Losing To Family

I just stare. My day is full of tears and sleeping and more tears. I don’t eat; I have no taste for it. The world spins and the seasons change, but I don’t change. I haven’t been outside in weeks. I don’t even know day it is. If it wasn’t for the clock I have, I wouldn’t know the time. 7:30a.m it reads, but it feels like it’s noon. I go over to my window to shut the blinds, like I do to the rest of my house, except for one room. It’s just the way I left it, waiting for Her to return to me. The window has old paneling, the paint is chipping, the window is broken, cracks all over it, blood smeared on it. I blink my eyes and all it is red paint. I remember that day.
It was July; I know this because She used to talk about how July was her favorite month because it is the month before school. She loved school and she loved the feeling she got when She knew school was coming. The sun was gold and beautiful. The grass was bright green and the wind carried the scent of honey. Her eyes matched the Kool-Aid in Her hands, bright blue and transparent. That’s what was crazy about her; when she was mad, She always said she was okay, but all you had to do was look at her eyes and they would tell you the truth. Her hair was a golden brown color and her bandana was purple, her favorite color. We were re-painting her room because she didn’t like the pink color anymore. It was a dark pink, but not quite red yet. You could barely see it because she had a million posters and drawings of random things around her room.
We started to “randomize”- as she called it- my room to show what I liked so if a boy ever came over and Momma didn’t scare him away, we would skip the whole question “What do you like?” and talk about what they like. Now they’re both gone. Momma’s in jail and she is gone. I cry every night because I miss her so much.
I don’t get out and I don’t eat that much anymore. Some of my friends come by to see if I’ll come out with them, but I don’t answer the doors and they don’t want to face “my wrath” by trying to come in. One of my friends, Leila, wouldn’t give up and she came by the house every week to get me outside. She stopped coming a while ago because I yelled at her because she was trying to scrub the paint off the windows and walls. I forgot I gave her a key and I came downstairs to wait for her to come because she came at the same time every day and I saw what she was doing. I pushed her away and I just sat on the floor crying. I didn’t tell her I was sorry or anything. I ordered more red paint online and tried to fix what she did. I feel really bad about pushing her, because I know that she didn’t deserve it even if she’s trying to kill my memories of her. I try calling her but she doesn’t answer.
She calls me today and tells me that she’ll come by and that she’s sorry about trying to erase the paint. I say I’m sorry to and that I shouldn’t have pushed her. “You can make it up to me by going out for lunch with me.” She starts to laugh playfully. My throat tenses up because I know what that will mean; it will mean having to face the life I’m trying to forget. I take a deep breath and think about it. I don’t want to face the outside world yet, because then it will mean that She is really gone and Momma is in jail. I have to face it sometime though and I owe Leila for trying to be there for me and being my friend and staying with me after the…I can’t even say it. I tell her I will meet her at our favorite place to eat, The Chongas. I don’t know how to say it, so we just call it “Our Spot.”. I tell her I’ll see her at three and she sounds really happy when we say goodbye. I just sit there in silence, not wanting to move because I don’t want to leave the house.
I head up stairs and into my bedroom and I start going through my clothes looking for something to wear. I find a pair of jeans and a bright blue shirt that has a transparent bottom piece to it. I try to smile, but tears come instead. My vision starts to get blurry as I look in the mirror. I take a deep long breath and shut my eyes to push the tears back.
I open my eyes and look in the mirror. I see a girl who is afraid and fragile and her hair is crazy. The copper tones in the hair mix with the dark red. The eyes match the tone of the skin; pale, weak, and cold. The lips are dry and wrinkled. I shut my eyes again and comb my hair, thinking back when Momma used to brush my hair and how She would sit right next to me and tell me and Momma stories. I open my eyes. My hair is it’s naturally straight self again and my eyes are filled with tears because I see what she saw every time she looked at herself in the mirror. I look away and go to my closet to find a pair of shoes. I reach for Her sneakers and put them on. They are old converse that she used to wear all the time. They are blue and pink because the colors reminded her of cotton candy, her favorite. I go into Momma’s jewelry box and pull out the necklace that she wore every day. I reach for my rings and make-up. I but on some blush to hide the redness from me crying. I wipe away my tears and put mascara on.
