;

"V, I worked my whole life so my kids could go to a good school, and here you are and you don't even notice."

Mother Earth will swallow you

It was another one of those moments that makes me feel like I have to get out at all costs.

I hate her for guilting me like this but I don't know if I can bear to see her cry.

I hate giving in but I can't bear to see her hurt.

I'll hate every minute of it, and I know already that I'll regret anthing I promise a hundred times over.

And yet...

"Mom, I notice. I'll work hard, Mom, I promise I will. I'll get a good grade. I'll do the best I can. I'll work as hard as I can utnil the school year's over. I really will. I promise."

Why, why, why do I always do this to myself when I know they won't ever reciprocate? Am I really this weak?

"Did you hear me? I promise, Mom, I swear I will."

...But lay your body down.