Ever Since You Walked Into My Life

I sat in the attic. Been up there since nearly nine in the morning. Early afternoon was rolling around by the time I found the energy to move. I’d been sipping strawberry wine, smoking my pack of cigarettes. Three days had passed since our mother’s passing. The funeral was just yesterday. I could still function, for the most part, without completely falling apart. I was still upset, still lost without her.

Sammi was doing well. Could be that she was still young; it didn’t phase her like it did an adult. But I didn’t mind. I’d rather Sammi get over death quickly, rather than be swaddled in it’s restricting arms like me. I fell a little deeper after our mother passed. Found a long lost depression in the dark gallows of my mind. I’ve been pressing on, trying to fight the sadness I thought I had escaped a few months back. But sometimes I’d waver.

I’d sat up in the attic for a few hours, contemplating certain things, thinking about my life before Dad passed away. I felt the occasional smile creep on, but for the most part I wore a frown. Shed a few tears. I was alone, for at least a few days. The kids were in school, Norman was down in Georgia shooting for the show. So as of right now, Arbor Mist and half a pack of Newports were my only ally. Sad to say.

I managed to pick up some strength about a half hour ago. Figured I could peek through our old memory box, weaken my walls a little further with the box of sadness. I set down my glass of wine, stubbed out my smoke and eventually peeled back the tattered flaps of the box. I combed through the belongings, stopped here and there on old concert tickets, pictures. But I came to a harsh halt when I picked up Mom’s necklace.

It was a four leaf clover, green died glass as soft as a newborn kitten. I held it in my fingers for a few moments, ran my thumb across the beautiful gem. It was her favourite when she was alive. I could feel my eyes grow warm with tears. My lips trembled slightly as I picked up my glass of wine. I sipped from it, eventually downed the last three quarters of the cup. I wasn’t as sad as I was when I started out up here. I was actually angry.

I couldn’t explain why. It could have been the over indulgence in wine I welcomed myself to by ten o’ clock, or that I was angry that my family was being picked off one by one. My two heroes in this world taken over sickness. I tossed my glass to the floor. Watched it shatter and bounce across the hardwood floors. I coiled my free fist tight, bound my fingers into my palm with such animosity. Guess we all grieve in our own way.

I wanted to yell at someone. Push them as hard as I could and blame them for our Mother’s leaving us. I thought I was beginning to lose it, especially when I started talking out loud. I don’t know who I was talking to. I could have been talking to God, talking to the Reaper himself. But all I know for damn sure was that the wine had something to do with it, “Why would you take her? She was such a beautiful person,”

I pawed at my eyes, sniveled back more tears. I leaned back on my knees, shook my head, “You were so cruel to her. Made her suffer. Was it worth it? Did you enjoy the show? First you take Dad, now Mom. What else do you want from me? Huh?”

I broke down then. Leaned into my hands and let it all out. I managed to put back all of our precious belongings into the box, except for the necklace. I wiped at my eyes, felt my tender skin scream at the contact. I wrapped my hair into a pony tail, clipped the necklace around my neck. I sighed quietly as I pushed the box back into the corner. I could hear the broken glass crinkling under it’s weight.

I blew a quiet raspberry, wiped my nose. I was acting a little ridiculous. I gently climbed to my feet and wiped up the broken glass at my side. I tossed it into the garbage before making my way to the kitchen area. I grabbed a bottle of water, made sure to drink a good amount. I rest my elbows on the counter for a moment, tried to pick up my mood just a little bit. I took the next hour to shower, eat, watch a show and eventually go pick up Sammi and Mingus from school.

I wore a smile as they climbed into the car, tried to pretend I was doing okay so Sammi wouldn’t get upset. She gave me a quick double look as she climbed into the backseat of the pickup, but she never said a word. Sammi was very smart for her age, but I guess the smart move in this case was to leave me be, rather than ask twenty questions. When we arrived back at the house, the kids automatically went to their rooms to play or watch tv.

I was left alone to make dinner for the three of us. Half way through making dinner, I spotted Sammi coming around the corner from my peripheral. She rocked back and forth slightly on her heels, cupped her hands gently in front of her waist. I looked over with a smile, “What’s up, Sam?”

