Ghost Impressions

....

There was a time when it was good. You know, before it all went to shit and the sun didn't come up.

When I was 9, my mom told me she had cancer. When I was 10, she died.

That meant that the sun didn't come up again.

To this day I still remember what she told me to do before she died within those next days.

To this day I still remember what she told me to do before she couldn't speak anymore and was too tired & weak to move.

To this day my jealousy overcomes me when I remember that even my closest friends have moms that love them and I can't even remember my mom's voice.

I can't remember my own mother's fucking voice.

To this day I still am effected by the pity my brothers and I received when news broke out.

"I'm sorry for your loss."
"I don't know what I'd do without my loss."
"I'm sure she's in a better place."
"At least she isn't suffering."
"So much for just a kid."

Those stares given to me in the hallway and at my mother's previous work place, they weren't intentional, they didn't mean to make me filled with annoyed anger because everyone thought they knew how I felt.

"You're so brave."

I was told that so many times because I was the only one who didn't cry. Truth is: it just didn't hit me yet.

I didn't fully understand she was gone until I was 13 and was in a close knit friend group and I realized my jealousy of their moms still being there. That's when it hit me.

That's when I started to have breakdowns in the middle of the night I couldn't tell anyone about.

That's when I realized everything had gone hill and I was stuck, still tumbling because my dad can't get on his feet even after 4 years- but that's for another time.