Discovering Reality

Chapter 9: The Misery, the Questions, and the Face

Hello Everyone! I hope everyone had a good break! I'm not sure if i'll upload more than 2 or 3 times a week now. Maybe less because school is starting, and my high school gives soooo much homework. But I will upload whenever i have time, I promise! :) 

Anyways, i hope you like this chapter! :D

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Chapter 9:

            I felt dizzy and completely worn out after crying. I decided I would just go home because I’d already missed first and second period. I didn’t want to be ridiculed all day either. I’d deal with all of that tomorrow.

I walked down the sidewalk with my head held down. It seemed like everything was crumbling beneath me. The reality of my parents death hit me. This was probably the first time I needed the comfort and warmth of my fathers’ arms. I needed the sweet words of my mother telling me that the other kids didn’t matter….That they’d always love me and be there.

I entered our house tired and in need of a good rest. I entered my light blue room and picked up a chest in my closet. I grabbed a box of tissues and leaned next to my bed. I opened the chest and was flooded with memories.

I felt like I was the old me again. Pictures of my dear parents entered my vision. Seeing their clear faces brought back the reality of their death and reminded me of their bodies in the crash.

I reached my favorite picture. I was of my whole family during Thanksgiving. We were staying in a cabin with our other friends, and a smile lay on all of our faces. My daddy laid his arm across my mother’s shoulders. There was love in all of our eyes.

Seeing this picture reminded of how much I had lost and gained in the last few years.

When I found out what happened to my parents, I thought that life couldn’t go on. Everywhere I would look and everything I would see reminded me of them. At first, I shut out the world. I would forget for a few minutes if I was distracted, but seconds later, I would remember. I couldn’t believe what happened every time I remembered again.

People started to treat me differently. They paid to much attention to me and were too sweet to me. I knew it was because I was left with no parents, but I didn’t want to be treated differently. They only cared because my parents were gone, but people didn’t care that much before, and that’s what hurt me.

I didn’t want sympathy. I didn’t hugs and kisses. I didn’t want fake promises. I didn’t want to talk to others about something they didn’t understand.

I wanted my parents.

But no amount of tears would bring them back, so I slowly moved on for them.

Nowadays, I always talk to them. I know somehow they’ll hear me, but right now, talking to them didn’t seem like enough.

I wanted my mom to smooth down my hair and rub my back. I wanted her to coo soothing things to me. I wanted to sit in my father’s lap and hold his tough, warm hand.

I wanted to be able to complain about them. I wanted to kiss me goodnight, and I wanted them to be there when I graduate.

I wanted them to embarrass me in front of my friends. I wanted my mom to say those crazy wise things about life.

I wanted to walk downstairs every morning to see them making breakfast laughing.

I wanted them back.

But, it doesn’t matter what I want. It’s too late.

I found myself sucked into that sad, lonely place of memories. I climbed onto my bed and hugged my Eeyore (The donkey from Winnie the Pooh J). I close my eyes and let tears creep up into my eyes. I let them fall and slowly fell asleep.