“Um,” she stopped rocking, let her eyes wander for a brief moment, “are you okay, Rascal? You seem really sad anymore,”

I turned the flame down so the burgers wouldn’t burn and turned around to face my sister. I knelt in front of her, took her hands in my own. I sighed quietly, debated on what I should actually tell her. When I looked up, however, her expression was more than upset. I frowned, whispered, “Sammi, what’s the matter?”

“You’re so sad,” she shook her head, sniveled slightly, “and I don’t want you to be sad anymore. I miss Mommy too, Rascal, but I’m okay. I don’t like it when you’re sad,”

“Yeah,” I smiled just slightly, “I don’t either, sweetheart. I’m just,”

I cleared my throat for a second. I didn’t want to upset Sammi, but she was surely upsetting me with that hopeless look in her eyes. I squeezed her hands tightly and said, “I’m just dealing with it in my own way. But, you know what would make me happy right now?”

“What?” She asked.

“If you could help me make dinner,” I smiled, “and maybe later tonight we’ll all bake some cookies together. How does that sound?”

Sammi sucked in her bottom lip, thought for a couple of seconds. She looked down at me and with a sly smile, said, “Only if you promise not to be sad anymore,”

“Promise,” I replied.

“Okay,” Sammi grinned wildly.

I climbed to my feet and with help from my little sister, managed to finish dinner in no time. The idea of baking cookies had gone out the window rather quickly, however, because once the kids were done eating, they nearly passed out watching tv in the living room. I chuckled quietly when I peeked in on them from the kitchen. I was cleaning up the mess of dinner to the best of my ability. When I shoved the last dish into the dishwasher, I made way for the living room.

I woke the Sammi and Mingus, but only Mingus had gotten up to go to bed. I gently shoved Sammi’s shoulder, but after countless minutes of mumbling and shifting, I gave up. I pulled her into my arms with a quiet grunt, “You’re getting a little heavy for this, Sam,”

“I know,” she mumbled.

I laughed quietly as I carried her to the bedroom. I lied her in bed, folded her blanket over her for the night. I leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the cheek, brushed some hair from her eyes, “Love you Sam,”

I flicked off the light as I left. Right before I went into the living room, I stopped. I looked at the sheet hanging above the painting Norman so desperately didn’t want me peeking at. I felt a sad smile creep onto my lips as I thought about him. I wanted so desperately to make him go out to shoot for his show. He was so adamant on staying after Mom died, but over all I won. It was his job. He couldn’t stop everything for Sammi and I.

I gently plucked at the sheet with my fingers, but I never revealed what was underneath. I wanted to know what his creation was, but I left it for him to show me when he was ready. In the meantime, however, I went into the living room and put the Dawn of The Dead remake into the tv. We never did finish our zombie-thon. I only made it twenty minutes in before the phone was ringing.

I picked up after a couple rings, excited to hear Norman’s voice on the other end. We spoke for a few minutes, but even though he wasn’t here in person, he could sense the slight grief in my tone. He tried to play, but it never really worked, “You didn’t peek under the sheet, did you?”

“No,” I replied.

“I don’t believe you,” I could picture the playful smile on his face.

The way it reached his eyes when he played. But as quick as I had seen it, it was gone. When he realized his playful tone didn’t phase me, he asked, “You seem a little down. You alright?”

“Yeah,” my voice shook slightly, but I quickly cleared my throat, “I’m doing as good as I can in this situation, you know?”

“I should have stayed,” he sighed.

“Norman, you can’t drop really important things like this for me,” I argued, “I’m doing fine, really,”

“I don’t care what other shit I have to do, Rascal,” Norman said, “If you need me, you come first. Fuck everyone else,”

I stopped for a moment, felt a smile slowly creep onto my lips. I chuckled quietly, “Alright, you win,”

“Finally,” he laughed, “but I have some good news. I’m gonna be home sooner than I thought. We wrapped up pretty quick. I’ll be back in two days,”

“Good,” I said, “I really miss you,”

“I miss you too, Rascal,” he sighed softly, “but I gotta go. My break’s over. Tell the kids I love’m, miss’m, all that jazz. And Rascal, I love and miss you too,”

“Love and miss you too, Norman,” We hung up and I curled up into the couch.

I looked back at the tv and sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees. The zombie-thon wasn’t really the same without him. He wasn’t here to poke at me and joke around when I got scared. I huffed quietly and leaned back into the couch. I could say I missed Norman more than normal, because at the moment, all I could go for was to be laying back into his arms. If he didn’t get home soon, I might just break.