The Game of Life
    by Meredith K.

Chapter One:

A bloom of color bursts in the sky, and the crowd cries, “Ohhhhh!” A little girl in particular is amazed beyond her belief. That little girl was me. My name is Gabriel Sheryl Miller. I was born on September 11th, 1989. The first time I saw fire works was when I was 7, a little brunet with freckles and an overbite.
It was 4th of July, and I was spending it with my best friend, Kate. It was one of the most inspirational nights of my life! That is, it was, until the phone call.
Kate McGavle lived down the road from me, about a 15 minute bike ride, on the edge of Lake Michigan. Mr. McGavle treated me as he treated everyone else, tough but fair. But every now and then you caught glimpses of the real him, a kind dad who loved his family more than life itself. Mrs. McGavle on the other hand treated me like one of her own children. She always had home made salt-water taffy in a bowl in the front hall for visitors, and urged everyone to take some. Let me tell you, it tastes like heaven on your tongue.
Mr. McGavle was a big business man, and the Mrs. worked at home. That night right in the middle of the fire works, Mr. McGavle had to answer his phone. “Greg McGavle here, talk to me.” Suddenly he goes pale, something I’ve never seen him do. Mrs. McGavle looks at him worriedly, and all the kids turn around, the twins, Tim and Jim, 5, the 3 year old, Sammy, and Kate, my age. I just stare at him, face full of wonder. He gulps and says with a shaky voice, “Yes, yes, I’ll be right there. Yes, I’ll tell her.” He hangs up and puts his phone away, and looks at me. My heart drops to somewhere around my navel. “G-gabby, y-your house is on fire. Your family never came out.” It was like one of those moments in a cartoon where the zoom in on one of the character’s face and it pauses while the creepy music plays, and then they scream. That was a perfect example. I go all bug-eyed and scream so loud everyone around us turns to look at me.
“NOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THEY’RE NOT DEAD! YOU’RE LYING!!!!!!” Tears are streaming down my face, my voice becoming hoarse.
“Now- now Gabs -” he always called me that. “- nobody said they were dead, Gabs, and I’m not lying. C’mon, we’re gonna go see.” He puts his arm around me but I push it away angrily. Everyone in the family is staring at me, including all the people around us. I turn around, trying to find a way out, but all these eyes are burning me with their stares.
I scream, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I burst through the crowd, crashing into the fried dough stand, sugar going everywhere. I run to the exit and push the volunteer ticket taker out of my way. I ran and ran, all the way down the road, towards the sound of the sirens, mud and rocks getting into my shoes. I sob and sob, but keep running. I finally can see the house, seared with burning flames, being demolished. “MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMY!!!!!!! DADDDDDDDDDDDDDY!!” I run towards the house, trying to get to the door, but firemen hold me back.
“You can’t go in there,” one of them yells over the noise. “You’ll get hurt!”
“Hold her back!” Another one grabs me. “She’s gonna get killed!”
“MY PARENTS!!!! MY STUFF!!!!!!! THAT’S MY HOUSE!!! LET ME IN, LET ME IN!!!! CLEAT!!! WHERE’S CLEAT?!!” I’m throwing a tantrum now, looking around franticly for my dog, named after the kind of shoe you wear in soccer, seeing as that was my favorite sport. “COME HERE BOY!! LET ME GO, I HAVE TO FIND HIM!!” Suddenly a big collie jumps out my bedroom window, howling in pain. “CLEAT!!!!!!” I pull away from the firemen’s grips and run to his side, smothering the flames covering him. My dad storms out the door, carrying my mother in flames.
“SOMEBODY, HELP!! PLEASE, HELP HER!! SAVE HER, FORGET ME, HELP SUSAN!” He tries to put out the flames covering my mother, but they just grow. Somebody runs over and dumps water on them. My mother remains motionless. “SUSAN?!!! WAKE UP!! SOMBODY, GET HER TO THE HOSPITAL!!! HURRY!!” Paramedics come over and grab her, and put her on a stretcher, and run her to the ambulance, putting an air mask over her face. My dad looks at me, smiles, then faints. “DADDY!!!!!!!!” I try to run over to him, but neighbors hold me back. Another sets of paramedics rushes over, and puts him on a stretcher, and runs him to an ambulance. It speeds off. And I stand struggling against arms and hands, trying to get to the house. “SOMEBODY, SAVE MY HOUSE!!!” I cry harder and run over to Cleat, who seems to have the least damage of all of us. I weep, rubbing my face in his fur, then speak to him in a watery voice. “Well, It’s just us now, huh? Oh, Cleat!” I bawl my heart out ‘til I feel someone place their hand on my shoulder. I turn my head and see the whole McGavle family standing there.
“Come on, Gabs, you’ll spend the night with us, and we’ll take you to see Mitchell,” Mr. McGavle smiles in a sympathetic way, and the rest of the family follows in suit. I force a little grin, but then begin to cry again. Mr. McGavle picks me up and carries me to the car, Cleat limping after us. Kate and I sit in the back of the mini van with Cleat. I put my head on his side, and fall asleep wailing.

