With my favorite Little Mermaid backpack slung over my shoulders, I scamper inside my house back from school. Noiselessly, I kick off my pretty light-up shoes that Daddy had bought for me before he went away to live in the clouds. I scrunch up my face at the sight of the living room. The couch cushions were crooked, the coffee table on its side with the contents that were on it all on the floor, and the pictures on the walls were cracked.
Tears spring into my eyes as I notice that the only pictures that are damaged are the ones with me in them.
After taking a few calming breaths, I wipe my damp face with the backs of my hands and head into the kitchen. When I see Mommy by the oven with her back facing me, I smile. "Mommy, what happened to the living room?' I ask curiously, setting my backpack onto the dining table.
"Nothing you need to worry about." She mutters. I skip over to the sliding glass door leading to the backyard and press my face against the warm glass. "Do you think Daddy's having a fun time up in the clouds? They look like cotton candy. I forgot, does Daddy like cotton candy?" I ramble, gazing up at the sky in awe. Daddy's lucky, he gets to live in the clouds!
Bang! I spin around to see Mommy holding a knife. Is she going to make dinner now? Huh. She was now making her way towards me, her teeth clenched.
"Don't you EVER talk about him again! Its your fault that he's dead! If he didn't have to pick you up from kindergarten that day then he wouldn't have gotten into a car accident. It should have been you." She gets closer, holding the knife out in front of her.
I tremble, taking a few steps away from her, petrified. Why is Mommy saying this? Daddy isn't dead, he went to live in the clouds because he was specially chosen. Grandma told me so! I sniffle, tears tumbling down my cheeks once again. I'm confused and scared.
"Give me my husband back!" She shrieks, lunging at me. I yell in pain as she slams me to the ground and slaps me again and again. This time she hits me with the heel of the knife and I scream "Stop Mommy! It hurts! HELP!" Mommy growls and covers my mouth. She flips the knife over so that the pointy end was facing me and slams it into my stomach.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
I gasp, bolting upright, and place a hand over my heart to muffle the sound. My legs are tangled in the damp sheets of my bed. I've been having those dreams lately. Well, more like memories. All that happened eleven years ago. I've been trying to forget it, but I see now that it is inevitable. I look sideways at my alarm clock, saying that it's now 7:00. Time to get ready for school. Joy.
Sliding out of bed, I stand before my mirror and scrutinize my appearance. I stand at about 5'8 and am leggy. My light hair is tangled and my eyes are a warm coffee color.
Groggily, I wander over to my closet and scan my shirts. Finally, after much debate--with myself of course--I decide on a white cropped t-shirt with a few random black polka dots. Then I throw on a pair of light boyfriend jeans and camel colored ankle boots with a small heel. Heading into the bathroom, I apply a small amount of mascara, brown eyeliner, and a dab of lip gloss.
As I dash out of my room, I sling my rouge book bag over my shoulder and head downstairs. Sitting at the dining table is Victoria, my seventy-nine-year-old grandmother on my father's side. Grandma is about 5'2 with long and wispy grey hair that's constantly tied into a bun with a ribbon. Her eyes are like a dark forest, just like Dad's were. She's wearing a pair of white pants with a navy blue sweater and her slippers.
"Good morning, Ariel. Would you like anything for breakfast? Coffee maybe?" She asks, setting down the book that she was reading. I shake my head and give her a smile that says 'thanks for offering though'. She seems to have understood since she picked up her book once again. Hesitantly, I walk up to her and kiss her temple. I see her smile before I make my way to the front door.
