Come On, Sweet Catastrophe

They say that a person is never the same after they lose someone. I don't exactly know who they are, or if they're even an individual or a group of people, but whoever they may be were right. I don't know that from experience per say. I had never actually lost anything other than a dwarf hamster named MC Hamster when I was far too young to even comprehend the mere concept of death. I had never literally had a person I knew personally die. Not in the way that meant their heart had stopped beating and they were currently six feet under the ground, with their flesh and bones slowly rotting and decomposing to dust. I had never had a person close to me ever gasp for air that last few times before the breath was taken from their lungs for the rest of eternity, but I had lost someone before. Sure, he wasn't actually dead, but to me, he was. To anybody else, he looked to be perfectly alive--But I knew better than that. This wasn't the man I knew at all, for he was merely a shell of the person he once was. All because death had taken two of the people he loved most away from him. He hadn't been the same since the last time he had saw them alive, nearly two years ago.

When I was younger, my Mother had started a Molly Maid service in town. My Father had been the man who believed that a wife should never have to work, because he took great pride in being the main source of income in our house. However, after the birth of my younger Brother, they realized that my Father couldn't afford to run the whole house with just his money alone. So my Mother, having no real experience in the working world or even high school diploma, decided that she would start a business with the only skill she really knew. She made a fair bit of income after the more financially fit couples in our neighborhood had realized they really liked the idea of paying someone else to pick up after them rather than doing it them self. By the time I was sixteen years old, my Mother had so many clients that she couldn't do this all on her own. Seeing as my little Brother was still too young, I was the only one left to help, so I did without complaints. My Mother always gave me a fair cut of the pay for each house that I helped with, and I suppose that was how I met him.

Him being Derek, that is. He was younger at the time; about twenty-one years of age or so. They were busy, and barely had time to even eat, let alone cook and clean. Sadie, the ridiculously gorgeous and kind wife, didn't like the idea of having another individual have to pick up after her, but she just couldn't live in the cluttered mess she did any longer. She had tried so many times to keep it clean, but it was just far too difficult. So, she hired me full-time, paying me a much greater price than even the richest clients we had, despite my objections. She always said that she could tell I would do great things one day, and she gave me so much money so that I could go to a good school and achieve those things. I cooked for them, cleaning for them and even babysat when Derek and Sadie weren't home. Throughout the two years I had worked there, I had really gotten to know Derek and Sadie and little baby Paige. They were such a perfect family. They were so happy and loved each other so much, that they made it look like I came from a broken home, which I certainly didn't. They were just that close.

But that all changed one day. I had come from school in the my twelfth grade year, just like I always did on Wednesdays, ready to clean whatever messes they had waiting for me. I had even taken a recipe for some kind of chicken out of a magazine to cook them for dinner, seeing as they often needed help with that too. But the second I had walked through the front door, I couldn't help but to notice the almost eery silence that had taken over. Usually, Paige would be shrieking happily from the carpeted floor of their living room, sitting on the fleece blanket surrounded by toys. Waiting for me. She was always waiting for me, because even though she was merely seven months old, she was smart enough to know when I came over. She always expected me. She wasn't there, though, and Sadie wasn't upstairs, singing out of key as she pulled the rollers out of her soft, sand-coloured hair. I called out for someone, but received no greeting in return, so I slipped my shoes off and ventured further into the home. I remember noticing Derek, sitting on the floor of his study with his legs brought up to his chest, and his thin arms wrapped around them, holding them in place. His chin was rested upon his knees, and his face was completely blank. I had moved closer to him, kneeling down in front of him and looking at his face. It was then when I realized that there were tears rolling down his face, dripping off of the end of his nose and his chin. He didn't reach up and wipe them away as he watched me move closer. He wasn't ashamed of these tears, like any other man would have been.

And then I asked what happened, and I really wish I didn't. I would have been perfectly happy without knowing that Sadie and Paige had left for a drive that afternoon, leaving Derek to make them lunch while he waited for them to come home, but they didn't. After hours of wondering where they had gone to, he had received a phone call from the police, informing him of a tragic car accident that had taken place that afternoon. At first, Derek didn't want to believe that his two beautiful girls were involved in it, he knew that no one would ever joke about something like that.

And so began his downward spiral. He had faced many, many bouts of depression since then--Some of them far worse than others. He had packed away all of their old things in boxes, stacking them in the basement and locking the door. He could barely stand to look at their pictures anymore, and had even gone as far as to get rid of furniture that reminded him far too much of the two of them. He had tried so hard to get rid of the past so that he could move on, but he hadn't gotten rid of his loyal housemaid. He wasn't busy anymore, like he used to be. His job had found a way to let him work at home, because they saw the way the accident had taken it's toll on him. I suppose I couldn't even call myself his maid anymore, considering the fact that most weeks, I didn't even remind him to pay me. I knew that if I didn't cook for him, he wouldn't eat. So, I was always there to cook him meals and make sure his fridge was stocked with fruits, vegetables and juices. I made sure I never bought him anything with alcohol, because he seemed to have a problem with drinking too excessively since Sadie and Paige had passed. But somehow, the substance always managed to find it's way into his house. It made me so sad to see him this way, considering the person he used to be. He wasn't at all the man I used to know, but for some reason, I still couldn't help but to love him. I knew he'd never feel the same, especially after looking at the women he was quite capable in getting the attention of, but i did. I had been ridiculously infatuated since the first time I had looked into his light, blue eyes. It was pathetic, I knew it was. But it's not like I could help it.