Chapter Two:

I must have slept 13 hours or something, ‘cause all I remembered was waking up in a hospital, my arm bandaged because of my burns, a man in a bed across from me. As everything came into focus, I saw him grinning threw burns and cuts. I hear a weak voice speak to me, like the person was exhausted. “Hey Gabby, wakey-wakey.” I perk up hearing that familiar saying, the one my dad always used. “Daddy? Daddy!” I jump out of the chair and run to my dad’s side. “Are you okay? How did I get here? Where’s mom?”
He puts his finger to his lips. “Shhhhhh, I’m fine, are you okay?”
I smile and hug him carefully. “I’m okay, how did I get here?” I give the same questioning tone as the first time. He smiles.
“Lyn brought you here. She didn’t want to wake you, and as soon as my doctor saw your burns, he went to work carefully dressing it and wrapping you up.” Lyn was Kate’s mom. I look at my arm, more aware of the bandage now.
I become worried once again, and panic crosses my face. “W-Where’s…where’s Mom?”
He becomes pale, even more than Mr. McGavle the night before. He swallows down tears and looks me in the eyes. “Gabby, I’m sorry. She…she didn’t make it.” A tear rolls down his cheek. My heart bursts with pain.
“No. No, she cant be…she cant be…” I can’t say it. “…dead.” Tears pore down my face, and I cry as I did the night before once more. Scenes of the fire flash before my eyes, Mom burning, Dad screaming, me trying to reach them. I break down and throw myself on Dad. “Daddy, no. I don’t want her to go. She’s not s’posed to die like this!” I’m now angry, but I can’t show it. I wanted to die then and there just so I could catch a glimpse of her beautiful face one more time. Dad strokes my head and cries with me. I can’t remember how long we cried for, but it seemed like a lifetime. A few days later he left the hospital and we moved to New York almost on the spot.
New York City, what a place. I spent the next year mourning over my mother along side my father, but we tried to make the best of it. We bought an apartment about a half a mile from the Twin Towers. I kept in touch with Kate by email and phone, and we stayed best friends. Thankfully they allowed pets in our building, or else we wouldn’t have anywhere to live, because I refused to lose another member of the family. The next 2 years went by pretty well, boys running around pulling braids and running off yelling, “COOTIES!”
For my 10th birthday I got a drum set, and immediately started a band with my buds. That same year I made sure the boys would never pull another braid while my band and I were around. We turned into total tomboys, and got shirts that had rock band names on them. Kate and I still kept in touch, even though she was one of those prissy cheerleader types that my crew didn’t like. One day she called and said that they had adopted a boy our age, and that he was pretty cute. “Whatever Kate, I don’t care if he’s cute, unless he is totally into ‘Garbage’ or ‘Good Charlotte’ or something like that, I don’t care!”
Kate just laughs. “You hit Ben right on the nose, Gabs, yes you did!” I laugh too.
“In that case he’s okay. Listen, I got practice soon, talk to you later?”
“Sure, flip it!” Kate hangs up. I totally found that little fraise of hers, “flip it,” totally obnocious. She once told me it was part of the team cheer, but I didn’t care.
I went to practice, the usual routine, warm ups, then a game I like to call “Follow the Leader” then we jam and share what we wrote. I personally think we had some good songs, but everyone else seemed to think we needed a tune up or to dive head first into giving up. We packed up and went home around 7 pm. As I walked down the street, I looked at the people walking by, staring. What, was it abnormal to see an 11 year old in a band with red highlights and punk cloths?
Anyway, the next day I tried to call Kate, but the line was busy. A month later I found out why.
Kate called me, her voice without a hint of her preppyness. She spoke to me in a shaky voice. “H-hey Gabs, uh, I mean ‘Slam.’” I forced a laugh as she did. The band decided to give me a name, you know, more “ferocious” than “Gabs.” Yeah, sarcasm, that’s me.
“Hey Kate, what’s up?” I give a bit of a worried tone with my question. On the other end you could hear her fighting back tears.
“Well, my parents…my parents are getting a divorce.” She lets a little sob out before stifling it again. I give a half gasp.
“Oh, Kate, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. Well, I have good news and, well, good news.” I laugh. That’s Kate for ya.
“Okay, give it to me doc’, I can take it.”
“Well, Daddy and Ben,” you could here a young male voice in the background snap something, “Sorry, I mean ‘Bent’ are moving to New York City.” I sort of do a little hop with glee.
“That’s awesome, we really need another guy in our group, seeing as the one we got can only play the guitar one string at a time.” I laugh as she does.
“Well, in other news, that means I get to see you every so often!” I here her perkiness start up again.
“That’s mega awesome! I can’t wait for you to meet the crew! So when’s Ben moving?” She must have heard the eagerness in my voice, because she laughs.
“Awwww, lil’ Miss Slam’s got a wittle cwush!” I blush even though no one but Benji on my poster can see me in my room.
“Shut up in advance!”
“No in advance!”
“Slap in advance!”
“Ow in advance!” We both burst with the giggles, like the words were tickling our funny bones. Just an expression. My dad knocks on my door and Cleat barks.
“Ri! I need the phone kiddo!” I groan, and Kate laughs.
“Ri? Where’d he come up with that?”
“Listen, I gotta go, catch ya on the line!”
“Flip it!” We hang up.

