The Passage (h.s)

Chapter One

It's her mission to remind me that twenty-eight is still young. I most definitely appreciate her efforts, because there's days when I feel well beyond my years. It probably has something to do with becoming a mother at such a young age. I grew up faster than my peers, it can be hard for me to switch gears from being a serious grown up to a young adult just wanting to have a good time.

Lark was born when I was very young, way too young for any girl to be having children. I got pregnant six months after James and I started dating, we were both sixteen. At the age of sixteen, girls are just learning how to take care of their own needs let alone having to take care of anyone else's. By some miracle I finished high school while raising a toddler, and James and I married the day after graduation.

He continued to college taking classes full-time, and I worked constantly to support our family. Every night he came home drunk, yelling for unknown reasons and breaking things when his temper got the worst of him.

After Lily was born, I started taking online courses and finished my four-year degree while working and raising two young children. It was a constant struggle, but nonetheless, everything happens for a reason, my train wreck of a marriage is thankfully over, and I have my girls right by my side. They've made me the woman I am today. Difficult or not, I wouldn't change a thing.

***

"Lark and Lily, you better be dressed and ready to go in five minutes."

Why do I always feel like I'm yelling up the stairs at my children? Oh yeah, because this happens all the time.

"You know how I say there are things we can't be late to?" I ask rhetorically, "This is one of those things."

Lark is frantically screaming back at me from upstairs.

"Mama, I can't find my silver flats. They're the only shoes I have that'll match this dress."

"Why aren't they in your closet where they're supposed to be?"

I roll my eyes as I glance at the floor to see her shiny silver flats in the middle of the living room floor just where they aren't supposed to be.

"Hmmm, I guess these shoes by the couch couldn't possibly be the ones you're looking for."

Lark scrabbles down the stairs to find that once again I'm right. She knows I'm silently scolding her for not putting her things away as she swoops them from the floor.

"Thanks mama."

I keep hearing thumping noises from upstairs, so I call out to Lily.

"What're you doing up there? You don't sound like you are getting ready."

I shake my head and rub the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"I'm just doing cartwheels mama."

Her matter of fact tone is ridiculous, she obviously has no sense of urgency which is unsettling me. Part of keeping myself composed in moments like these I become snarky and sarcastic.

"Since when is flipping cartwheels part of your get ready routine?"

I hear her giggling from her room, it takes everything in me to contain my laughter. I don't want her to think it's okay for her to do this every single time we're leaving the house, but it's kind of funny. I feel a pat on my head which is Sam's way of telling me everything's going to be fine and we'll get to graduation in plenty of time.

"Mama, Lily hasn't brushed her hair yet. It's seriously embarrassing going anywhere in public with her."

Lark has chosen to have one of her adolescent moments at the most inconvenient time, the kind when everyone in her family is an absolute embarrassment no matter what they do.

"Okay Lark I get it; I'll brush and braid her hair and we'll be out the door."

I shout rolling my eyes, then I take a moment to shift my tone.

"And by the way kiddo, you look beautiful."

Lark is average height for her age, her hair is a thick and beautifully sandy blonde, her eyes are just the same as mine, blue like the Caribbean Sea, and she has sweet rosy cheeks.

She blushes, giving me an awkward grin.

"Thanks mama, you look great too. And even though I may not show it, I'm proud of you."

I wrap her in my arms, thanking her for her thoughtful words. I gently kiss her forehead and brush her hair away from her face.

"I'm proud of you too, you've been a rock star helping around the house while I've been in school and working. I have one more favor though, help me get your sister down here, we're running late."

She takes a few long strides towards the stairs to corral her sister. Moments later Lily comes bouncing down the stairs.

"Mama I'm ready...except for my hair."

She mentions the hair as Lark gives her the stare of death for even thinking she could go anywhere in that condition.

I quickly brush Lily's hair and put it in a simple braid. Lily has long blonde hair that slightly curls at the ends. She also has my blue eyes that twinkle when she smiles, she looks a lot like her sister, her features are just more defined.

"You're all set kiddo, and you look fabulous. Now go get in the car."

***

Graduation itself is rather uneventful, just the typical speeches from alumni, the Dean of Students, a few social media speakers sharing their success stories, and the valedictorian. The head of the class of 2014 is Samantha Bowden, my best friend. Sam is an excellent student, with endless talent in technology and music, she has a great ear for sound. She's risen above the rest of the student body by learning how to network herself. Being able to network in the entertainment industry is your golden ticket. One of her other missions is to teach me how to do the same for myself.

Her speech is inspiring and breathes the air of optimism for all the members of our graduating class. When she finishes, I cheer loud and obnoxious, the way a best friend is supposed to. All the speeches have reached their conclusion and the Dean of Students is back at the helm calling students forward to the stage.

I wonder if anyone else's stomach is turning, dreading walking on stage with all these people watching. Stage fright isn't the issue, that's something I don't have a problem with. It's the graduation tradition that seems awkward to me. It's like everyone is expecting for the walk across the stage to result in some magical metamorphosis. I keep imagining each student escaping the cocoon of grad school to become beautiful butterflies. The image makes me chuckle, I'm having a hard time taking this moment seriously.

After a long drawn out slew of names which I mostly don't recognize, the Dean is alphabetically in my neighborhood. It's stifling hot and there's thousands of people here. For the life of me it doesn't feel like the university has shut off the heat since basketball season, and it's now June. My temperature level is something I like to refer to as, what ring of hell I have I stumbled into? I'm hoping that once this is over, maybe I can breathe freely again.

I'm so distracted that I almost miss my name.

"Willow Jasmine Wishart,"

Announces Dean Everett. Finally, it's time for me to move forward with my life.