I head for the door, but when I reach the doorknob I can’t open it. I just stare at it like if I touch it, it will bite or something. I slowly put my hands on it and turn it slowly. I open the door and there everything is. The trees, the sun, the kids playing everywhere. I start walking, closing the door behind me and locking it. The grass is like 10 feet tall. I haven’t been outside in a long time and haven’t done anything with the yard. The grass is still green but the trees are dead and the plants that I and Momma gardened a while ago are brown and black. The fence is a metal rusty fence that needed to be replaced about 10 years ago. Momma said that if it’s not collapsing over, it doesn’t need to be fixed. I walk to the gate and open the rusty fence. I take a step on the sidewalk and I look down at my shoes. I walk this way until I reach where the sidewalk ends and I look up. I am at the end of the street and a new one begins on the left of me. I call Leila and tell her that I need her to come get me because I can’t walk down that street. It’s where it happened. Where I lost the two most important people I loved in my life. “Can you come get me, please? I’m at the end of my street and I can’t go down that other street, it’s just too hard to think about, let alone walk through.” She says that she figured this would happen so she’s at my house and on her way to get me. She thought I wouldn’t make it through the door. I was confused when she said that she was at my house, but didn’t bring it up because I was too busy trying to think about something else.
I take a seat on the curb and wait for her to show up. A few minutes go by and her black SUV comes up. She gets out and hugs me. She’s about my height, which is not very tall. She has long black hair and it reaches her lower back. She hates how long it is, but she won’t cut it. She has dark brown eyes and she knows how to use them. She’s a psychiatrist and she knows not to try any of that psycho-babble on me because I know her mother. I get in the back of the car because when I was I was younger, I would draw whatever came to mind, no matter where we were and it makes me feel safe when I’m not at home. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds that are around me. I picture Her beside me.
We reach the place and Leila gets out of the car first. I open my eyes and take a deep breath and slowly open the door of her SUV. Leila is waiting for me at the door. I walk to her and she opens the door. I pull out my wallet to see how much money I have and I drop it. I pick it up and when I look at the restaurant, I see everyone I’ve ever known or have ever known Her. I look around and they are wearing T-shirts with her picture on them. I look at Leila who has a gentle smile on her face. “We thought that you should grieve with everyone. It’s okay to feel lost and hurt, but we can help you. Let us help you.” I look at her and I look at all the people who are here. She brought me to a stupid intervention with people who don’t know anything. My throat clenches up and tears come to my eyes. I sink to the floor and I start to cry. People just stand there and watch me but I don’t care; they should know how bad I have been hurting and then see what they can do to help me. “How can you help me, huh?! I’ve lost the two most important people in my life and you can help me?! Don’t! I don’t need it. You don’t need me to make yourselves feel better and I don’t need you to help me. I’ll be fine.” Everyone’s face turns to shock and then hurt. I turn and run out the restaurant and keep running until I’m home. But where is that at?
It takes me about an hour to get home because I stop at every corner and just stare into the street until a car honks or a person yells at me to move. When I reach the house, I get my keys out and open the door. For a minute the house feels different. I run to my room and start to panic. My heart is racing. I open my door and on the stand next my clock is a picture of Her and me with Momma. I pick up the picture and just stare at it. How could Leila have done all this knowing that I would be pissed as hell for her messing with my room and house? Then I think about Her room and I drop the picture and run to her room and immediately stop in the doorway. Her room is gone. It’s not the same. It smells different. It doesn’t smell like Her anymore and her stuff is gone. No. Why? How could she do this to me? I sink to the floor and just sit there and cry. I just stare at the room and cry.
A few seconds later I hear a knock on the door followed by “J, are you here?” Leila has come to do more damage probably. I sit in silence and hear the door open downstairs. Leila moves up the stairs and sees me on the floor. She runs to me and asks what happened. “You took her away from me. You killed her. Why did you do this? No one asked you to! I can’t remember what it looks like. I-I can’t breathe I can’t breathe. What did you do?? Why??” I start to hyperventilate and she put her arms around me and puts her head on my head. “I thought it would ease the pain. You wouldn’t have to feel so sad about her not being here anymore. I’m sorry. I thought you should try to move on,” when she says this, I push her away and run to my room and slam the door. “Just go away. You’ve done enough damage and bring back Her stuff.” I slide down to the ground and pick up the picture of Momma, me, and Her. I put it on my chest and I close my eyes. I hear the door slam followed by a car engine. I get up and move to my bed. I lay down, the picture still at my heart and I close my eyes. I try to remember anything about her and I can’t. I feel like I’ve lost her for good. How could Leila do this to me?
I wake up and look at the clock. It reads 10:00p.m. I get up and go down to the kitchen. I reach for a glass and I pull out a blue glass with a flower lining on the top and bottom of it. I stare at it and I take a deep breathe because Momma and Her made it for my 15th birthday. I close my eyes for a minute, the cup still in my hand. I turn on the faucet and pour the water in the cup. I hold it to my lips and drink it. It tastes so good. I remember how good food and water tastes. I hear my stomach growl and open the fridge. There is nothing because I haven’t been to the store lately. I walk up the stairs to my room and I pick some sweats and a jacket to wear to go get some food. I take off my clothes I wore earlier, wanting to burn hem so bad. I put the new ones on. I put the sneakers back on and head for the door. I get my iPod, keys, and wallet off the dresser as I’m leaving my room. I shut the door behind me.
