Life of Rain
I
I awoke in tears. They streamed down my face like slow waterfalls, interrupted by my sobs. I breathed hard, my heart thudding against my ribcage. My hands shook, like that of an elderly woman. I wheezed desperately trying to calm myself down. The scenes shot through my head in slow motion. I was distracted at the wheel, my car slipped, it rolled. My baby sister, dead. The ambulance reaching us, and telling me she didn’t make it.
I had been tormented with these dreams ever since the day it happened. My parents hadn’t looked at me the same, though they said they forgave me. I took their daughter. I checked the clock on my wall. It read five o’clock. I took a few deep breathes and turned on the shower, allowing the scorching water to pound my muscles.
I dressed again, in slacks and a t-shirt. I sat on my bed, the sheets molding around me and pulled out my laptop. I typed “Veterinarian courses” into Google. The first option was at a college near me. Pre-veterinary at the University of Maine. I added the page to my favorites. I put my computer to sleep and slugged to the kitchen. My parents sat silently around the table.
A stack of pancakes sat on the kitchen island. The sink was full of dirty dishes, the floor unmopped and the food in the fridge moldy. No one did much anymore. I dipped up a pancake, and drowned it in syrup. I pulled back a wooden chair at the table and sat.
Across at the head of the table sat my mother, Yvette. Her hair was in a mangles ponytail, her eyes sunken into her skull. Her grief more than visible on her pre-maturely aged face. My father sat adjacent to me, his hair slicked back, his head staring down at his plate of bacon.
“Morning Rain.” My mom mumbled.
“Morning Mom.”
I stabbed at the breakfast classic with my silverware, looking wearily at my grim-faced parents. Only two weeks ago it happened, it hadn’t left any of our minds. I know they blamed me. It was my fault.
“I uhm, looked at some colleges.”
“Yeah?” My mom tried her hardest to sound enthusiastic.
“I was looking at the University of Maine.”
“What would your major be?”
“Pre-Veterinary.”
Both of my parents sat still.
“Why that Rain?”
“It’s what Johanna would have done. It’s only fair I live for her.”
“Excuse me.” My dad said, evacuating the area, my mother watched him with sallow eyes.
“I’ll go check on your father. Sorry Rain.”
I dumped my pancake in the trash, staring at the framed picture of Johanna, dropping my plate and touching her sweet face through the thin glass, her bright smile, I had taken it away.
“I’m so sorry my sweet sister. I will live for you. I love you Johanna.” A tear rolled down my cheek.
I had been tormented with these dreams ever since the day it happened. My parents hadn’t looked at me the same, though they said they forgave me. I took their daughter. I checked the clock on my wall. It read five o’clock. I took a few deep breathes and turned on the shower, allowing the scorching water to pound my muscles.
I dressed again, in slacks and a t-shirt. I sat on my bed, the sheets molding around me and pulled out my laptop. I typed “Veterinarian courses” into Google. The first option was at a college near me. Pre-veterinary at the University of Maine. I added the page to my favorites. I put my computer to sleep and slugged to the kitchen. My parents sat silently around the table.
A stack of pancakes sat on the kitchen island. The sink was full of dirty dishes, the floor unmopped and the food in the fridge moldy. No one did much anymore. I dipped up a pancake, and drowned it in syrup. I pulled back a wooden chair at the table and sat.
Across at the head of the table sat my mother, Yvette. Her hair was in a mangles ponytail, her eyes sunken into her skull. Her grief more than visible on her pre-maturely aged face. My father sat adjacent to me, his hair slicked back, his head staring down at his plate of bacon.
“Morning Rain.” My mom mumbled.
“Morning Mom.”
I stabbed at the breakfast classic with my silverware, looking wearily at my grim-faced parents. Only two weeks ago it happened, it hadn’t left any of our minds. I know they blamed me. It was my fault.
“I uhm, looked at some colleges.”
“Yeah?” My mom tried her hardest to sound enthusiastic.
“I was looking at the University of Maine.”
“What would your major be?”
“Pre-Veterinary.”
Both of my parents sat still.
“Why that Rain?”
“It’s what Johanna would have done. It’s only fair I live for her.”
“Excuse me.” My dad said, evacuating the area, my mother watched him with sallow eyes.
“I’ll go check on your father. Sorry Rain.”
I dumped my pancake in the trash, staring at the framed picture of Johanna, dropping my plate and touching her sweet face through the thin glass, her bright smile, I had taken it away.
“I’m so sorry my sweet sister. I will live for you. I love you Johanna.” A tear rolled down my cheek.