Chapter Three:

“Bent” as he was called and Mr. McGavle moved in on the floor below us. We immediately became buds, and Cleat liked him too. There was just something about him that caught my eye. Anyway, he had black hair gelled in spikes 24,7 with blonde tips to them all. He wore shirts just like mine, covered in rude sayings and band names. He became one of the lead singers in our band, no longer nameless, called “Slammin’ 4 Real.” He played the key board, but also did guitar.
That same summer I got braces, whoop-de-do. They were always black with another color, no matter how hard my dad tried to get me to change my mind. That was one of the most successful summers of my whole childhood. We even got a gig! Sure, it was at one of those dances to support the cheerleading squad, but it was a gig! Bent even asked me to dance once or twice! Oh, shut up! So I had a little crush, no biggy.
We packed up and said our good byes to the rest of the band around 11 pm, and walked home. I remember it like it was yesterday, well, maybe ‘cause I did remember it just yesterday. I had dropped one of my drumsticks right outside the door to the building. I bent down to get it, and when I stood up, he was over me. I started blushing like mad, but he kissed me anyway. And let me tell you, it was good. When he pulled away I was blushing more than I ever had in my whole life! He just smiled, and took my hand as we walked up the stairs.
We stopped outside his door, and he smiled again, as I did, and kissed me again. “Catch ya on the line, Slam,” he says in his dreamy voice as he opens the door. I was still blushing.
“Yeah, see ya Bent.” From my voice I could tell that I was in my own little world. He smiled again, and closed the door. I stood there for a minute more, then continued up stairs. I opened the door with a little hop in my step, and twirled inside. Dad laughed when he saw me.
“Oh happy day, what’s up with you?” He gives me a little grin, and I just give him an evil smile.
“Shut up in advance.”
“Never in advance.” I turn around hearing the voice, and see Kate standing there. I grin and am suddenly the happiest in my entire life.
“KATE!!! When did you get here?” I run up to her and give her a hug. She laughs.
“Just in time for me to see you dancing with my brother,” she whispers in my ear, and I blush again. Why was everyone making me blush? I smile, grab her arm, and drag her to my room, closing the door behind us. Cleat jumps up and slobbers all over her, barking happily. I push his muzzle playfully. I turn to Kate, still blushing.
“Now who told you I was dancing with Bent?” She laughs.
“I knew that wasn’t just anybody dancing with him! Your dad told me where you guys were, and I went down there to see. You guys are really hitting off, aren’t you?” I laugh. She laughs harder. “I knew this would happen! So perfect!”
“Shut up in advance, and don’t tell Dad, okay?” She nods.
“Don’t worry, ‘Slam.’ I won’t tell of your love life!” She laughs again. I still blush. “So how far did he get?” She cracked the code. I open up and tell her everything. By the time I was finishing up, she was rolling on the floor, and Dad was coming in with a DVD and popcorn.
“I'll leave these and let you ‘girl talk.’” He smiles his famous smile and closes the door. The DVD turned out to be “Sleepy Hollow,” our favorite! How could he forget? We stayed up late and she told me everything she’s been up to, and we finally crashed around 3 am, “Sleepy Hollow” still rolling.