I walk to the nearest restaurant, which is only about ten minutes away. It’s where Momma, her, and I would always eat at. It has the best pie I have ever tasted and I’ve tasted a lot of pies. I put my earphones in and I turn to Her favorite songs. I know every word to the song because of Her. When she liked a song so much, she would listen to that song non-stop. That was all I would hear from her room. It was worse when she loved an artist. She would listen to them for months. She always got me liking them. I put my hood up and smile. Momma would always get annoyed with her because she turned her music on full—blast so “the people on the moon could hear our wonderful music.” That was always her reply, except when Momma started to get angry. I reach the restaurant in a few minutes. It’s more like a diner and the people who works there are really nice. They all know me and they loved her because she was that type of person who made the suckiest day the best day of their lives. I never had that quality. I was the sarcastic one who would make mean comments and make people’s day worse. But she brought out the good in me; I wanted to set an example for her. I smile at the thought. Who do I set an example for now? I open the door.
I sit at the booth to my left that is closest to the door. That was our favorite spot to eat at. We saw everyone and everything from there. We used to guess at what people were thinking about when they came in. We would guess people’s ages when they walked past the diner. I sit down and look at the table. We wrote our name in the table when we first ate there. Our names weren’t the only ones on there anymore. Hundreds of names and a bunch or R.I.P’s signs everywhere. I move to another table because I can’t bear the thought to think like that. No one knew her like I do, so why should they get to tell her to Rest In Peace?
“What can I get for you, missy?” I look up and this boy is staring at me, waiting for me to answer. He’s tall, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He gives a genuine smile and looks at me patiently, trying to hold back a laugh.
“Pie. I want pie. Why are you smiling?” I look at him likes he’s crazy and I watch him write down my order.
“You do know that your hair is like standing up and you have that whole Goth thing going on, right?”
I pull my hood up over my hair and I give him a dirty look. “I just woke up and I’m not Goth. The kind of pie I would like though is apple pie. And can you bring two plates out?”
He mumbles something under his breath and goes to the kitchen. I put my earphones back in and listen to one of her songs again. I wait for my pie and my two plates.
The boy comes out with a smile on his face and over to me. “Here’s your pie and plates. Anything else?” I take my earphones out and shake my head. I cut the pie in half and put half on my plate, the other half on the other plate. I slide the other to plate across from me. I start eating mine. I close my eyes and imagine that she is here with me and that we are eating it together. I open my eyes to readjust my earphones and turn the song up and find the boy sitting in the seat across from me, staring at me.
“Can I help you?” I say, kind of bitterly. I take out my earphones, knowing I won’t get any peace from him. He shakes his head and just looks at me. “Is this pie for, me?” He smiles and begins to pick up a fork and try to put the fork near the pie.
I grab the plate and slide it toward me. “No, it’s not for you, it’s for someone else.” I give him a smile and give him a look to go do something that doesn’t involve me, but he just sits there and smiles back.
“Your feisty and mean, you know that?” he gets up with the smile still on his face and heads back to the kitchen. I slide the pie over to the other side again and begin eating my pie. I don’t put my earphones in again, what’s the point? When I finish eating the pie, I wait for the boy to return to my table to give me my receipt. I slide the plates to the side of the table. The boy comes over and gives me my check.
“Thanks for taking your time, really appreciate it.” I give him a sarcastic smile and I get up from my seat as he takes my plates. “Glad to have customer satisfaction.” He says back sarcastically. I give him another dirty look, but he doesn’t see it. I head for the cash register and I turn around to pull out my wallet. I turn back around and the boy is in front of me holding out his hand, waiting for me to give him the receipt. I slap it into hand and smile.
He keys the order. “Ten dollars and fifty cents.” He smiles and I go into my wallet and pull out a twenty. He gives me my change and I head for the door.
“Hey, wait up!” He shouts. I turn around and he gives me my receipt back. “See ya around.”
“Probably not.” I reply and push through the door.
I put the receipt in my jacket. I turn my music back on and put my earphones back in. I close my eyes and walk. When I reach, my house, I take my keys out of my jacket and open the door. I head to my room to put my wallet and stuff away. I take my clothes off and look in the mirror before putting my pajamas on. I look so much like her. I fight back my tears and put my pajamas on. I pull the covers over my head and close my eyes. I lay there and think about Momma and Her.