Life of Rain
II
Johanna was nine years old when she was taken out of this world. She was a long dark-haired smiley little girl on her way to soccer. I hadn’t wanted to take her, but my parents insisted I do. I had made sure she was buckled, but that didn’t end up helping.
I stared at my ceiling the blank canvas assisting me in finding the clarity I needed. Ever since the accident I’d been lost, just the same as my parents had been lost. There was this hole in my life, where once a delightful little girl sang. She didn’t patter around the house anymore, she didn’t beg to get a dog anymore, and she didn’t wake me up on Christmas morning so I could wake mom and dad anymore.
We now had only half a life. Guilt lay on my chest, every minute of every day. I took a break from high school, as the principal recommended. No penalties, I’ll catch up my last few credits in June. My family and I sat in silence at the dinner table, with the empty chair.
We had new rituals now, every morning I walked down the street to the graveyard and talked to Johanna head stone sometimes leaving flowers. And once I got back, Mom and Dad went. They took it the hardest. Every once in a while they start to feel bad and remind me they don’t blame me. But I know they do, who else is there to blame?
I hadn’t left the house since the accident except to the flower market and graveyard. I sat up. I walked out of my room. Staring blindly at the door across from mine. A pink wooden sign hung on the door “Johanna Darling”.
I braced myself, and wrapped my hand around the doorknob. I pushed it open. The room was pink princess themed. A canopy bed with pink sheets sat lonely in the middle of the room. Besides it a white dresser. I sat on her bed. Looking at the pictures on her dresser, of her, of me, of us, of our family. There was one picture I really loved, from about a week before the accident. We were at the park and I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek while she looked at mom’s camera.
I felt sobs coming, and tears right behind them. I wiped them away though they kept coming. I tried to locate the picture I was looking for. In a frame in the back was the notorious puppy picture. Johanna had always wanted a puppy, and she found a picture of one in a magazine she wanted. She cut it out and put it in a frame. I picked up the frame with the little brown dog and left, my eyes red and stinging.
I walked past my car, ruined and jogged to the shops. I went in the kennel and handed the lady the frame.
“A yorkie?” She asked, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear.
“If that’s what that is, I’d like one please.”
“I’ll be right back.” She handed me back the frame.
After a moment she came out with a little baby puppy like the one in Johanna’s picture. A little shaggy brown dog. The employee handed me the pup and I smiled, it looked at my with its big eyes and wagged its tail.
“It’s a little boy. What do you want to name him?”
Johanna always talked about a name; I dug into my mind to remember it. “Goliath.”
“Alright miss, the bill will come to your house.”
I stared at my ceiling the blank canvas assisting me in finding the clarity I needed. Ever since the accident I’d been lost, just the same as my parents had been lost. There was this hole in my life, where once a delightful little girl sang. She didn’t patter around the house anymore, she didn’t beg to get a dog anymore, and she didn’t wake me up on Christmas morning so I could wake mom and dad anymore.
We now had only half a life. Guilt lay on my chest, every minute of every day. I took a break from high school, as the principal recommended. No penalties, I’ll catch up my last few credits in June. My family and I sat in silence at the dinner table, with the empty chair.
We had new rituals now, every morning I walked down the street to the graveyard and talked to Johanna head stone sometimes leaving flowers. And once I got back, Mom and Dad went. They took it the hardest. Every once in a while they start to feel bad and remind me they don’t blame me. But I know they do, who else is there to blame?
I hadn’t left the house since the accident except to the flower market and graveyard. I sat up. I walked out of my room. Staring blindly at the door across from mine. A pink wooden sign hung on the door “Johanna Darling”.
I braced myself, and wrapped my hand around the doorknob. I pushed it open. The room was pink princess themed. A canopy bed with pink sheets sat lonely in the middle of the room. Besides it a white dresser. I sat on her bed. Looking at the pictures on her dresser, of her, of me, of us, of our family. There was one picture I really loved, from about a week before the accident. We were at the park and I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek while she looked at mom’s camera.
I felt sobs coming, and tears right behind them. I wiped them away though they kept coming. I tried to locate the picture I was looking for. In a frame in the back was the notorious puppy picture. Johanna had always wanted a puppy, and she found a picture of one in a magazine she wanted. She cut it out and put it in a frame. I picked up the frame with the little brown dog and left, my eyes red and stinging.
I walked past my car, ruined and jogged to the shops. I went in the kennel and handed the lady the frame.
“A yorkie?” She asked, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear.
“If that’s what that is, I’d like one please.”
“I’ll be right back.” She handed me back the frame.
After a moment she came out with a little baby puppy like the one in Johanna’s picture. A little shaggy brown dog. The employee handed me the pup and I smiled, it looked at my with its big eyes and wagged its tail.
“It’s a little boy. What do you want to name him?”
Johanna always talked about a name; I dug into my mind to remember it. “Goliath.”
“Alright miss, the bill will come to your house.”