Status: Please don't tell me how predictable or corny it is, i already know.
Losing To Family
Memories
It was October and we were painting the house red because Momma wanted to scare our neighbors into thinking she killed us. Momma didn’t like the neighbors very much because they didn’t like us. We picked out costumes we were gonna wear, so when they came to check on us, it would look like she actually killed us. I went with a bullet in the heart and She went with a knife in the back. Her costume made me laugh because she hated backstabbers and here she was getting stabbed in the back by her mother. We made a slash of paint on the windows and doors to make it look like we were running. We ran our “bloody” fingers across the hallway that lead to our bedrooms to make it look like we were trying to hide from her. Momma thought it would be fun to pull the prank on them, but boy was she wrong. Some neighbor got hurt during the prank because she and I scared the neighbor into running and she fell down some stairs. Momma didn’t get arrested, but she got a warning and a huge fine.
I laugh so hard remembering this and then I think of another time. We were playing in the snow. It was December or November, I can’t remember which one. She was about 6 and I was 12. We made snow angels and listened to music. There was a knock on our front door and Momma’s face turns from joy to dead cold so fast. She gets a worried and scared look on her face and tell us to play hide and seek and don’t come out until she finds us. She gives us a smile like she is playing, but we both know something is wrong with Momma. I take Her and we go into my room. I still wonder what happened that day. I shut my eyes and cry myself to sleep, what I do every night since what happened on that street.
I stare at the clock. It’s noon. Momma would’ve had a fit if she was here right now. No one ever sleeps past 7 a.m. in this house. But she’s not here. Hasn’t been here forever, it seems like.
I laugh so hard remembering this and then I think of another time. We were playing in the snow. It was December or November, I can’t remember which one. She was about 6 and I was 12. We made snow angels and listened to music. There was a knock on our front door and Momma’s face turns from joy to dead cold so fast. She gets a worried and scared look on her face and tell us to play hide and seek and don’t come out until she finds us. She gives us a smile like she is playing, but we both know something is wrong with Momma. I take Her and we go into my room. I still wonder what happened that day. I shut my eyes and cry myself to sleep, what I do every night since what happened on that street.
I stare at the clock. It’s noon. Momma would’ve had a fit if she was here right now. No one ever sleeps past 7 a.m. in this house. But she’s not here. Hasn’t been here forever, it seems like.