Chapter Four:

Kate ended up staying for the rest of the summer, but had other friends from camp in the city, so she wasn’t around all the time, especially when I was with Bent. He comes up behind me one day at D’angelos puts a hand on my shoulder and scares me half to death. He says, voice full of laughter, “This seat taken, Miss Jumpy-Pants?” I laugh and yank his arm, pulling him into the seat beside me. I look back at the line for a minute then groan. Mikey Green was staring at me, smiling. He gave me a little wave, and I gave a weak smile, and then covered my face with my hands. Bent sees him and asks, “Who’s that?” I groan again.
“Mikey Green, all honors, 6th grader who’s totally diggin’ me,” I reply feebly. Bent laughs.
“Ah, some competition, eh?” He smiles down on me. I give him a questioning look.
“Wha-” I try to ask if that meant he liked me, but I didn’t have a chance before he leaned over and kissed me. I close my eyes and kissed him back, but jerk away when I heard a tray clatter on the floor. I turn my head to see Mikey running out the door. I groan. “Oh, no. Man, oh man, I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Bent looks a little hurt.
“You…you like him?” His eyes hold a hint of pain. I whip my head around to face him.
“Bent, I don’t like him, I don’t even know him. Bent, I gotta tell you something.” He just stands up and walks out of the place. “Bent,” I call after him. He just keeps walking. I stand up walk away from the table, go back, grab my lunch, and run after him. “BEN! WAIT UP BEN!” I used his real name, that should’ve got his attention. He turns around suddenly, hope draining from his face. I run up to him, throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He just keeps still, frozen with surprise. I pull away. “Ben, I don’t like Mike, I like you.” He smiles and kisses me.
“I like you too, Gabby, I really do,” he responds. We both smile, and hold hands the rest of the way home. I open my door and once again flit in, and Kate stands up from her chair at the kitchen table, and laughs. “What’s this I hear about kissing? Ri, have you?” He gives me a questioning yet stern gaze, and I groan.
“Yes, Dad, I’ve kissed a boy a couple times, what’s the big deal?”
“Do I even know this boy? Is he smart? Does he come from a good family? Does he take drugs? Does he-” I cut him off.
“It’s Bent, Dad, just Bent. You know me better,” I answered, a bit astonished. He goes beet red.
“Um, well, then that’s quite, uh, different. Who wants goulash?” He quickly starts to serve us, and Kate and I sort of giggle.
A few weeks later school started, and Bent and I had almost the exact same schedule, only different because he had Spanish and I had French. During the 2nd or 3rd week, the band and I skipped school in honor of my birthday.
I snuck around the corner and watched my dad leave for work and take the bus to the Towers. After that I snuck back into the apartment to call in sick. Around 8:45 am I got ready to go meet the crew at Times Square. I walked around a corner, but stopped as I heard a whirring noise. I turned to see an extremely low flying plane, heading straight for the Twin Towers.

