Empty Apartment

School went ‘OK’; I was able to compose myself before I reached the bus stop.
If anybody asked, it was ‘allergies’.

There was a test in history today, I hadn’t had the chance to study- but I was hoping that my attendance and vague memory of prior homework assignments would pay off in the long run.
I wasn’t a genius, but I did pride myself on my grades and my ability to keep them- even if I had to allot a little more time with my nose buried in the books.

I always wondered, if Lorraine were still here if she would have to spend nearly as much time in her studies as I did.
Perhaps it is my young and naïve mind speaking- but Lorraine always seemed to have all of the answers. She was always correcting me, “You’re saying it wrong, Shae” and “Eated isn’t a word.” For the longest time I was convinced she was just a ‘big meanie head’. But of course looking back on it now, I realize she was only trying to help me.
I wondered too, if she would have played for the school soccer team. She had a real knack for the game. After a stint of peewee soccer in the fall, she earned her first trophy. I remember the day she had brought it home after the end of the season pizza party. I asked her if I could see it, she said “no.” I think she had thought that I would break it; and I did. I was jealous that she had gotten so much praise for winning that trophy, and later that day when she was in the bath I went into her bedroom. Mom had put it up on top of the dresser where it would be safe and out of harms way. But, my bitterness and determination got the better of me. I found a small step stool near the play vanity on the opposite wall. I know now that it wasn’t one of my finer moments, but while I had managed to carefully persuade the trophy into my grasp- I hadn’t taken the time to secure proper footing.
I wont forget that day, it was the day I prematurely knocked out three of my baby teeth, permanently stained the lavender carpet that my father had argued “wasn’t even a year old, yet”; but most importantly, I had managed to snap the metallic soccer figurine clean off its base. It was one of the very few times that I can remember Lorraine looking so heartbroken.
Of course, Dad ran to the hardware store to pick up some super glue while my mom did her best to handle the chaos at home.

My Dad was able to fix the trophy, and it was then placed on a wall-mounted shelf high and out of reach.
I think what really stuck with me about that trophy, was the way I felt about it and the way it made me feel about Lorraine. I was bitter, although one could argue I didn’t really know any better. But it was ironic that I was so desperate for the praise and attention associated with that trophy. Because a year later, Lorraine would pass away- and the competition for my parent’s attention would die with her.
Or had it?

Even though Lorraine was not physically capable of pining for my parent’s affections, in her death I was still competing for their attention.

When I got home today from school, I went upstairs to Lorraine’s bedroom. I had grown taller since the last time I had been in there. But just as my height had grown, so had my bitterness. I removed the soccer trophy from atop its perch, where it had continued to sit for over ten years, and I threw it against the wall, hard.