Chapter Five:

All at once memories filled my eyes: fire works, the call, the house, the fire, my mother engulfed by flames, the hospital, and the tears. I was a little kid again, and this was my nightmare. I scream and scream, “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! NOT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Bent comes crashing around the corner, and stops dead, watching the explosion. He grabs me and tries to carry me out of harms way.
“COME ON, GAB, WE GOTTA GO!” His voice keeps ringing in my ear, shaking my brain, making me wonder. I rip out of his grip, and turn to face him.
“NO!!! I LOST MY MOTHER IN A FIRE, AND NOW I’M NOT GOING TO LET MY DAD GO ALONE! IF I’M GONNA LOSE HIM, THEN I’M GONNA LOSE MY LIFE!!!!!” I start running towards the flames and smoke, through the current of people flowing past me, so thick that I can barely get anywhere. Once again Bent grabs hold of me, but spins me around to face him.
“No. No, Gabby, no. I’ve never known who my family was, who I was for that matter. But now I do know who I am and a whole world more. I’m not going to lose you.” He kisses me and I melt at his touch. Once again he tries to pick me up, but I just run, holding his hand the whole way. I stop outside my open window.
“CLEAT!!!!! CLEAT!!!!! JUMP, BOY, JUMP!!!!!!” A dog howls and jumps. I run under him, catch the large collie, put him down, grab a rope off the ground and tie it around his collar, and run, using it as a leash. The three of us run, for who knows how long, until I finally collapse as the crowd is thinning. I can taste blood in the back of my throat from panting so hard, feet throbbing, hand raw from the rope rubbing against it. Bent drags me to my feet and we hurry to a pond far enough away from the terrorism. He holds me tight and we both cry, like when I was 7 and at the hospital with my dad. Cleat whimpers and lays his head on my knee.
I hear an earsplitting whoosh noise, and turn to see what it was. I see the flaming tops of the towers sink out of site, and the ground shakes, the streets filling with rubble. Bent grabs me and we dive under a little ledge, his body protecting mine. When everything stops, we get up.
Gone. My dad was gone. I cry and cry and cry the morning away. When I finally stop, there are police cars everywhere. The sun is hidden behind layers and layers of smoke and debris. We stand up, lost for words. Everyone around us screams, cries, or just stands there astonished as us. I turn and hug Bent, and just weep again and again. He strokes my hair as my father did when I was younger. There was no way to get to our apartments, so we spent the night under the stars.

Chapter Six:

My father’s body was one of the last ones found. I used the money to keep the apartment for band practice, even though I had already moved in with Bent and his dad. The band and I stayed together and even made a demo that almost got us in the big time, but we didn’t make it. We split up after High School, some going to college. Ben and I stayed together all through school, even went to the same Technology Institute.
Why am I telling you all this now? Because I’m seeing it go by me, flashing past my eyes, revealing itself again. I see my life before my eyes as I walk down this isle. Ya, I’m getting married; I’ll give you one guess to who. Yep, Ben. I now stand next to him, holding his large hand in mine, fingers so soft and warm. The priest stands before us, reading the words out of his book. Now it’s my turn to say the most dangerous words to any living soul.
“I do.”
My name is Gabriel “Slam” Sheryl Miller-McGavle, and this is my story. My story on how you can win and lose the Game of Life.

The End

Epilogue:

Gabriel went on to create the air guitar, really. The player puts on virtual reality gloves and a helmet. They see the guitar in their hands, and play the keys. The music blasts through speakers on the outside of the helmet. Her and her husband, Benjamin “Bent” McGavle, got married on July 4th, 2017. They had 2 children, Mitchell and Susan, twins. Ben invented the memory-imaging machine, the M.I.M. for short. The M.I.M. searches your brain and puts together memories and records it onto a video. Gabriel was the first to try it. They made copies of her story and put it in the library so that everyone could see how fortunate they are and many other lessons along with that.